#taking an unofficial break until i feel better about everything ��� perhaps until the end of june or maybe longer

[suddencolds]

personal //

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain

The Falcon And The Winter Soldier (TFATWS) Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.3k

Prologue

Summary: Post-blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Notes: This series is based on the Disney+ series with my own interpretation as I include my OC in it. A bit late in the game, but I am back after surviving the whole of last year and now closing into graduation! When I knew that this series was out, I knew it was my chance to make a comeback here! 

This is a prologue to give background on the OC. Also, you will get some insight into her history and relationship with Bucky before TFATWS.

Please enjoy and leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 💖

This is also the unofficial series masterlist:

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven |

----------------------------//----—————————

Wakanda, 5 years ago

“Hey, I just fed you!” Your brows furrowed in frustration as the little runt of a goat continuously followed you to nip on your loose cotton pants.

You could hear a chuckle from the corner when Bucky came into your view. He was carrying a large sack of fertilizer that was to be used for your edible garden.

The frown on your face slowly curved upwards when you see the beautiful smile on his face. How can a single smile make your heart stop and beat wildly at the same time?

You quickly walked over to where he was, looking at how he bent over to set down the sack before flashing you another heart-stopping smile. From that moment, you only wished to always see him being this happy.

“Steve just wants you to pay attention to him.” Your lips quirked when you thought about how he had decided to name an annoying goat after his best pal.

“Can’t blame him when there’s a pretty girl around.” He continued before he proceeded to open the sack.

You did not know to respond to his compliment but you knew that you shouldn’t think more of it. Steve had told you before of how Bucky was like in the past before everything horrible that happened to him. How he was such a charmer with the ladies.

—————————----//-----------------------——

You wouldn’t have expected it, especially when you met him for the first time. When your powers first revealed themselves in an accident while you were barely a teenager, you found yourself panicking at what was happening to you.

You started finding yourself on the run from Hydra before S.H.I.E.L.D got to you. Taken under Coulson’s wing, you were only supposed to be an asset under close surveillance so that you would not fall into the wrong hands. When you became a young adult, you signed up to be an agent seeing how Coulson was close to you like a father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps to help the world become a better place.

However, given the fact that powers make you a target for Hydra, Director Fury asked you to keep your powers on the down-low. You weren’t allowed to use them in front of others and it was a kept secret amongst the higher-ups.

That all changed when the Avengers initiative was founded. You refused the title but accepted the offer to be part of the team. You once again find yourself at the hands of Hydra once it was revealed that S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated from the inside.

You unexpectedly got kidnapped in the mess. When you met Alexander Pierce, you were promised to become an asset to Hydra whether you were willing or not. That’s when you first met Bucky.

You didn’t recognise him at first but the photos that Steve had shown you coupled with the ones you saw in the museum allowed you to fit the pieces together. You still remembered his expression when you first called him by his real name. He didn’t get it at first before you started shouting his full name. That earned you a slap from Pierce himself before he got Rumlow to haul you back into a cell.

As time passed in a blur, the last thing you expected was Bucky breaking you out of your cell and the two of you escaped together. You two stuck like glue throughout the entire time in Romania before he got involved in a crime he didn’t commit.

You fought for him and revealed your powers publicly for the first time. While he and Steve managed to escape, you were arrested for choosing the wrong side and being deemed a threat to global security.

Fast forward, you were brought to Wakanda with Bucky and Steve trusted you to take care of his best pal while he continued to be on the run.

Here you are now, living on a farm with Bucky ever since his programming has been removed. Even though Steve is his best pal, Bucky still feels a distance between him and Steve. They had been separated for more than 70 years after all.

While Steve had only the best intentions for him, Bucky knew he could never be the same old person he was before Hydra happened. Bucky felt like you were the only one who accepts him for who he truly is.

A broken man still trying to recover from his dark past. A man who will never be the same.

You never expected him to become someone else, but only embraced him for who he is. He was grateful that you were always patient with him when he fell into his terrible moods from the aftermath of his nightmares. Bucky felt even more blessed when he saw how you always make him smile and laugh more, reminding him that he is not truly alone and that you were someone he could depend on.

Bucky still feels like it is a dream that he now has you by his side. Who knew that the S.H.I.E.L.D agent that had been planned to become another fist of Hydra alongside him would be the closest person he had now?

The two of you shared more similarities than you realised. Both of you had dreamed of the day you two can stop fighting. Being exposed to the real world since you were a young teen, you started growing weary of it all. You had hoped to find yourself in social work once you retired from this life of constant fighting. Bucky didn’t have any plans for himself for the future but he always hoped you would still be willing to be there beside him.

It seemed easy to define your relationship, right? You two were definitely friends. Confidants, perhaps? There was a constant gnawing feeling in your gut if you two could ever be more. Your feelings for Bucky became stronger with the time you two spent together, but you weren’t sure if it was only because he has been the only constant in your life for the last five years.

While the two of you had your close moments, Bucky never gave the hint that it could allude to more. You weren’t super keen to ruin your friendship either. Bucky has become someone so important in your life that you did not want to lose him. There was no way you want to change anything even if it meant suppressing the growing feelings you had for him.

The thoughts in your head were suddenly interrupted when you hear people approaching. Turning back, you saw King T’Challa and Okoye approaching with more soldiers following behind carrying a case. Bucky stopped his current actions and the two of you proceeded to walk closer to where they stood. You could see the change in his demeanour when the two of you approached closer and saw the case to reveal a new metal arm- specifically Vibranium.

It was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged looks before Bucky spoke.

“Where’s the fight?” You could hear the dread in his voice. Your heart fell at his crestfallen expression, empathising with what he was feeling.

King T’Challa was not oblivious to it either but proceeded to give his response. “On its way.”

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath all this time until you let out an exhale. Looking over to see Bucky with a conflicted expression, your hand reached out to place your hands gently on Bucky’s left shoulder and gave a soft reassuring pat.

You mustered a brave front and showed him a reassuring smile.

“We will get through this together, Buck. As always.” Hoping your words would make him feel better, you were relieved when he returned a smile back at you.

Seeing your optimism no matter the circumstances (especially when the world might potentially come to an end), Bucky Barnes felt like he could do anything as long you were by his side.

[imagine-loki]

Hiding in Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 11

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? 

RATING: General Audience

“Loki?” Frigga looked worriedly at her son who burst into his parents’ shared rooms. “Is everything…?”

“You conspired with that elf against me?” He snapped. 

Sighing, Frigga gave a slight wave to her maids who all left the room. “Conspired is a strong word for it,” Her voice was calm and steady as she rose from her seat. “She wrote, asking of your character and I suggested she get to know you. Tatianna needed time with family and thus, I realised she could get to meet you without you being guarded as I knew you were unsure of the situation and were not likely to open up to her.”

Loki gasped in shock. “So you planned this? You were the one to actually suggest it?” He became more hurt at that revelation. 

“You treat that maid with nothing but kindness, I thought if Raven saw that side of you also, she would see how caring you are. I knew that you would not open yourself as willingly to her otherwise.” “I…” he could not explain his anger, such was its intensity. 

“Loki, I am truly sorry for doing this, clearly, it was a mistake on my behalf. I am genuinely sorry for hurting you so, my son.” She tried to have him look at her so that he would see she was being genuine. “In turn, I also hurt Raven.” Loki scoffed at the mention of the elf. “She is a lovely woman. Bright, kind, a good partner for you but instead, it appears my little idea has hurt you both so.” “Even after what you have done to me, the two of you, you care about her?” “Loki, Raven has had a very restricted life, she only wanted to know if she would be forced to endure the same here. I know you will not believe this but she simply wishes to be happy and knowing I am integral to the suffering of more unhappiness for her is upsetting for me. It does not take for my upset at the hurt I caused you.” 

Loki scowled. Raven’s words came back to him again, of her loneliness and the life she was forced to lead thus far. He didn’t want to feel pity for her. He wanted to loathe her, something quite easy to do with her actions but it still played on his mind. Without saying another word to his mother, he turned to leave. 

“I genuinely believe that given the time, you will see you are well suited, Loki,” Frigga stated. 

“Perhaps we could have been.” Loki acknowledged. “But you scuppered our chances significantly with your idea.” With that, he left the room. 

* Raven sat in her room, the door between her bed chambers and front chambers locked and with a sofa in front of it in case any thought to try and open it. She had been ready for Loki’s ire and remarks, she had long built a thick skin being the youngest of five and with four older brothers, what she had not been ready for was her own words. The idea of sitting alone in her rooms for days on end was nothing new to her, what was new was the knowledge that it would not come to an end. Growing up, she had hoped the day would come that she would have a happier existence. Even as a Ljósáfar wife to a Ljósáfar husband, she could not possibly be forced to remain as she had been growing up. On hearing she was marrying an Aesir, she knew life would be far different and on knowing it was Prince Loki, though she knew little of his demeanour, she knew the Aesir way of life would allow her far greater freedom and she also knew him to be very intelligent, allowing her to fantasise of the many conversations and discussions they could share. The debates they could muster in private in the evenings after court was complete for the day. She had been excited about that. Even if they did not see eye to eye, she had dreamed of debate and conversation where she was not required to remain silent. Instead, now she had ruined any such an idea and would be forced to look at the walls that currently surrounded her for considerable years yet to come and that felt far more daunting than she could ever fathom. It filled her with a dread that made her feel like she would begin to hyperventilate at any moment. She felt entirely trapped. 

Questions swirled around in her mind. Would Loki take a mistress? Would he take many over the years? Would she have to endure dark-haired offspring he sired outside of wedlock to mistresses being recognised unofficially? Would she go to empty rooms every night while his were filled with love, passion and the giggles of a lover? Would she remain alone? Would people whisper how she was not a fit spouse? That she was not up to the task of securing the line of her husband. Or, just as heart-wrenching, would she be forgotten about, again. Only recognised and remembered when she stood in the shadow of the important male she was tied to. 

Thoughts of her perhaps finding love, feeling unconditional love could not come to her, after all, such was preposterous to her current state. She remembered the affections she felt before with Lord Arden. The stolen kisses, the sneaking around and indeed, the illicit actions of it. When it was made clear that she was to wed Loki, he left immediately with no thorough explanation. She always wondered if it was because it hurt too much to see her being wed elsewhere and he wanted a clean break, or after a while, she suspected it was because he realised he would not achieve his goal of a respectable dowry from her and decided to try other women. She was unsure if she had come to that second conclusion in her own mind to placate her feelings or not but that was going to be her excuse to make her feel better, factual or otherwise. 

Curled up with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around them, she did nothing but think sadly of the situation at hand. 

* “You insulted the Ljósáfar.” 

Thor had Mjolnir ready for what was to come and chuckled to himself as he deflected several knives that Loki tossed his way. 

“You’re never able to aim properly when you are overly angered.” “You said nothing.” Loki’s voice was barely over a hiss. “I was sworn to secrecy.” “By someone you don’t even know?” “By our mother, a being I know even longer than you do,” Thor stated, avoided a blast of magic by using Mjolnir’s own version of such. “Raven only agreed because she wanted to get to know you.” “And that was how she decided to do so?” Loki spat. “Not by engaging me in any manner that would signify any attempt of an honest and healthy introduction?” “Since you failed to answer her three written attempts at such, I cannot imagine she felt she had many other options.”

Loki froze. “What?” “Raven wrote to you. On three separate occasions, and you ignored all three.” 

“No, she did not.” Loki shook his head. “Indeed, she did.” Thor reiterated. “This was confirmed, not only by her but when I asked the Postmaster, he confirmed it. I asked him so I could confirm it because you are not one to ignore a letter and I suspected you would call her a liar to save yourself. Three separate letters, dated months apart so to allow for time to receive and reply should you be otherwise busy, giving you time to do so. All three remained unanswered.” “I received no such letters,” Loki repeated. 

“Well, three were sent from Alfheim, sorted by the Postmaster himself and delivered to your rooms,” Thor informed him. “She tried before now. It is why she had to try and find reports on your personality elsewhere.” Thor slapped his shoulder. “I wanted to warn you. Well, I mostly wanted to warn you. Part of me also wanted to see the look of shock on your face when you realised who she was. That was until I realised what you were saying about her. I told you many times, Loki, this is very hard on her.” 

Loki had been bothered by the supposed letters he had not received until Thor mentioned Raven’s ‘struggle’. “Norns, if I have to hear this again.” He threw his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “Poor Raven, how lonely she has had it. How she had to remain seen and never heard. The Elf I have borne witness to is no such shrinking violet. She literally feels like she has to have the last word, come Helfheim or high water.” 

“Because that is who she is. She feels here like she does not have to be a statue any longer.” Thor argued. “Do not lie for one second and tell me that you want a silent and boring wife because you and I both know you rather lose your life than being forced to wed someone without their tongue. How else could you ever have someone at your beck and call to argue with day and night? I would have thought an opinionated and in your belief, an argumentative wife would have suited you to the ground. I doubt you want a wife that would agree with everything you say without question. Where would be the fun in that?” 

Loki could not argue that point. Nothing would disgust him more. “That does not negate her actions.” 

“She felt she had no choice. Was it something I would suggest? No, but it was for a good reason. She just wanted a good partner.” 

Loki scowled. “And in doing so, ensured she would not get one.” 

“Loki, please. This is going ahead whether or not you are happy about it, so you have two choices, be angry with her for this, accept any and all apologies, learn about her and try and form a healthy and fulfilling marriage with her or continue this animosity and live an unfulfilled marriage. I will soon have to court my betrothed and if the options of both were on the table, I know I would not wish to remain arguing.” “She already made it clear, the hope is to perform some sacred ritual, ensure you and your wife spawn multiple times and stay as far away from me as is physically possible.” 

“Loki, the woman I have spoken to multiple times wants entirely the opposite of that and I know you don’t want to believe it but to her, coming here, having a husband such as you was something she wanted. Sadly, things have gone slightly awry.” Loki began to scoff at his words before pausing. “When has all this conversing been taking place?” “Through her stay here.” Thor kept his answers broad so as to not have Loki sense any dishonesty. 

Loki studied his brother closer. “Like when?” “Do you honestly think I can recall days and times off the top of my head?”

“Do you know where in the palace she is?” Thor tried to think of something to say to argue that but silence or a no would immediately be sensed as a lie. “Why?” “I deserve to know, as her betrothed, surely?” “Not if you are going to add to her loneliness with it.” “Loneli…If I wanted to add to her loneliness, the last thing I would do is ask where to find her, Thor.” Loki scoffed. “Where is she?”

“I am not going to tell you if you are going to use it to add to this farce.” Thor’s declared. 

Loki knew he was telling the truth, much to his own annoyance. “Then leave.” “This is the royal hallway, I don’t have to leave. I live here, same as you.” Thor reminded him. “In your time speaking with Raven, what have you learnt of her?” “That she’s a conniving wench.” 

“No, Loki. In all seriousness, what have you learnt of her? What did it reveal of her knowledge of you?”

“Nothing, she knows nothing of me. Made clear by how she thought to get to know me.” He snapped. “Her way of speaking to me was not to introduce herself but to act like a maid, to scrub toilets and rummage through my belongings. That’s how little she thinks of me.” Loki paused. He had not thought of that previously. She had been privy to all of his belongings. Letters of private matters, items of personal value that he would not have wanted her to see. It annoyed him greatly that she had touched and rummaged through such things.

Seeing his brother getting irritated, Thor decided to alter his train of thought before he focused too greatly on what was annoying him. “So in that time, she got nothing right about your personality? I refuse to believe that because when I discussed the issue with her, I think she got your personality to perfection. The anger, the silent treatment, she even apologised to me for the aggression you would show me, both physical and otherwise.” “That, she did ascertain correctly. That is hardly surprising as it would be considered a normal reaction by most.” Loki dismissed. “I will not repeat myself, where is she?” “You’re repeating yourself saying that to me again.” Thor pointed out. “Until you are willing to speak with her like an adult, I will not tell you.” “You owe me.” “You owe her, considering you never even wrote back when she tried to engage you herself.” Loki said nothing as Thor walked off, leaving him to his thoughts. He walked back to his room and looked at the platter his letters always were placed when delivered to him. There were three there at that time. He walked over and looked around, noting there was nowhere any letter could have fallen for him to not have seen it. 

The Aesir Postmaster was a man of set ways. He was practically devout in how he viewed his role. If a letter went missing in his office, Norns have mercy on the being that moved it. He took the role as seriously as Odin took the role of Allfather. If he genuinely told Thor that there had been three letters from the Ljósáfar palace for him, then there had been. So where were they?

[carothepoet]

Perspectives

If anyone had asked, Jack would have said that he fell in love first. Somewhere in the murky middle of fiery blue eyes daring him to dismiss her capabilities, the comforting squeeze of her hand when an alien device pinned him to a wall, her uncanny ability to manipulate the laws of physics to save his ass over and over again, and the moment on a Goa’uld vessel with an energy field separating them and death staring them in the face, Samantha Carter had gotten possession of his heart and soul and taken up permanent residence there. That last instance was when he had known it for sure—looking into her panicked eyes and realizing he had two choices: leave her or die with her. Knowing also that there was no choice to be made, because there was no version of him in any reality that could go on living in a world without Carter.

Sir, just go!

NO.

It was a staggering revelation, and it complicated things a whole hell of a lot. He kept it to himself until it was forced out of him, and then he and Carter looked into each other’s eyes, counted the cost, and vowed to never speak of it again. The fate of the galaxy was too important. But no amount of pretending could change the reality, which was that he still loved her beyond all comprehension. He went about the days as normally as possible, leading his team and fighting the endless alien wars, trying not to think about the possibilities of someday, when it was unlikely either of them would stay alive that long. He hoped, at least, that he would go first. There is only so much loss a man can take.

Four years later, after he had saved the planet countless times and nearly died in every single instance, he was offered a position at the Pentagon. He jumped at it. Maybe now. Maybe? It seemed too much to hope.

He told Carter. You once asked me what might have been if things had been different. Well, now they’re different. Still interested in finding out?

He’d never forget the light that flooded her eyes, her smile out-dazzling the sun, as she practically launched herself at him and smothered him with a kiss eight years in the making. He’d kissed her once before, when the SGC had been trapped in a time loop. But this was better. This was real. She was kissing him, and she would remember it this time.

And with any luck, there’d be many more kisses to follow.

*

If anyone had asked, Sam would have said that she fell in love first. Even on the day they met, when Jack been a condescending ass and acted like she wasn’t worth his time, he’d changed his attitude the second she stood up to him. And then he’d insulted Samuels just to get a reaction out of her and she’d smiled before she knew what she was doing. I shouldn’t encourage him, she’d thought to herself, and he must have read her mind and considered it a personal challenge, because he’d had her choking back laughter and smothering smiles ever since.  

It was unprofessional, of course, these forbidden feelings for her commanding officer. But she couldn’t help it, any more than she could help laughing at his stupid jokes. She thought, sometimes, that maybe he felt it too—there was a certain tenderness in his eyes when he smiled at her, and he often sought her out in her lab when she was buried in experiments.

Watcha doing? he would ask. She would explain. He would pretend to be too dumb to understand, say something absurd, and she would laugh. Get some rest, Carter. That’s an order.

He said her name like an endearment, and she held on to those moments and savored them. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe he didn’t love her. But she loved him, and she would follow him to the ends of the universe and save his ass as many times as he needed her to.

It ended up being a lot of times.

She went through hell and back trying to keep him safe, and she couldn’t decide if the revelation that he loved her back made it better or worse. Some days it was definitely worse.

She held on to hope until she couldn’t anymore, and then proceeded to almost make the biggest mistake of her life--nearly marrying Pete Shanahan. But when her father was dying, it was not Pete who stayed with her, who wrapped his arm around her and promised to be there for her, always. Sam looked into Jack’s steadfast brown eyes and saw the rest of her life.

By the time Jack was promoted to the Pentagon, she’d made up her mind. If he didn’t bring it up, then she was going to. She was damned if she would wait another single second when they both knew.

In the end, he brought it up. He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth before she found herself kissing him, and the amazing thing was how familiar it felt, as if her lips had belonged on his since the beginning. His arms were home and his lips were both lazy Saturdays and off-world adventure, and every bit of pain and struggle and longing had been worth this perfect moment.

Stay with me, Carter?

Always, Sir. Always.

*

If anyone had asked, Teal’c and Daniel would have said that they knew Jack and Sam were in love long before those two idiots were aware of it, and that they had an ongoing debate on how long Jack and Sam could hold out before the unresolved sexual tension became too much to bear. Teal’c, for his part, maintained that both of them were far too professional to ever let their feelings get in the way of missions. Daniel wished they’d just get a room already and to hell with the consequences.

But it went on. And on. And on. For eight years. Eight years Daniel and Teal’c had to witness the yearning and the pining and the noble self-sacrifice; had to watch them fall apart with fear whenever one of them went missing; had to watch them try not to fall apart with relief when the other one finally turned up again.

Oh, you have returned! I worried about you a completely normal amount. I definitely did not push my health to the very brink of functioning in an attempt to rescue you. I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe, but, like, platonically. Of course.

It was exhausting.

No one was more relieved than Daniel when, on the same day that Jack accepted his position in DC, he came to Daniel’s house with the news that he and Carter were officially A Thing, but they did not want a big deal made out of it; and furthermore—

Fucking finally, said Daniel.

Jack grinned wickedly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

*

If anyone had asked, General Hammond would have categorically denied knowing anything about it. Not that he didn’t see things. He saw pretty much everything that happened at his facility. He saw, for instance, the way Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter sat just slightly too close together at the briefing table; her knee brushing up against O’Neill’s arm as it rested on the armrest. He saw the looks they exchanged with each other; the way they could communicate paragraphs with a single glance, with a subtle lift of the eyebrows. He saw how O’Neill’s eyes softened when Carter entered the room; how Carter’s whole body lit up with suppressed mirth when O’Neill uttered whatever absurdity had made it past the brain-to-mouth filter.

He saw Carter’s desperation when O’Neill was stranded on Edora, and O’Neill’s despair when Carter’s brain was taken over by an alien entity.

I know Major Carter means a great deal to you.

She’s a very valuable member of my team, Sir.

Even with Carter’s likely and imminent death staring him in the face, O’Neill would not accept comfort from his trusted commanding officer if there was even the slightest risk it might damage her reputation. But he sat at her bedside and refused to leave it until she came back to herself.

Hammond often questioned whether their obvious attachment made them an asset or a liability. But time and again, SG-1 came through and saved the world, and he knew the effectiveness of that team came down, in large part, to the deep bond between O’Neill and Carter. Splitting them up could put the whole planet in jeopardy.

So, officially speaking, he saw nothing. And privately, unofficially, he was rooting for them. Because, damn it, the both of them had been through their own kinds of hell and they deserved to be happy.

He retired and left the facility to O’Neill. He was taking a final farewell look around his office when O’Neill swaggered in.

Hammond smiled. Are you ready for this?

Oh, absolutely, Sir. Not the slightest bit of…trepidation. O’Neill’s face belied his words, and Hammond reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

There is no one better for this job than you.

I will do my best to fill your shoes, Sir.

Hammond turned to go, hesitated, and faced O’Neill one last time. Jack, may I give you a piece of advice? As a friend.

O’Neill’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but he gave a quick nod. Sure.

I have been a military man for most of my life. But I am also a family man. And while I would never advise you to break regulations—

General—

No, hear me out. Hammond put both hands on O’Neill’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. If you love her, find a way to make it work. You won’t ever regret it.

O’Neill blinked, perhaps in shock, and then his eyes began to twinkle. I don’t know what you’re talking about, General.

Of course you don’t. Hammond gave him an understanding clap on the shoulder and walked out.

Eighteen months later, when the wedding invitation arrived in the mail, he knew he should have been surprised but he wasn’t. On the back of the invitation, in Jack O’Neill’s distinctive scrawl, were two words:

No regrets.

Hammond threw back his head and laughed.

It was about damn time.

[puckinghell]

If It’s Just Pretend | Brock Boeser

Summary Request: “I’ve spent the last nine months telling my family about my amazing partner and they just dumped me before the winter break; please be my fake partner”  Word count: 5,4k Note: aka lou’s favorite cliche

---

“So,” you say, sliding onto the couch next to Brock and putting a beer on the coffee table in front of him, “why are you moping?” 

Brock’s eyebrows raise up as he looks up at you. “I’m not moping,” he says, but it sounds extremely mopey, so you roll your eyes.

“I know you better than that,” you tell him sternly, and take a sip of your drink. “You haven’t even made fun of Tuna once.” 

You pointedly shoot a glance at Jake, who’s wearing a Santa hat but no shirt as he loudly sings along to Britney Spears’ version of My Only Wish, and waltzes around Bo’s living room. 

Brock sighs. “Yeah, I guess that is unlike me, huh?” 

But he doesn’t expand. 

It’s the Canucks unofficial Christmas party, the one that comes after the official one at Rogers Arena with all the Canucks executives where everyone dresses up in suits and sparkly dresses and drinks champagne.

You’d been to that one too, but this one is the one you’ve been looking forward to. 

The one with your favorite people dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters (or no sweater, if you’re Jake Virtanen) singing Christmas songs and drinking beer and destroying Bo’s carefully decorated flat. 

You think you just heard Rouss yell something about fighting the Christmas tree. 

Now Brock is your best friend on the team - he’s been your best friend since he walked into the coffee shop where you work one day and made a pointed comment to some guy that was rude to you, after which you gave him a free coffee and your number - but you’ve spent so much time around the rest of the guys that they’re all kinda your friends, now. 

Team parties, movie nights, you’ve attended them all. Nobody ever thought it was weird that Brock brought you, not even when he had girlfriends that he probably should bring. He never did. He always brought you.

Until about 9 months ago, when he started bringing Amber around. But, even then, he made sure to always invite you, too. If it was an official team event where players were only allowed a plus one, he’d make Petey bring you.

(“I don’t mind,” Petey had said, “I like you a lot more than any other people I could bring”) 

It still... hurt, to say the least. You know it’s ridiculous, but it still felt like you had been replaced, still felt like you hadn’t been enough. 

It’s never been like that, for you and Brock, even if that’s what you wanted it to be in the beginning. It remained platonic, and you didn’t have the guts to move it along, and then Brock started dating other girls, so you just kinda gave up.

But the girls had never lasted, and you’d always been the first priority, so it was fine.

Until you weren’t, and it wasn’t. Until Amber. 

But tonight, Amber isn’t here, and Brock is sulking, so you turn around and smack Brock against the chest. He’s wearing a sweater with a gingerbread man on it, that you end up punching straight in the face.

“Stop ignoring me,” you chide. “Tell me what’s got you out of the Christmas spirit.” 

You know Brock loves Christmas: he goes all out every year, and this party is one of his favorite evenings of the year, so it must be something serious to have him sitting on the couch staring stoically ahead while nursing the same beer all evening. 

Brock sighs, and you can see the stubbornness leave his shoulders as they sag down. 

“Amber left me.” 

And... oh.

That’s not what you were expecting. 

“Oh, Brock,” you mumble, reaching out to squeeze his knee, “I’m sorry...” 

“No you’re not,” he interrupts, a little gruffly. “You never liked her. None of the guys did either.” 

You feel your cheeks flush: perhaps that’s true, but you didn’t think Brock ever noticed. He never let on that he did. 

It’s not even that you didn’t like Amber, as a person: she was fine. Not really your type of girl, but fine. You just didn’t like the way she spent her evenings clung to Brock’s arm; how you felt like you couldn’t truly be yourself with your best friend when she was around. You didn’t like the looks she shot you sometimes, as if you simply being there offended her. You didn’t like how Brock’s smile dimmed when she was around.

He always told you that he was happy, that she was great, but you never saw it reflected in the way he acted around her, or the way he looked at her. So you thought that even if they’d been together for over half a year, it probably wasn’t going to last. 

Except now he looks genuinely upset and you feel a bit bad for being right. 

“I’m not super sorry that she’s gone,” you admit, because lying to Brock is useless: he’s always been able to look straight through you. “But I’m sorry you’re upset. Why did she break up with you?” 

Brock fumbles with the label on his beer bottle. “Just, our lives didn’t really fit together...” he drawls, and you can tell he’s deflecting.

He’s not telling you everything, and any other day you would push him. But this isn’t the time, and it’s not the place, and at that time Jake trips over his own feet and nearly takes down the dinner table, so you get a little distracted.

It’s not until the end of the evening that you see Brock again. You would’ve stayed at his side like a good friend should, but it seemed like Petey had that covered, and Bo put you on Jake duty - “You’re the only sober person here, you watch him” - so you had your hands full. 

But at the end of the night, most people gone, Petey comes up to you with Brock trailing behind him. 

“He’s drunk,” Petey states, which is surprising because before you left Brock alone he’d been sipping the same beer all night, and now he’s suddenly stumbling over his feet as he’s got his big body draped over Petey’s back. “You take him home.” 

“Why do I have to do it?” You cross your arms, narrow your eyes at him. “Why can’t you do it?” 

Petey sighs, motions to Brock. He seems annoyed. “Brock, I’m going to take you home.” 

“Noooo,” Brock whines, and he’s drunker than you thought, his voice slurring and his words jumbling together. “I want Y/N.” 

Petey snorts and pushes Brock towards you. “Have fun with him.” 

“Y/N?” Brock slurs, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re here!” 

“Yep...” You nearly buckle as he puts all his weight on you. “You’re gonna have to put in some effort here, bud, I can’t carry you.” 

Brock giggles. “I could carry you though.” 

“Not right now you couldn’t.” You start guiding him to the door, that Bo already has opened for you.

“Uber’s outside,” he says, shooting a pitiful look at Brock. “Is he gonna be good?” 

“You know what, Cap, I have no idea,” you tell Bo truthfully, and then you begin the impossible task of getting Brock in the Uber.

It takes a full 10 minutes but finally you’re in the back of the car, driving towards Brock’s apartment. He’s awake but barely, his head keeps bobbing down, and finally he drops it onto your shoulder.

You feel something squeeze in your chest. You barely ever see Brock like this: he’s not the type of guy to hide his emotions, but he is genuinely a happy go lucky guy, always positive and cheerful even when things are going wrong. Even when bad things happen, he shoulders the pressure and stays strong. He always holds it together; always holds you together. 

But now he’s gripping your hand tightly, like you’re the last thing tethering him to the earth. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” you mumble, carefully carding your fingers through his hair. Brock exhales softly, and you can feel the tension slipping away from his body. 

“It’s not even about her,” he says, and the words are not only slurred together but also barely above a whisper.

You hear it, though.

“What’s it about, then?” 

“I spent... fuck, I spent nine months telling my parents how great she was, and they were so...” He pauses. “Happy, you know? That I found someone. Because they worry sometimes. About me. And they were finally gonna meet her at Christmas. And now they can’t and they’re gonna worry, my mom, she’s gonna be so worried and...” His voice trails off. “It’s not about losing her, it’s that I don’t have anyone now, and that’s gonna worry my mom, and I don’t want that.” 

Maybe, in another world, where Brock isn’t drunk on your shoulder, where you’ve got your feelings a little more under control and your heart isn’t beating in your chest, you would just pat his head and let him cry it out, leave an aspirin on the bedside table and text him tomorrow to find out if he’s still alive.

But you’ve never been good at hiding your feelings, when it comes to Brock, and Brock has never seemed so vulnerable, so you blurt out:

“I can pretend to be your girlfriend and come to your house for Christmas and your mom doesn’t have to worry.” 

The second the words leave your lips you feel your cheeks heat up: that’s stupid, obviously he’s not gonna want that, he wants Amber, not you...

But then Brock’s head snaps up and his eyes are wide as he asks: “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

You nod, and you don’t tell him you’d do just about anything for him, and somehow a week later you find yourself with Brock’s head on your shoulder again, except this time he’s asleep, not drunk, and you’re not in an Uber but on a plane to Minnesota. 

--

“This was a bad idea.” You’re standing in front of the house Brock grew up in, and you know his family is inside. Brock is next to you, holding a suitcase. 

“Why?” he frowns. “Are you nervous? You already know my parents.” 

“Yeah, but...” You don’t finish your sentence but you know Brock knows what you’re saying. You know his parents but you know them as Y/N, the friend, and not as Y/N, the girlfriend, and somehow it changes everything. 

“Hey,” Brock says gently, nudging you with his elbow. “They already love you, and they’re just gonna love you more now. It’s gonna be fine.”

And it means nothing, because he can’t know that, but something settles in your stomach. 

Then he takes your hand and you think, oh, and then, I’m screwed.

Because of course, in order to be his pretend girlfriend, you’re gonna have to act like his girlfriend. Which is just gonna be massive reminder of everything you can’t have, everything you can’t ask for.

Brock opens the front door.

“Mom, dad?” he calls out, dropping the suitcase at the door. The first person that appears is Jessica.

“Hey Jess,” he smiles, hugging her.

Suddenly, family appears from everywhere: Laurie comes out and then Paul, followed by a bunch of dogs, who are the first ones to acknowledge your presence. 

“Y/N, honey, you’re here!” Laurie says, reaching out to hug you too. “Brock, I thought you said you’d bring your girlfriend.” 

“Uhm,” he answers, and you can’t help the way your heart drops.

Because of course they wouldn’t think you’re his girlfriend. You’re just the friend. You’ve always been just a friend, you’ll always be just the friend. You’re just not girlfriend material, not for someone like Brock.

Brock scrapes his throat, hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. “Mom, Jess, Paul, you know Y/N. My girlfriend, Y/N.” 

There’s a silence, one beat, two. Then, it’s Jess that breaks out into a grin.

“Yay,” she says, “I like her.” 

And it’s like that’s it, the seal of approval; suddenly Laurie has her arm around you as she hoards you into the living room, chatting excitedly while Paul slaps Brock on the back. 

“Finally got your head out of your ass, huh?” you hear him say, but you don’t have time to overthink what that means, because Duke is there.

“Honey,” Laurie says, “it’s Y/N! She’s Brock’s girlfriend!” She turns to you. “I told him it was gonna be you but he didn’t think so, he said you were way too good for him.” 

“Hey, I heard that!” Brock protests. “Talking bad about me behind my back, pops?” 

And it’s easy, from that moment on: easy to let Laurie make you a hot chocolate, to sit by the fire talking to Paul, petting a dog, easy when Brock sits next to you and slings his arm around you. It feels comfortable, familiar; like you’re already part of the family. 

It’s easy that night too, to help Laurie with dinner, joke with Duke about football, join Paul when he teases Brock. 

“Evil, evil woman,” Brock groans, and he drops his head in your lap and you card your fingers through his hair and let yourself believe, for one night, that it’s real. 

Of course, that illusion shatters when it’s time for bed. 

“You’ll be staying in Brock’s room, I assume?” Laurie asks.

“Of course she will,” Brock says, and it’s not until you’re both in his old room that he turns to you with a frown.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks. He’s looking pointedly at the double bed. “I can sleep on the floor.” 

And, well, you’ve slept in a bed with Brock before, but only when you’re really drunk, and it doesn’t feel the same now; it feels like this is something, like it matters, not a stupid decision by two friends who both refused to take the couch.

But you’re here for three days and you’re not about to let Brock sleep on the floor at his own house, in his own bedroom, so you shrug.

“It’s fine.” 

It’s very much not fine, when Brock crawls into bed next to you wearing only sweatpants and you can feel the heat radiating off his body; or when you wake up in the middle of the night and he’s got one arm slung across your body, his warm breath stroking your cheek with every exhale. 

I’m just helping a friend, you tell yourself. It means nothing, and I can stop myself from feeling like it does. 

But then a soft snore escapes Brock’s lips and you know you’re absolutely, royally, completely fucked. 

---

The next morning Brock walks into the kitchen with his eyes half closed and his voice laced with sleep, as he mumbles a “good morning” and goes straight for the coffee maker.

You know he’s not much of a morning person but it’s still hilarious that it takes him a full ten minutes to notice. 

“Are you cooking?” His voice sounds a little more normal, but it’s still gruffer than normal and you wish it didn’t affect you so much. 

“I thought it would be nice to make breakfast for your family.” You send him a tentative smile; you didn’t discuss this, and you don’t know if you’re crossing some kinda boundary, but everyone is so busy making sure you’re taken care of that you can’t help but feel a little bad. 

Brock laughs. “Oh boy, if you thought they loved you before, they’re really gonna love you after you make them pancakes. They’re gonna be so upset when we...” 

He cuts himself off, and his eyes widen slightly. You know he didn’t realize what he was going to say, and that it’s probably not the place to say it. 

Anyone could walk in at any minute, and it wouldn’t be good if they overheard you talking about your breakup. 

Fake breakup. Whatever. 

You frown down at your pan. Maybe this breakfast thing was a bad idea, maybe...

“Hey,” Brock says softly. You look up from the pancakes and suddenly he’s standing right there, and he carefully threads his arms around your waist. “Don’t,” he mumbles, “don’t worry about it. That’s my problem, okay?”

It is his problem, but it very much feels like your problem; you don’t tell him that, though, instead smile and flip the pancake. 

“Be useful,” you scolds him, trying to get it to feel normal again, “and go set the table.” 

“Okay, babe,” Brock says, and he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head before going off to find some plates, and it very much feels not normal at all, because there was nobody around to act for. 

And so, this is where you ended, at some kinda crossroads where you can either remind yourself that it’s not real and feel miserable the entirety of Christmas, or you can allow yourself to pretend and feel miserable after. 

You watch Brock as he carefully sets down the plates, gets the coffee maker going again and baby talks the dogs as he pots around. 

It’s gonna hurt anyway. You might as well enjoy it, even if it’s just pretend. 

---

You have breakfast with the family, after which Laurie tells Brock to “go show you the town”. So you drive around the town and he shows you where he grew up: his school, old house, favorite park, and of course the rink. 

“Spent way too much time there.” The rink looks like every other ice rink in the world, but Brock is smiling at it so fondly you’d think it was a person. “That place kinda made me who I am now, you know.”

It feels strangely personal, to see this side of him. You thought you’d seen your best friend from every angle, but you’ve never seen nostalgia out of him. It softens his edges and makes everything in the car feel warm and fuzzy, a little like a dream. 

Then, on the drive back, Brock reaches over the console to grab your hand and you’re sure it must be a dream. 

He doesn’t look over at you, doesn’t speak. Christmas music is playing softly on the radio and it’s starting to snow; just small white puffs floating through the air. You allow him to thread his fingers through yours and then, suddenly, he’s smiling.

“I have an idea,” he says, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding relatively chill when you ask “what”. 

If someone would just hear your voice, they’d have no idea you’re freaking out on the inside. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” 

“Where?”

“Where” turns out to be a deserted pond, in the middle of a field. You have to climb a fence to get there and Brock ensures you that it’s not trespassing because he knows the owner, so you decide not to question it. The ice is thick and filled with bumps. 

“I used to skate on this pond,” Brock says. He carefully steps onto the ice and presses his foot into it, almost as if to make sure it’s really there. Then he holds out his hand and you step down, grasping his hand for support.

You’re not a professional hockey player, and you’re wearing boots with no profile; it’s not as foul proof as Brock might think, and you’d rather not break your leg in some abandoned field in Minnesota that might or might not be someone’s private property. 

“How?” you ask. “It’s so bumpy.”

Brock laughs. “It’s a pond. That’s how they work. But you’re right, I fell all the time.” He shrugs. “My mom says I used to come home so black and blue she was sure I would one day just not come home at all.” He pauses. “But she always let me go anyway. Knew it was the only place I wanted to be.” 

He walks to the middle. Your hand is still tightly in his, so he pulls you along, sliding on your shoes. In the middle, he stops, and you slide into his side; he doesn’t seem to mind, simply holds you there. 

Brock is staring at the sky when he speaks, almost like he’s talking to  himself, or the air, and not you. “Whenever I was upset about something,” he continues, “I would come here and I would stay here for hours. I always told myself I could just live here, until it got cold and then I went home.” He chuckles, then becomes somber again. “And now...” 

The air is charged with something, and you’re afraid to speak, afraid to break it. But the pause lasts too long, so you risk it anyway. 

“And now?” 

Brock smiles and looks at you; there’s something written all over his face but you can’t quite read it, can’t quite put a finger on it.

“Now I go hang out with you,” he finishes. 

You don’t know how you end up where you do, but Brock’s face is so close you can nearly count his eyelashes, and he’s staring at you intently, and you don’t know who leans in first but suddenly your lips are pressed together.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and his fingers are cold against your skin, a stark contrast with the warmth of his lips on yours. You’ve had a few first kisses but they never felt like this; they felt exciting, sure, but also scary, and unfamiliar.

With Brock, you don’t have to work to find your footing. You fit together like the perfect puzzle, and everything feels exciting, but in the same way it feels exciting to come home after a long day. Every nerve in your body settles, and you feel comfortable, safe. Like you belong. Like it’s real.

It’s not real. 

You step back, Brock’s hand dropping to his side almost comically slow. Instantly, he’s frowning.

It can’t be weird, you’re gonna die if you made it weird, because you still have to be his fake girlfriend for two days and...

How on earth are you going to survive this?

“No one to pretend for,” you joke, but it sounds foreign either to your own ears, like the words are coming from someone else. You hear a low buzz that you’re pretty sure is coming from inside your brain. 

“What?” Brock stammers. “No, Y/N, fuck, that’s not...” 

“I think,” you interrupt him, and you hear yourself sounding a little hysterical, now, “that it’s better if we go home! I promised Jess we’d watch Elf, tonight, and I wanna make some popcorn. Let’s go.” 

You jump off the ice and nearly run to the car, repeatedly reminding yourself not to cry, and spend the car ride staring out of the window with your arms wrapped around yourself. 

Brock doesn’t say anything, not until the car is in the driveway and he puts it in park. 

“Listen,” he sighs, and there’s no way you’re gonna make it through this conversation right now, so you jump out of the car and slam the door. 

The house is warm when you walk in, and almost immediately, you hear quick footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Y/N!” It’s Jess. “I was about to paint my nails. Wanna come so I can do yours?” 

And you’re not in the mood, but it’s Jess, and it’s not her fault, and you know it’s a big deal for her to open up to people, so you plaster on the biggest smile you can muster. 

“Sure.” 

---

“Red?” Jess asks, showing you a bottle of nail polish. “For Christmas?” 

“Yeah, okay.” You really could not care less if you tried, but Jess doesn’t seem to notice. You’re sitting on her bed, in her room, and she falls down next to you comfortably, taking your hand and putting it on her leg as she opens the nail polish. 

There’s Christmas music playing.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Christmas, huh?” you ask her. 

She nods. “When I was little, I already had that.” She motions to the corner of the room, where a small plastic Christmas tree sits on a desk. “And I would put it up in October, even before Halloween. Everyone said it was crazy, and mom and dad always asked me to wait until after Thanksgiving at least, but Brock would help me put it up and say, if it brings you happiness, you keep it close to you as long as you can.” 

She smiles. “I’m glad he kept you close.” 

And you wanna yell at her: it’s not real, he doesn’t, it’s all fake, but you don’t, because with everything, he’s your best friend, and you wouldn’t do that to him. 

“Uh, yeah, me too,” you say, instead, and it comes out as a whisper. 

Jess switches hands, moving on to the other nails. 

“I know he can be a bit of an idiot, sometimes,” she muses. “But I knew even he’s not dumb enough to let go of you. Like, he never told us he was dating you, but we all kinda knew. He’s always talking about you, you know, and when he does he always sounds so in love. He just can’t keep it out of his voice. He’s an open book, like that. When he loves someone, it’s written all over him, and he clearly loves you.” 

Every single word that falls from her lips seems to hit you right in the chest, and by the time she lets go off your hand, nail polish done, your hands are shaking. 

Jess doesn’t notice. “I’m glad that it’s you,” she says, with a smile. “I never liked the girls he dated before, but I like you. I’ll tell him to stay with you forever.” 

And it’s in that moment that you decide you can’t do this anymore. 

---

“I’m going home.” 

The words are loud in a quiet living room. It’s just you and Brock; you waited until everyone else went to bed, after the movie. It was torture, to wait; your heart beating in your throat the entire 2 hours, and you were so sure Brock was going to feel it vibrate out of you, even though he kept his distance.

You guess you sufficiently freaked him out earlier, at the pond.

Now, his eyes widen and he sits up straight.

“What?” 

It’s too hard to look at him while you speak, so you stare at your hands. Red nail polish. You’ve already peeled it off because of the nerves.

“I have to go home, Brock. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Brock sits so still you can’t tell if he’s even still breathing. When he speaks, his voice is a little shaky. 

“Is it because I kissed you? Cause I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. It just kinda happened, and...” 

“And it didn’t mean anything?” you finish for him, and it’s like a switch gets flipped. Now you’re mad. “That’s exactly why I have to go, Brock, because it doesn’t mean anything to you but it means something to me!” 

You jump up, cross your arms.

“I know this is my own stupid fault, I should’ve never come here, but I was trying to be a good friend. Because that’s just the thing, that’s all I’m ever gonna be to you. A good friend. And I know that. But this? This is just one big reminder of what I want but can’t have. Having your family act like I belong here, having you act like I belong here, it’s too much because I know that I don’t.”

Brock stands up, now, but he doesn’t say anything and you don’t really give him the time. 

“I had to listen to Jess tell me that she’s so glad I’m your girlfriend, because she likes me, and how much she can see in your eyes that you love me. And I had to sit there and say nothing because I knew if I opened my mouth I would’ve told her that she’s wrong. I love you, but you don’t love me, and I thought I could just pretend, but I can’t, Brock. It hurts too much.” 

“I didn’t know...” Brock tries carefully, but you can’t let him finish that sentence, can’t let him attempt to let you down gently. 

“I know you didn’t, because you wouldn’t have invited me over here if you did,” you tell him softly. The anger has disappeared, now, floated out of you like it was never there at all. “But you know now. So I should leave.”

And with those words, you disappear upstairs to grab your stuff. 

A little, teeny tiny part of you hopes that Brock will follow. But he never does.

---

You’re sitting on the porch, waiting for your Uber to the airport. You don’t actually have a flight yet but you’d rather sit alone at a busy airport than stomach this for a second longer: you’re only just managing not to burst into tears. 

It’s no longer snowing, but there’s a thick layer of snow across the yard. Foot prints lead up to the door. Your footprints. Then, next to them, bigger ones; Brock’s. 

God, you hate this. 

You’ve just dropped your head in your hands when the door opens behind you. It creaks, then closes and clicks softly into the lock. 

You know it’s Brock before he even sits next to you. You don’t know if it’s the sound of his footsteps or the smell of his cologne or the fact that your heart seems so tethered to his that you can literally feel his presence, but you’re not surprised when his voice cuts through the quiet night. 

“I lied to you, about why Amber broke up with me. It had nothing to do with our lives being on different paths.” He pauses, and despite yourself, you look up. He’s staring straight ahead, but then he turns around and his eyes catch yours. 

Your stomach twists.

“She broke up with me because she didn’t want to spend her life being the second most important thing in my life.” 

“Hockey,” you say, because that’s what all WAGs joke about; how they have to be okay with being the most important thing after hockey. 

But Brock shakes his head. “No, you.” 

And, uhm, well, what?

“What I did to her wasn’t fair. I dated her because I knew I had to get over you and I thought she could help me do that. But if the both of you needed me at the same time, I would fly to the moon to be with you before I’d drive to the other side of Vancouver to be with her. And she knew it, and she finally decided she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.” 

He shrugs. “I was upset, but for all the wrong reasons. Not because I lost her. But because I knew then, that I was never going to get over you.”

“But...” you start, but now it’s his time to cut you off.

“No,” he says, gently but firm, and he turns to you completely; his knee is pressed into your thigh and he reaches out, takes your gloved hand in his. “Let me say this. You say it hurts, because I’m making you feel like you belong here and you don’t. But that’s not true. You do belong here. And you belong in Vancouver. And you belong anywhere I am, because you belong with me. And God,” he laughs, humorlessly, “believe me, it hurt me too, to see you fitting in with my family so well, as I knew you would. I knew they would love you. Because they can always tell when I love someone.” He pauses, then, softly: “And I love you.” 

This time, you know it’s you who leans in and connects your lips, but Brock is right with it, presses the palm of his hand into your lower back as he deepens the kiss. 

It feels like hours and seconds at the same time, when he pulls back; only slightly, only enough to breath.

You sigh, happily this time. “This would probably be a lot more romantic if it was still snowing,” you mumble, a smile spreading across your face.

Brock seems unbothered as he shrugs.

“We can just pretend.” 

[pertinax--loculos]

Weekly Update 22/08

Currently Writing Absent That Night (tagged: WIP: ATN)

wordcount this week: 18,633 (11,821 excluding the out-of-chronology climactic scene I wrote)

total wordcount: 36,965

finally wrote the Nightingale Scene (which was next chronologically and which I'd been putting off) and oml Cassie is a dramatic bench I kinda wanna give her a bigger role in the actual story

Petersen (Latrell's boss) has developed very interestingly as I've been writing. She started off definitively antagonistic, but that didn't feel right in her latest scene, so I've changed up her attitude a bit. She's ended up closer to 'ally who is constrained by bureaucracy and being a woman in a boy's club atmosphere'.

for those following along at home, I actually wrote the climax scene this week! :D Was a ton of fun and I enjoyed it immensely. Definitely helped me figure out a couple things I've gotta thread through a little better, so hopefully that'll help with the middle, too!

plans for this week is primarily to develop Albie, who's been sadly mostly ignored up til now and I think that's the reason I'm putting off writing the next scene chronologically, because it's a scene between her and Latrell. (Note: in between writing this point this morning and posting this update, I actually wrote this scene without doing any of the character work. Still gonna do it, but take that as you will.) She's a great character in my head but I still need to pin down her personality a little more

hopefully after that I can smash it out and get to the "break into two". Which, just now, as I'm typing this, has become my unofficial goal for this week. To the point I'm now making a new dot point:

This week's goal: reach the "break into two" (~five scenes)

Putting everything else under a cut cuz these seem to be getting longer, not shorter. 😅

Currently Reading Survive the Night by Riley Sager

been a bit slow getting into this but I'm blaming work throwing off my routine more than anything else

I have a weird relationship with Sager's books. I just keep reading them, even though a lot of the time I am woefully underwhelmed by the final twist

I'm not sure whether he attempts to go too big and hard or whether it's just that they don't seem all that well set up. I think it depends on each book

however they're great punchy quick-to-read thrillers and so I generally enjoy reading them even if I come away disappointed nearly... no I think actually every time so far

we will see how this one holds up!

finished The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater, book four of the Raven Cycle

yes, okay, great, get it, understand why people are obsessed with these books

maybe just... a teeny bit disappointed by the ending? Done very well and beautifully, but perhaps felt a bit rushed? All wrapped up and over too quickly? Not sure

overall A++, do recommend as YA contemporary fantasy

Real Life

first shift at the New Job went well! So well, in fact, that I've since worked 5/6 days following it. Ooops.

wouldn't be such a big deal except it's fucking with my sleeping patterns which is Not Fun. But I need the money, so. Co-worker informed me last night that you're limited to ten shifts in a fortnight, so upside is there's a limit to the amount I can do next week and I don't even have to say no!

health stuff is still going good-ish, eating probably too much 'snack' stuff but I'll get that back under control. I've also well fucked my shoulder, so that's been a pain to deal with

had an unbelievably bad doctor's appointment last week, to the point that I had to reschedule one for this week in order to actually address the issue, so that's tons of fun. 🙄 Fortunately this place bulk bills so I'm not paying for it, but ffs, the inconvenience. (And the condescension, and the outright refusal to do what I asked, and the completely and utterly ignoring me when I tried to explain what was going on. Like, I'm seriously considering issuing an official complaint about this doctor, she was that fucking bad)

anyway

Excerpt During Nox and Latrell's second face-to-face meeting:

"We figured out you also stole the Monet," Latrell said slowly. "And why is that, exactly?"

Nox shrugged, hands in his pockets. "The idea was that they'd come home, head up to the library and discover the missing books. Then they'd frantically tear apart the rest of the house looking for anything else that was missing. When--"

"Wait," Latrell interrupted. "You knew they'd go straight to the library when they got home?"

Nox's smile was sharp as broken glass. "Yes."

Latrell waited. Nox didn't seem inclined to elaborate.

After twenty-one seconds, he took another few steps, prowling around to Latrell's other side, never looking away from his face. "This is something you do, right? To get suspects to talk? Wait until they have to break the silence themselves?"

"It's effective," Latrell said drily.

[purple-martin111]

The Sacrifices We Make

Read on Archive of Our Own

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: The Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor Characters: Paladin Danse, Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson, Scribe Haylen Additional Tags: Post-Blind Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Heavy Angst, Abuse, Mental Health Issues

Chapter 3 - The Road to Righteousness

"Well hold on, my darling This mess was yours, Now your mess is mine" -Mess is Mine, Vance Joy-

“I’ll see you on the other side…”

BANG!

Darkness exploded around her and Jackie shot up from her bedroll.

“Danse?!” She cried, feverishly groping for her rifle or her Pip-Boy, anything to help fend off whatever had jolted her awake.

“Soldier?”  It came out forceful and frantic as Danse clanked through the room, “What is it? What’s the matter?” 

“I-I don’t know... I can’t breathe!”  Jackie panted, her pounding heart threatening to strangle her. “Something’s wrong!” 

Unable to control her racing thoughts, Jackie trembled and clung to her bedroll. She was convinced she’d perish in a fit of hysteria or at the very least, die of embarrassment. In an attempt to conceal her shameful state and regain some semblance of control, she pressed her face into her hands,

“You’re alright.”  

She nearly leapt out of her skin at Danse’s hand on her shoulder and his voice in her ear. So consumed by her irrational fear, she hadn’t even heard him exit his power armor. It stood looming at the edge of the room and Danse... Danse was so near that Jackie was suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to bury since leaving the vault. All the pain and heartache, her insurmountable grief, leaked from the little box she’d haphazardly stuffed them away in. 

“It’s not real, you’re safe. It’ll pass, just breathe.” 

Danse had taken a knee beside her and his grip, firm on her shoulder, moored her to reality. At least until she met his gaze and those heartbreakingly familiar brown eyes shattered her sanity. It took everything in her not to clamber into his arms and weep away her troubles. Instead Jackie clutched at his uniform and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the haunting reminder and hold back the tears caught just behind her lids. 

Nate, she missed him so goddamn much it hurt. But Danse...right now, Danse would have to do. She let his soft, calming words sooth her aching heart and slowly the panic subsided. Left with only an echo, Jackie’s hands fall into her lap. Broken and hollow, she grasped at the ghosts of her former life splintering in the parallels of her mind. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and pawed at her face, wiping at tears or the flush of shame she didn’t know. 

“This is common among soldiers.” His hand lingered on her shoulder, a gentle reminder that despite her madness, Danse still had her back. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Jackie just stared at her hands. There was sadness in Danse’s voice, a resonance of understanding that made her wonder about his own mental state. She wasn’t blind. She’d seen how he struggled. How he kept himself endlessly busy, avoiding sleep or rest so he didn’t have to confront his own demons. Danse carried the weight of the wasteland on his shoulders and clearly he cared about her. He was a tough nut to crack, but underneath it all he was kind and a good man. 

All Jackie had done since enlisting was repay his kindness in cruelty. She had been insubordinate at best and nothing short of a cold-hearted bitch at worst. 

“I haven’t treated you fairly,” she admitted, “I’ve been angry and so caught up in myself. You...” she nervously wrung her hands together as she trailed off, “you were an easy target.” 

Danse shifted to lean his elbow on his knee. “Sometimes trauma makes us do things we aren’t proud of.” 

“Doesn’t give me the right to be nasty.” She glanced over at him and was met with the faintest of smiles. 

“Is that an apology I hear, soldier?”  

“I-ah…,” she tittered to herself, “yeah, I suppose it is.” 

Danse continued grinning and knocked his shoulder against hers, "I appreciate the sentiment.” 

She leaned into him, wishing he could give her so much more than just fleeting touches. “Thanks,” she muttered and pulled away before her emotions got the better of her again, “I can take watch if you want.” 

“Negative,” his fingers brushed against her shoulder as he stood to retreat back to his armor, waiting until he was safely encased inside before continuing, “but you can sit with me if you’d like.” 

Just breathe.

Jackie’s chest ached at the recollection of that moment. Danse…he was the only thing worth fighting for in this world, the only thing keeping her breathing. He was her lifeblood and if he died at the hands of the Brotherhood for her mistakes, they might as well kill her too. 

This was her fault. She should have done more, fought harder, told Maxson where he could shove it and walked away. Should have run and never looked back and taken Danse somewhere far away. Somewhere near the sea where they could watch the sunrise and hear the waves crashing upon the sand in the evening. Leave it all behind and allow the Commonwealth to fall to its own demises. Jackie, however, had been selfish and naive in thinking that she and Danse could live in peace without retribution.

Despite her shaking hands and pounding pulse, she refused to be consumed by panic. It rattled her bones, scratching at her skull like the parasite it was, but Jackie pushed herself forward. She forced her feet to carry her across the room to where she had dumped her duffle bag the night before. Hastily, she stripped of her night clothes and plucked a clean uniform from her pack, dressing with little regard to her personal appearance. 

Unkempt and unhinged, her hair was a rat’s nest of wheat colored straw and her face a dirty, tear stained mess, but it would have to do. She would have to do.

With a sigh and a final glance around the room, she jabbed the elevator call button. As she waited for its descent she paced, attempting to formulate a plan. A plan that didn’t involve her solo assault on the Brotherhood stronghold or the very real possibility that she would be forced to murder their Elder. 

Shit. 

Staggered by the consequences of Danse’s actions, she stumbled to a halt. If she intended to survive this, she was going to have to bring down the Brotherhood--alone. If by some stroke of dumb luck she was successful, then what? The Commonwealth would crumble at the sudden power vacuum. 

Dammit Danse! 

Jackie slammed her fist against the elevator door just as it clanged open and she was left standing there, messaging her forehead between her fingers. She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do but she slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and snatched up her rifle nonetheless.  She would make it up as she went and wished to whatever gods were still listening that they didn’t end up dead. 

The elevator made an agonizingly slow ascent to the surface and Jackie prayed that she was wrong. She prayed that Danse had just gone to patrol the perimeter or ventured to a nearby settlement for supplies and he would be waiting for her in the vestibule of the bunker. But, when the elevator finally rattled to the surface, Jackie was greeted with darkness and the stark absence of Danse. 

The bunker entrance was empty, and quiet midsummer twilight greeted her as she stepped out into the wasteland. Her heart skipped a stuttering beat at the sight. Perhaps luck was still on her side because in the cover of night and concealed in her armor, Danse might still be alive.

In the distance, the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the skyline in faint wisps of pink and orange. The sunrise lazily eclipsed the deep blues and black of night while she headed east to the unofficial extraction point. As she walked on, she rooted around in her bag, searching for the signal grenade she’d stashed away in case of emergency. 

It didn’t take long to reach the designated location, a vacant stretch of broken road behind the old ironworks factory. She threw down the signal grenade and watched as the plume of smoke circled up into the heavens. Not so patiently she waited for the distant hum of the vertibird’s engines to break the silence.

Minutes crept by and before long the sun breached the horizon. With it, came the feeling of failure. Not once had she bothered to check in with Danse last night to assess his own mental state. His deteriorating physical health had been an obvious sign of his instability, yet Jackie had failed to acknowledge it. Instead, she burdened him with her insignificant troubles and neglected to reciprocate his kindness. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

She had promised to be there for him, help him heal, and secretly she had vowed to love him. Then in the face of hardship, she’d abandoned him. Jackie couldn’t breathe and before she could stop it, tears were tumbling down her cheeks. She had betrayed him when he had needed her the most. 

The crippling intensity of her guilt sliced at her ribs, threatening to tear her apart. It would have been better, easier for them both, if she had just endured the pain of letting Danse go. Allowed him to move on and live out his days in peace. After everything he’d been through, he at least deserved that much.

The ground groaned beneath her feet as she paced in an attempt to occupy her mind and halt the hemorrhaging of her spiraling thoughts. Her gut churned, bile rising in her throat and she commanded her body to be still. Her urge to vomit quelled just in time to hear the familiar whirl of a vertibird’s engines approaching. Earth and grass whipped about and dirt was violently kicked up with the aircraft’s impending landing. Jackie covered her face with her arms, attempting to shield herself from the dust storm. As soon as the vertibird’s landing gear made contact with the ground she hoisted herself up into the troop load, despite the sickening feeling that still lingered.

A familiar face, clad in aviators and arrogance, greeted her when she clambered inside. It was always the same Lancer who retrieved her. The same pilot who had run transport for Danse and his team and who had taken Maxson to the bunker. He was the only one authorized for extraction from this location and even though words had never been exchanged, Jackie knew he knew and she wondered what price he had paid to keep their secret. 

He handed her a headset as she scooted by to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, the roar of the engines drowned out when she slipped it on. 

“Paladin,” His voice crackled through the earpiece, followed by a terse nod and salute. 

“Geers.” Jackie returned the gesture out of habit. 

For a moment Geers watched her, taking in her obviously disheveled state, but chose not to comment, “Ma’am, you’ve got orders to report to the Command Deck immediately upon arrival.” 

“Wonderful,” she scowled, “who did I piss on this time to be owed the pleasure?” 

A knowing look passed between them before he spoke, “The Elder knows where you go when you disappear.” 

Jackie said nothing and stared at her feet, the knots in her stomach twisting tighter. 

Geers allowed the void of conversation to stretch on before he added, “Maxson thought you weren’t coming back this time.” 

And there it was, the painful reminder of her violation. 

“Yeah, that was the plan, but...” She could feel his eyes on her, pitying her, questioning her. 

“...but what?” he dared to ask.

None of your goddamn business. 

Jackie wanted to snap at him. Put him in his place and maintain the distance held within the chain of command, but she bit her tongue because it was rude and Geers was one of the few people trusted. 

She twisted her hands together and mused her bottom lip. Should she tell him the truth? The truth would likely get him killed so Jackie decided on a half-truth. “There's been a recent development that requires my immediate attention back on the Prydwen.”  

Static hissed in the coms while Geers watched her with a frown hovering upon his brow. “You told him about Maxson...didn’t you?” he pressed her with the demand and sharp angel of his eyes when she didn’t immediately respond. “Jackie--” 

“Just take me back,” she snapped. It wasn’t a request, she was done playing games. Every second she spent dicking around with Geers put Danse at risk, they needed to leave--now.  

Geers cursed under his breath and Jackie could hear the eyeroll as he turned back to jab at the instrumentation panel. 

“Whiskey, golf, echo, seven, this is Lancer-Knight Geers en route to the Prywden.” 

Static droned in her ears, her stomach lurching when he abruptly jerked the stick to get them in the air. 

“Acknowledged, what’s your status Lancer?” the voice on the other end asked. 

“All’s quiet here.” Geers glanced over at Jackie, looking more smug than was appropriate for the situation. “But mission objective delta juliette is a go. Standby and I’ll brief you on our arrival.” 

More static and then finally air traffic control came back, “Roger that. You’ve been cleared for landing in bay two upon your arrival.”

“Roger out,” Geers responded and flipped a switch, cutting out the static.

Jackie regarded him with cinched brows, Geers wasn’t one for formalities. “What was that about?”

“Just…” he shrugged and peered over his sunglasses, “maybe you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

She shifted in her seat to fix him a hard glare. “I don’t think you comprehend the gravity of the situation.”

“And I think you underestimate my power of persuasion.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed.

“You’ll just have to trust me,” he smirked and turned his attention back to the horizon, “that maybe you--and Danse--still have some friends in the Brotherhood.”

God, she wanted to smack that stupid little grin right off his face. Somehow though, she managed to restrain herself and not feed his ego with the dignity of a response. Instead, she closed her eyes and hoped that whatever half-baked plan Geers had cooked up didn’t get them all killed.

[lilacasia]

[ voicelines ]

hello  —  welcome to my clinic  ,  i’m dr. casia vincent  ,  casia is just fine . . . no need for the intimidating title  ,  let’s start off with being friends and get more comfortable with each other.

good morning  —  have you had breakfast  ??  no  ??  let me make you some  ,  come  ,  sit  .  don’t be shy  !!  i like having guests over for a meal  !!

good afternoon  —  have you ever had the pleasure of having afternoon tea in the clearing near here  ??  it’s absolutely blissful  ,  enjoying the scenery with a cup of tea and sweet treats  ,  it really refreshes the mind

good evening  —  the day just flew by  ,  where does the time go  ??  there’s still so much to do  ,  but not enough time to do them  !!  sometimes i wish there were multiples of me  .  i wonder if that’s possible to do

good night  —  beauty sleep is real and it’s important for your skin and your health  !!  it’s no joke  ,  sleeping eight hours will do wonders for your body  !!

chat ( idleness )  —  hmm . . .i wonder if i might be able to make a wound freezing agent . . . maybe if i mix it with slime condensate . . . interesting . . . i need to look into this more

chat ( traveling )  —  it’s hard  ,  but for the sake of gathering materials and finding new resources  ,  it’s worth it in the end . . . plus  ,  i get to see new sights every time  !!

chat ( research )  —  i’m trying to come up with efficient and easy-to-use potions and remedies for people to use . . . ones that people can easily access and even make themselves for times when doctors cannot be reached

when it rains  —  goodness  ,  i guess our plans have to be postponed until a later time . . . as much as i enjoy a good dousing of rain  ,  getting sick is not that fun  .

when the sun is out  —  beautiful  !!  today’s the perfect day to go for a stroll and maybe even a tea break in the forest  .

when it’s windy  —  heavens above  ,  someone must have peeved the lord of wind . . . let us be careful on our way today  ,  it’s hard to tell what sort of things we may come across  .

about casia ( schooling )  —  i was mostly homeschooled until the age of 16 when my vision appeared . . . that was when my parents and i discussed receiving official schooling to learn how to use my vision properly and to further my knowledge  .

about casia ( career )  —  i became a doctor  ,  not only because my parents were  ,  but because i also enjoy helping people . . . i want them to be a better version of themselves  ,  it brings me joy to know that i can help people live to the fullest  .

about casia ( fashion )  —  i always find it so interesting how people dress in different regions . . . i unfortunately have yet to come across those from inazuma and snezhnaya  ,  but i do wish to know how they dress over there  ,  what the current style is like  .  i wonder if it’s like the trends here  .

about us ( potions )  —  here  ,  let me teach you how to make this potion without wasting a lot of resources  ,  you’ll thank me later  .  it’s really simple  ,  come closer  .

about us ( plants  )  —  these plants here are edible  ,  if you’re ever hungry  ,  give them a wash and eat them  .  it’s not much  ,  but it’s better than starving and running out energy . . . don’t put yourself in danger  ,  even if it’s just some plants  ,  it’ll give you a boost until you can find proper food  .

about the vision  —  a gift  ??  i’m not really sure how to explain how i feel  ,  but perhaps it’s a driving factor in wanting to better myself  .  had i not received a vision  ,  i would not have found myself so driven to use my ability for something and explore the world  .

anything to share  —  i know you already have a companion  ,  but if i may be so bold and ask . . . would you mind if i accompanied you on your next trip  ??  i’d be honored if you’d allow me  ,  i promise i won’t be a burden  !!

interesting things  —  if you’re looking for a refreshing tea  ,  take some mint and some sweet flowers  ,  grind them together and steep them in hot water for a few minutes  .  add a bit of honey and voila  ,  you have a sweet and minty tea that’s good for the palate  !!  it tastes good cold as well  !!

about albedo [ @likepyrite​ ]  —  a bold  ,  bold man  !!  he has definitely swayed my heart with his upfront confession  ,  he has me anticipating to hear and see more from him  !!  aside from that  ,  i respect him as a fellow alchemist and scholar  ,  i’m often amazed by the work he’s put out  .

about vlad [ @dayguard​ ]  —  my . . . one night hero  ??  people haven’t had the greatest opinions about the fatui  ,  but they are people with feelings  .  i’m less surprised that a fatui saved me than i am surprised that someone stepped in to help  .  i hope people understand that the people in the fatui aren’t . . . bad  .

about terry [ @spitefulgames​​ ]  —  a sweet and gentle boy  .  whoever hurt him and left him in the forest needs to answer for their crimes  .  he’s been a great help  ,  i just wish he’d stop feeling as if he owes me something . . . i did what i did because i wanted to  ,  not because i was expecting something in return  .  now . . . the other side of him . . . [ nervous laugh ] i’m not quite sure how to feel about him  .

about sucrose [ @naturalisstatera​ ]  —  sucrose is hardworking and dedicated  ,  i can see why sir albedo took her on as an apprentice  .  she’s got a curious nature and is willing to explore  .  i can’t wait to see what sort of research she brings to the table  .

about york [ @warblissed​ ]  —  the only person i’ve met that finds being in an emergency room romantic . . . truly  ,  york needs to find a better definition of romantic  ,  or archons save his soul  ,  he’s going to get dumped . . .

more about casia [ i ]  —  i grew up in a small farming region on the edge of mondstadt  ,  my family has a long history of being physicians and herbologists so we were kind of unofficially dubbed as the local hospital . . . we have many patients from nearby villages come for our help

more about casia [ ii ]  —  hm  ??  why do i keep looking . . . ah . . . you caught me  .  i’m just appreciating that gentleman’s fine physique  ,  it’s quite a beauty to see  .  he’s quite handsome too  !!  what a treat for my tired eyes  ,  i feel absolutely refreshed just by watching him move  !!

more about casia [ iii ]  — why didn’t i go home after i finished school and opened my own clinic instead  ??  well  ,  they have enough help at home already . . . they don’t need me to crowd them  .  plus  ,  my clinic is now closer to the library at the favonius headquarters so i have access to plenty of reading materials  .

hobbies  —  i enjoy making my own makeup and perfume . . . all natural and in very pretty shades  .  it’s a huge trial and error process  ,  but that’s the fun in it  .  some ingredients are harder to acquire  ,  but the result makes it worth it  .

troubles  —  i just can’t seem to find a set of earrings that match this outfit  !!  and even more  ,  now i have to redo my makeup . . . there’s just not enough time to put together a good looking outfit for the day . . . how upsetting  .

favorite foods  —  i prefer balanced meals  ,  nothing too salty nor spicy nor sweet . . . a meal with dessert  !!  i’m not picky about food  !!

least favorite foods  —  not picky at all  ,  i’ll eat anything that is edible and filling  !!

birthday  —  oh darling  !!  it’s your birthday  ??  why didn’t you say so  ??  come  ,  come . . . i’m gonna get you all dressed up then we’ll have a night in town  ,  everything’s on me tonight  !!

feelings about ascension ( intro )  —  wow  ,  i didn’t know i could do even more with my powers

feelings about ascension ( building up )  — now i’m giddy to learn what else i can do  !!  show me more  !!

feelings about ascension ( climax )  — so this is what it means to be a better you . . . amazing  ,  i feel like i’m constantly evolving  !!

feelings about ascension ( conclusion )  — incredible  ,  just when i thought i knew my abilities  ,  you have shown me a whole new world  !!  please  !!  do go on  ,  i wish to learn more  !!

battle and exploration

added to party  —  you won’t regret it  !!  /  i’m excited  !!

elemental skill  —  watch this  !!

elemental burst  —  don’t take your eyes off of me  !!

idle  —  same as chat lines above

dash  —  watch out for the mud  ,  these shoes are new  !!

gliding  —  oh dear  ,  i really hope this doesn’t mess up my hair

damage  —  ugh  !!   how rude  !!

knocked out  —  i was too hasty  /  i hope i have enough potions to heal

[hlupdate]

The 26-year-old pop star, who fixes an adoring gaze on Stevie Nicks whenever in her presence and flashes those pearly whites as he shimmies alongside Lizzo, is also an exceedingly polite flirt.

After expressing my appreciation of the rather grand music video for his latest single Falling, which had dropped a couple of hours before our chat, Styles thanks me “very much” and then returns the compliment.

“You have a fantastic phone voice … it’s beautiful,” he says.

All the best male pop stars across the ages – from Elvis to Prince, George Michael to Robbie Williams – have wooed female fans with songs of seduction balanced with heartfelt ballads exposing their vulnerability.

Styles learned the power, and the art, of pushing those buttons serving his pop apprenticeship with boy band One Direction, striking superstardom with the debut single What Makes You Beautiful through 16 other hits until they released their unofficial goodbye with the heartache-tinged History.

He kept that pop yin yang going on his 2017 self-titled debut solo album which featured the overtly sexual innuendo of Kiwi and the lament of a relationship in decline that was Two Ghosts.

Fine Line, his second record released in December to critical acclaim and chart domination, continued his exploration of the sex and sadness tropes and was hailed as a more confident pop album than his first.

Styles agrees, saying he wasn’t so much trying to find something new to say about something old but felt more comfortable in his songwriting skin.

“I wanted it to be free … having those kind of goals usually push towards making something exciting. At least exciting to me,” he says.

“When you make a new album and people say it doesn’t sound like the last one it’s yeah, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the last one. I think the goal on this one was to have no goal and just to see what would come out in the end.”

The videos for Fine Line’s singles also reflect the confidence Styles has developed in the decade since One Direction was formed via UK’s X Factor in 2010.

The sexually-charged Lights Up video featured a topless and sweaty Styles cavorting with likeminded party people while the aching piano ballad of Falling finds him drowning in a flood of “tears” from his instrument. The clip for another single Adore You is also water-logged.

Styles runs with it when I joke about the videos forcing him to face a fear of water.

“I do tend to end up somewhat damp in any video or shoot I’ve been doing in recent times. Maybe one day soon I’ll do something dry but for now, I guess not,” he says.

There is no doubt after five years in the One Direction camp where perhaps the five young men – Styles, Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik – didn’t have as much freedom as perhaps they would have liked, that Styles in coming into his own as an artist with Fine Line.

It was made with a closeknit group of creative friends including British artist and producer Kid Harpoon, American studio guru Tyler Johnson and one of his best mates Mitch Rowland.

He describes the making of the record – and everything that has followed from the artwork to the videos and now the world tour – as being “free” and “joyful”.

“Obviously I love the first album. I think when I listen to it now I feel like I was a little bit scared of getting it wrong … and played it safe in a lot of places,” he says.

“And I think with this one, it sounds so much more free and the making of it was more joyous and that’s been from the music to the videos, the album cover and all the artwork and stuff.

“That I guess has been the best part for me, that I’ve probably just been having more fun and having that freedom. And obviously standing behind the music you are putting it out makes it more enjoyable.”

Styles has also learned valuable lessons about what he doesn’t want after his One Direction experiences. He’s adept at evading paparazzi or hysterical fans who don’t respect boundaries, as evidenced by his recent brush with muggers while walking home one night in London.

No one caught that on cameras – and the opportunistic thieves who stopped him with an offer of weed before demanding his phone and cash clearly didn’t recognise the pop star in the hoodie as they threatened him with a knife. He managed to break away from the group and make it home safely.

Watching the Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber documentaries and witnessing the cyber bullying of successful artists including Australia’s chartslayer Tones and I provokes the question whether being a pop star in the digital age is now as much about navigating trauma as it is creative expression.

Styles credits the tightknit group of friends, family and co-workers for his mental health.

“A lot of the times when people have a song that blows up, it’s quite instant and I don’t know really what there is that can prepare you for that. But obviously there’s so many positive things about it. For the most part the pros outweighs the cons but for some people, they don’t,” he says.

“I think for me, I feel really lucky because I feel like an important part of it all is just having good people around you and I’m very lucky to have a great friend group and people I work with and my family really support me. That makes it a lot easier.

“It’s always been really important for me to separate my personal life from my working life and I think that helps me compartmentalise things to make it easier.

“But yeah, it can be difficult for some people … it’s just one of those things where it’s not really a normal thing and it can be quite strange. But it is also great.”

Styles will head back to Australia for his third solo run of shows with the Love On Tour in November.

With two albums – generating more than 3.6 billion streams – now to his solo credit, he’s loving the challenge of creating the perfect setlist, one that satisfies both the artist and his adoring fans.

On his first world tour, he covered Ariana Grande and Fleetwood Mac – and One Direction – and with his recent bust-outs of Lizzo’s Juice, may consider weaving that awesome track into the repertoire.

“Maybe, maybe … I’m sure it will make an appearance at some point. Maybe Watermelon Sugar Juice?” Styles says, before signing off with wishes to take care and telling me to “get yourself a radio show.”

Tickets for the Love On Tour concerts go on sale from 2pm on March 20.

Harry Styles plays Qudos Bank Arena on November 20, Brisbane Entertainment Centre on November 26, Rod Laver Arena, Melbourne on November 28 and RAC Arena, Perth on December 2.

[malibvnghts]

[ voicelines ]

hello  —  welcome to my clinic  ,  i’m dr. casia vincent  ,  casia is just fine . . . no need for the intimidating title  ,  let’s start off with being friends and get more comfortable with each other.

good morning  —  have you had breakfast  ??  no  ??  let me make you some  ,  come  ,  sit  .  don’t be shy  !!  i like having guests over for a meal  !!

good afternoon  —  have you ever had the pleasure of having afternoon tea in the clearing near here  ??  it’s absolutely blissful  ,  enjoying the scenery with a cup of tea and sweet treats  ,  it really refreshes the mind

good evening  —  the day just flew by  ,  where does the time go  ??  there’s still so much to do  ,  but not enough time to do them  !!  sometimes i wish there were multiples of me  .  i wonder if that’s possible to do

good night  —  beauty sleep is real and it’s important for your skin and your health  !!  it’s no joke  ,  sleeping eight hours will do wonders for your body  !!

chat ( idleness )  —  hmm . . .i wonder if i might be able to make a wound freezing agent . . . maybe if i mix it with slime condensate . . . interesting . . . i need to look into this more

chat ( traveling )  —  it’s hard  ,  but for the sake of gathering materials and finding new resources  ,  it’s worth it in the end . . . plus  ,  i get to see new sights every time  !!

chat ( research )  —  i’m trying to come up with efficient and easy-to-use potions and remedies for people to use . . . ones that people can easily access and even make themselves for times when doctors cannot be reached

when it rains  —  goodness  ,  i guess our plans have to be postponed until a later time . . . as much as i enjoy a good dousing of rain  ,  getting sick is not that fun  .

when the sun is out  —  beautiful  !!  today’s the perfect day to go for a stroll and maybe even a tea break in the forest  .

when it’s windy  —  heavens above  ,  someone must have peeved the lord of wind . . . let us be careful on our way today  ,  it’s hard to tell what sort of things we may come across  .

about casia ( schooling )  —  i was mostly homeschooled until the age of 16 when my vision appeared . . . that was when my parents and i discussed receiving official schooling to learn how to use my vision properly and to further my knowledge  .

about casia ( career )  —  i became a doctor  ,  not only because my parents were  ,  but because i also enjoy helping people . . . i want them to be a better version of themselves  ,  it brings me joy to know that i can help people live to the fullest  .

about casia ( fashion )  —  i always find it so interesting how people dress in different regions . . . i unfortunately have yet to come across those from inazuma and snezhnaya  ,  but i do wish to know how they dress over there  ,  what the current style is like  .  i wonder if it’s like the trends here  .

about us ( potions )  —  here  ,  let me teach you how to make this potion without wasting a lot of resources  ,  you’ll thank me later  .  it’s really simple  ,  come closer  .

about us ( plants  )  —  these plants here are edible  ,  if you’re ever hungry  ,  give them a wash and eat them  .  it’s not much  ,  but it’s better than starving and running out energy . . . don’t put yourself in danger  ,  even if it’s just some plants  ,  it’ll give you a boost until you can find proper food  .

about the vision  —  a gift  ??  i’m not really sure how to explain how i feel  ,  but perhaps it’s a driving factor in wanting to better myself  .  had i not received a vision  ,  i would not have found myself so driven to use my ability for something and explore the world  .

anything to share  —  i know you already have a companion  ,  but if i may be so bold and ask . . . would you mind if i accompanied you on your next trip  ??  i’d be honored if you’d allow me  ,  i promise i won’t be a burden  !!

interesting things  —  if you’re looking for a refreshing tea  ,  take some mint and some sweet flowers  ,  grind them together and steep them in hot water for a few minutes  .  add a bit of honey and voila  ,  you have a sweet and minty tea that’s good for the palate  !!  it tastes good cold as well  !!

about albedo  —   i respect him as a fellow alchemist and scholar  ,  i’m often amazed by the work he’s put out  .  he knows much i can learn about  ,  when i’m stuck  ,  i always seek out his assistance  .

about diluc  —  sir diluc is such an amazing person  ,  he’s shouldered so much  .  i respect him and well  ,  his tavern does have quite the delicious drinks  !!

about sucrose  —  sucrose is hardworking and dedicated  ,  i can see why sir albedo took her on as an apprentice  .  she’s got a curious nature and is willing to explore  .  i can’t wait to see what sort of research she brings to the table  .

more about casia [ i ]  —  i grew up in a small farming region on the edge of mondstadt  ,  my family has a long history of being physicians and herbologists so we were kind of unofficially dubbed as the local hospital . . . we have many patients from nearby villages come for our help

more about casia [ ii ]  —  hm  ??  why do i keep looking . . . ah . . . you caught me  .  i’m just appreciating that gentleman’s fine physique  ,  it’s quite a beauty to see  .  he’s quite handsome too  !!  what a treat for my tired eyes  ,  i feel absolutely refreshed just by watching him move  !!

more about casia [ iii ]  — why didn’t i go home after i finished school and opened my own clinic instead  ??  well  ,  they have enough help at home already . . . they don’t need me to crowd them  .  plus  ,  my clinic is now closer to the library at the favonius headquarters so i have access to plenty of reading materials  .

hobbies  —  i enjoy making my own makeup and perfume . . . all natural and in very pretty shades  .  it’s a huge trial and error process  ,  but that’s the fun in it  .  some ingredients are harder to acquire  ,  but the result makes it worth it  .

troubles  —  i just can’t seem to find a set of earrings that match this outfit  !!  and even more  ,  now i have to redo my makeup . . . there’s just not enough time to put together a good looking outfit for the day . . . how upsetting  .

favorite foods  —  i prefer balanced meals  ,  nothing too salty nor spicy nor sweet . . . a meal with dessert  !!  i’m not picky about food  !!

least favorite foods  —  not picky at all  ,  i’ll eat anything that is edible and filling  !!

birthday  —  oh darling  !!  it’s your birthday  ??  why didn’t you say so  ??  come  ,  come . . . i’m gonna get you all dressed up then we’ll have a night in town  ,  everything’s on me tonight  !!

feelings about ascension ( intro )  —  wow  ,  i didn’t know i could do even more with my powers

feelings about ascension ( building up )  — now i’m giddy to learn what else i can do  !!  show me more  !!

feelings about ascension ( climax )  — so this is what it means to be a better you . . . amazing  ,  i feel like i’m constantly evolving  !!

feelings about ascension ( conclusion )  — incredible  ,  just when i thought i knew my abilities  ,  you have shown me a whole new world  !!  please  !!  do go on  ,  i wish to learn more  !!

battle and exploration

added to party  —  you won’t regret it  !!  /  i’m excited  !!

elemental skill  —  watch this  !!

elemental burst  —  don’t take your eyes off of me  !!

idle  —  same as chat lines above

dash  —  watch out for the mud  ,  these shoes are new  !!

gliding  —  oh dear  ,  i really hope this doesn’t mess up my hair

damage  —  ugh  !!   how rude  !!

knocked out  —  i was too hasty  /  i hope i have enough potions to heal

[worldoffanficskpopcpop]

Hwang Hyunjin AU Fanfic Recommendation Masterlist

Hello! Welcome to my fanfic recommendations! If you would like to see other groups or other content in regards to this artist or their group, please click the links below! All of the masterlists/posts I’ve made will always be updated when I find new content or scenarios! Feel free to recommend me some blogs to check out! Also, you like my fanfic recommendations, please like and/or reblog so that more people can see it! I will release more groups as time goes on!

Go Back to Stray Kids’ Main Masterlist

Go Back to All Group Masterlist

Boxer AU

Bloody Knuckles: You wish Hyunjin would tell you when he has his match in advance, not like three days before it

Camp AU 

enemies to lovers!: camp counsellors y/n and hyunjin never get along,, until y/n drowns and hyunjin has to save them 

CEO AU 

sincerely,: Being the company’s youngest CEO of one of the top soju brands in the country does not get easier as the days pass. You’re forever thankful for your assistant, hwang hyunjin, who knows everything about you and what it takes to keep your head on your shoulders.

Delivery Boy!Hyunjin

Pizza Boy: you’re a usual customer at the pizzeria your friends work at, ordering pizza whenever there’s no food in your house; but when you realized the new delivery boy is super cute and makes your heart stop, what do you do? Order pizza all the time, obviously

Detective!Hyunjin 

Secret Panels and Paperwork: Seoul Police Headquarters is much more interesting than your old job, particularly the detective you’re now shadowing 

Husband & Dad!Hyunjin 

Fuck the Neighbors: Your son was a bit hyper today but Hyunjin was not in a good mood 

Told You: How do you lose a kid?!

Welcome Back: Hyunjin is away on tour and comes home early to surprise you and your guys’ son

Idol!Reader

A Bump in the Road: You and Hyunjin started secretly dating after your groups did a joint performance. Things don’t really go as planned when a jealous JYP trainee finds out and tells on you, but that only leads to defiance

“Baby.”:  You had a cute nickname and perhaps Hyunjin calls you that while you’re hosting a live broadcast.

Focus: You are an idol and have a collab stage with Hyunjin when you injured your ankle. Not wanting to burden him, you kept your injury to yourself... Maybe you should’ve told him beforehand.

idol!reader meeting hyunjin backstage: You, an idol known for your dancing skills, bumped into Hyunjin of Stray Kids backstage at an award show.

My Idiot: Dispatch sucks and posted pictures of our date

Rules: How did you end up in Hwang Hyunjin’s bed?

show: We got married show

Stages: He wanted to do a stage with me but wasn’t able too.

The Lovers Dance: Being a trainee is burdensome, but when there’s someone to help share those burdens, you begin to see the lighter side of things

Mafia AU 

Light and Darkness: Life with Hyunjin is sweet, Sweeter than you thought it would be. Darker than you wanted it to be

Photographer AU 

picturesque:  in which you fall in love with photographer!hyunjin 

Rich Boy!Hyunjin 

the city and you:  in which a rich city boy is forced to live in the countryside, but along the way, he meets you

Royal AU 

At War: Your country is at war with another, and your father sends you (the crown princess) to meet with the opposing country’s prince in an attempt to settle things

Magical: Hyunjin wants to fix his kingdom. The child of the person who destroyed it in the first place is the only one who can help

Whimsical: Prince Hyunjin was charming, whimsical and undoubtedly handsome, so when he visits your kingdom, you might just be swept off your feet

School AU 

Break a Leg: “And of course, you’d fallen very, very, very hard for him”

Bruised Knuckles: “His name’s Hyunjin. He apparently has a reputation in this town. No one messes with him, no one tests his word, he’s like a bad cliche of some sort.”

Heart Shot: You knew there was a reason you hated college parties, but this one was certainly a golden exception to your list 

Hyunjin asking you out: Hwang Hyunin. The innocent heartthrob of your high school. The person everyone admired, and the person you never really thought anything about 

Kisses in the library: You two are trying to study together in the library but Hyunjin has something else in mind.

Love At First Dance: the person you thought was special to you shunned you, rejected you. There is a prince charming to save you, and you see it only as an unemotional form of revenge. But you soon realise he could mean more to you than anyone in the world.

Lovelorn: The state of being sad because of the problems love brings. Stupid projects mean even stupider decisions when you’re in college 

Muse: where he wanted an easy grade but it was your favorite subject and now he’s helplessly infatuated

Nothing More: you are best friends with Hyunjin, the most popular guy at school.

Pretty Cute: The moment Hwang Hyunjin snatched the unofficial confession from your desk (which he was definitely not supposed to read), you knew you were royally screwed

Smoke: You’re  an infamous school druggie, always coming to school with bloodshot eyes, purple  bags, and cracked, bloodied lips. Rumors are nothing new to you, and in all honesty you don’t fight them - you don’t want to waste time on meaningless drama, after all. Everything starts to change, in a way, when a quiet easily amused boy comes to your school - and you wouldn’t have had it any other way

tell me again (why i love you): hyunjin confesses his love for you (or not quite) after he decided it would be fun to pin you to the lockers in the boy’s changing room. 

Soulmate AU 

Filling the World with Color: in a universe where soulmates share the common factor, which is having matching hair colors. out of everyone, you’re soulmate happens to be hwang hyunjin, the boy who doesn’t know how to stop dying his hair.

full of love: when hyunjin’s world becomes dim

it’s knot you:  Two people connected by the red string of fate are destined to be lovers regardless of circumstance. What happens when the red cord malfunctions and miraculously appears between two strangers?

Lavender Flowers:  “Let's get married.”

Lucky Ducky: If it wasn’t for your rubber ducky, maybe you wouldn’t have met your soulmate 

Purple Looks Good on You: In a world of various soulmate bonds - you’d landed yourself with a reciprocal pain bond - the only problem was your soulmate had a tendency to get into fights.

Sweet Tooth: While most of your friends are connected to their soulmates by tattoos, dreams, or voices inside their heads, you are connected to yours by taste; it wouldn’t seem so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that everything they ate was sweet 

Symbols: Everyone is born with a symbol that matches with their soulmate, except you and one certain boy 

that was the end of it:  hyunjin asked you to tie his string of fate to someone else, to manually change his soulmate, when he didn’t know you were his soulmate. you did it. 

Time Travel AU 

2030: Jisung has a time-machine and somehow you and Hyunjin end up in the year 2030

back in time: You fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time

bits of stardusts:  traveling back in time is fun, especially when hyunjin wants to know all about modern day life Time Travel AU Part 2

forward in time:  A prince from the Goryeo Dynasty in the twenty-first century only calls for trouble.

Waiter!Hyunjin 

Double Date Disaster: you’re dragged to a horrible double date but maybe it gets better

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.4

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: my hope is that the idol industry can one day become a safer place for those who have dedicated their lives to making others happy ❤️

-

“Let me guess, you’re the type who needs to feel needed but also pushes people away?”

“How would you know that, Bunny Boy?”

“It’s my power.”

“You have powers too?” Snow blinks her pretty blue eyes. “Can you read minds?”

“I certainly can’t read minds,” Bunny Boy laughs. “But I am pretty good at reading hearts.”

“Oh yeah? What’s my heart feeling right now?”

“Well for starters, you seem to be annoyed by me prying too deep.”

“You are annoying.”

“And you also think I’m kinda cute.”

“I do not!”

You giggle into your phone screen for the hundredth time as you read through the latest Witch Hazel update. With the reveal of another character with secret powers, you wonder what Snow will make out of him. A friend? An ally? Or perhaps just someone who gets her.

Beneath the last comic panel of Snow rolling her eyes at the unofficially named Bunny Boy, you find cute little comments from the author.

“all i hope is for snow to take care of herself during this hiatus”

“even if it’s only a tiny amount, maybe witch hazel can help supplement as new snow content for now;;;;;;”

“ah i didnt mean to sound as if i were anywhere near snow’s level or anything;;;;;;”

“i just hope she knows she doesnt have to carry any burden all on her own”

“she has people on her side”

Your face doesn’t know whether to smile or shed tears, so you do a combination of both. It’s true, you’ve always felt alone. Always. No matter how many staff members it takes to produce an album or how many fans buy that album, you’ve never once felt that people could look beyond your idol music, your icy eyes, your mask.

But that’s exactly why you’re taking a break. You need to separate your worth from the music attached to your name. You need to prove to yourself that you’re more than what the critics and magazines say. And you’re only realizing it now that you can’t do it alone.

If only you had your own jk.seagull in your life. You’re sure the two of you would mesh well together.

-

“Where is that kid?” Taehyung pats the empty seat next to him before class starts. “He never skips class. I remember one time he literally rejected a date with a super cute girl because he ‘had to get to class’. Can you believe that?”

“Knowing Jungkook, I’d believe it,” you shrug. It does feel oddly empty without his presence, though.

“Oh really? You know all there is to know about the mysterious phenomenon that is Jeon Jungkook? It sounds like you guys got real acquainted on that date the other day.”

“It wasn’t a date, Taehyung. It was a meeting for a group project that you didn’t show up to.”

“Well it all evens out since Jungkook didn't show up today. Who knows, maybe you won’t show up tomorrow.”

“I’m sure he has a good reason for being absent. Unlike you.” You have to admit, it does worry you a little. Especially after the hints of doubt Jungkook expressed about his own beautiful art. You wish he knew how amazing of an artist he really is.

“What are you talking about? My reason was valid.”

“Having your cock sucked for five hours straight is not a valid reason, by the way.” You roll your eyes. “Let me guess, today you have a threesome scheduled after class and dinner date at 5?”

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh, Y/N.” Taehyung pretends to be offended, but he doesn’t deny your comment either. “You’re really his type, you know.”

“I’m whose type?”

“Jungkook’s.”

“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I’ve said this before, but you’re a lot like Snow.”

“How?”

“In how you present yourself,” Taehyung says. “You and her both come across as cold and heartless, but somehow I don’t buy it.” He doesn’t buy what? That you’re just as much of a bitch on the inside too? Ha.

“Jungkook must have weird taste then,” you shrug. Because in your opinion, you’re not exactly an easy person to love.

“But-” Taehyung is cut off by the professor starting class. You don’t know what more he could’ve said to make you change your mind anyway.

“There won’t be any lecture for today’s class.” Your professor is busy typing away at her computer, perhaps trying to get caught up on paperwork and grading old assignments. “Instead, I want you all to take this time to work on your group projects. You may leave the classroom if you must, but remember to stay on task!”

With that, your classmates jam out of the room as if they were just freed from prison. You hear a couple of friends deciding which boba place to try out. Another group, the overachievers of the class, head somewhere outside to actually work on the project. Taehyung, too, looks as if there’s somewhere else he needs to be.

“So I-”

“Go ahead and get laid,” you sigh, shooing the boy away with your hand. “We’ll work next time when all three of us are here.”

“Thanks, Y/N! You get me,” Taehyung waves bye before dashing off.

You wave back as the hall clears out around you. It seems everyone else has found somewhere to go. Everyone except you.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Buzz! You jump at the sudden phone notification that seems to echo off the walls of the empty hall. Oh look, it’s a text from your only friend.

10:32AM jinnie❤️ “good morning ^O^// just checking in on you”

10:33AM jinnie❤️ “how are you holding up with everything?”

“I’m fine!” you mumble rather aggressively to yourself, sliding your ass down onto the filthy hallway floor before texting back. Your chunky guitar case sits in your lap like a baby so it doesn’t get dirty.

10:34AM Y/N “i miss seeing you at work everyday :((((”

10:34AM Y/N “lololololol jk”

10:35AM Y/N “fuck work, am i right”

10:36AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N”

10:37AM Y/N “😒”

10:37AM Y/N “im fine”

10:38AM jinnie❤️ “thats exactly what people say when theyre not fine”

But you are fine. You’re completely fine with sitting all alone in an empty hallway, texting your only friend who also happens to be your manager.

10:39AM jinnie❤️ “what are you doing now?”

You pick up your guitar and start walking away. Obviously, you can’t tell him what you were actually doing because it would worry him too much. But you can’t lie to him either.

10:41AM Y/N “if you really must know”

You wait until you arrive at your new location before answering Seokjin’s million-dollar question. You’ve found your place.

10:45AM Y/N “im practicing in the music room before my theory class starts”

He sends you the Surprised Pikachu meme but also a few supportive comments.

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “good luck!”

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “and if you ever need something, please reach out to me!”

10:47AM jinnie❤️ “ill be checking in on you every now and then, but please enjoy your time off~”

10:48AM Y/N “thank you seokjin”

With your manager off your back, you settle into the empty music classroom and pull your trusty guitar out of its case. The flat and out of tune strings remind you of how long it’s been since the last time you touched the guitar. Because despite carrying it around wherever you go, it’s all for show.

In all honesty, you’re too afraid to let others hear, and yet, part of you wants them to know. You want them to know you’re an artist in your own right—without the judgment. But that’s asking for too much from this cruel world. Especially when you know you aren’t there yet.

One by one, you turn the pegs on your guitar, fine tuning each string by ear. That’s always been your secret talent, and maybe that’s how you’ve never been off-key since the moment you said your first words. If there was one thing you had going for you as an idol, it was that.

Once all the strings are tuned, you just sit there, staring at your fingers curved naturally in the C chord position. The muscle memory is still very much ingrained in you, but so are the scars. The last time you actually held your guitar, you were told you weren’t good enough. So you ended up settling for something else.

Today, however, you want to change that. You shouldn’t let several people’s opinions determine what you can or can’t amount to just because they were the professionals of the industry who supposedly “knew” what they were doing. They didn’t know you then, and they certainly don’t know you now. They don’t even know your real name.

But that’s okay. Having a secret identity makes you feel as though you can someday become a true superhero, someone who makes the world a better place from behind the scenes. In that sense, you want to be someone like your current favorite person on the internet, jk.seagull. You don’t know him, nor do you know his real name.

All you know is that his craft makes you happy.

With the funny fanfic boy in mind, you glance up to make sure the coast is clear before taking your first strum. Despite the dullness of your old worn-out strings, what your ears hear is crisp and bright.

-

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since you began singing along to a melody only you know, but you’re suddenly pulled back into reality with a single mention of her from outside the classroom.

“What do you think about the Snow news?”

“It’s honestly sad.”

“With how little she contributes to her music, I really don’t think she deserves a break.”

“She should just keep going. How hard is it to sing a few songs? I hope she knows she’s letting a lot of people down just so she could relax.”

“Or better yet, she should just retire early.”

You set down your guitar on the piano bench. You’ve heard quite enough and you’re ready to slam the door on the noisy group passing by. But by the time you peek your head out from the crack, the group is already at the other end of the hall. You do, however, find a surprise sitting right outside the music room.

The boy who was supposedly too sick to come to class is too busy sketching away to notice you staring at him.

“How long have you been sitting out here?”

The tiny hairs on the back of the boy’s neck stand up as his drawing hand freezes at the sound of your voice. He turns around, looking up at you as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Since I started sketching.” Jungkook shows you a simple yet pretty drawing of a flowery spring field. By his art standards, it couldn’t have taken him long to draw that one page.

But it isn’t until you start flipping through the rest of the pages in the sketchbook that you realize he’d been sitting there for quite a while. Each page is similar to the last with only slight differences in between. When you fly through the pages like a flipbook, you see the whole picture.

From the first sketch of spring flowers, snow slowly covers the field until only a single flower remains in a winter wonderland. If you go in reverse, you can watch as the snow melts away until that one flower disappears amongst its brethren.

“What kind of flower is that?” You point to the one that somehow managed to blossom through the thickness of the snow. Maybe if it were colored in, you’d have a better idea.

“A strong one?” Jungkook shrugs as if he’s not the artist who knows the the answer. You hate yourself for cackling along at his lousy joke. He closes his sketchbook as a way to change the subject. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Funny you should ask. The professor dismissed our class to work on the group projects. And then Tae ditched to go do his usual skirt-chasing shenanigans because somebody in our group didn’t show up.”

“Sorry,” the boy bites his lower lip with a hint of regret. “I didn’t really feel well enough to sit in class today.”

“Then why didn’t you just stay at home?”

“I still had this project to turn in and finish for my other class.” He raises his sketchbook. “And besides, music is the best medicine.”

You feel your cheeks burning up. The last person you expected to catch you messing around with your guitar in the music department was the art student who was supposed to be out sick. “How much did you hear…?”

“All I heard was one song…” He assures you for a slight second before going in for the kill, “…that you kept replaying over and over and over-”

“I get it. You heard a lot,” you hiss. “You better not tell anyone! Not even Tae.”

“I won’t,” he promises, chuckling at your distress. It seems the kid’s gotten comfortable enough around you to start clowning you. “It’s a nice song, by the way.”

“Really?” You want to believe him, but you have a hard time doing so. When all you’ve heard was brutal criticism for the past few years, it’s difficult to accept any compliment without feeling like there’s ill intent behind it. It feels wrong to feel good about yourself.

Besides, maybe he’s just complimenting you out of obligation. Like he’s trying to be nice, even if he doesn’t actually feel that way about your song.

“I’ll burden the pain so you don’t have to,” he says.

“What?”

“That’s a line from the lyrics, right?”

You nod.

“It’s a very Y/N thing to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs and swirls his Sailor Venus keychain around his index finger. “Just take it as a compliment, Y/N.”

If not for his soft teasing smile, your mind would still be filled with doubt. Instead, you accept the compliment and gain a tiny bit of confidence back.

“Come in for a second,” you start walking back inside the music room. “And close the door behind you.”

Jungkook does as he’s told, his eyes glued to your guitar as you pick it up off the piano bench. There, you do something you’ve never practiced but had always hoped to perform as Snow—your own acoustic version of one of your songs.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve never practiced or touched your guitar in years. You know the key, the chords, the strum pattern. And you know how to make it your own. Not Snow’s or anyone else’s.

When you’re done with your mini acoustic performance, the boy can’t help but chuckle. He’s about to clown you again. You can feel it.

“What??”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s seems like you don’t hate Snow as much as you lead on.”

“I was only trying to show how I would’ve done the song if I were her.”

“Ah, so you criticize Snow so much because you think you can do better?”

“Not necessarily better… just differently.” You hope that answer is enough to satisfy the boy. But it’s not. He only nods with an awfully suspicious smirk. “What now??”

“It’s cool that you want to be a songwriter.”

“I never said that I did,” you say with a slight pout and hmph. You’ve never once mentioned your true dreams to anyone besides maybe some random kid at camp when you were ten. You’d hate to announce your bold aspirations with the utmost confidence, only to flop and fail before achieving anything. You’d rather keep it a secret until you perhaps “pop-off” as the kids say.

“Sure.” He doesn’t believe you.

“Are you always this sassy when you’re sick?”

His long locks flow as he shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now, actually. Thanks to your medicine.”

Maybe the kid was faking his sickness all along. Then again, Taehyung did say Jungkook wasn’t the type to skip class under most circumstances. Perhaps there was something else that was bothering him.

“Wait, you weren’t upset about Snow’s hiatus, right?” You remember the gossip from the noisy group that had passed by earlier. The beating you took from their words still stings.

“To be honest, I was worried about her at first with everything that went on,” Jungkook says. “But I think she probably just needed some time away from all that.”

“Probably,” is all you say, doing your best to downplay the amount of relief his words gave you. He isn’t upset or let down; he just wishes the best for your well-being. And as an idol, that’s all you’ve ever asked for. “You know, you’re the nicest Snow fan I’ve ever met.”

“You know a lot of other Snow fans?” Jungkook tilts his head at your odd statement. Oh right. You’ve only really met other fans as Snow, not as Y/N. Now you sound suspicious.

“Oh yeah, for sure. My friend, Seokjin, reads Snow smut all the time,” you force out a laugh while making a mental apology to your manager. Then you decide it’s best to change the subject before you blow your cover. “Speaking of fanfiction, I need your opinion on Witch Hazel!”

“What about it?”

“The new bunny character.” You whip out your phone for direct reference of the comic. “He’s funny, right?”

“He’s good at teasing Snow,” Jungkook looks at your phone screen of the bunny saying that Snow thinks he’s cute. “I wonder if he’ll make her fall for him.”

“I want him to.” Your eyes light up without knowing. To have Snow fall in love is wishful thinking, but a large part of you craves romance deep down—even if it’s only for the fictional version of yourself. “But at the same time, he’s not Snow’s type.”

“What’s Snow’s type?”

“Huh?” You somehow managed to fuck up again, so you shrink yourself and hope to disappear. “I don’t know… Why would I know what Snow’s type is…? It’s probably not a playboy like the bunny, but I wouldn’t know that…!”

“So you think she’d like someone more… considerate?”

You nod. “Probably just someone who takes the time to get to know her.”

“I guess we’ll see in the upcoming chapters.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You can’t quite hold back a smile. After all, your day always feels a lot better when it involves your favorite little comic.

Jungkook must’ve noticed your face because he makes a comment. “I am curious, though, as to why you like Witch Hazel so much when you clearly don’t care for Snow herself.”

“For me, it has nothing to do with Snow.” To mask your smile, you make a cute duck face instead. “Reading it just… makes me happy.” As much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s been a long time since anything has given you good vibes the way that one comic does.

“That’s good,” the boy says, gathering his things to head to his next class. “It’s the same for me with Snow’s music… in case you were wondering.” And with that, he leaves you with something to think about.

If Snow’s music is Jungkook’s medicine, Witch Hazel is yours.

-

By the time you get home from school, you’re still smiling like an idiot after what Jungkook had said. Snow’s music makes him happy, and the mere thought of that makes you happy. It’s in (very rare) times like this that you remember why you chose to become an idol in the first place. It’s why you endure the pain.

With your mind clouded in an unfamiliar wave of emotion, you pull out your phone and tap on Jungkook’s contact information. After changing his contact name to something cuter, you start composing a casual message just to say hi.

Jungkook. What if I told you a secret?

Delete. You’ve never deleted a message so quick. You don’t even know which secret you would’ve told the boy. That you’re his crush, Snow? Or that he’s yours? Not that you have a huge crush on him… You swear it’s just a tiny one!

Regardless, you shouldn’t be sharing any of your deepest secrets with him—at least not for now. It’s not that you don’t trust him. It’s just that it’s a tricky situation to be in.

Your eyes move from your guitar, to the stacks of handwritten sheet music beside it, to the album that won you your first award—where the pain all began. Even the most supportive fan could not imagine what you’ve given up to be the idol that you are, to be someone with a name.

The only thing you can do now is take it all back. And only then will you let Jungkook in. But until that time comes, you don’t belong to him or anyone else.

4:44PM Snow “Are you free to talk?”

4:46PM Jimin “Yeah”

[7-wonders]

M A S T E R L I S T

*denotes smut

+denotes completed series

Updated 10/23/20

Michael Langdon

Series

+As Above, So Below--Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23

+Shatter--Your coven is at war with the Antichrist, who has sworn to bring about the total destruction of the world. The only problem is that your mortal enemy just happens to be your boyfriend, Michael Langdon. After the coven decides that your relationship can't stand, Michael takes action.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Epilogue 

Mad Love--A normal evening of studying quickly goes wrong when you’re kidnapped. Things somehow manage to take a turn for the worse when you find out why: to be the bride of the Antichrist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

Oneshots

And God Made Eve to Bear the Curse (vampire!Michael)*--Michael wants one thing, and one thing only–to drink from the oasis between your thighs.

Chord Progressions--In the post-apocalyptic world, you find music to be the only thing that makes living in an underground bunker with a bunch of spoiled rich people tolerable. The time finally comes for your interview with the mysterious Cooperative member, Langdon. Will you find your way to salvation? Or will there be more questions than answers?

Bathe Me In Blood*--After your numerous questions, Michael invites you to observe as he conducts one of his rituals. The turn that it takes is a welcome surprise for both parties. 

Late-Night Reading--Your new friend Michael (aka the Antichrist) asks you to read to him one night after he has a nightmare.

Ride It Out--The end of the world is terrifying, even when you’re the Antichrist’s lover. 

Driver’s Ed--Michael really wants to learn how to drive a car.

A Sanctuary Within the Sanctuary--The end of the world is more difficult to deal with than you had anticipated. Michael, appreciative of how you’ve stuck by him, decides to show you his thanks. 

Practice Makes Perfect*--Michael wants a baby. You want a baby.

In the Clouds*--After a heated argument leads Michael to show you who’s in charge, you float off into the clouds.

Baby Love--You find out you’re pregnant, and now comes the hard part: Surprising Michael.

Sacrificial Lambs--What you thought was just going to be an event to meet the members of Michael’s Satanic church turns into a ritual sacrifice, followed by your unofficial ‘dark’ baptism. As any normal person, you don’t take the murders of two innocent people well. 

Hurt--After an intense fight, Michael inadvertently causes what he does best: Hurt.

Sweet as Cyanide--Michael makes his final decisions for the Sanctuary, and leaves you with a cryptic warning about the upcoming Halloween party.

Without a Word--You’ve always been the light to Michael’s dark, the one who makes everyone smile instead of the one who scares people with a mere glance. Michael has never seen the clouds that lurk inside of you, threatening to spill over and ruin your carefully-constructed image. 

Twilight, Eat Your Heart Out (vampire!Michael)--Pondering your own mortality is never a good long-term solution, especially when you have to compare it to the immortal vampire you’ve found yourself entangled in a relationship with.

Family Man--Michael brings his family along to the last Outpost after realizing that he’s not willing to sacrifice his loved ones for his father’s plan.

Lost In the Shadows--As a naturally curious person, the odd mannerisms of your elusive new boss pique your interest, making you determined to figure out who, or what, he is.

Thinking of Sin (CAOS!au)*--Michael, having fully embraced his title as Antichrist and heir to the throne of Hell, invites you to join him as his father’s church, the Church of Night, celebrates one of their most sacred holidays: Lupercalia, the festival of passion.

Creature of the Night (vampire!Michael)*--Michael indulges one of your secret fantasies on Halloween.

Heaven & Hell Were Words to Me*--A surprise takes a turn that should be sickening, but instead only serves to draw you even further into the web that Michael has woven.

Labyrinth King!Michael headcanons

Vampire Michael Musings

The Thrill of the Chase--Your path once again crosses with Michael’s, this time under much more dire circumstances. Life and death, specifically yours, has suddenly never been more prevalent in your mind.

Marry the Night--Outpost 3 has never been quiet. When you awake and find that, for the first time in months, there’s nothing but silence, you’re determined to get to the bottom of it. Soon, you’ll wish that you had stayed in bed.

Warm and Real and Bright--A Tangled!AU, with Michael as a dark Flynn Rider and reader as Rapunzel.

Duncan Shepherd

Series

Love Me Now+--Meeting Duncan’s family for the first time, you’re faced with the glaringly obvious facts: You don’t belong. 

Part One | Part Two

Memento Mori--When being in the wrong place at the wrong time lands (Y/N) in the blood-stained hands of D.C.’s most notorious crime boss, Duncan Shepherd, she finds herself unexpectedly in his debt. Perhaps owing the dangerous man a favor would be more torturous if he weren’t so engaging.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Beauty and the Beast!Duncan Shepherd AU

Wilted Roses Smell Just as Sweet--How Duncan came to become the monster that he is when he and reader’s paths cross.

This Place of Wrath and Tears--Jim is missing, and nothing can prepare you for what you stumble upon in your quest to find him.

A Gentleman’s Guide to Wooing Your Prisoner--You begin to resign yourself to life in a prison cell, when things somehow manage to become even stranger. Alternately, Duncan deals with his staff and fellow prisoners having hope for the first time since the curse was placed on his home and everyone in it.

This Cruel Trick of Fate--A quick blurb from Duncan’s POV.

Down the Rabbit Hole--You make a decision about your stay at the enchanted manor, but at what cost?

Oneshots

Gala Blues*--At a political gala, you’re ridiculed and objectified by some of Duncan’s colleagues. A fight ensues between you and Duncan, continuing to a standoff that can only end in one way.

 Kiss Me Through the Phone--The Republican jerk who follows you on Twitter turns out to actually be kind of nice. You’re more than content with him just being an internet acquaintance, but plans change when it turns out that he’s going to be attending the same event tonight as you.

Come Out and Play*--Your boyfriend, Duncan, has a few tricks up his sleeve to help you relax after the stressful day you had.

From the Desk Of...*--The mandatory class you’re forced to take this semester is enough to make you consider dropping out of college. The only thing that makes it bearable is your teacher: Professor Duncan Shepherd. He’s smart, handsome, witty, and, not to mention, twenty years your senior. 

Like an Animal* (werewolf!Duncan)--Duncan finds himself in big trouble when he gets trapped in an elevator with you the night before his shift and in the midst of his heat. (Werewolf!Duncan Shepherd)

Service With a Scribble--Duncan’s a dick to a cashier, and (Y/N) decides to get back at him with a healthy dose of kindness.

Violent Delights* (incubus!Duncan)--Accidentally summoning a seductive incubus leaves you between a rock and a hard place, but do you really want out of this as much as you claim?

As the World Falls Down--You’ve stood by Duncan through thick and thin, but when the true intention of the app he’s been developing is revealed, everything crashes down around you.

Inside Out--After one too many instances of Duncan being the token stuck-up rich guy, you’re ready to show him how the rest of America lives by taking him through a day in your life.

All the Time In the World--Life has thrown you a few curveballs lately. Between absolute chaos wreaking havoc at your job, being too busy to sleep and your schedule not meshing with Duncan’s, you’re stressed beyond measure. So stressed, in fact, that you don’t notice you miss your period until you’re two weeks late. 

Duncan Shepherd NSFW Alphabet*

Jim Mason

Oneshots

Kiss of Fire*--You only want what’s best for Jim, and that includes staying clean of drugs. Jim, who’s been bottling up his true feelings for so long, finally snaps after he finds out you flushed his stash. 

Half of My Heart--Jim was supposed to be better now. After his psychotic break, you and Medina had made sure that it was impossible for him to slip back into his old habits. But the morning comes, and so does the realization that he’s been lying to both of you. 

Xavier Plympton

Truth or Dare--A oneshot of Xavier being dared to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, and you’re the one that the group chooses to go with him.

Still Lovin’ You--You’re smoking weed with Xavier in the back of the infamous Vanta-C when things get a little steamy.

Shot Through the Heart--Being a ghost, you could handle. Your boyfriend killing people? Not so much.

Welcome Home (Sanitarium)--After two years, Xavier returns to the spot where he nearly lost his life...and where you did.

Cum On Feel the Noize*--Xavier has ideas on how to spice up your boring shift.

[7team7]

I’m twenty when I’m with you: chapter 6

Chapter title: Soulmates

Summary: Soulmate AU: Of course. Who else would it be?

chapter one / two / three / four / five

A/N: last chapter :) almost 3k words woohoo please enjoy

Age twenty.

Everyone looked forward to adulthood as marked by turning eighteen. Everyone couldn’t wait to get past nineteen, just to be that much closer to twenty. While it was rare to never meet your soulmate, everyone hoped to be able to spend the rest of their days with their soulmate, as teased by turning age twenty. 

Age twenty was when soulmarks appeared on the body. Plenty of people met their soulmate past the age of twenty, but just having the soulmark to look at, having that first meeting to look forward to, was exhilarating. It honestly helped Sakura get out of bed each morning, knowing that her soulmate was out there — but then she’d look back at Sasuke and feel torn. What if it wasn’t him? Could it be anyone else?

Some young couples would be disappointed when their significant other didn’t have their corresponding mark, but they usually knew in their heart of hearts that any romantic relationship outside of a soulmate wouldn’t quite measure up. A soulbond went beyond just choosing each other. You could love a lot of different people in a lot of different ways: as a friend, as a teacher, as a family member. But you can only love one person as your soulmate.

.

At age twenty, Sakura was beautiful. 

She had always been pretty, had always been cute, but she truly bloomed as a young adult. Maturity and confidence suited her. 

At age twenty, Sasuke was beautiful.

He had been praised for his looks all his life, but his heart felt lighter than ever with each passing day and it was reflected in the way he smiled more often. A greater sense of peace suited him.

.

Sakura woke up on her twentieth birthday to a purple diamond decorating her once detested forehead. She felt beautiful. She had accepted it as one of her defining features and something about the placement of her soulmark just felt right. It made sense that whoever her soulmate was, they would love her forehead too. It was childish, but she used to have plenty of daydreams about her handsome, yet elusive soulmate kissing her “charming” forehead.  Sometimes, before she fell asleep completely, she thought she felt a pair of lips ghost across her forehead. 

More importantly, a girl can dream, but a twenty year old can wake up each morning and choose the love herself. Maybe she’d be the one kissing her soulmate’s forehead.

Sasuke immediately noticed the appearance of Sakura’s soulmark when she came into the kitchen for her birthday breakfast, but chose not to say anything besides happy birthday and congratulations. It didn’t make sense to pine over a girl who belonged with someone else, no matter what his heart told him. Right?

The pull between the two was undeniable, but neither wanted to be disappointed by mismatched soulmarks. They could just be really, really good friends. Sasuke wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Just being friends would never feel like enough for him. 

The days at school came and went, with the unofficial couple spending more and more time together. (Roommates can’t avoid each other forever!) Summer used to be what they looked forward to most, a time they anticipated for weeks: sweet freedom, a break from classes, the warm sun kissing their skin. They’d both still be in Konoha for the summer, but they would be living in their respective family homes and Sakura had a feeling Mebuki wouldn’t take too kindly to Sasuke constantly sleeping over.

Sasuke’s birthday couldn’t come any sooner. He just wanted to weight on his chest to be lifted, he just wanted to know already. Then he could cope with the aftermath. Then he could go back to school and throw himself into his work. But he had been having trouble sleeping without her. How would he explain to his soulmate that he dreamed of someone else?

Sakura was counting down the days, too. After July ended she would know if she had to look elsewhere for her soulmate. It terrified her to think of letting Sasuke go. She wasn’t sure if she could ever just be friends with him. Knowing him, living with him, was a privilege she never wanted to be without.   

.

To his surprise, Sasuke’s soulmark manifested in his left eye. He now saw the world through one familiar dark eye, and another purple eye. It would certainly take some getting used to. Maybe he should grow out his bangs? What would Sakura think? 

He had only just woken up and examined his new eye in the bathroom mirror when the doorbell rang. He sighed, hoping it wasn’t Naruto. He just wanted some peace this morning. He was incredibly pleased to open the door to pink hair instead of blonde. 

Sakura had shown up to his house to wish him a happy birthday in person. She had missed him. If she wasn’t his soulmate, this was going to be embarrassing. But it couldn’t be helped, she couldn’t stay away. 

His left eye pulsed gently the moment he laid eyes on Sakura and her purple soulmark. There was a relaxing, cooling sensation running through his body, like ice had finally thawed away, melted by spring sunshine, and only leaving water. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this kind of relief.

Sakura’s eyes, still his favorite green, widened when she saw him. She had to feel it too, the pull between them. She was silent for a moment, stunned by the revelation, until she finally breathed out, “oh, it’s you. Of course. Of course it’s you.” It had always been him, but the confirmation made the rest of the world fall away, her thoughts were only SasukeSasukeSasuke. She kept staring at that beautiful, fated mark on his eye. Belatedly, she noticed how his hair had gotten longer.  

Sasuke tugged Sakura inside his house, hoping his family wouldn’t bother them. He placed a kiss (the first of many) on her forehead, right on her soulmark. If it wasn’t her, then he wasn’t Sasuke. He knew he could be the best version of himself with Sakura by his side. She was pressed up close against his body just breathing in his scent when he finally decided to tease her, “yes, it’s me. Were you expecting someone else?”

“What would you have done if it wasn’t me?” “I don’t want to think about that.”

She didn’t continue the conversation, not trusting herself to hold back the tears. She didn’t want to think about life without each other either. Sure, she could’ve gone on to do plenty of things without him, like graduate and get a job, but part of her would have always been a little empty. 

Their soul marks had a particular feel, a gentle buzz, as if they were better versions of themselves now that they could safely fall into each other. Sakura liked to think that if they were superheroes, her power would come from her forehead, and his from his eyes. They’d make quite the world-saving duo. Perhaps in another life. 

“You look good. You look cool,” she finally spoke again into the quiet darkness of his entryway. The Uchiha household was only just waking up.

“Thanks, but don’t you kind of have to think that?” “You’re my soulmate, I’m attracted to you for reasons beyond just physical.”

“So you think I’m ugly? You’re stuck with an ugly soulmate?” She smiled up at him as she cupped the left side of his face, the side adorned with his new soul mark, “I never said that. I don’t think you’re ugly, Sasuke, far from it. You’re a very beautiful person. But I do think you’re just a little snot who already knew that and wanted to hear me say it.”

He smirked then sighed, “maybe. You’re my soulmate, can’t hide anything from you. I guess I have to confess now.”

“I already know what you’re going to say,” she started dramatically, holding up a hand, “Sakura, you’re perfect and beautiful and smart and I love you. I know, I know. I can’t read your mind, but I do know these things.” 

“Annoying.” 

.

When he told his family, his mother huffed and asked if he knew before and that’s why he was so insistent on living with her during school. He had just shrugged. How was he supposed to know? 

Well, maybe, in a way, he did know. Had known for a long time. Who else could it have been if not Sakura? It was always going to be Sakura. 

Sakura helped his mother make him a birthday breakfast and it felt like she belonged in the Uchiha household. She belonged near him. He could safely expect a lifetime of birthday breakfasts from her. Anything less would feel like robbery.

Being twenty would treat them well. So would all the years to come because they finally, truly had each other. 

.   

“Does this mean we’re going to keep living together?” “We already renewed our lease for next year.” “I meant forever.”

“We’ll see,” he teased lightly, “what if you become an awful roommate this year?”

“Awful roommate or not, I have a feeling we’re stuck together.” 

He tapped her on the forehead, “not sure why you think that. I’m sure you could shake me if you wanted.” Sakura’s hand came to touch the spot his fingers left, and she blushed. “Not sure why I’d ever want to get rid of you. Who else would warm my bed at night?” 

“You’re lucky you don’t snore.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute. You’re so mean to me.” 

Sasuke stepped even closer to her, lowering his face to be eye level with her. “Sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” he breathed. Sakura blushed deeper, stammering like a fool. She kissed him hard just to shut herself up. 

.

The rest of the summer was spent in easy companionship. Life felt less rushed knowing they’d be together no matter the season. If anything, time felt like it was going backwards as they did all the things couples do. Sakura knew about Sasuke’s greatest ambitions and fears, but she was still shy when holding his hand in public. 

Sasuke learned that his girlfriend, his soulmate, liked to call everything a date: a dinner date, a FaceTime date, a movie date, a study date, a shopping date. It was cute. It was nice that someone looked forward to spending time with him, even when he was grumpy. But to be honest, he was rarely grumpy around Sakura. 

He was exceedingly good to her. Just because two people had a soulbond, it didn’t always mean their relationship was perfect. Like anything else, it required effort. But it was easy together. He would always pick her, always see her, always think of her. It was hard not to. 

And she had always treated him with more kindness than he felt he could ever deserve.

.

“When we go back to school and meet new people, what should we introduce each other as?” “Won’t I just call you my soulmate? It would be a little excessive to introduce you as my roommate who is also my girlfriend and most precious person and best friend—oh, did I mention my soulmate? We wouldn’t make very many friends going around like that,” he huffed, cheeks coloring in embarrassment as he realized how much he said out loud. 

“Wow,” Sakura smiled cheekily, “I didn’t know you felt that way about me, Sasuke.” “Yes you did,” he sighed in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. And if she didn’t, he had plenty of time to prove it to her. After all, they were only twenty years old. He only hoped she’d believe him before a lifetime went by. 

.

“I hate moving. I hate packing. I hate unpacking,” Sakura grumbled as she set down her heavy box full of clothes in the center of her room and looked around at all the work she still had to do. It didn’t really make sense to keep two rooms anymore, but she needed somewhere to store her clothing and books for now.

Sasuke brought in a second box also labeled as Sakura’s clothes. “We’ll only have to do it a few more times. Then when we graduate we can buy a house and live there forever and ever. There, no more moving or packing and unpacking.” 

He said it matter-of-factly, but it still made her heart flutter. She turned away from her boxes, hands clasped behind her back and asked him eagerly, “so what kind of house were you thinking about?”

.

“How many books do you own? There’s no way you had to buy all of these for classes.” Sakura glanced over at Sasuke tearing the tape of yet another box full of books. “Some of those are for self study, some are for class, others are just to read for fun. Don’t you have a lot too?”

“No, not this many. because I’m a normal person. You got class valedictorian for a reason.”

“Because you gave it to me.” “We both know that’s not really true. I simply knocked myself out of the running and did you a little favor,” Sasuke said. It was a little embarrassing to think about how even then, even when they were nothing more than classmates, he was still whipped for her. He supposed he better get used to it.

.

Sakura’s stomach growled and she realized she had been so preoccupied with unpacking that she didn’t eat much during the day. But since they had just moved back into their apartment, the cabinets were bare. She decided to treat herself a little and order in. Right before she ran downstairs to grab it (“It says my Postmate is here with my order!”), Sasuke joked, “don’t fall in love with the guy.”

Sakura gave him a meaningful look before she headed out the door, “I couldn’t even if I tried.” 

.

“Why do you still use a shower caddy? I haven’t used mine since we lived in the dorms.” Sasuke barged into the still steamy bathroom to brush his teeth after Sakura had showered. He felt a little pervy because he at first was disappointed to see that she was all wrapped up in a fluffy robe, but she did look adorable, so he couldn’t complain. 

“I have a lot of stuff and I like it to be organized in one place. Problem?”

“Hm, you do have a lot,” he agreed as he started poking around. “Ew, why would you put snail mucus on your face?” “It’s good for your skin, I swear! Try it sometime. Makes you glowy and stuff.” But even with the face mask nights Sakura insisted they do together, she had a feeling she was glowing for a reason outside of her skin care. Maybe this soulmark of hers had some sort of youth preserving powers too because she seriously looked great. 

.

“It’s been such a long week and we just started classes,” Sakura complained. She came home from lecture, opened up her laptop only to shut it immediately. 

“It’s Friday,” Sasuke offered in reassurance. “We can just stay in, have a drink or two.” That sounded awfully appealing. Her summer internship allowed her to shadow a doctor, one Tsunade Senju who became her mentor and introduced her to more alcohol than any college party ever had. Sakura eyed the cabinet she stocked last weekend. Drunk Sasuke meant pink cheeks and whispered confessions. 

The week had felt like it was dragging on, but it would end on a high note. 

.  

“I’m back,” Sasuke announced, removing his shoes by the door and dropping off his backpack.

“Welcome home,” Sakura greeted warmly from the couch. “How was your test?”

“Fine, the usual. Just glad it’s over — What is it? What are you doing?”

Sakura had been sitting with a blanket covering her lap when he walked in, but she had raised it to gather up under her chin. His questioning gaze and dark eyes made her want to cover her face completely. “Nothing,” she answered with a quiet reluctance. 

He crossed the room to place a kiss on her forehead and examine her face. “Are you cold? Are you sick? Your cheeks are a little pink.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she said, feeling silly as her face burned hotter. “It’s just that...you’re so handsome!” she blurted. She felt embarrassed, it’s not like this was the first time she had seen Sasuke, but she would always be in awe of him. 

Sasuke stayed silent as he lifted the edge of the blanket and settled himself on the couch next to her, pulling her closer as he got comfortable. She couldn’t see the tiny smile form on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“What? Am I not allowed to be near my girlfriend? Is she too pretty for me?”

“Hey!” she knocked him over so he was laying flat on the couch and she clung to him like a koala. She felt perfectly content and could probably lay that way forever. Being around Sasuke gave her butterflies, but it also felt like coming home. It was a strange mix of feelings, but something she was looking forward to having for the rest of her life.

Sasuke ran his fingers up and down her spine, the other hand planted firmly on her hip. She was warm and soft and he wanted her to stay there forever. It was cute how every time he leaned up to kiss a random spot on her face, she burrowed even deeper into the crook of his neck with a slight whine. It was cute how her hands were gripping his shirt so tightly. And even when his eyes fluttered shut and he dozed off, he had a feeling she looked really beautiful at that moment.

.

.

A/N: Sasuke with his soulmark: I see. (Literally)

I hope you enjoyed this and my awful puns. I’m not much for multi chap stories but this was fun to write! Charasuke came out a little bit in this story but I don’t mind haha Also sakura gives me “kiss HIS forehead, call HER daddy” vibes 

Thank you everyone for waiting patiently and for reading and commenting, it really does mean a lot!! 

[jo2ukes]

Hello! I’m hildahilda from tumblr and I saw you taking prompt requests for 50 ways to love your partner (which has become one of my fave dmileth fics). May I suggest... Dimitri and Byleth debating/arguing over political concerns or having long horse rides together? Just getting these ideas from their paired ending lol. Thank you!

HELLO LOVELY!!! Aaa your comments are always so sweet i always look forward to reading what you have to say slkdfjslkd  thank u for requesting smth ilysm~

I’m SO SORRY this took so long - I’ve been working on it off and on, but I slacked off too much at work last week so things kind of blew up and I’ve been living off of energy drinks. THAT BEING SAID, this is for YOU!!! I’m gonna upload to ao3 later as well, just not rn bc I’m at work lol :-)

spoilers for like. post game and blue lions stuff, though i tried to be pretty vague!

It was never typical for diplomatic meetings to go smoothly. Not that Dimitri is naïve enough to expect them to be easy. Even in times of peace, there are always areas for improvement. Dissatisfactions to be addressed. Relationships to maintain. Something about having his work cut out for him makes these meetings easier – though solving the issues are certainly more time consuming. Uniting Fódlan has been no small undertaking and he is grateful for all the assistance he receives from his friends. He is painfully aware that destruction is his forte – his hands and mind have only recently been converted to the goal of healing and restoration. To lead, you have to be able to both destroy and create, Byleth has told him. She’s right. United Fódlan and the relative peace they have now wouldn’t exist had he not destroyed Edelgarde and her dissenting Imperial forces. While the beast in him once relished in the idea of putting an end to El’s machinations, taking her life was one of the most painful trials he’s had to endure. The perspective motivates him. Encourages him to listen to his people and create a world where no destruction is needed, where no one is unjustly taken.

 He constantly reminds himself of this goal. It makes the sleepless nights worth it.

 The current roundtable has gone on for hours at least – Ferdinand, Lorenz, Byleth, Seteth and a handful of other nobles – mostly from former Faerghus territories – are in attendance. Unofficially, Ferdinand speaks for nobles of former Imperial territories, while Lorenz speaks for former Alliance territories. They’ve been instrumental in the restructuring efforts. While the three of them were not particularly close before, Dimitri counts them among his close friends now.

 “I hate to mention it on top of everything else,” Ferdinand bites his lip, “but there’s one last item I feel needs to be addressed before we adjourn. We’ve had trouble with the Western Church in the Aegir territory. We’ve repelled a few initial attacks. At first we thought it was bandits, but… well, we’ve confirmed the worst. Normally, my pride would never allow asking for assistance, but with our resources and attention spread out as it is, namely correcting my father’s corruption, I’m not sure this is a matter I can handle solely on my own. I don’t want to cause any more chaos in my territory than need be.”

 “You are correct to bring it up,” Dimitri says, furrowing his brow. “Aegir territory is a long way to go to cause trouble.”

 “If the Western Church is mobilizing again, it will certainly affect the trade routes we’ve established,” Lorenz observes. “The few merchants that can afford to travel certainly can’t afford losses to their inventory or company. Our trade routes are the most vulnerable. As former Imperial lands are in the most chaos, what with the complete restructuring needed post-war., it makes sense the Western Church, whatever their goals may be, would seek to cause disruptions there. If we truly seek to provide aid and maintain good relations with the nobles in the south, surely this conflict requires more attention. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looks back at Ferdinand.

 “Respectfully, yes,” Ferdinand nods solemnly. “Though, I understand the Central and Western Churches have their summit planned later this month, which surely makes matters precarious.”

 Eyes turn to Byleth and Seteth.

 “You are correct,” Seteth nods, addressing the nobles. “We are aware certain sects of the Western Church are mobilizing, though we had not heard of any activity in the Aegir territory. You can trust the matter will be dealt with. Her Grace has asked that I lead a fraction of the Knights of Seiros to investigate these disturbances while she attends the summit later this month. Ashe wrote to us several weeks ago, disclosing Western Church movements in the Gaspard territory once again. Since then, we’ve been keeping a watchful eye.”

 “How watchful, if they are mobilizing in areas you are not aware of?” Lorenz asks. “Your Grace, your Highness, I know the Church is quite busy with restructuring efforts, but perhaps it would be wise to focus more resources in this area.” He taps his upper lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps if we sent forces that were not affiliated with the Church it wouldn’t complicate things at the summit. The Western Church can feel safe in trusting the Central Church, and the people can feel safe that something is being done about these attacks.”

 “I agree,” Dimitri hums after a beat. “Very well. Seteth, I want you to take some of Fhirdiad’s knights with you. As things are a little more stable in the capital than anywhere else, it is less of a burden on our resources. Ingrid and her company should be available, I believe. I’ll send word they’re to accompany you back to the monastery. I’ll want to be kept in the loop, of course.”

 “With all due respect, your Majesty,” Byleth says, clearing her throat, and breaking her silence, “this is a Church affair. While I appreciate your offer for assistance, we must decline.”

 “On the contrary,” Dimitri shakes his head, “It stopped being a Church affair when it started threatening to plunge all of United Fódlan into another war, your Grace. These are not random attacks, they seem rather targeted.”

 “The Western Church simply does not have the resources or manpower to launch a full-scale war,” she shakes her head. “I do not believe that is their intention this time. They’re recovering just the same as the rest of Fódlan. If you’ll remember, the last time the Western Church created conflicts, there was a larger power at play. As relations with the Western Church are already delicate at best, I’d ask that you let us investigate internally first, at least until the summit has concluded. A month’s time, that’s all I’m asking.”

 “It is not that I distrust your ability to manage your own, I simply wish to prevent further harm to the already suffering villages.”

 “I understand your concern, your Highness. My wishes are the same,” she straightens her back, looking him square in the eye. She looks truly regal and imposing. For a moment Dimitri thinks it’s a shame the others get to observe her in her authoritative splendor, that it’s not a look only he can witness. But the thought only lasts a moment – he’s more than familiar with that determined glint in her eye. He’s in for a fight.

 “However,” she continues, “I cannot hope to restore faith in the Church if we are constantly shown to be unable to handle our own. Say what you will, but Edelgarde’s war has damaged the Church’s reputation, strengthened seeds of distrust. Whether that distrust was well-placed or not is of no consequence. The reputation of the Church must be restored. Through transparency, through rooting out corruption and self-serving officials, so be it, but it must be handled by the Church. We’ve only just concluded a war built on that same distrust – what message would it send if the King had to step in? How would that offer any reassurance to the people that things are different?”

 “You suggest, then, that the people will be more willing to accept the Church should be allowed to continue to govern its own?” he asks, folding his arms.

 “I’m suggesting we be given a chance to prove ourselves. If the leaders cannot trust the Church, the people cannot hope to hold the same faith.”

 “It is a risk,” Ferdinand interjects, “but I believe Her Grace has a point. Restoring faith in the Church should be a priority, and that task begins with our actions here.”

 Lorenz and Seteth both begin to speak, but whatever they start to say is lost to Dimitri and he focuses on his wife’s voice, rising above the others. When she and Dimitri disagree on topics, the others in the room cease to exist to the two of them. While they do not always agree, he trusts her above all else. He respects and values her opinion, as she has led him down the right path time and time again.

 “Rather than bandaging a severed limb,” Byleth continues, “We should treat the root of the problem. I believe this is not the Western Church, but some unnamed force. Without revealing too much of my own hand, I have reason to believe Edelgarde’s… unsavory allies may have resurfaced.”

 “Is this truly information that should be held by the Church alone?”

 “For the time being, yes,” Byleth nods. “As you said, we do not want to cause further damage to those that are already suffering. Mobilizing too early may do just that. Again, a month is all I ask.”

 “If Ingrid and her company were instead mobilized to the Aegir territory to assist in repelling potential attacks in the meantime, would that be sufficient?” Dimitri asks. It’s more of a thought than a command. He’s willing to let Byleth win this round as he can’t begin to fathom some of the complications that come with running the Church. He takes an interest, supporting her how he can. In private, she tells him of her duties and concerns – an odd topic of conversation for pillow talk, but he likes that she trusts him with some of her burdens and worries, as she’s helped him shoulder his own for so long.

 His main goal is to protect the people. Byleth has always been better at keeping her attention toward the future, while his attention is usually focused on the short term. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons their compromises work so well. Sending troops to assist Ferdinand would fulfill his intention of keeping the villagers safe, at least until the end of the summit. Not to mention, the increase in feelings of unity.

“I have no qualms with that solution,” Byleth says, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

 “We would be grateful for your assistance,” Ferdinand addresses Dimitri, giving a slight bow of his head. “I’m humbled, your Majesty.”

 “It’s settled then. I will pass word along to Ingrid,” he scribbles a note for himself. “In the meantime, perhaps we should adjourn for the evening?”

 A collective sigh of relief seems to spread throughout the hall. The various lords stand, bowing to Dimitri before exiting, ready to rest and enjoy the few hours of downtime they have before meetings resume again the next morning, servants coming to escort them to their various rooms. Ferdinand and Lorenz excuse themselves as well, familiar enough with the castle they feel comfortable roaming the halls without guidance.

 Once the room is empty, Dimitri turns to his wife who stands behind him.

 “I thought that went rather well,” he says, offering his hand. She takes it. “Though the Archbishop seems quite determined to give me a hard time,” he jokes. She squeezes his hand gently.

 “You’ll have to forgive her, your Majesty. I hear she’s rather stubborn,” she smiles up at him before standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

 “If that is official guidance from my Queen, I suppose I shall take it under advisement,” he laughs. The two of them walk hand in hand through the corridors. “You’re sure the investigation into the Western Church won’t be difficult for you, beloved? I worry about your safety.”

 “I can’t promise the investigation won’t come without dangers,” she replies truthfully, “but I will exercise caution. I have Seteth watching out for me.” She sighs, her mood immediately lightening, “At any rate, that’s enough talk of politics and official business. I asked Cyril to saddle the horses before sundown. If I haven’t been too stubborn, perhaps you’d like to join me?”

 “I’m quite fond of your stubbornness, you know,” he smiles, letting her lead the way to the stables.

 “I know,” she laughs.

[lovelyirony]

You said to remind you to write something with Vanilla Twilight and Tony

Tony was never much of a child for the science side of space. He didn’t get over the moon excited learning about black holes and interesting facts about planets, but what he did love was Anna’s explanation of the stars and the moons and everything. She told him every story she could, some even made up ones. 

She told him during the silent nights, when the only thing that broke the sanctity of it all was nightmares, was that the stars were there for every happy thought you had. Every happy one you had? Another star added up. Tony would try to think happy thoughts, and Anna laughed as he said he was trying to make another constellation, one that isn’t as lame as Cygnus. 

“You will one day,” she says. 

She tells him about how when she was younger, she wanted to live in the stars. Anna touches her arms lightly, remembering something that Tony would never hear from her. He tells her that he thinks they should remake the constellations with their own stories. 

They make one involving Anna and Tony having a picnic. She laughs silently as they look up. He orders a telescope so they can look at the planets to truly decide what name they should have. (The only one they don’t change is Jupiter, but that’s because Tony doesn’t like that one.) 

He looks up to the sky and thinks of Anna always. The way her hair barrettes would be decorated in stars. She had a small picture of when Hedy Lamarr was in that movie, the one with her fancy gown. 

“She was the best in that movie,” Anna says. “Edwin was fond of Judy Garland, but that’s okay. He’s allowed to have a less refined palette sometimes.” 

“I heard that,” Jarvis calls from the kitchen. Anna looks at Tony and giggles. 

As he gets older in life, there is less time to look at the stars. People like facts, and Tony has to learn more things about business and economy and stock and he really just doesn’t want to. But that’s the way of the world sometimes, isn’t it? There are many things one does not want to do, but there are many things the world has to do. 

But he still remembers their talks of stars. For her birthday, Anna receives a beautifully embroidered pair of gloves, laughing as their “rose” constellation is designed on the tops of the hands. 

“Thank you, Anthony,” she says softly. “I love them.” 

They keep in touch, even through all the countless schools Howard sends Tony to. Anna will send him her delicious recipes for scones and soup and everything else, Tony carefully setting the notecards in their own separate box. He can’t let the other boys know about it, but he cherishes them deeply. 

(And surprises many later with his culinary skills.) 

When he’s seventeen, he comes home. There’s the Christmas break at MIT, and he’s supposed to be having a family holiday or what have you. Maria said he needed to be present for a picture show and then that was basically it. 

Tony comes home with three separate bags, one laden with presents for Edwin and Anna Jarvis. 

He forgets sometimes that they’re older than he’s always thought. Anna isn’t moving around too much anymore. But he embraces her fully and asks her to sit while he gets the tea. Usually, she would protest. But not this time. 

They talk about his college days, Rhodey, and what they’ve been up to. Anna will be retiring in a month, which is news to Tony. But he’s glad. 

“More time to stargaze,” Anna says, smiling over her mint tea. “Maybe I’ll make some more constellations.” Tony smiles, and says he’ll join her. 

They share Christmas/Hanukkah gifts together. Tony feels the warm candlelight on his face as Jarvis puts on the Tchaikovsky record that is his favorite for the holidays. 

Anna dies in her sleep one month later. January 24th. Tony can feel the stars dimming, the constellations reshaping now that their favorite is gone. He can’t look to the planets with their silly names that he used to. 

Jarvis grieves heavily. He loved his wife dearly, so much that he would move a country for her. 

“In time, there is always healing,” the words say. But Tony hates that phrase. He hates that there has to be time, hates that he still feels so torn. And you don’t get over a death. 

Her starry gloves are still resting on her nightstand. Her rose water perfume to the left, right by the first necklace Edwin had ever bought her. There is a picture of her sisters and mothers when they lived in Austria. 

When he can’t sleep, Tony goes up. He makes sure Anna’s seat is right by him as he talks. He tells her about how much full of it that time travel movies are. (He never cursed in front of her, and will continue not to.) 

When he can’t sleep, he’s looking out at the stars. He buys some, to name them after Anna and her sisters. 

As time continues, it’s easier to talk to her without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss surround him. He talks to her about how much he hates that man of the board, but at least he has a personal assistant now. He nicknamed her Pepper, and he’s sure she’ll be the one to stick around for the job. 

Rhodey knows about his talks, advises Pepper over a quiet breakfast. 

“He’s not crazy, but he’s talking with someone he lost,” Rhodey says. “Leave him be, he’ll be fine. He’s not one to jump over the roof or shit like that.” 

“Got it,” Pepper says. She’s curious. 

He has a little trellis and garden at the top of the roof, and two faded sun chairs. One has been repainted, taken care of. He talks to a woman named Anna, who Pepper finds out is his oldest friend and one of his most-loved people in the world. 

Tony thinks about the stars in Afghanistan. Remaking his own star. He had wanted to grasp at them when he was younger, bring one down for Anna to see. She had laughed, and told him that if anyone could do it, it’d be him. 

Well, damn. He was making the fucking star. 

He remembers her warm hands on his skin as they talked outside, remembered that he would do anything for her and her memory. He wasn’t going to die in darkness, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure he at least saw stars. 

There is another person lost. But Tony makes sure that he is cared for, laid to rest where none can disturb him. 

“You’ll see her in the stars,” Tony promises to him, after the talking is all done and he can barely move. “Anna will greet you in the stars.” 

He looks up, and hopes to whoever listens to this sort of thing that he gets out of it alive. 

As it turns out, Rhodey’s odd fondness for geocashing has its uses. He finds a giant shiny thing, and grins. 

“How do we know it’s Tony?” one of the younger lieutenants asks. Rhodey turns. 

“No one else has such a stupidly brilliant plan as Tony,” he says. “Let’s bring him home, guys.” 

Tony stays on the roof. He doesn’t meet Obie, refuses to. All he tells anyone is that he saw things that have changed him, and the weapons department was shutting down immediately. He saw something in Obie’s eyes, much more than surprise. 

“Anna, you’ll never believe the star I have for you,” he says to the empty space. He feels a breeze ruffle his hair as a response. Perhaps a I know, love. I know. 

He has to guard his heart, his star. He reforges it, makes it a better star. He builds an iron suit, like the one Jarvis used to tell him about in stories of brave knights and people who needed rescuing. 

He remembers all of Anna’s stories about heroes who would go to the stars for their loves, for their worlds. It’s always at the back of his mind. 

And then he finds out it’s the main damned role as he falls from space, nuclear warhead exploding in front of stars. He could’ve sworn he left a new constellation afterwards. 

Heroes would go to the stars. He really wish he couldn’t be one. 

It’s fine, until he’s fighting in cold conditions and he’s thinking at the end so this is what a star feels like. Endlessly cold. He’s thinking about stars as he looks at kids who have all the hope in the world, all the happy endings possible. He sees stars when he looks at Peter Parker, the kid who is so brilliant but so naive. 

“Remind you of anyone?” Rhodey teases him over breakfast one morning. “He’s an awful lot like you, Tones.” 

“I resent that implication,” Tony scoffs. Because Peter? Oh, he can be better than Tony. He can be the true hero, the hero who gets the happy endings and the families and the retirement. 

Then the stars bring Tony something. Or rather, someone. Thanos. The guy who takes everyone away. 

Mr. Stark please I don’t want to go I don’t want to go I don’t want to go–

He stops using an alarm clock. He can’t anyway, when he’s stuck in space. Near death. But at least he has Nebula. 

He tells her about the stars. About how if you were lucky, you could swing on the moon and get star dust on your clothing. Nebula says nothing as he rambles about Anna and stars. 

They’re running out of food. And water. And everything. 

The stars, apparently, think Tony isn’t done being the hero yet. Or rather, being alive. There’s a woman outside the window, looking at him strangely. 

Her name is Carol Danvers. According to Rhodey, she’s the biggest legend of the Air Force. Tony just thinks she’s okay, she just has weird nineties music taste. 

(4 Non-Blondes? Seriously?) 

But he gets home to Pepper and her fancy perfume, her loving arms, and Rhodey crying because “holy shit, you’re here.” 

But then Steve. Steve, who was never there, who always likes to play pretend until he claims it was a reality. 

I needed you. 

He leaves. He needs to. He and Pepper buy a cabin that’s rundown. It needs a ton of work. Luckily, Tony can do this after a while. Pepper decorates the whole space. 

She’s the one who frames the picture of Tony and Peter, the one of Howard gets dragged out. A reminder of time changing. 

Pepper and him have a small, very very unofficial wedding. Pepper wears her favorite white dress, Tony says that she’s his wife, and they go to bed. 

Two months later, Pepper comes yelling into the house with 

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” Tony laughs as she nearly trips over her own foot, then immediately worries. 

“You’re not allowed to be a clutz anymore, we grew a human.” Pepper’s eyes widen. 

“Oh god, what if we can’t do this?” 

“We can,” Tony says. “Baby, if you want to, we can. I know we can do this.” 

So they prepare. They think about names. At first, Pepper doesn’t want Morgan to be a name. But then they hate everything else. And Morgan seems like a good fit. 

Morgan Anna Stark-Potts. 

“Welcome to the world, little star,” Tony whispers. 

When she cries, he takes her to the roof and tells her the planets’ names and the constellations. He tells her about roses and stars and heroes. She’ll fall asleep again, but he’ll be there. He talks to Anna while she sleeps. 

“Bet you never thought of this one,” he murmurs. “Me living in the forest with my wife and a kid. You told me I’d probably end up being a cyborg with my fascination for robots.” He laughs as he remembers. “I still miss you.” 

He looks up, and for a split second, the center of the rose constellation they had made up just sparks a bit brighter. 

And at the end of everything. 

At the end. 

He’ll be in the stars too.