#we'll see where it goes! for now it goes here. probably

[rey-jake-therapist]

Ok, here am I again posting another TROP/Haladriel meta... Feel free to mute me if you can't take it anymore, these are gonna be two long weeks as there are still two episodes left...

We're having a lot of discussions about what we'll get to see in Episode 8 (maybe even a bit in episode 7??), and it's really great and exciting to speculate about what will happen when our two love birds mortal enemies finally meet again.

It seems to be the general consensus that Sauron will try again to convince her to be his queen. Now I may be the dissonant voice, but I personnally don't think it will be that straightforward.

Charlie said several times that Sauron was pissed that Galadriel rejected him, but that it wasn't the end of the world, for him. Meaning: he totally believes he can make it without her.

To the Nerdist, he said :

"Speaking of your old screenmate, Sauron asked Galadriel to be his queenOpens in a new tab at the end of season one of The Rings of Power. How much, if at all, does he still want that by this point? And does he think it’s a possibility? Vickers: I think he probably does think it’s still a possibility because he has this hubris and this self-love. He thinks he’s really cool, and he thinks, “Well, she rejected me once, but next time I come back for her, she won’t reject me again because I’ll be so powerful she won’t be able to.” But I don’t think he necessarily wants that. I think his initial proposal to her was to join him, and they could be king and queen of Middle-earth, but really, he would’ve been king, and she would’ve been his righthand woman. Any kind of dreams he has involve her being number two and him being number one."

(I would love to see him try to submit Galadriel to his will, btw. I mean, c'mon man)

To Collider, he said,

"His getting rejected definitely leaves him with this sour taste in his mouth, and he goes away thinking, “I can make this right.” Whatever that means to him. That's one of his throughlines in terms of his motivation or goals for this second season is how much he's driven and how much this relationship gives him a sense of purpose."

And to Schön:

That connection will endure as long as the show endures because although they might not be together in proximity when we pick it up, he’s pissed off that she has turned his pitch down [laughter]. That drives him to think, I can make her join me, or I’ll make her pay for this.

Here, there's also an interview he gave for Total Films, where he reveals that there's a "huge amount of urgency in each of them trying to obtain what they want in that situation": https://x.com/totalfilm/status/1830244276539654595

I'm sure I've read an interview where Charlie said that Sauron would probably want to taunt Galadriel with what they could have done together had she said yes. Edit : found it! Interview for TV Insider.

Second to his lust for more rings is Sauron’s desire to get the Elven rings back. “While he didn’t directly touch them, which is a big thing this season, [Galadriel] has this ring that he put all this effort into, and he wants that back,” Vickers admits. Sauron “covets” these jewels, “and particularly hers,” he explains, “because he knows what they represented when he was making them.” Sauron feels “taunted” and “pissed off” that Galadriel rejected him. That makes getting her ring back personal, but Vickers insists that “he’s past ruling with her.” That won’t stop him from showing her “what could have been, what you could have had,” Vickers teases.

Of course Charlie can't give much away. But so far, it matches with what we saw in season 2 : he's in Eregion, forging his rings of power with Celebrimbor, he's visibly happy (just kidding, the man looks exhausted and depressed), but sometimes he can't help but think of Galadriel.

I love how the experience is completely different for him, from it is for Galadriel: while she had a bittersweet flashback of her and Halbrand in the Southlands, he gets lost in the contemplation of Mirdania's hair because she reminds her of Galadriel, and manifests images in his mind palace that also remind him of her (there are several posts about all this on Tumblr, including one of mine... I won't enter into the details again).

It would be very OOC of Sauron to display an outright nostalgia for the time he spent with Galadriel as Halbrand, imho, even if it was only for the audience to see. He's not supposed to be sad and nostalgic, but pissed at her for rejecting him, and determined to move on and to obtain what he wants without her in the picture. He's probably annoyed af to see his thoughts shifting towards Galadriel while he's in the middle of something very important. He's in his "the fuck with her" phase of the breakup, which pretty much matches what Charlie said. In his hubris, he believes that once he has his rings, he will be so powerful that Galadriel will have no other choice than joining him. She hurt his pride, so now he wants to relish the sight of her submission to him.

Regarding the mind palace scene, precisely the one where the guy tells the Galadriel look alike he wrote a poem : it probably remained unnoticed by most viewers, but I think it's very significant that this scene arrived at THIS moment. Let me explain:

To convince Celebrimbor, Sauron first assures him that when the story of this age is written, the Silmarils will be "no more than a whisper". Of course it's meant to motivate Celebrimbor who always wanted to create something that would be remembered, like the Silmarils. But it can be interpreted as a personal goal for Sauron as well :

1) Morgoth found the Silmarils so beautiful that for weeks, "he could do nothing but stare into their depth".

2) Fëanor admired Galadriel's hair so much it gave him the idea of imprisoning and blending the light of the Trees, and three times requested a tress of hers (she always said 'no').

The two people he loved/admired but hurt him the most are connected to the Silmarils in a way, so he could see the creation of something "more precious" as a personal challenge. After he promises Celebrimbor that his rings of power will be "deemed the most precious creations in all Middle-Earth", and Celebrimbor returns to his workshop, his attention is caught by the sight of a couple. The man (whose face remains unseen, because he's a just a self-insert) tells the Galadriel look alike :

"I've written a poem, but I fear your beauty still overshadows anything I could possibly write."

Of course we joked about Sauron's pathetic attempt at poetry (it's terrible lol), but imho there was a deeper meaning to this scene. I think it was his subconscious manifesting what he already knows deep inside of him : that without Galadriel's light, there will ALWAYS be something missing. That what he told Celebrimbor was a lie, no matter how much Sauron wants it to be the truth. The Rings of power are his poem, but Galadriel's beauty/light will always overshadow it.

Hence why it's pretty much granted that he will try to "get Galadriel back". He'll show her how powerful he is now that he has the Nine rings, and his proposal will probably not be as charming as it was the first time. I think we should prepare ourselves to a lot of gaslighting and threatening from his part (he's still pissed off, guys). He'll surely tell her that Eregion is burning because she refused him, that kind of thing. He will definitely use her memories of Halbrand (it's pretty much confirmed by the presence of Halbrand's theme within The Temptation music, and maybe Galadriel's vision of Halbrand enters that scheme too), but will it be to show her what they could have had if she had said yes the first time, or what they could still be? It remains to be seen.

We probably shouldn't forget that in his mind, it happens like this: "she joins me, or I'm making pay for it".... It should be pretty intense.

Then we've got what Charlotte Brändström revealed about Sauron (bless her heart) :

"I think Sauron even really loves Galadriel and you will see that at the very end”

There are already several threads discussing how Sauron will show his love for Galadriel... Will he spare her? Save her in one way or another? Heal her because she's hurt? Prove her in some way that what he said he felt as Halbrand was real? Something entirely different? Anyway, it will be something that can't be confused with manipulation.

There, I said my piece. Why isn't it next Thursday yet?

[b4kuch1n]

almost forgot about mermay again this year (ink comms are still a thing! just! not yet! the other thing I gotta do just concluded and I got hit with this so Im gonna finish this up (& also some spare business) before returning to business please & thank u)

[altruistic-meme]

gotta do everything by myself around here 😔

[isaacathom]

thinking about the hornblower/bush pleading paragraph again and being reminded of a scene earlier in that same book where hornblower is trying to tell bush about how he can navigate and demonstrating the math for him and all bush can do is nod dumbly and admire hornblower's delicate and nimble hands

[neverendingford]

.

[transvampireboyfriend]

Here's a bit from a fic I'm not sure I'll ever start writing. for context, this is Corroded Coffin's first tour and they brought Steve along (bc Eddie would never even imagine having it any other way)

Jeff and Eddie are walking towards the green room discussing the way their melodies turned out at tonight's show, when Gareth catches up to them, a little winded,

"Hey," he pants, "Freak says he wants to try that tacos place we saw on our way into town, you guys up for it?"

Jeff simply nods and Eddie shrugs, "Sounds good" he answers,

Gareth claps them in the back and says to Eddie "Awesome, I'll go ask your wife",

He goes to skip ahead between them but Eddie grabs him by the scruff of his tshirt and yanks him back, causing his head to slap itself against Eddie's waiting palm.

Jeff snorts but Gareth isn't amused.

"OW dude! What the fuck?!" he demands with wide eyes. Eddie doesn't buy it for a second, launches into the same warning he always gives them,

"I told you! if he hears you saying that he could get really pissed, and then you'll get me into serious trouble!" he still has Gareth by the scruff, so he yanks him again for emphasis,

"Do you want me to be in serious trouble, man?" Gareth shakes his head, Eddie yanks again,

"Do you want me to be in serious trouble because of you?" Gareth frantically shakes his head but holds his palms up as he weasels out of Eddie's hold, half-laughing as he turns to face them and walking backwards as they advance,

"I do NOT say it around him!" Gareth defends, Jeff scoffs beside Eddie and Eddie just narrows his eyes,

"Plus, I told you that he's into you, man!" Gareth continues, Eddie rolls his eyes at that so he can't see the significant look Jeff gives him, agreeing with Gareth.

"This again" Eddie groans, "you're delusional. Just stop calling him that altogether and we'll be good," he insists.

Gareth just sighs "Fine. Can you go ask your very platonic friend, that you share a bed with every night, if he wants tacos? Or should we not even ask his opinion?"

Eddie flicks his ear and Gareth frowns dangerously, meeting the end of his rope.

Jeff says "Okay-" and holds his hands up placatingly, but Eddie doesn't like his chances so he sprints down the hall laughing and Gareth takes off hot in his heels.

Jeff groans as Freak catches up with him,

"Children." Freak states, tutting.

---

When Steve comes back to the green room he finds Eddie and Gareth wrestling on the floor.

"Um-" he starts and Eddie, who had been making Gareth slap himself turns excitedly to him,

"Stevie!! What did you think?" he asks, wanting to get Steve's opinion on tonight's show, and probably very specifically, the melodies he and Jeff had been working on for weeks now.

Steve's lucky that Gareth pulls on his hair and distracts him by slamming him on the floor, otherwise Eddie would have totally noticed him blushing.

He'll never get over Eddie wanting his input, especially when it comes to something as important to him as his music, his band.

"OW!" Eddie shouts as Gareth pulls his hair again, reaching to pull on Gareth's nose.

That brings Steve back. He ceremoniously places his hands on his hips, and calls "Children!",

It startles Eddie into slapping Gareth's arm away particularly hard and Steve hears muttered apologies as the two of them sit up criss-cross side by side.

"He started it!" Eddie accuses, playing along with Steve's babysitter bit, "He said we shouldn't ask your opinion on dinner," Gareth gasps indignantly and tackles him again.

Steve just sighs, used to them buzzing with energy after shows.

He hears Jeff and Freak enter the room and turns to them as if they had been there all along, "Dinner from where?" he asks them,

Freak looks up from the boys wrestling and says "Remember that tacos place we saw on our way in? last Thursday?"

Steve's expression clears with understanding, he nods "Oh yeah! Yeah, that place! Okay. Sounds good." Freak nods and goes to their clothes rack.

"Soon as these two finish," Jeff comments.

Gareth has Eddie in a chokehold now and Eddie is trying to lick his arm while also pulling on Gareth's hair.

"I should record you and put it up on the internet," Steve threatens.

Jeff joins in "It'd humiliate our lead man, but it's a risk I'm willing to take" he claps his approval on Steve's back and goes to the clothes rack as Freak goes to change his outfit.

Eddie taps twice on Gareth's arm to be released and Gareth raises both arms above his head triumphantly.

Eddie points a finger at Steve, then Jeff and says "I'm vetoing that!"

Steve frowns. "I didn't know you had vetoing rights" he teases, tilting his head.

"He doesn't" Jeff and Gareth answer in unison,

"You just said I'm the lead man!" Eddie whines to Jeff,

"I was talking about Gareth" Jeff shrugs.

Gareth puffs out his chest and Eddie shoves him, knocking him on his ass again.

Steve can't help but chuckle at them. Eddie turns to look at him with mirth in his eyes then, extends his arms to be helped up.

Steve pulls him to his feet with his heart in his throat.

"So?" Eddie asks,

"What?" Steve asks quietly,

"What'd you think?" Eddie asks again, quiet too like it's their secret, giving his arm a little impatient tap, reminding him he hadn't answered before.

Steve doesn't remember when he started smiling so big "It was good." he tells him, just as quietly, having created a little bubble for the two of them without meaning to, but not wanting to burst it.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, the corners of his mouth twitching up,

"Mmhm," Steve confirms, starts fiddling with one of Eddie's many chains, "I think the change you made yesterday was smart, the crowd was definitely wilder tonight" he comments,

"Well, that was Jeff, 'member?"

"Hmmm" Steve hums, letting go of the chain and leaning his elbow on Eddie's shoulder to turn to Jeff,

"Well that was a very smart change Jeff!" he calls loudly, enjoying Eddie's flinch. He has to clear his throat because his voice comes out raspy for some reason.

----

Jeff frowns, confused.

"The new arrengement from yesterday," Eddie clarifies, eyes on Steve. Jeff ignores him, but takes the clarification all the same,

"Oh! thanks! Man, did you see the crowd tonight?" Jeff marvels,

Steve says "That's what I was just telling Eddie!" and they launch into specifics that Eddie misses.

He's thinking he usually doesn't like being teased but his cheeks are burning and he can't feel anything other than a pleasant warmth right now, Steve Harrington broke him.

He shakes his head and comes back to reality just in time to see Steve turn to him and say, "You did great tonight, Eds. You were super comfortable using the space on stage tonight, people loved it,"

Eddie doesn't say he was only comfortable because he had a clear view of Steve in the crowd.

"Thank you Stevie" he tells him instead. Steve smiles brightly at him. It makes Eddie want to rub his face on Steve's shoulder.

He pinches Steve's waist instead, gets all up in his space, still buzzing with energy from running around on stage.

"Help me pick something out for tacos?" he requests, hopeful. He loves the idea of Steve thinking about what would look best on him.

"Yeah," Steve agrees, grabbing the hand that pinched him and leading Eddie to the rack.

Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie as they walk past him and Eddie flips him the bird.

[toruro]

— ✧ mr. nice guy

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. you thought your next-door neighbor was just being polite when he offered to help you carry in your boxes the first time you saw him, but as you adjust to your new home, you start to notice that joshua’s nice in other ways too: nice eyes, nice smile, nice arms, nice fingers, probably nice di—okay you get the point. but just how long can you go with lusting after your neighbor before giving in to your very much not-nice desires? well, lucky for you, joshua also isn’t nearly as much of a gentleman as he likes to let on.

✘ tags. smut (18+), neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as always ✘ w/c. 5.3k ✘ a/n. i have had this idea in me for a WHILE so it's good to finally get it out! honestly i feel like the story is a little rushed but whatever

there's a gentle voice coming from in front of you, but with the way you’re holding the large box up right in front of your face, you can’t see who’s speaking. “do you need help with that?”

muscles straining and sweat beading down your skin, you manage to squeak out a quick, “yes please!” a wave of relief washing over your body as you feel the box grow infinitely lighter as this man’s arms wrap around the side. “thank you so much,” you say, still gripping onto the box as you slowly walk over and lead it to the front of your apartment door a few feet away. setting it down carefully, you look up so you can finally see the face of the angel who saved you so much trouble.

“no problem," he replies politely, and as your eyes flicker up, you're taken aback by his kind smile. "you new here?"

"did the moving boxes give it away?" you joke and the man cracks a hearty laugh.

"you got me there. i'm joshua," he tells you, and you think to yourself that there can't be a name for fitting for the man. he points over to the door across from yours. "i live right there, so i guess we'll be seeing each other a lot. what's your name?"

your name falls from your lips in a haze, internally thanking your lucky stars for finding yourself an apartment that was not only close to your work but also in close proximity someone as nice as joshua. "i guess so," you reply looking down the hallway where the movers had left the rest of your boxes. "i don't suppose you'd be down for another few boxes?" you ask hopefully, wincing at the way you're so shamelessly asking for help.

joshua chuckles at your expression and you feel that the ground might as well swallow you up whole. "it'd be my pleasure. it's not often i get new neighbors who are under the age of 50."

"i've noticed that...is there a reason the average age of the residents of place is like 60?" you ask curiously as you walk down to the end of the hallway to the boxes.

"not sure," joshua says. "i guess this place is just popular with them. not that i'm complaining. noisy neighbors are never a problem for me." he gives you an awry look, and you're a bit confused before he's jokes, "unless you plan on making that something i have to worry about now."

"no!" you reply a little too quickly, flustered by the way joshua is so easily coming up with conversation. it seems as if he's so smooth with everything, and with the way you have a million thoughts racing through your head—it's a it hard to keep up. "i mean, i don't do much or anything really," you clarify, reaching down to pick up one box while joshua goes to grab the other side.

"good to know," joshua tells you with a smile, and you try not to focus too much on the way that he grunts slightly when lifting up his end. "you're always welcome to come over to my place for a drink or something," he suggests as you begin walking over to your apartment.

smiling as you set down the box, you adjust your shirt and look up at him. "i'll think about it."

you, in fact, do think about joshua's offer. you think about it a lot.

you think about it that night when you carefully unpack your boxes. joshua's a nice guy, you think to yourself, because it's not often you come across such a person who's willing to give you an hour of their day to help carry heavy ass boxes for someone they barely know.

you think about it two mornings later when you're walking down the hallway with your groceries for the week only to find joshua about to enter his own apartment, clad in a tight fit t-shirt and gym shorts. his skin glows with layer of sheen sweat, his light brown hair pressing against his forehead in an oddly fitting mess. his breath is slightly labored when you call out his name instinctively, turning to look at you with bright eyes.

"hey, how's it going?" he's polite. joshua is polite, and a gentleman. you almost feel guilty when your eyes dart to the arms when the muscles flex as he brings up a hand to grab one of your grocery bags, insisting that it was his pleasure to help you out. something along the lines of, "i just got back from my work out and i can't help a pretty lady with her bags?"

pretty lady. you hope he can attribute your burning cheeks to the hot sun and not his words, because holy shit does he have your stomach doing tumbles. after all, joshua's just being polite right? right?

you think about his offer again three evenings later. you're just leaving your apartment to go on a walk, and joshua seems to have some people over, five boys knocking on his front door, where there seems to be more boys on the other side. you quickly glance at each other as you slip out of your apartment, hoping to hobble off quickly before things get more awkward, but then there's that door opening and you hear joshua's voice and you falter in your tracks for a moment at the way he calls you name so smoothly.

you turn around to face him as his friends slowly shuffle into his apartment, joshua leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of beer. he holds it up and raises a brow and fuck—if you don't stare at the way the bottle is perched between his perfect, thick fingers—fuck. "you wanna join?"

you want to. fuck, you really want to. so why do the words, the simple phrase of, "yeah sure," fall flat on your tongue? maybe it comes from the embarrassment of lusting over a man you hardly know. from the humiliation of letting your eyes dart towards his arms, his hands, his fingers, joshua's collarbone and the little adam's apple that bobs up when he takes a sip of his beer.

"i, uh, i was just going on a walk right now," you tell him, your voice sounding meek and you want to cringe at the poorly planned response. joshua chuckles, and you aren't sure why.

"you don't wanna come? aw, you're hurting my feelings," he coos.

"no! that's not what i meant," you say quickly, averting your gaze from joshua because the way he's peering down at you right now—god, you don't know if you want to go up to him and fall straight to your knees and suck him off or turn around and run away out of pure humiliation. "i just—you know—walks. go on them every day," you try to explain haphazardly.

"no it's okay, i get it," he replies before looking into his apartment when one of his friends yells out his name, "it's bit rowdy in here anyways, so i don't blame you." there's an awkward sort of silence that settles between you and the air is thick as you debate if you should turn around and leave right about now. "i don't suppose you'd want to stop by after your walk?" he asks hopefully, and you figure this is his way of giving you a second chance.

this time, you look up at him and smile. "i'll think about it."

except this time you actually think about, not just sit and wonder of the possibilities. as you pace down the street, your one hour walk that usually make time fly now seems to feel like the longest sixty minutes of your life. you come down to two possibilities at the end of it:

1. you don't show up and joshua thinks you're an indecisive bitch

2. you do show up, have a good time, and things are left at that

of course, putting it like that only really leaves you with one choice to choose, that being the latter. knowing that your own conscience won't let you live it down if you don't end up choosing the latter, you march up to joshua's apartment with a slowly diminishing confidence. yeah, you're eager to see where this night will take you, but you're also not necessarily confident that you're anxiousness won't betray you.

it's just that joshua is so nice and so kind and he has you thinking so many thoughts that your words always seem to jumble up into an incoherent mess whenever he speaks to you. all you can really ever think about when you see him is—well—all of him, which includes his nice smile, his nice muscles, his nice—okay, shit, you really need to control yourself.

doing what little mind-clearing exercises you can cram into the time it takes you to get up to your floor, you're pretty sure your breath is labored from how hard you're thinking alone. before you have any time to let yourself back out of this, you're rushing up to joshua's door, knocking maybe a little too desperately.

in the next moment, you have time to listen in on the other side, the room being quieter than you remember it being an hour ago. all that can be heard is some soft shuffling that can only be identified as joshua's footsteps, and before you know the door is opening, the one and only standing in front of you.

"there she is," joshua greets with a smile, "low and behold!"

the tips of your ears burn at his welcoming, stepping back a little. "h-hi," you murmur quickly, the responses that you planned in your head earlier seemingly fading away in your mind. "is that offer for a drink still on the table?" you ask hopefully, chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for an answer.

"'course it is," he replies. "i was waiting for you to come to your senses," he continues, stepping to the side so you can slip off your shoes and step in, realizing now that all his friends have left leaving only you two. you follow in after him, your eyes glazing over his apartment. it's got the same layout as yours, as expected, only it's mirrored. it's slightly messy, presumably from the mess his friends left from before, but the set up is neat and you can tell joshua has a good eye for color.

"i like those paintings up on the wall," you comment, pointing at a set of wall art hung above his sofa. joshua looks up at it before smiling softly and nodding, walking to the kitchen as you trail behind him.

"thank you, one of my friends that was here earlier got it for me. he's great at interior design, if you're ever looking for someone," he tells you, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a cool bottle of beer. "here," he says, handing it to you before grabbing a bottle opener and popping off the cap for you. holding it out in front of you, you're able to watch his hands up close—they're big and veiny and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't press your thighs together slightly.

you aren't sure joshua notices, and if he does, he doesn't make it obvious. "thank you," you murmur softly, letting him step back and put the opener away before he leads you to the living room. you settle down on one end of the couch, and instead of opting to sit on the arm chair, joshua just sits on the opposite end. throwing his hands back so they lean on the arm rest and the back of the couch, his biceps are stretched out and on display thanks to his short sleeve t-shirt.

"so," joshua begins as he grabs his own beer and brings it up to his lips, "how do you like it here?"

you take your own sip of the cool liquid before responding, "it's hardly been a week...but i like it. it's peaceful, and i like the neighborhood."

"yeah, the people are nice," joshua agrees. you're nice, you think. "how was moving in?"

"i'm still honestly unpacking," you chuckle to yourself, feeling more comfortable now that there's casual conversation being initiated. "i have a bunch of clothes at my friend's place that i still need to pick up," you explain, leaning back into the plush cushions.

"you need help bringing them in? i can lend a hand if you need."

your stomach tumbles at his generosity, but you shake your head. "ah, you've already helped me so much, i don't think that's fair."

"oh c'mon," joshua counters, "you can pay me back with something if that'll make you feel better."

you raise a brow. "now how would i do that? you got venmo?" you tease.

"i was thinking of something a little less materialistic," joshua replies with a roll of his eyes, and you think you might just combust on the spot.

you aren't exactly sure what he means by that until you bring your eyes to meet his and that's when you see it. how his eyes darken, how he gulps even though he hasn't taken a sip of his drink, how he shifts in his seat. suddenly, you're dawned with the realization that on your walk, you left out the option for a third possibility, a.k.a. you do show up, have a good time, and then have joshua rail you into the next dimension.

gaining confidence, you cross your legs over each other and turn to face him better, deciding to go along. "huh..." your voice trails off. "i'm not quite sure what you mean by that joshua," and you swear you hear his breath hitch when you say his name.

he regains composure so quickly it's hard to tell you even threw him off guard in the first place. "i'm not really sure actually. you have anything to offer?"

you shrug as you set down your beer at the coffee table by your feet. "i make a mean maple cake, if you're into sweet stuff." joshua perks up at that.

"i do have a sweet tooth," he mumbles to himself, pretending to be in thought as he follows your movements, pushing his bottle to the side. "that's gonna take a while though," he says solemnly, "you're gonna have to get the ingredients...make the cake...bring it to me...sounds like a lot of work for you..." his voice trails off, and then he's tossing you that look again.

joshua figures you're both definitely on the same page by now and there's no point leaving the tension between his go unrelieved for any longer than he has to, and before you know it he's reaching one strong arm over to grab your wrist, pulling you into his hold so he can kiss you fiercely.

his lips are soft, but the way he's pushing against you, sucking, nipping, running his tongue along you is all but gentle. with joshua's arms leaving your hands and instead running up the sides of your waist, pulling you in roughly, you gasp into his mouth, allowing him the chance to slip his tongue against yours, tasting you, feeling you, being one with you.

one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head slightly so he can push his lips against yours harder, his tongue sinking deeper to explore the caverns of your mouth. when he pulls away, you both share heaving breaths of air, mouths connected with a string of saliva before he's leaning back in and capturing you once more.

his other hand on your waist gently nudges you and you're falling back onto the cushions, head hitting one of the pillows as he crawls into the space between your legs. inching up his knee until his thick thigh is pressing up against your pounding core, easing the tension that he's been so carefully building up.

joshua noticed it. the way your eyes lingered on his arms, his fingers—noticed the sparkle in your eyes followed by the immediate embarrassment of your own thoughts. he's not sure if you're just easy to read or if he's just good at reading you but whatever it is, you're an open book to him and fuck it's so cute it has him going crazy.

you whine against his lips, rocking into him to the best of you abilities while you're pinned beneath him. there isn't much space to move around in the little corner of this couch, but you hardly pay mind to the inconvenience when joshua peels his lips and thigh away from you. "ha—no," you gasp out, hips chasing the relief the hard muscle provided. joshua chuckles, shaking his head as you pout.

"relax baby," he coos, and the pet name has you shivering under his touch as he inches his body down the length of the couch until his upper body rests between your thighs, face dangerously close to your gaping cunt. "be patient, okay?" he orders, and you nod your head quickly in agreement. joshua traces his fingers from your knees achingly slow up to the hem of your denim shorts, slipping under the cloth only slightly, leaving you nearly begging for more.

"josh—shua—fuck, more, please?" you choke out, voice broken from pure desperation. joshua clicks his tongue at you, flashing a warning look which shuts your lips real tight as he reaches up to unbutton the shorts. you quickly reach down, helping him out, but he swats your hands away.

"can you keep your hands up for me sweetheart?" he asks so fucking sweetly you almost forget about the mischievous glint that flashes in his eyes.

"uh-huh," you mumble, slowly lifting your hands above your head, gripping onto the armrest of the couch to brace yourself. in the meantime, joshua unzips and yanks your shorts off, tossing them to the side so they fall somewhere in the room. staring down at your now exposed and soiled panties, you hear joshua suck in a breath.

"all this for me sweetheart?" he murmurs, bring two fingers up to lightly pinch your clit, causing you to jerk against his hold.

"all for you," you affirm nearly immediately, squirming when he takes one finger and tuns it down the midline of the fabric. joshua's eyes are gaping down at your core, nearly in the shape of hearts as his mind races with the idea of how you're already so undone, so desperate, so far gone for him. slowly but surely, he hooks one finger on each side of the waist band, peeling your panties off and exposing your dripping folds.

joshua nearly groans at the site of you clenching around nothing, saying, "fuck baby, you're gonna soak my couch."

"s-sorry," you stutter out, averting your gaze so you don't have the chance to look at the mess you've made.

"don't apologize...it's hot as hell." he pauses, then looks up at you. "you mind if i get a taste?"

"god, fuck yes—i mean no—wait," you babble, "i mean—shit—i don't mind, not at all."

joshua's heart swells at your response, waisting no time dipping his head between your thighs and pressing his tongue flat against your folds. you cry out at the warmth and friction, instinctively shooting one hand down to grab at his hair. within seconds, he's pulling his head back and giving you a stern look. "what'd i say sweetheart?"

"hands, sorry." you quickly pull your fingers back and return them to their hold on the couch.

"there you go sweetheart," joshua mumbles before diving back in, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs to hold you in your place. you can nearly feel his muscles bulge against your leg and you twitch against his mouth at the thought. meanwhile, joshua runs his tongue up and down, going and back and forth between hardening at and circling it around your hole before moving up and wrapping his lips around your clit and flicking his tongue over it.

the erratic, unpredictable movements have your back arching off the couch within minutes, moaning out words like, "feels so good joshua," along with quite curses as you attempt to keep your voice down. it hardly takes a few minutes before you're writhing under him, joshua pulling back with his lips and chin coated in a sticky wetness with a grin.

"you look so pretty baby," he compliments, using one hand to continue to rub between your folds and circle around your clit, never halting the shoots of pleasure through your spine. his eyes are flickering between yours and core, and then holy shit, his lips contort for a moment and then he's spitting on your already soaked pussy and the act is so demeaning and dirty and hot that you hardly comprehend the next words that come out of joshua's mouth. "so do you wanna cum now, or on my cock?" he offers, and you figure there's a right answer and a wrong one, but you don't have the brain capacity right now to think about which is which.

pouting, you respond, "c-can't i have both?"

that must be the right answer, because it has joshua beaming at you, smiling against your pussy as he slips two fingers into you and presses his mouth on your clit. jerking your hips up, joshua follows the swivel of your lower half, matching the thrusts and flicks of his wrist to your own movements so his fingers are hitting deeper and deeper every time. you think you're close, but when he's curling his digits inside of you and sucking hard on your nub you know it's coming.

you don't have time to warn joshua about your impending orgasm but the way your walls hug his fingers so fucking tight is warning enough, and he speeds up both his fingers and the flicking of his tongue to the point where you're on the brink of tears as he finger fucks you through your high. humming in appreciation at the way you call out his name as you do, he releases your clit with a filthy 'pop' sound, fingers taking a moment to gently slip out of you as you come down from your high.

"you did so good angel," joshua praises, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, smearing your skin in the mixture of your own cum and his saliva. your breaths are far too erratic for you to respond, but the way you look up at him with heavy eyelids through thick, glossy lashes tells joshua all he needs to know. unraveling his arms around you, he bring himself up and guides your legs to wrap around his bare torso—shit, wait, when did he take his shirt off.

gaping at this man who could quite literally be god, you can't even comprehend what's going on until you're being carried into a whole new room, joshua throwing you onto his bed, the messy covers bunching up around you. he stands at the edge, unbuckling his belt at a painfully slow rate. quickly scrambling up from your laying back position, you crawl to the spot in front of him and help unbutton his jeans. "already wanting more, huh?" he teases, but doesn't push you away, rather putting his hands to his side to watch you do the work yourself. you don't respond, taking this chance to grab both his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one go.

joshua's cock springs out, thick and beaming with a bead of precum that dribbles off the tip, lightly hitting your face in the process. your mind is foggy and you look up at him with dreamy eyes as you absentmindedly open your mouth and close your lips around his bulbous tip, lapping at the precum. joshua doesn't hesitate to grab at your hair and pull you off of him, and for a moment you're scared you've done something wrong, getting pulled out of your haze.

but then you catch the way his voice drops an octave when he says, "slow down," and your worries are put at ease. "we can do that another time. wanna feel your cunt." another time. those words ring in your head. there's going to be another time. you ponder on that thought for a moment and then you recall the next of what he says and you look up at him with these doe eyes that joshua finds so fucking adorable, he'd be surprised if you don't see his dick twitching.

crawling onto the mattress, your limbs intertwine in a hot mess so that one of your legs is hooked around his torso while the other rests between his knees under him. it's a slightly awkward position, but the thought hardly crosses either of your minds once his fat tip his sliding between your drooling folds teasingly, before you're begging, "c'mon joshie, stick it in, please—need it now."

now joshua isn't one to usually give in—he's good at maintaining his patience. yet, the way you mumble out his nickname as if there isn't a single thought in your pretty head has his mind going numb, losing all semblance of self control until he can't help but sink his full length into you.

and joshua knows he's big, and looking down at how you nearly shake beneath him, it's confirmed that this is a lot for you. he almost feels bad at the way tears stream down your cheek, considering pulling out and pressing kisses along your face until you're ready to try again but then you're saying his name like that—"joshie, joshie, joshie"—and he just knows that neither of you would be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you.

"takin'—god, fuck—takin' me like a pro, huh sweetheart?" joshua finally finds it in him to grunt out with out his voice wavering from the way you hug him so well.

"yeah-huh," you nod along, holding up your hand in a grabbing motion, joshua not hesitating to hold your hand in his so you can squeeze it tight while you work through the initial stretch. "you're so big, joshie."

"yeah," he breaths out a laugh. "you like it?" he groans, slipping out around halfway, giving you a chance to breathe, before he's shallowly thrusting back into you. "like me stretching out this pretty fucking pussy?" you nod dumbly, and your jaw gyrates as you try to form a response but no words come out, strangled syllables morphing into pornographic moans as joshua begins to drag his cock out further each time, plunging it deeper and deeper as he goes on.

"oh my god," you're finally able to babble, tits bouncing back and forth as joshua begins jamming his hips into yours with increasing force. the sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his cock bounce off the walls and if it isn't the filthiest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.

joshua latches one arm to your hip, the other continuing to hold yours as he pins it by your neck and shifting his body over you so his head hovers above yours. this new angle his his cock ramming hard down onto a spot that has you biting down onto your lips and crying out, "fuck, joshie!"

"you're squeezing me so tight," joshua moans as you rake one hand down his back. "suckin' me in, god i can't get enough, sweetheart," he grunts out, dropping his head down to bury it in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you. your body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible, and with the way joshua is pressing open mouthed kisses onto your sticky skin has your hips lifting to meet his sharp strokes.

you feel as if things can't get any better and then you feel his teeth bite down into your flesh and your eyes roll to the fucking back of your head as the pain quickly shoots to pleasure when he sucks on the spot, the patch of skin throbbing—pulsing. "'m so close, joshie," you moan as he pullings away, looking down at your fucked out face. your eyes are droopy and shutting tight every time he fucks into you, mouth slightly agape and never fully closing.

he isn't sure what urges him to do it but then he's shoving three fingers into your mouth and joshua thinks that this might just be true love at the way you don't even hesitate a second to circle your lips against them and run your tongue against them. drool dribbles down your lips as you suck on his fingers and joshua's mind is consumed with the thought of your mouth doing that to his dick and then you moan around his fingers at the way he twitches inside of you and—fuck—he's getting close too, but he just can't allow himself to cum until you have.

slipping his fingers out, he uses the same, slick hand to toy at your clit as you clench around him tighter. "you said you're close?" he groans. "fuckin' cum then, cum around my cock how you wanted to, sweetheart."

it's the way he's gazing down at you endearingly. it's his fat cock pushing itself deeper inside of you, forcing you and your gummy walls to make room for me. it's the filthy words that spill from his lips, laced with his sweet words of praise. it's all of it that comes crashing down on you, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over and over again until you're reduced to nothing but a thrashing, crying, whining mess with the words, "joshie, fuck," falling from your lips.

you're so lost in pleasure of your second orgasm of the day that you hardly notice it when joshua slips out of you himself, fervently jerking himself off until he moans out your name and there's thick white ropes of cum painting your stomach and clit 'til he's practically milked himself dry.

all the echos through the room now is the sound of your hiccups and joshua's gasps for air until he's finally falling on top of you, head resting on your chest.

"you are so not a gentleman," you gasp out between breaths as he slowly lifts himself off of you, rolling to your side once you unwind your leg from around his hips. he furrows his eyebrows at you with a frown.

"what do you mean?" he whines. "that's literally like my trademark."

"well change it," you grumble, running your fingers over the mark on your neck from where joshua bit you.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs, turning over to you to look at the bruise against your skin. "did i hurt you?" he asks, eyes wide with worry. you want to kick your feet at the way his concern has butterflies coursing through your veins as if this man didn't just rearrange your guts.

you push his face away when he leans down to pepper your neck with kisses, shuffling back onto you. you aren't sure how much longer your poor heart can handle this. "it's too late to be a gentleman now..."

"is it though?" joshua asks with a smirk, looking down at you.

"dunno...guess you just have to prove to me that you're worth the title."

"does this mean i get more chances?" joshua grins.

you roll your eyes. "maybe...it depends on what you have planned."

"well," joshua drawls out. "i'm thinking a nice date...then maybe you, me, my bed and—"

i guess you can tell where it goes from here.

a/n. half the time i think i dont know how to end fics without some stupid dialouge bc wtf.... anyways if u enjoyed pls like and reblog!

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: i literally can't take myself seriously with this concept LOL where have my morals gone? lmk if anyone remembers classic kimi fics where smut was nonexistent HAUWHAUA 😭

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

jungkook has been looking over revisions for the past three hours. the promotion was more exciting when he worked for it... now, he feels way too overworked and honestly? for what?

the truth is, he only chased after the promotion because he knew it would be something you'd be proud of him for doing. you've always been the type to chase after things greater than yourself and wished for jungkook to do the same. well, this is it. this is jungkook doing just that for you. he hopes you can see it. he hopes you know it.

currently, he feels like his eyeballs might roll out of his head. he's bored and might lose his mind if he goes through one more slide (he has at least 200 slides left). irritated, he pushes away from his desk and stands up.

he stretches, trying to wake himself up a little more. then, he stares at the view from his office window.

the city is beautiful but he would much rather be looking at you.

suddenly, as if the angels heard him, his phone rings.

it's you.

he picks up immediately.

"hello?"

he doesn't know why, but he feels nervous. you never call. you always text or facetime... a call? what the fuck could be going on?

"hi... are you busy?" you ask, a little quiet. you sound tired.

he raises an eyebrow. "uhh... what's up? everything okay?"

a small laugh escapes your lips. "yeah. why? do i sound—"

"a little sad," he cuts you off, concerned. "___, what's wrong?"

you stay silent for a moment.

"nothing.”

he doesn’t believe you until he hears you sigh in relief.

continuing, you vent; "i just... i think i'm just stressed. i don't know. i wanted a break and suddenly i picked up my phone and called you. s-sorry. i... you're probably busy with the new promotion and—"

"i'm not that busy—"

like perfect timing, jungkook's office line interrupts. "mr. jeon, your 2pm meeting is being pushed back so you have time for lunch today."

jungkook clears his throat and thanks his assistant.

"new assistant?" you ask, letting curiosity get the best of you. "she pretty?"

"she's fired if you want."

"shut up!" you laugh. "i could care less—"

"oh, you care..." jungkook smirks. "hey, i'm glad you called. you can always call. i'm here for you when you need.. i don't want you to think anything else."

"okay.." is all you say.

jungkook takes a deep breath in. "did you eat today?"

"i ate. did you?"

"been busy—"

"you said you weren't busy!"

"hey, i'm not the lawyer!"

"still... i... listen, i'll let you go. i should probably get back to work or something—"

jungkook panics. "i'm cancelling my 2pm."

"what?"

"y-yeah... i'm looking at their revisions and i haven't even gotten through half of it. it's also shit so i'm just gonna tell them to redo everything. will i be the most hated boss? we'll find out."

on the other end of the line, you snicker.

"you can't blow off work."

"i can."

".... c-can i confess something?"

jungkook gulps, feeling sick to his stomach.

"what?"

you fidget with your fingers, unsure if you should continue.

"honey, what is it?" jungkook asks softly. "whatever it is... i'm here for you. you know that."

"i... uhm... i called because i was stressed..."

"... yeah?"

"jungkook," you pause, biting your bottom lip. is it too much to say this? at the same time... it's not like he has ever denied you anything. you might as well... "i need to relieve some stress. like, i need to focus on something that isn't work or our son. you know what i mean? everything is fine, honest! i just... i want to be focused on something and be present. i feel like i've been mindless for a hot minute... i just... look, if you're going home... is it okay if i come over? can i suck your dick or something?"

jungkook rushes home.

he changes his bedsheets and runs a quick shower. it's not like he needed to put in this much effort (it's literally the bare minimum) but it's the first time in a long time where you needed him. having sex and initiating was more so 50/50; but this was different. you need him.

he's your relief.

and also... it's a little funny, is it not? it's only 2pm on a random wednesday and you need him.

when you arrive, jungkook takes a few deep breaths before opening the door. his studio apartment is definitely smaller than your place (aka the place you two shared for 4 years), but it's okay. it's only temporary. he knows in his heart that he'll be back home with you in no time. this afternoon proves exactly that...

if today you need him for his body and tomorrow you need his heart; he'd give it.

"wow... i hate this already." you take a minute to laugh at yourself. you feel so beyond stupid and embarrassed... it's practically indescribable. though you and jungkook fool around and have always had an active sex life... right now felt different. right now felt... weird? but if it was ever going to feel weird; at least it's with him.

before you even step foot inside his place, you're turning your heel. "you know what? i should... uhm, this was stupid. sorry—"

jungkook grabs your arm and pulls you inside.

you stay still as he leans towards you face. he pokes your cheek and chuckles. "come on, honey. i said i'd be here for you. let me be here for you."

squinting at him, you move his finger off your face. "you just want your dick sucked."

"you offered," he snorts. "so pull through."

in hindsight, jungkook should've been more prepared than this.

but he isn't.

he fights to urge to spill himself all over your pretty hands every time you pump his cock. it's toe-curling the way you drag your wrist up and down. he throws his head back so much, it's beginning to get sore. leaving him with no option but to fucking watch you give him the most life changing blowjob of his life.

"are you okay?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. "you look stressed."

"i am stressed."

"what? why—"

"no! f-fuck, don't stop." he growls, not liking the way you suddenly stop. you purse your lips, catching on that he just feels edged out.

already?

... okay.

you continue to pump him, gripping on the base of his cock and moving your way up. his skin is so soft yet he's so hard. like... so fucking hard you know for a fact you don't want to fuck him right now. it'd hurt too much.

"you're so hard already," you utter under your breath. "and i swear to god, it's like your dick gets bigger every time i see it."

"i love you more every time i see you that's why."

"damn," you hiss. "can you... just let me do this? i wanna focus on... wanna focus on—"

"shut up."

you laugh, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. he leans forward, gladly meeting your lips. when you pull away, you plop yourself in a more exact position in front of him. jungkook feels his balls get heavy as you kneel, part his legs, and begin to tie your hair up.

he helps you.

gathering your hair, you give him your hair tie. he quickly ties your hair before leaning back and trying to catch one last good breath.

he fails.

his breath hitches as you kiss his tip.

"w-wait—"

you don't.

you lick his length, dragging your tongue down to his base. there, you suck his balls and use your hands to pump. jungkook gulps, watching you do this. he doesn't know what to do. usually, he's really into it but there's something different about right now.

right now, he's in a trance.

he's mesmorized at how much your touch changes all the chemistry in his body. saying you send electricity throughout his body is an understatement. butterflies don't mean a damn thing either. it's captivating and everything but sweet.

it feels twisted in his stomach. it feels like he's on the edge on a cliff and the only way he can ease his fear is by jumping off.

he has to give in and let his body react to you.

he has to let you have this and from the looks of it (and feel of it); you've giving him everything you've got.

just then, you snap jungkook out of his thoughts as you attempt to take him inside your mouth. you make an effort to look up, eyes teary from holding in your gag. he's so big. there's no other way to explain it and there's no way you're going to stop thinking it.

he's so fucking big.

like what other choice do you have but to slobber all over it? you just have to. not to mention, he always tastes good. his cum, yes, but just his dick in general... is that weird? who cares.

jungkook's dick barely fits in your mouth. but you try to make it work. you want him—all of him. as you bob your head, easing your way to his full length, jungkook lets out a loud moan.

you look up and see his chest rising and falling. his abdomen twitches and so does his dick. you like the way he looks right now. as you suck, his breathing intensifies. soon, he's panting and you're near gagging.

you take a moment to catch your breath.

pulling away, your hands continue the show. jungkook brings his attention back to your hands and watches as the tip of his cock turns angry. god, it's getting bigger?

you practically drool.

jungkook leans over and wipes the access saliva around your lips. then, he shoves his thumb into your mouth. happily, you suck on it. bobbing your head, shutting your eyes, and letting out little moans; jungkook feels like he's losing his mind.

you look so fucking pretty.

when he takes his thumb out, you dive back to his dick. this time, he holds you by the back of your neck and guides you through it. jungkook pushes your head slowly but surely. then, he stops moving it. he keeps it in place as he lifts his hips and rolls them.

before you know it, he's fucking your mouth.

rolling your eyes back, jungkook moans at the sight. of course you're taking it like a slut. of course you're enjoying it too.

"you like this, huh? you like having your face fucked?" jungkook hisses in between breathy pants.

you gag in response.

jungkook pulls his dick out and slaps your mouth with it. his veiny member feels so good against your lips. you want it back in your mouth.

"answer me."

"mhmm," you whimper. "i like it so much. put it back in—mmhph—"

"fuck yes," he shoves his cock back into your mouth. "so pretty, honey. the absolute prettiest."

suddenly, he lets you go. it's then that you take the liberty to give it everything you've got.

you twirl your tongue around his tip, suck his length in every way possible. your hands pump to compliment your oral skills and jungkook can't help but think he's the luckiest man on earth.

then, it happens.

you feel his dick twitch. he instantly thrusts himself more aggressively to chase the climax. you behave and take it. then, squirts of his cum escape his tip. he cries, pulls out of your mouth, and aims at your face.

you shut your eyes, feeling his cum hit your cheeks and lips.

he lets out a moan of relief.

after a moment passes, you get up from your position and sit on his lap. wrapping your legs around him, he offers you a tired smile. then, he lifts his hands to wipe his cum off your face. opening your mouth, he gives it to you like icing.

you swallow and he feels like he might need a fucking minute.

then, you let out a little giggle when you notice how sweaty he is. you push his hair back and begin to laugh.

"w-what?" he worries. "why are you laughing at me?"

"you're sweating? as if you did any work—"

"i was literally fucking your face!"

"yeah but you're not the one that's gonna have sore cheeks for like three days or bruised knees!"

he shuts up.

you roll your eyes at him and continue to play with his hair. you feel his dick calm down under you. thank god. that fucking beast is scary when you're not in the mood...

"what time is it?" you ask, breaking the silence and breathing in the smell of sin.

jungkook shrugs. "dunno. also don't wanna move. stay like this with me."

you huff. "should i take my panties off or something?"

"why?"

"wanna cockwarm me?"

seriously...

he just might be the luckiest man on earth.

jungkook clears his throat as you straighten up your posture. "wait, i'll just put my panties to the side like this—ahh, mmhmm... y-yeah. like this.... feels good."

by now, jungkook's soft cock is inside you.

you like the feeling and so does he.

suddenly, you rest your head of his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you and holds you. kissing the side of your head, he asks; "you feeling better? relieved?"

"mhmm."

"good." jungkook tightens his lips, as he brings his hands to your hair. he runs them through and you take a deep breath in. you like the way he feels right now... so intimate.

"hey... did we talk a lot during sex?" he asks.

"don't remember."

"oh, okay..." jungkook looks around his studio apartment and suddenly feels embarrassed at how messy it is. "can i come with you to pick zion up today?"

"sure."

jungkook tightens his hold on you. you laugh and tell him it's too tight. he stops squeezing you and asks for a kiss. you give it to him. against your lips, he mummbles; "am i talking too much? i think i'm nervous or something—"

"then shut up."

"hey—"

you pull away and cup his cheeks.

"i feel your dick rising inside me. i don't have the energy for round two. either make the boner go away or i'll get off."

jungkook gulps. then, he shuts his eyes and thinks of every possible un-sexy thing ever... and it works. his dick softens again and you thank him with a kiss. jungkook takes his chance and intertwines your fingers together. you let him do so and his heart soars. something about him being inside you makes you feel so whole. there’s no denying that… and you love it, really. you love him, truly.

for a few more moments, you two stay like this.

you two are together.

[mariclerc]

hey!... can you write a Charles × horner reader.. where the reader has a crush on since they met.... but Charles doesn't like her very much cuz he thinks she's a nepo baby... but the reader still tries to win his heart.... but one day after a bad race he lashed out on her.... breaking her heart.... later he realizes he also has fellings for her...then ask the reader for forgiveness and a second chance (pls make it a happy ending)... thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for this request! It took me a little while to try to develop it, I hope you like it!! 💗💗

Second chance spark | cl16

Summary: where Charles thinks you're a nepo baby just because of your last name. Warnings: a little angst, horner!reader, christian being an asshole and fluffy fluff.

a/n: let me know if you want a part two!!

Part 2

The paddock of the Spanish Grand Prix is in big move, thousands of people moving from one place to another and there you find yourself, outside of the Red Bull hospitality talking to several of the girls on the team. This is what your life has become, practically, since being the daughter of Christian Horner you can walk around the hospitality and the paddock as many times as you like during the year.

Most people believe that you only walk around the paddock because it is a case of "nepotism", but in reality you are working very hard to be an engineer and earn a place in motorsport and that's why you find yourself doing internships at Red Bull. Also, your relationship with your father is not the best, so it is always a constant argument, but, even if you try not to give it so much importance, it always hurts.

“Oh god girls, look who's coming!” You say excitedly, Charles was walking through the paddock, to you he always looked like an angel, you blush slightly.

Mara, one of the Red Bull pr girls spoke. “Leclerc? Are you trying to charm the competition's sponsors I see.” she jokes and you blush a little.

You rolled your eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, he probably doesn't even know I'm here.” You say and a silence is present between the three of you. “I'm going to say hi.” You say determined.

Lila rise up an eyebrow. “Careful y/n. You don't want to spook the red prince.”

“Oh, please. Like he'd give me the time of the day.” you scoff.

You excuse yourself and stride confidently towards Charles. He notices your approach and his expression becomes guarded.

You've liked Charles since he debuted in the F4 European series, you always thought he was someone quite nice and talented... Besides of being cute, of course, but nothing ever happened between you, you were simply acquaintances. But now since you are always in the paddock you see him every single day and those feelings that you thought were already buried, were reborn with much more strength.

“Hello y/n. Didn't expect to see you here!” he smiles shyly.

“Well, I just came to say hi, a little greeting doesn't go amiss, don't you think?” you say shyly with a soft voice. “Are you nervous about the race?” you asked shyly.

“Yeah, uh, a little bit... But let's see how it goes.” he says trying to avoid your gaze.

“Well, you have a good shot, maybe you can achieve a podium finish.” You say and he looks at you surprised.

“You actually follow the races?” he asks.

You feign offense. “Of course I do, I'm trying to be an engineer! I may not be out there on the track like you and the boys, but I appreciate a good driver when I see one.” you smile brightly.

Charles looks at you for a long moment, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Just make sure you're cheering for the right team on race day in the future.” he says teasingly.

“We'll see about that, Leclerc.” you two share a comfortable silence for a moment. You take a deep breath. “Well, I'll leave you alone, I have to go. But good luck in the race, yeah?” You say with a small smile.

“Sure, see you later! And thanks!” he smiles too.

You smiled back and turned to leave, a triumphant glint in your eyes. Charles watches you go, a genuine smile gracing his features. His heart is probably beginning to soften to let you into it.

***

“Is seriously? You talked to him and he didn't think you were a little innocent girl?” Christian said sitting in his chair in the office.

You were at the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes, you had gone to see some engineers and work with them since you are doing your engineer internship at Red Bull and they have been very generous to you, teaching you everything they know, what you didn't realize was that your father was going to need you to have a talk. Such talks never end well, let's put it that way.

“Well, no... But I think he was being nice.” you say quietly. “I just wanted to wish him good luck, that's all... Just a little greeting... it's not a big deal.”

“You know? It's amazing that you're so stupid and dumb.” He says getting up from his chair. “And also by talking to the enemy, you don't really learn, don't you?” he asked sharply.

He never misses the opportunity to speak badly about you on any occasion, he simply doesn't care about your feelings, he is only interested in the job, winning and that's it. As if that were more important than your well-being as his daughter.

You take a deep breath. “Then let me finish my internship in another team.” you said and he looked at you. “I think it would be better for both you and me. Don't you think?” you said in a whisper.

“What? You really want to finish your silly and stupid internship at Ferrari, right? To be after a man who doesn't give you attention, is it serious?” he says sarcastically, that wasn't your idea but since he puts it on the table it doesn't sound too bad... “How ungrateful you are, to waste the fact that I gave you the opportunity to do the internship here.”

“And it was the only thing you did.” you murmured. “Because, as far as I remember, you haven't done anything else.”

“What did you say, huh? You little bitch.” He said, raising his voice towards you.

“What you fucking heard! Do you think it's not difficult to be under your shadow every day? How tiring it is to have everyone tell you that you are a child of nepotism just because all you did was get me the internship here! And you know that I had to sacrifice many things to get here.” you said in screams, taking everything out of you, all the years of abuse and so on. “And don't come pretending to be a saint because we both know you're not.”

You leave his office and everyone looks at you, but you don't care, you couldn't allow your father to call you names and spoke to you in a not very nice way. Your tears blur your vision as you leave the factory and you run to your car, you feel as if you no longer have a weight on your shoulders, but at the same time you are afraid of what may happen later between the two of you.

***

A couple of weeks later, the Austrian Grand Prix is a blur of disappointment, specially for Charles, since he finished a distant third, strategy blunders costing him a shot at the win against Max. The Red Bull Hospitality is abuzz with post-race celebration, a stark contrast to the muted atmosphere in the Ferrari hospitality across the way.

You stand awkwardly near the doorway, your presence a silent question in the room. Charles sits alone, staring into the bottom of an empty beer glass, his face an iron mask of frustration. A knot of worry tightens in your stomach, that's not the Charles you know, always so cheerful and lively despite everything. It's another version of him, darker and more mysterious.

“Charles?” you asked softly.

He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before hardening back into a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” he said sharply.

“I...I just wanted to see if you were alright.” You say shyly.

His harsh tone stings, cutting through the fragile connection the two of you would built.

“Look y/n, I appreciate the concern, but I need to be alone.” he said sharply.

“But-” hurt creeps into your voice.

He interrupts with his voice rising. “No buts! Don't you get it? This is my job, my life! And today, I failed.”

Tears are pricking at your eyes. “I know it hurts, Charles, but you can't let it consume you.”

He stands abruptly, knocking his chair over with a clatter. “Easy for you to say! You don't have the pressure, the expectations hanging over your head like a damn guillotine! You have everything on a silver platter whenever and however you want!” he say furiously.

His words are a punch to the gut. The simmering tension between you and your father explodes in your mind.

“You think I don't know the pressure? Do you have any idea what it's like living under my father's shadow? To be constantly judged, to have every decision questioned?” you say with a shaking voice.

Charles stares at you, his anger momentarily eclipsed by surprise.

“I may not be a driver, but I understand this world, Charles... I understand the pressure.” You say as tears form in your eyes.

Your vulnerability hangs heavy in the air. Shame washes over Charles, realizing the depth of his lashing out.

“Y/n, I...” he said with a soft voice.

He reaches out, but you flinches back, a wall of hurt suddenly separating the both of you.

You take a shaky breath. “I think I should go.” you sigh tiredly. “Nice talk.”

You turn towards the door, your heart heavy with a mixture of disappointment and a newfound understanding of the burdens that the both of you share. You run out there with tears running down your cheeks, nothing could have been worse after what happened with your father, but now you lost a person you cared about despite everything.

***

The Italian Grand Prix is in full swing after the summer break. Mechanics scurry around the gleaming red Ferrari, the air thick with pre-race tension. Charles, however, finds himself distracted. He steals constant glances towards the Red Bull garage across the pit lane, searching for a familiar face.

He spots you, standing by Christian, your interaction is tense, your father screams at you while you just only nod at his words while holding a few tears in your shy eyes. A pang of fury shoots through Charles, followed by a wave of regret. His outburst in Austria hangs heavy in the air, a barrier he needs to break. He, despite everything, is moderately informed about what happened between you and your father thanks to Max, and it hurts him not to have approached you much sooner.

The pit lane opens to finally start the grand prix, snapping Charles back to reality. He throws on his helmet, a steely resolve replacing his earlier anxiety.

***

Charles finishes a strong second, the podium it's a little bit bittersweet. He emerges from the car, the cheers of the tifosi a distant echo. All he can think about is you.

He finds you in the Red Bull hospitality, a hesitant knock on the door of your office, announcing his arrival. The room falls silent as he enters.

You stand by the window, your back towards him. Your posture is stiff, but Charles can sense the tremor in your shoulders.

“Y/n?” he say quietly.

You turn slowly, your eyes guarded. The hurt in your gaze is a mirror to his own regret.

“Charles...” you say softly.

There's an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Charles takes a deep breath.

“I can't apologize enough for Austria. I... I was a complete idiot.” he says.

“Words don't erase the hurt, Charles.” you say in a low voice.

He takes a step closer. “I know. But I wanted you to know... these past few weeks, all I could think about was your words. About the pressure, about being judged... You opened my eyes to a side of you I never knew existed.” He reaches out, hesitantly offering his hand. “And in doing so, I realized... how much I care about you.”

You stare at his hand, then back at his face. A flicker of vulnerability crosses your features before you speak.

“You can't just say things like that, Charles. Not after everything.”

“I know, but I have to try. Because the alternative... the alternative is losing you completely.” says sincerely. He sees a flicker of emotion in your eyes, a flicker that speaks of hope.

“This won't be easy, Charles. My father... Things haven't been so smooth lately between him and I.”

“I know. But maybe, just maybe, we can face it together... Like you said, we both understand this world, the pressure. Maybe we can be each other's support system, not just through wins and losses, but through everything else.” he say softly.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You look at him, a question in your eyes.

“So, what are you saying?” you asked him.

Charles takes a chance, the weight of his feelings pulling him forward. He steps closer, your faces inches apart.

“I'm saying that... give me another chance, please. A chance to prove that I can be the man you deserve.” he whispers. “Please, if you want, I beg you on my knees... I'll do anything, but please give me a chance.”

The air crackles with unspoken emotions. You lean in, closing the distance between the both of you. At first, the kiss is hesitant and at the same time soft and slow, then deepens, a promise unspoken but understood.

Pulling away, Charles searches your soft eyes.

“Is that a yes?” he smiled while blushing.

You smile softly, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes.

“Maybe... How about we can do something casual between us, not business related, just to get to know each other better?” you say shyly.

A grin spreads across Charles' face, relief washing over him like a victory lap. “It's a deal darling.” you giggled.

He leans in for another kiss, the roar of the engines and the crowd outside a distant echo of the race that's just begun – the race for your hearts.

***

The air crackles with a different kind of tension now. You and Charles break apart from your long awaited kiss, foreheads resting against each other. Relief, hope, and a spark of defiance dance in your eyes.

“We should probably get going before someone sees us, don't you think?” you whisper shyly.

Charles nods, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He reaches for the door, ready to usher you out, but it swings open before he can touch it.

Standing in the doorway is Christian, his face a thundercloud. The celebratory atmosphere in the room evaporates, replaced with a chilling silence.

“Y/n! My office. Now.” he says with a strong and demanding voice.

You flinch, your body tensing and shaking at your father's tone, but Charles steps forward, his stance protective.

“Actually, she's not going anywhere Horner.” Charles says calmly.

Christian's gaze snaps to him, fury replacing the icy anger. “And who are you to tell me what to do in my own hospitality suite, Leclerc?” he scoffs.

“Someone who cares about her, a concept you seem to have forgotten.” Charles says with a hard and firm voice.

The room collectively gasps. You reaches out a hand to touch Charles' arm, a silent plea for caution. But Charles shakes you off gently, his green eyes boring into Christian's.

“You judge her, belittle her, just because of your own insecurities. You push her away with every harsh word and raised eyebrow.” Charles says defending you, maybe you and him weren't that close, but probably Max told him about what happened between you and Christian.

Christian lunges forward, his hand raised in a threatening gesture. But Charles doesn't back down, he catches Christian's wrist mid-air, his grip surprisingly strong.

“Don't. Even. Think. About. Touching. Her.” Charles says in a low, dangerous voice. “And if you do, you'll deal with me, is that clear?”

Christian throws Charles a withering look before turning and storming out of the room. The silence that follows is deafening. No one had ever spoken to your father that way, not even Max or Jos, but the fact that Charles was the first to do it was something... Shocking, especially for you.

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze flickering between the slammed door and Charles. “I... Charles.” you say in a shaky whisper.

He whispers back. “Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong sweetie.” he takes your hand in his. “He's such a jerk.” He pulls you towards the door, a newfound determination in his eyes. “We're leaving, now. We can deal with your father later, together, okay?” he says.

You hesitate for a moment, then you nodded in agreement, as you walk out of the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn and whispers follow. But you don't care anymore, you have each other, and that's all that matters.

You two step out into the cool evening air, the roar of the Italian crowd a distant hum. Your hands are intertwined, a silent promise against the warm setting sun.

You two may have a long road ahead, filled with challenges and disapproval, but you'll face it together, a united front against the storm.

“Thank you... For what you did in there.” You say softly, he smiles and brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of your hand.

“It's nothing ma belle, I know I may not know the whole story since the begging, but I'm willing to help you.” he says the same in a whisper.

“I just want to know... Who told you about it?” you asked softly.

“Max told me.” He says and you laugh.

“I thought so! It doesn't bother me that he did it anyway.” you say and let out a giggle while you shake your head. “I think it's something you deserved to know.”

He smiles at you tenderly. “How about we forget this mess with your father with a good pizza, huh?” he says softly.

“And where would we go?” you shyly asked him.

“We can go to my hotel room... Unless you don't want to, I know it would be awkward but... I don't know, ugh.” He said and started babbling, you smiled seeing him like that, it seemed like the cutest thing of all, seeing him nervous about doing something simple with you.

You smiled and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. “I would love to eat pizza with you in your hotel room Charlie.” you say softly. “So it's a date?”

“It's a date.” He says softly as he kisses the tip of your nose and you giggle. “A date between Ferrari's golden boy and the red bull girl.” he says in a whisper while letting out a giggle.

You smiled tenderly. “You couldn't have said it better.” You whispered back.

To think that a couple of months ago you had not imagined that situation, to see Charles against your father and defending you like a true gentleman, but here you two were. Maybe at the beginning not everything was rosy or he simply didn't tolerate you at all due to false "nepotism" status around you, but you both understand how difficult and complicated this world is, maybe with different perspectives, but you two are there to support each other in the ups and downs.

[ckret2]

Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

A Day in the Life...

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You're hired to be famous actor, Bucky Barnes' social media manager. This is probably the best and worst job you've ever gotten because Bucky gives you free reign of his social media but also...you may or may not be crushing on Bucky aka your boss. Based off my imagine here.

A/N: this is 3,180 words because i refused to break it up into parts. anyway, ENJOY!

You press record and begin to narrate, "A Day in the Life of a Social Media Manager for a Super Big and Popular Actor *Working Title*"

You face the camera to you and continue to speak, "Bucky had some morning meetings but I wasn't allowed to film. So now here he is doing his daily workout."

You pan the camera to him and he says, "Hi," with a shy smile.

You snort, stopping the recording, "What?"

"This is..." he gestures to you and your work phone, "awkward."

"Then don't make it awkward! And hey, you said I had free reign! I asked your followers what they'd like to see and they say they want a glimpse of your daily life."

His brows furrow, "Didn't you just say this is a day in the life of a social media manager?"

You shrug, "The poll was tied to seeing your daily life and my daily life working for you. So I just decided to put the two together. Anyway, the title is a work in progress. We'll see how this does and go from there. Anyway, just ignore me. I'm not even here."

Bucky gets back to his work out. He has an outdoor and indoor set up. Because the weather was nice, he decided to do his workout outside...shirtless.

He goes to the lifting station, picking up some weights. You begin to narrate again, but this time in a Steve Irwin impression, "Right. Now watch as the esteemed actor gets ready to work out his arms in preparation for an awesome movie that I'm not allowed to mention."

Bucky lets out a chuckle, dropping the weights and looking back at you, "You filming a nature documentary now?" he rests his hands on his hips and smirks at you in a way that makes you want to melt.

You give a playful yet dramatic sigh, dropping your filming arm down, "Are you this difficult with your directors, Barnes?"

He shakes his head, "Nah. None of my directors have been as dorky as you."

You stick your tongue out at him, "Fine. I'll leave you to your workout."

"No, hey, I was joking! Don't leave me!"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Bucky. I'll leave you to it. I'll chalk up some other videos we could do. Also, the getty images from last night's premiere are up. Did you want to look through them before I post?"

He shakes his head, "I trust your judgement." he turns around, his bare back facing you. You stay and watch as he do a few arm curls and immediately rush back into his home.

"Get it together, Y/N," you mumble to yourself, leaving your boss to his workout.

________________________

During Bucky's fitting for New York's Fashion Week, you were allowed to take some behind the scenes pictures. You have a few candid ones of Bucky standing in front of a mirror, his stylist fixing his collar, and him looking at the different shoe options.

Then you included some goofy ones where he copies a pose of a mannequin, a selfie of you two showing of your shoe choices (his being very fancy and yours being your regular sneakers), and then a selfie of him wearing a pair of sunglasses without a lens.

You posted all of them after fashion week was over and his Instagram followers were LOVING it.

bbarnesfan: STAHP. he's so adorable.

xbucky-muncher: he went from serious to dork. get you a man who can do both.

notyouraveragebuckyfan: ok but him and his social media manager are so cute together???

bbarnesfan replies: they're literally bucky's employee. don't be weird.

notyouraveragebuckyfan replies: i'm just saying! they seem like they have great chemistry! have you seen the tiktoks and reels of them together?

"How come you put the candids and the selfies all in one post?" Bucky asks as he looks through the latest post you made.

You're scrolling through the analytics of the last tiktok you two made, one where he guesses if one of his characters said a specific line or it's made up.

You take note of the demographics, the comments, etc. to be mindful of for the next posts you make.

Without looking up from your laptop, you answer, "It shows people the different sides of you. How you take things seriously but you can also have fun with it."

He hums, "Lots of people think we look cute together." He says this in hopes of getting some sort of reaction from you.

You continue to work, not looking back at them, "Don't pay attention to those comments. The internet will make up all kinds of stuff."

Bucky's shoulders sag a bit as he replies, "Yeah. You're right."

You'd been working for him for almost a year now. He doesn't see you every day like he did when you first were hired on. Now you only come over twice a week to go over analytics with his team and to shoot some content. Most of the time, you work from your place and Bucky's been feeling more lonely ever since.

Your presence brightened his day and you provided a breath of fresh air on his busier days. He genuinely enjoyed your company and liked making content with you. He liked learning more about you, having meals together, and just being with you. He thought that maybe there was something there between you, but then he'd be reminded that you're his employee and he's your boss. It can't work out.

But there were some glimpsed of hope. You'd look at Bucky a certain way or make a comment that seemed a little more flirty. It had to mean something, right? But whenever Bucky tried to push a little more, you'd pull away and he hated it. It was so complicated.

He wanted you as more than an employee but his team clocked him on his feelings and told him not to fuck it up because you've helped Bucky's image immensely.

He can't fuck this up, not matter how much his heart yearns for more.

___________________________

"Hello, hello!" you greet Bucky, handing him his coffee as he lets you into his home. You've been working for him for over a year. It's one out of the two days you come over to do work with him.

His stylist, Michael, was nice enough to bring some clothes over for a TikTok video that you had which was "My Social Media Manager Picks Out My Next Event Outfit".

The next event that Bucky needs to make an appearance in is his friend, Nat's, movie premiere. The dress code is very formal so it's no surprise to see various kinds of formal wear.

What does surprise you is that you see a rack of clothes that you know wouldn't be for Bucky.

"Um...what's this?"

He grins widely at you, "Clothes for you to choose from."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"You said you've always wanted to go to one right? You're coming with me."

"As your social media manager?"

"You're not working the event. You're going as my plus one."

"Uuuuhhh..."

"You don't have to, but I was hoping to bring you as, ya know, a thank you for all the amazing work you've done for me this past year."

You can't help but snort, "Bucky, c'mon, did all of your usuals reject you or something?"

"You're the only person I've asked right now. Come on, Y/N, please?"

You want to. You really, really want to. But these past few months, you and Bucky have been toeing the line between a work relationship and something more. You're not sure if going as his plus one to the premiere is a good idea, especially since even more people have been commenting on your chemistry.

But Bucky's looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and he's pouting and he looks so cute, so how could you say no?

"I'll think about it," you reply and it seems to appease Bucky because he smiles again and says, "Okay. But I really do hope you'll go. It'll be fun, plus you've met Nat. She thinks you're cool."

You scoff, "There's no way Natasha Romanoff, the hottest and most popular actress right now, thinks I'm cool."

He shrugs, "Everyone thinks you're cool. It's hard to not like you, Y/N, trust me," he gives you a wink and it makes your cheeks warm up, "Anyway, so let's see what we got."

You wordlessly nod, going over to set up your work phone to begin filming.

________________________

You think you did really well with picking out Bucky's outfit. It was a royal blue velvet jacket with a black bow tie, and black slacks. Even Michael was impressed with your choice.

Even though you weren't working tonight, you still took some pictures and clips just in case. You took a video of the reveal of your look tonight and can't help but feel bubbly inside when Bucky wouldn't stop looking at you.

To distract yourself, you decided to take candids of Bucky getting his hair done after you were finished getting ready. He kept making funny faces at you, making you laugh.

After you both were ready, you took some mirror selfies, obviously, and sent them to Bucky afterwards.

You're in the car on the way to the premiere when you get a bunch of texts and notifications from people:

Wanda: I KNOW YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO THE PREMIERE BUT YOU DIDN'T SAY AS BUCKY'S DATE!

Pietro: good luck tonight! use protection! ;D

Carol: since when are you dating bucky barnes???

You unlock your phone but see a notification that Bucky tagged you in a post you didn't know he was going to make.

It was the mirror selfies you two took, with the caption: got the most gorgeous date on my arm tonight.

You immediately turn to Bucky, eyes narrowing, "James Buchanan Barnes."

"...I don't like how you just used my government name like that."

"Why would you post those selfies of us?!"

He shrugs, "Because we look great."

"And the caption?"

"It's true. You're gorgeous."

You groan and pinch the bridge of your nose, "Your publicist and manager are gonna kill me."

"No, they won't."

"They hired me to make sure your online presence is good and won't jeopardize your career."

"Nothing's gonna happen, Y/N."

"People already assume we're together because of how well we work together. It was fine to let them speculate because but that post will make things even worse."

"How?"

"People will think I'm a gold digger? That I got this job because we're sleeping together? I don't know! The internet makes up all kinds of fucked up reasons and I won't be able to get work ever again!"

"But is it so bad that people think we're together?"

"For you, it won't be bad. For me, it could be. So, please, Bucky, delete those photos before even more people see it."

Bucky's jaw clenches and mumbles out, "Fine. I'm sorry," he takes out his phone and you watch as he deletes the photos off his instagram. Tonight was supposed to be fun, but you're sure you just ruined it.

____________________

The entire night was awkward. Bucky did his best to still include you in conversations he had with friends and colleagues, but you felt the tension between you two. You did your best to enjoy it as much as you can. You saw Nat for a brief moment where you hugged her and congratulate her. She said she wanted to chat later but you didn't really expect much. This is her premiere and she has other priorities.

She proved you wrong, however, during the after party where she pulled you to an area for more privacy.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Um, good. A little overwhelmed, but, uh, tonight's been...fun."

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes at you, just like her character did in the movie, and you can't help but let the truth spill, "I freaked out on Bucky on the way here. He posted pictures of us that insinuate we're together and I don't want it to result in me getting fired and potentially never getting a job like this ever again."

"Yeah, I saw that before he deleted it. You guys looked cute. Also, are you two not dating?"

"What? No! He's literally my boss!"

She shrugs, "Could've fooled me. Anyway, there's something clearly going on between you two, right?"

"I, uh, I don't know what to say. Do I have feelings for him? Yes. But will I act on them? No. Again, he's my boss, I'm his employee. I really like this job too, so I can't risk anything."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming."

"...but he's so amazingly funny, smart, hot, understanding, compassionate, and I just love spending time with him. It's so fucked, Nat.

She nods in understanding, "I know, hon. I'm gonna say the most cliche thing ever, but listen to your heart. I'm sure you'll find another job just as fun as this one, but to be with someone you click so well with? That doesn't come often."

"Hey, you okay?" Bucky comes up from behind, placing a hand on your hip and looking at you with concern.

Nat flashes him a smile, "Just wanted to catch up with them, but I've hogged up your date long enough, Barnes." she turns back to you, "Think about what I said, okay? Enjoy the rest of your night and thanks for coming," she hugs you and heads back out to the party.

Bucky nods to her and stands in front of you, "Did you want to stay longer or are you ready to go?"

"I think I'm ready to go for the night."

"Alright." you follow him out to the front where you wait for the driver to pick you guys up. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets, wearing that gorgeous outfit you chose.

"I'm sorry again about the pictures."

"Thank you, I'm sorry I attacked you like that."

He shakes his head, "Don't be. I get why you did. But, um, we're good?"

You nod, "Yeah, Bucky, we're good."

"Good," he gives you a shy smile and then points at the upcoming car, "Our ride's here." As soon as the SUV pulls up, he opens the door for you and lets you go in first. He follows and the drive home is in silence.

_________________________

You're working in your little alcove at Bucky's when he approaches you, "Hey, I need to talk to you about something."

You turn in your chair and look up at him, "This doesn't sound good."

"It's good and bad."

"Um, okay?" you clasp your hands together in your lap in anxiousness.

"So...I'm hiring a different social media manager."

Your heart drops, "Wh-What? But-But I thought I was doing well. Your team said I was doing a good job. What happened?"

"You are, but lemme also add that there's another job already waiting for you."

"Bucky, I'm so confused right now. Are you firing me? Or contracting me to someone else?"

"I'm firing you because I can't date an employee."

You straighten up at his statement, "Excuse me?"

Bucky steps closer to you, reaching out and grabbing your hand, "It's just...shit, Y/N, you gotta know how I feel about you right?"

You bite your lip in nervousness, "Maybe."

He lets out a long sigh and run a hand through his cropped hair, "Listen, I like you. A lot. That's the real reason I wanted you to come with me to the premiere. I love spending time with you and I've been so much happier since you've started working for me. To be honest, I didn't know how much longer I could keep myself from wanting to be with you. So to still make sure your professionalism was in tact, I reached out to Nat to see if she was in need of an amazing social media manager and, luckily, she was."

"I'm gonna work for Nat? Nat wants me to work for her?"

Bucky nods, "She does. So you'll be working for her which means I'm not longer your boss. Which means...will you go on a date with me?"

Fuck it. Fuck it all. You held in your feelings for Bucky for so long and now you've been given a loophole to be with him.

"I like you too, Bucky. So much, I didn't say anything, obviously, because I wanted to remain professional, but fuck did you make it hard to not fall for you."

Bucky snickers with a smirk, "I can say the same thing about you." His thumb caresses the back of your hand and it feels so right.

"Have you actually hired someone to take over for me?"

"Not officially, but I have some applicants already. Why? Do you know someone?"

You nod, "I do. She just graduated college with a degree in communications with a concentration in social media. I can have her send in an application, but I one hundred percent vouch for her. She's done great work."

"Alright. I trust you, but I don't think I can find anyone who works as well as you do."

"I fucking hope not. Or else you might leave me for them!"

"Never," Bucky replies confidently with a softness in his voice and adoration in his eyes.

"So...about that date..."

_______________________

"Come with me to work for a popular actor!" Kamala narrates her latest TikTok.

"So Bucky is working on a new movie with Natasha Romanoff so for promo we're filming a bunch of different content!" Nat and Bucky wave at the camera.

"After filming all of that, they're off to a photoshoot. Here are some of the potential outfits they can wear." the camera pans to several racks of clothing.

"There's a lunch break and here's my lunch versus Bucky's lunch," Kamala's plate is pasta while Bucky's roast chicken, "The boss needs to bulk up for another role so he needs a lot of protein."

"And that's all that I can show you for today. Until next time, bye!"

You scroll to the comments and they're immediately flooded with"

you're not y/n???

wait, did y/n quit?! did bucky fire them?! no!

what happened to y/n?!

and so on.

You snort and show Bucky, who was cuddling you from behind, "I told you people would notice."

He peers over your shoulder to look at your phone, "Kamala actually had an idea for that."

_________________

"A Day in the Life of an Actor's Social Media Manager. Part...whatever. So we're doing more promo stuff for Bucky and Nat's new movie. But this time I'm also working with Nat's social media manager, Y/N! We're doing a What's in the Box Challenge and here's a clip of Bucky freaking out."

"IT'S MOVING! WHY IS IT MOVING?!"

"Also look at Bucky and Y/N. They're so cute together. And yes, guys, they're totally dating now which is why Y/N no longer works for Bucky. ANYWAY..."

[roosterforme]

Oouuu could you do a Drabble for Darlin and Hangman where he gets called to the hospital because Darlin had a bad migraine 🥹 totally fine if you don’t want to tho thank uuu bestie 🥹🫶🏻💗

Okay, but imagine if Darlin' was supposed to meet Jake somewhere and didn't show up on time. That would be so unlike her. He'd wait around for a few minutes and then start to call her. When it goes to voicemail five times in a row, he would really start to worry.

Jake hopped back in his truck, and headed for the apartment you shared with Kylie. Your last class ended hours ago, and you always answered or texted him back when he called. You even took your phone into the bathroom to listen to music when you showered. You should have been able to hear your ringtone.

As he knocked on the door, he could just tell something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention, and when Kylie opened the door, he was immediately looking past her into the apartment.

"Jake," Kylie greeted, delight lacing her voice and a smile adorning her face.

"Is she home?" he asked immediately, barely meeting her eyes before he was looking over her head again.

"Oh," she replied casually. "No, she's not."

Now he looked at her. "Do you know where she is?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, taking a step closer to him. "She got taken to the hospital."

"The hospital?!" he asked, panic rising up inside him as his heart pounded distressinly fast. "What happened?" he damanded.

Kylie shrugged. "She's probably fine. She collapsed during of her classes."

"What the fuck?" He was nearly in hysterics, and Kylie was barely showing any emotion. "Why aren't you there with her? Why didn't anyone let me know about it?"

"Like I said, she's probably fine," she replied. "And you're probably not listed as an emergency contact."

"Well, I will be after this," he snarled, turning away and sprinting for his truck.

It wasn't a long drive to get to the hospital, but now he was concerned that they wouldn't give him any information. He really should be listed as one of your emergency contacts along with your parents. Technically, he lived closer to your campus than they did, and he could get to you faster in an event like this. But luckily, after someone scanned his driver's license and military ID, they gave him permission to see you.

When he tore into the room, sick to his stomach over the sight of you wearing a hospital gown with an IV in your arm, you looked up at him and smiled. "Jake. You found me."

"Darlin', what happend?" he asked softly, running his hand along your forehead and down your cheek. You were a little clammy, and you looked tired, but you seemed to be okay as you melted into his touch.

"I had a migraine, and I thought I could make it to the end of my class, but it got so bad, I fainted."

"Fuck," he gasped, sinking to his knees next to the bed and kissing your fingers. "You're okay now?"

You nodded. "Mostly. I have some bruised ribs from falling out of my seat awkwardly. They're giving me some pain medicine and fluids."

He sighed deeply, finally letting himself calm down. "I was worried when you never showed up to meet me. Do you want me to call your parents from your phone?"

You grimaced and pointed toward the small tray table. Your phone screen was shattered into a million tiny pieces. "The hospital called them for me. They're on their way. I would have called you, too, but I couldn't."

"I'll buy you a new phone tomorrow," he promised as your parents both walked into the room.

"Oh, good. Jake's already here," your mom said, heading right to your side. "Maybe you should make him an emergency contact, too. It took us forever to get here."

"We'll take care of that tomorrow, too," Jake whispered, kissing your fingers again.

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Thought I Lost You: Dad!Jake Sully

Avatar Masterlist 

word count: 683

request: Hi! I loved your Good Enough story and the way you wrote dad jake...I was wondering if your requests are open.. can you do something with Jake and his daughter??? Where it's based on the battle scene on the boat, and everyone is gathering together to reunite only you his daughter is still missing because you got trapped while making sure your little sister Tuk made it out safely, so he goes back and tries to find you?

A/N: Girl dad jake is my favorite thing to write right now <3

"Tuk Tuk I need you to go first." You said to your little sister who looked at you nervously.

"It's okay Tuk, your smaller and I gotta be able to close this behind us. Please go ahead." You said nervously watching the water coming towards you two.

She made her way through the hole and scooted back so you would have room to get through only a gush of water came rushing over you and shutting the door leaving you two separated.

"Y/N!" She screamed pulling on the bars.

"Tuk Tuk listen to me...I need you to find dad, mom, or someone and bring them back to me. Can you do that?" You asked her.

"But I don't want to leave you!" She said crying as you laced your hand with hers through the bars.

"I know you don't but I'm trapped here, Tuk...please I need you to be strong and find someone, I'll be okay." You said even though you knew you probably weren't.

"Okay, I'll be back!" She said before disappearing as you prayed to Ewya that she got to someone before it was too late.

Jake sat on the rock with your brothers around him watching as Neytiri and Kiri swam over to him he let out a sigh of relief until he realized that you and Tuk were still missing. He hugged his wife and Kiri praying that you two made it out.

"Where's Tuk and Y/N?" Neytiri asked Jake noticing her two girls were missing.

'Mama! Daddy!" Tuk shouted as they swam over to her and helped her to the rock where everyone was.

"No! Sissy is trapped! We need to go save her." Tuk said as her parents looked at each other wide-eyed.

"Okay, we're gonna get her." Jake said slightly even more worried about you.

"I'm gonna take Neteyam and Tuk with me, so she can show me where she her, I'll send them back." Jake said to Neytiri who nodded her.

"Be safe and bring our daughter back." She said to him as he nodded his head before following Tuk and Neteyam back into the almost sunken ship.

"Help! Someone please." Jake heard you say.

"Babygirl?" He called back out as they continued swimming towards you.

"Dad!" You called out worriedly as the water continued to rise by the second, you could barely keep your head above water.

"Dad!" You said smiling once you saw him.

"Alright you two go back to your brother, we'll be right behind you." He said to your siblings who nodded their heads and headed back.

"It's alright, I'm here baby girl." He said as he tried to pull on the bars that divided you two.

"Daddy please.." You said as the water rose even more as he worked frantically, your cries making his heart hurt.

"I'll be right back." He said swimming off to see if he could something to break the bars with.

"Daddy please don't....You said as the water submerged you under it, and you tried to hold your breath as long as you could before you drifted.

Jake came back and saw you were gone making him even more determined to get you, using what he found as a lever, he was able to use it enough to make a big enough hole for you guys to get through. He swam down and began searching for you, he found still falling downward and was able to grab your hand and found an easier exit out of the snuck ship. He swam to the nearest rock and placed you on it, and began doing CPR, and eventually you came back to coughing out some water.

"Thought I lost you there baby girl." He said smiling at you.

"Thank you for coming back for me." You said wrapping your arms around him as he held you close to him.

"I always will." He said as he saw the rest of your family swimming over to where you guys were.

Your mother and siblings all joined in on the group hug, glad that you all made it out alive.

[ginnymoonbeam]

Ep 8 of The On1y One had so much, but now that I've cried over the word "home" I wanna go back to the scenes between the teachers, because it hit some queer realities we don't often get in BL.

First, Jenny Yang noticing Lin Bei Ting's rainbow mug and asking if he supports gay rights. That's not code for asking if he's gay - in plenty of places and times, just being an ally is controversial and something you might need to be careful about revealing in a conservative workplace. I take all of Jenny's comments and warnings at face value there: she's letting him know this is not a safe place to be public as an ally. Of course he is also actually gay, so the threat to him is much higher, which is why he immediately gives her the mug.

Then the later scene, getting more into a dynamic that we've already seen where Zhao Xi is friendly to the point of gentle flirtation with Jenny, and Lin Bei Ting is clearly unhappy. When we first saw this in ep 7, I wondered if I'd been wrong to read Zhao Xi and Lin Bei Ting as already a couple, but seeing it here and with the previous conversation in mind, I think they are. There's "we're not saying anything but people can draw their own conclusions" closeted and then there's seriously for-real closeted where you might opt to do things like casually flirt with a female coworker to keep up the appearance, and the latter is what I see happening in these scenes. They would absolutely lose their jobs at the school and probably would have their business targeted if people thought they were a couple. Lin Bei Ting understands what Zhao Xi is doing and why, but it sucks and feels bad. The little apologetic "here's your tea too" moment said so much, in how they both understand what's happening here and there's not much Zhao Xi can do in the moment, in public, to make it up to him.

All this happening in an episode where it seems like the whole world is gossiping about Jiang Tian and Sheng Wang moving into the dorms just makes my heart ache for the boys, and the threats they might face. I think the juxtaposition is deliberate and I think Zhao Xi is having some of the same thoughts as the teachers discuss the kids. My read is that he knows or guesses Jiang Tian is gay and has been shepherding him a little on that basis, standing by to give him guidance or just a gleam of hope, in the way that we elder queers do when we see young ones that don't have home and family support. We'll see where it all goes, but I really love the way the elders have been woven into the story so far.

[cod-dump]

Trouble (teen!Ghost au)

___

They weren't bad kids but they were easily influenced.

"Don't your dads drink?" Alejandro pressed, Rudy rolling his eyes when he continued on the matter.

"Ale, don't be a bad influence."

"I'm not a bad influence! But come on- No parents in the house and we're just to behave?"

Simon never felt the need to impress Alejandro. They became friends a few weeks after Alejandro first moved here and went to their school. How? He's not sure but he considers himself stuck with the boy. It didn't matter if he wasn't 'cool' like Alejandro.

But Kyle? He was confident, but he was a bit shy around Rudy. Alex being there in the mix didn't help.

"I mean- Dad has a bottle of whisky downstairs in the basement. For when work gets a bit difficult."

"Oh, whisky?"

Alejandro perked up and Rudy showed interest, it was too late for Simon to stop Kyle.

"No- That's Dad's. He'll know if we go down there! Besides, I'm not drinking with Gary in the house!"

Gary was currently downstairs in the living room with Farah, both deciding to binge watch a bunch of Disney movies until bedtime. Alejandro just snorted.

"We'll be up here, away from the bichito."

Alex decided to join in, not helping the situation despite clearly trying to, "Doesn't Nik drink? Could grab from his stash since he's much more laid back."

This encouraged Kyle who silenced Simon before he could speak, "He has this special vodka he gets imported from Russia! But we don't know where he hides it, he doesn't even like sharing it with Dad."

Alejandro sighs, "Special vodka sounds killer..."

Rudy wasn't much involved in the conversation, just silently judging his boyfriend. Simon was mostly stunned by this rebellious nature Kyle was showing. Drinking? He was sixteen!

"Bro-"

Kyle stood up just then, "Then I'll go grab the whisky."

Simon immediately grabbed Kyle's sleeve and dragged him back to the floor.

"No! Are you crazy!?"

"C'mon, Si. Just a sip."

"No no-"

Simon couldn't stop Kyle. He was already out the room, jumping over Riley and narrowly dodging a very confused Smokey. Alejandro was laughing, mostly from disbelief. Kyle Price was a good child, where was this coming from?

Simon was going to kill him if their father didn't.

"Wow-"

"Ale I'm killing you later."

"Not my fault! You know I tease!"

Simon groans and gets off the floor. He had to get Kyle before he broke something or successfully stole their dad's whisky. He couldn't even imagine the old man's heartbreak at the discovery of not just his baby boy growing up but also adopting a rebellious phase. It would certainly kill him.

Simon was in the hall when Riley started barking excitedly. He ran past him whining and went straight down the stairs. Then Alex called out worriedly.

"There's a car in the driveway- I THINK IT'S YOUR DAD OH GOD-"

Alejandro cusses and jumps up, "Oh Kyle is so dead."

Simon, without thinking, grabs his phone and goes to call Kyle, Thankfully the nerd was never without his phone.

"Si, I'm already down here you can't stop me-"

"Dad's home early!"

Kyle was quiet before he spoke in a hushed tone, "Can you distract him?"

"Kyle-"

"Simon I am rethinking every decision I ever made right now please distract him."

Simon cusses, "Fine! I mean, you're only in trouble if you get caught."

Simon rushes downstairs while Alex, Alejandro, and Rudy stay where they are, probably waiting to see how this ends without getting caught in the crossfire. Right there in the living room was John, petting Riley while Farah and Gary sat on the couch, curled up in blankets with pillows and snacks.

"Back already?"

"For a moment, date night is still on just need to drop this file off."

In his office. Downstairs. Where Kyle is.

Simon ran into the living room and jumped at his father, the man wheezing at the sudden embrace from his son.

"What's with the hug? And when did you get so big?" John said with a light chuckle in his voice, arm around Simon's shoulders and a hand in his hair.

Simon didn't respond to the question, just squeezed onto John's middle, Riley whining at their feet. Farah immediately caught on that something was going on. John also caught on but immediately leaning into something had upset Simon and the teen didn't want to talk about it.

"Si... is everything okay?"

Simon wasn't sure if playing into him being upset was even safe. Running to his father the moment he walked in the door when his friends were staying over? Simon didn't want to risk John assuming they did something.

"Just... missed my old man. You could die any minute so I need to appreciate you whenever I can."

Farah's jaw dropped, dumbfounded, while Gary was absorbed in Finding Nemo and couldn't care less. John cared, the statement of course was alarming.

"Uh, do we need to talk? Nik will survive if we cancel date night."

Simon remained still, eyes wide. Was stirring the pot that was Simon's mental state worth preventing his father from catching his brother trying to steal a bottle of whisky?

I fucking suck at distracting people.

"I... Just love my dad."

Oh that didn't help.

"That settles it. I'm putting this paperwork away and you and me are gonna have a little talk."

FUCK FUCK FUCK-

"I can put it away," enter Nik. Simon certainly didn't have enough arm strength to hold bother men.

"UH- THE BASEMENT IS HAUNTED."

Farah blinked before she made a conclusion in her head. She calmly stood up, taking her blanket and tucking Gary in to the couch before she fast walked into the hall, out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

"... what are you kids up to?"

"Not even going to entertain the haunted bit?" honestly Simon was disappointed by that. Not even Nik took a bite at that.

"I'm not scared of ghosts, малыш."

Nik walked past them, taking the paperwork that laid on the end table as he went. Simon tried to pull away from John with the intention of jumping Nik, but his father kept a firm hold on him.

Gary was no longer watching the TV and instead was staring at Simon and John. Great, now he was more entertaining than Finding Nemo. This was a shit distraction.

"Simon. What's going on? Be honest."

Simon didn't get a chance to get a word out before Nik returned. With Kyle. Kyle was staring at the floor in shame when Nik held up John's whisky. As predicted, John was heartbroken.

"Kyle? No-"

"I... was curious..."

"You-"

John squeezed Simon and Simon feared his father's sanity.

"You were helping him?" Oh he sounded truly betrayed.

"I tried stopping him!"

"Oh you did an excellent job," Nik said with a laugh. He shut up when John looked at him with fire in his eyes.

"... I said I would buy you a nice liquor cabinet but no, you didn't want to be perceived as that kind of father."

"You-"

"-could've avoided this."

John scoffed and Simon clocked Nik trying to defuse the situation by turning the attention onto him. He had released Kyle who backed behind him.

"Simon. Go take Gary and Kyle to your room. I need to have a word with Nikolai.

Nik, for his credit, didn't flinch at the use of his full name. Simon parted from his father and grabbed Gary, who thankfully didn't fight him and just went along with him. He slipped past Nik and Kyle followed without word.

They darted upstairs and after a minute Riley followed. They didn't hear yelling, John and Nik weren't the types to yell. Simon predicted they would focus on the liquor cabinet comment before actually talking about what Kyle did or attempted to do. Either way things would be fine in the morning just awkward.

When they slipped into Simon's room Alex and Farah were there, Farah sitting on the bed while Alex was still on the beanbag.

"Uh, where is Ale and Rudy?"

"Oh they climbed out your window not long after you ran downstairs. They didn't want to be involved in Kyle's punishment."

Oh those assholes.

"Smart for Ale. His dad would murder him if Dad called him about picking him up."

"Didn't he drive here?"

"Ale's dad has towed his car before to ground him."

Alex thought Simon was joking and laughed. Simon wasn't joking.

Kyle couldn't find any humor in the situation and walked over to Alex, slumping onto the beanbag and shoving Alex to the floor.

"Oh why did I do that..."

Farah, having been filled in by Alex, rolls her eyes, "You're a boy, a natural idiot. Seriously, if you guys wanted a drink you should've had Ale go buy you something."

Silence.

Then Kyle sat up, "I'm going to kill Alejandro."

___

Why Johnny or Hong-Jin weren't there? Johnny went to Scotland to his material grandmother and Hong-Jin? Hong-Jin has a gaming tournament. Couldn't figure out how to fit these facts into the drabble but didn't want them to remain unknown lol

[luveline]

Can I request an Eddie and Roan, where she goes to Wayne's house and Eddie and Reader are there talking with Wayne but also planning what to get Roan for Christmas?

eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader

“Got it?” 

Roan nods and hops up the last step to Uncle Wayne's while you and Eddie follow behind her. You're carrying a big Christmas cake held tight to your chest while Roan's father insists on carrying the drinks, an eighteen pack of glass cokes, enough to keep Wayne going for the next two weeks at least, less with help. 

“Uncle Wayne!” Roan calls as she opens the door. It swings wide and hits the wall. She doesn't care. She's about to see Wayne for the first time in almost two weeks, and she missed him like crazy. Eddie almost got sick of hearing her ask when he'd be feeling better. “Uncle Wayne!” 

The second shout is much more desperate.

Wayne appears in the curve behind the kitchen doorway to smile at her. “Hello, my chicken.” 

Eddie snorts and slams the cokes down on the sideboard with a jumble of clinks. Wayne is a great dad, but he never called Eddie anything so saccharine. Bud and babe was about as good as it got. Roan gets all the sweet stuff, chicken and gorgeous and baby girl. It doesn't quite make Eddie jealous —nothing feels as secure in parenthood as knowing someone else loves your kid just as much as you do. Wayne would die for Roan without question. He can call her chicken if he likes. 

Roan barrels across the carpet in her Mary Jane's and slams into his legs. He pulls her up into his chest, giving her hair a smattering of quick kisses, her dress bunched by his hugging arm. “It's so nice to see you, honey, I missed you!” 

She grins and makes a pleased, almost feral sort of sound as she kisses his cheek. “I missed you too! We missed our sleepover!” 

“Yes, we did. So I get you for two days, yes?” 

“Yes!” she shouts, looking over her shoulder at you and Eddie to confirm. 

Eddie holds up his now empty hands, though they don't stay that way for long as he takes the cake from you. “No arguments here.” 

Roan laughs and squeezes herself under Wayne's chin. He wraps her up and keeps her, assessing you and Eddie with suspicious eyes. “How are you both doing?” 

Eddie brushes past Wayne to put the cake on the table. Wayne isn't really asking Eddie; they know too much about one another having spent the last decade together, first by sharing a wall and now working side by side at the shop. Eddie's sure Wayne's sick to death of his complaining by now, but you're deserving of some sympathy for sure. 

“She's getting better. Aren't you, sweet thing?” Eddie asks you. 

“I'm fine,” you say, shooting Wayne a smile. “It was probably the same thing you had.” 

“Yeah? He take care of you?” 

“Always does. He's never let me down.” You cross your arms over your front. “But how are you doing?” 

“I know you missed her,” Eddie interjects, “but if you're not feeling up to it, she doesn't have to stay all weekend.” 

Wayne raises his eyebrows to protest. Roan beats him to it, yanking herself away from his cuddling to glare at the suggestion. “Dad, you said!” 

“Said I'd see if he was up to it, yeah,” Eddie placates. 

“I'm up to it.” Wayne gives Roan a soft smile. “We'll be good, right? Watch TV, eat hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, ‘n’ dinner. Dad's just being silly.” 

Roan leans back into the hug, relieved, and Wayne pulls her head to his chest, covering her ear subtly. “Thought you needed to get some things? You know, from Santa?” he whispers, ‘Santa’ mouthed without sound. 

“Yeah, if we knew what to get her,” Eddie says, brushing his hair behind his ears. “Kid's impossible. Asked Santa for a baby sister and a pet turtle.” 

“What's wrong with that?” 

“Wayne–” 

“The turtle, I mean.” He nods at you apologetically. 

You aren't offended at the idea of a baby sister being an easy gift, and you laugh at his correction. “We don't have room for the tank, I already checked.” 

“She got the measuring tape out and everything.” 

“What?” Wayne asks. “Put it outside.” 

“It's not that easy,” Eddie sighs morosely. “They're very particular creatures.” 

“It’ll suit you nicely, then.” 

You laugh again. Roan wriggles to be put down, curious at the sound, though she wasn't as deafened as it seemed. “Santa will bring the tank, guys, that's how Santa works, and the turtle. We just need to move the couch,” she says simply. 

“Where will we watch TV?” you ask. 

“Here?” Roan suggests. 

Eddie nudges Wayne in the side. “Looks like I'm moving back in after all.” 

Coats are taken off, shoes stacked in a corner. Wayne makes everyone a cup of coffee and a sandwich, even Roan, though her coffee is milk with just a splash of coffee that she begs for but doesn't touch after the initial sip. Theories for where they might house and care for a pet turtle are shared through crumbs and foam moustaches, Wayne with a lap full of grandchild, and you with an armful of Eddie. He keeps turning to you to scan your face for signs of fatigue or sickness, eyes lingering, his hand resting and rubbing at the top of your thigh. 

“We'll have to give up our room,” he suggests to you with an air of defeat. Despite his sombre tone, love lines his gaze. “When the turtle gets huge and wants to go back to the ocean, we'll have to fill our bedroom up with a swimming pool.” 

Roan sits back guiltily. “Well, maybe not like that. Can the turtle sleep with me?” 

“That could be fun. We'll get you a water bed,” you say, to Eddie's delight. He chokes on a handful of chips and needs to be whacked on the back lest he asphyxiate, and while you're still laughing at your own joke and his reaction, you pat him more gently on the back before passing him your full coke. “Here, handsome.” 

Wayne's pretty sure his nephew's found his soulmate. “What about a tortoise instead?” he asks Roan, attempting to spare you both. 

Roan pouts at her Uncle, confusion furrowing her thin brows. “What's the difference?” 

“Couple hundred dollars?” Eddie asks. 

Wayne kicks him under the table, but never hard enough to hurt. “Nothing much, chick. I'm sure Santa will figure it out.”