#should do better next year for HE deserves first one
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Chapter three of Save the Cat is about figuring out who your "hero" is. This is the money quote:
Tell me a story about a guy who ... I can identify with. I can learn from. I have compelling reason to follow. I believe deserves to win and ... Has stakes that are primal and ring true to me.
And of course this is fine for mass market stuff, which is good given the book is written with mass market movie-goers in mind. But I'm (as Blake Snyder says) a bullheaded writer, and I don't want to write a story like that, or not all the time.
I want a hero who is grappling with purpose, who is facing existential dread, who worries about his legacy or what his life will end up meaning, who cares about the nature of personhood and reality. I want a guy whose stakes are "oh god, is this all predestined" or "are clones people" or "what does it ethically mean to steer a culture". I don't want this all the time, but I do want it a lot of the time. And according to Blake Snyder, this is the sort of story that you can practically hear audiences and producers walking away from.
My next web serial will be Doomsday Pivot!, and the logline is in flux, because the first book is written but unedited, and there's still time to make changes. The short version is, the world has broken apart and everyone gets to choose a character class, so a small startup pivots to becoming their city's first expeditionary force. Something like that, anyway. The stakes are survival, which is primal enough by Blake Snyder's metrics, but that leaves the question of who the protagonist is.
It's not what's in the book, but my sense is that you can give a few of the directives from the money quote a miss and still be fine, and your main character doesn't need to be a complete prototype of the main demographic (or who that demographic sees themselves in, or wants to be).
But it does leave me thinking about my protagonist, and how he's framed, and how to frontload what the audience wants so I can earn some slack later on. There's a particular bit about age there, how going younger is usually the right call, and some of this is outdated market advice given that the book was written in 2005, but I'm approaching 40, and I think I do tend to think of characters as being my same age just by default. My market is a lot different from Snyder's market, mostly in the sense that it skews much younger, mostly teenagers, even if the median patron is older.
So I am left asking myself some questions, which I think is good, and one of the reasons I'm reading this book. Should my protagonist be 34? Or 26? What's the one single adjective that I would use to describe him? What's the one single adjective I would use to describe the antagonists? Snyder suggests that being a slave to the logline is a good thing, and makes for a better story, and I have my own thoughts on that, but one of the pieces of advice that I've been giving in the last few years is "find a singular guiding star for your story and make sure that you don't point yourself too far away from it". I suppose that guiding star could be a logline, though I have my own disagreements with the "logline first" practice.
There are also some parts I found interesting if irrelevant to me about writing with casting in mind, and making sure it's a part that many people can play, but I think it's industry insider stuff that won't become relevant unless I spontaneously decide to start writing scripts with intent to sell, which seems unlikely.
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I posted 2,507 times in 2022
35 posts created (1%)
2,472 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@latitudeoctopus
@accio-victuuri
@p-h03n1-x
@rainbowsky
@tiny-euphoria
I tagged 1,868 of my posts in 2022
Only 25% of my posts had no tags
#lol - 132 posts
#gg - 95 posts
#yibo - 57 posts
#oh no yizhan at it again - 55 posts
#cpn and all that - 38 posts
#hello madness - 37 posts
#lan zhan my beloved - 35 posts
#silly bunny - 19 posts
#aye aye captain - 18 posts
#yibao - 18 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#he's always so beautifully articulate on what touches him deeply during shootings and so cordially dismissive on the unimportant fluff not
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Happy BOBO DAY !!
18 notes - Posted August 5, 2022
#4
idk why but youtube keeps on suggesting tjlc explained. should i give it a try?
27 notes - Posted February 10, 2022
#3
29 notes - Posted May 22, 2022
#2
‘loving you allowed me to be my most extraordinary self‘
Happy Birthday GG!!
31 notes - Posted October 5, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
op tied a curse around lwj neck but it was me who couldn't function. I expected some hot fun but THIS was DEEP and BEAUTIFUL and SOOOOOO POINGNANT that I couldn't even take it all at once!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
that scene where lwj whispers "i love you" in wei ying's hair? I had to put my phone down.
he pleaded "mercy".
He...
44 notes - Posted May 20, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#my 2022 tumblr year in review#on behalf of yibo I'm angry he got the third place#should do better next year for HE deserves first one#Lol
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real
#this is so mind numbingly exhausting i don't understand how everyone else seems to just do it?#it was such a weird day#started out in a good mood but then boss scolded these two interns cause of a mistake#and like he wasn't shouting exactly but he raised his voice and said so many things like you are so careless im suffering so many losses bc#bc of you outsiders are going to think i don't have a good team and i don't have control over my team#and how we should always note things down because we're so distracted and not serious#and how before going home everyday we should report to him what work we did today#i understand that he's being reasonable (maybe? idk) but it sounded so eerily horribly like my dad i couldn't function properly for an hour#why are men so similar everywhere#why am i SO scared i could feel the disappointment radiating off him and he wasn't even mad at me and i felt like a failure#which is so embarrassing like girl stop you are a 20 year old adult woman you will not cry at your workplace because an angry man triggered#your dad issues#and upar se there was a new intern at work one year younger than me and oh my god he was so annoying#like i talked to him first bc i pitied him like what if he felt alone it was only his second day but boy literally could not stop talking😭#like ok it's kinda cool that this senior di she trusted me enough to be like you teach him this project report this when ive only been#here for 3 weeks but bhai😭 he's so annoying 😭 i have newfound respect for the di how does she handle all 7-8 of us interns i would go#crazy and shout at everyone and tell them to leave me alone 😭 but she's so patient and kind and answers dumb questions 100 times#but she's leaving this office permanently from next month bc of her ca final :( i mean very good for her she deserves better more money#better work hours better office etc. but :(( she's leaving :((#as you can see i have both dad issues and abandonment issues so fun lol
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tags: nerd!bang chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, inexperienced chan, experienced reader, kissing, slight corruption kink, kinda toxic relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, exhibitionism lowkey (they’re in a locker room), nicknames (channie, baby, pretty boy), angst kinda?, porn with some plot, etc
wc: 2.06k
add. notes: these previews kilt me. they Kilt Me. therefore i present to u face-sitting with nerd chan. it's not entirely pwp but enjoy anyways :3
. . .
you’re not quite sure how you got here, honestly. one moment, you’re out at cheer practice with your girls, doing complicated stunts and diligently rehearsing the rigorous routines outlined for the upcoming game, all with your coach blowing her whistle every other minute of course. but the next?
you’re in a stuffy locker room making out with the captain of the mathletes team as he pants against your mouth, begging you for more.
it started off with a simple favour— you needed somebody to help you get your grades up after missing one too many classes, and chan was the best in the year; naturally, you asked for his assistance. he’d gone wide in the eyes and red in the face when you’d walked up to him after your shared lecture, leaving you biting back a laugh at the way he stuttered over his words over the prospect of teaching you, even refusing at first. to your fortunate pleasure however, you convinced him to agree in the end, which is how you ended up at your first session in his house, crammed together on his childhood bed and eyeing the walls of his room littered with spelling bee awards and academic medals from various competitions.
somehow down the line of those little sessions, you and chan grew closer, bonding over your shared love for movies and hidden local diners in your city, and the first time you hung out with him outside of the guise of studying at those very local diners, you found yourselves grinding against each other in the backseat of his beatdown car. you still remember the way he fumbled over himself, red ears burning and big doe eyes blinking up at you as you kissed him, albeit awkward with his lack of expertise but still sweet in the way he held you close to him. you suppose that’s where your little ‘sessions’ turned into a special type of studying, and where this charade began to unfold as your dirty secret.
which brings you back to now.
“need.. need you.” chan huffs, pulling away momentarily from messily locking his lips with yours as you breathe heavily against him. you blink for a moment as if processing his words, and a cheeky smile spreads across your face slowly as you take in his disheveled hair and blown out features. “yeah? what do you need, pretty boy?” you tease, trailing a single finger across his pale skin to trace the outline of his collarbone, feeling him shiver under your touch as a low whine escapes his mouth.
“need to taste you.” he mumbles shyly, and you coo at the way he hangs his head low as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, hooking a finger under his chin to get a look at his slightly teary eyes. when they finally make contact with yours, you can’t help but smile softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips that has your insides positively melting.
sometimes you realise that despite his enthusiasm in engaging with you, chan is just a soft-spoken boy. he’s so untouched and pure that it makes you want to absolutely break him, to taint that perfect image he’s put on and quite literally corrupt him to become your toy. amidst that realisation, it also dawns on you that one day he’ll come to terms with the fact that this isn’t what he deserves, that this isn’t how he should be enjoying his firsts with someone who doesn’t even have the nerve to commit to him and how he’ll move on sooner or later to find somebody better that can give him what he wants without needing to hide it. the mere thought of it always leaves your stomach swirling in bitterness and disgust, but you swallow the lump it creates at the back of your throat because those are feelings you’re yet not ready to confront, and for now, if this is what you can have, then this is what you’ll take.
“and how do you want me?” you ask lowly, taking chan’s hand in yours and placing it on your waist, feeling the way he bunches up the fabric of your cheer outfit in his palm. “tell me.” you murmur. “tell me and i’ll give it all to you.”
“want you to sit my face.” he gasps out, hooded eyes staring at you as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly all your self restraint is snapping in half. before you know it, you’re yanking him by the collar of his brown jacket, smashing your lips together once more and swallowing the squeak of surprise that leaves him. the kiss is desperate, and wet, and sloppy, but neither of you care about it or the fact that anyone could walk in and see you both, far too lost in each other to give much of a damn.
“get on the bench.” you demand once you’ve retracted yourself from him, chan’s wide pupils searching yours to see if you’re serious. when you don’t say anything or move, he’s immediately scrambling for his balance and toppling back onto the wooden structure, drawing a small giggle from you that has his insides tightening and jeans straining.
“wait!” he blurts out as you move to hook your fingers into your skirt, swallowing when you raise an eyebrow at him. “keep it on.” he whispers, and you swear your heart stops beating right then and there. you nod slowly after a while in understanding, because that’s all you fear you can manage without actually jumping his bones in that moment.
“lay on your back.” you quietly instruct, and chan eagerly follows like a puppy taking orders from its owner. he yelps when his snapback falls off his head at the angle he’s at, but you’re quick to catch it, pushing it back onto his curls with a wink as you straddle his face. “keep it on.” you mimic his words from earlier, chuckling at the way his cheeks flush pink at your response because by god, he was far too cute for his own good.
“wait a minute,” chan’s eyes widen when he at last focuses his attention on you and gets a glimpse of your drenched core. “were you.. were you not wearing anything under your skirt?” he questions cautiously, nearly choking when you merely shrug. “i like easy access.” a devious smirk journeys across your face when you answer him, and chan has to bite back a moan at the idea of you parading around commando all day. his imagination doesn’t get the chance to run too wild, because by the time he can even register what’s happening, you’re already lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth, groans leaving the two of you at the fact that you’re both finally, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all day.
“fuck,” chan curses into you, and you hiss at the way his words rumble deep in his chest and travel through your core. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he breathes out once more, swiping through your folds hysterically as your taste invades his senses. you’re everywhere, in his mind, his mouth, even his soul, especially from the way you begin to slowly rock yourself back and forth on his wet muscle. he swears he might die a happy man today when he feels your thighs smothering him on each side, hands moving up to grip the plush of them before he’s sticking his tongue out and letting you ride it.
“how are you so good at this?” you laugh to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip at the way his nose bumps against your clit perfectly each time he lets you move yourself against him. chan merely grunts in response, too engrossed in eating you out to even answer, and when he pulls you down to suck on your swollen bundle of nerves, you swear you see stars. the only thing heard in the isolated locker room you’re currently going at it in by now are the lewd slurps coming from his mouth along with your whimpers, which only get higher in pitch the more he continues to eat at you.
“so damn good.” chan keens. “so fucking wet, and sweet too.” his words only spur you on further, and before you know it, the telltale signs of your orgasm are creeping up on you. chan shows no signs of stopping though, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and pulling you impossibly further down on his mouth to the point you feel like you actually might suffocate him. he doesn’t care, of course, he’d die a happy man to be smothered by your perfect cunt.
“channie, baby, wait.” you cry out softly when he envelops your engorged nub in his mouth and laves his tongue over it repeatedly, moaning obscenely against your pussy. “‘m gonna cum if you do that, wait, wait.” chan in fact does not wait, only speeding up his movements and continuing to lick at you until you’re shaking through the familiar waves of pleasure, a silent scream falling from your lips as you spray warm and wet on his tongue. it drips down his chin and your inner thighs, but neither of you care with you buzzing in overstimulation from the way chan continues to suck at you through the shocks, and him with you cumming on his tongue so pretty.
by the time you’re done, he’s still going at it, and it takes you gripping his hair and weakly standing up from his mouth to get chan to finally stop. when you look down at him from your awkward position, the lower half of his face glistens back at you, his plump lips and pretty features wet with your arousal and juices, prompting you to bite back a moan. you swing your leg over and shakily stand, petting your skirt down to get rid of the creases as chan sits up, still looking like he ascended to another dimensional plane. he’s rock hard in his boxers by now, cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to get you to help him out.
“well,” you clear your throat after a moment of silence. “i should get going.” chan’s heart sinks in his chest at your words, and it must show in his expression too because you can’t seem to meet his eyes with the way your gaze stays locked on your twiddling fingers. “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been, so..” you trail off, trying to find a way to excuse yourself despite your mind screaming at you to do otherwise.
“yeah.” chan curses internally at the way his voice cracks. “yeah, you should go.” the sentence comes out more bitter than he intends it to, but he can’t help it. a part of him wants you to feel guilty for just up and leaving without even delving into what this is, what it could mean and become if you just allowed yourself to let it do so, but he’s come to learn that he just can’t expect that from you at this point. so, he doesn’t, instead choosing to wave bye as you sheepishly make your way outside the locker room to the field. once you’re out of sight, he sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands before flopping back down on the bench, his mind racing with thoughts.
because the simple fact is that chan knows. he knows you’re oh so out of his league, and you would’ve been miles away from his reach either way had it not been for the fact that you stopped him one random thursday afternoon to ask if he could help you out in economics 101. and yet, a part of him still longs for you, longs for your presence and the way you bat your eyelashes at him when he scolds you for getting a question wrong. he longs for the way your perfume wafts in his direction when you pass him in the hallways, ignoring his existence like you both weren’t tangled up in each other’s embrace the night before. even though his heart hurts so painfully, even though his friends all say you’re bad for him, even though he knows himself how bad you are for him, he doesn’t care.
for him, it’s always going to be you.
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
#✰ sunny's oneshots!#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz angst#stray kids angst#bangchan smut#bangchan angst#bangchan x reader#bang chan smut#bang chan x you
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if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—
scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.
gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:
now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.
📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.
he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.
📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.
📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.
📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.
when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.
📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.
📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.
📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.
📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.
📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:
it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.
I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:
I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:
Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.
would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.
+ other things worth talking about:
📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.
📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.
📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.
there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.
+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.
P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿
#aegon ii targaryen#sorry if I sound passive-aggressive guys (I totally am)#I am just so fed up with barbecue jokes and people mocking Aegon’s suffering for no fcking reason#I log on to this hellsite and 90% of the fandom is suddenly like that#so I had to make this post simply for myself (and maybe for 3 other people lol)#to think that people made excuses for Luke who MAIMED Aemond for life and then dared to laugh in his face#but when it comes to Aegon everyone is nitpicking his every move without ever trying to take his feelings into consideration#aegond#aemond targaryen#hotd critical#hotd S2#hotd spoilers#house of the dragon#aegon the second#laura rambles#the greens
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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"
Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this
Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.
Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader
Word count: 2k
You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.
The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.
That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'
But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.
He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.
"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.
"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"
"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.
"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”
Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.
“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.
The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...
“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.
Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”
“Because I want to see Kika.”
“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.
You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”
As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.
“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”
As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Is it something I said?"
Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."
"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."
Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.
"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"
Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."
Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.
"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.
Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."
"What do you mean? Are we not together?"
"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"
Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.
You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."
Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."
"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."
Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."
"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."
"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."
After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.
"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.
"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.
"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."
"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?
"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.
You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"
Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"
Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.
"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.
"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"
Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."
He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1#formula 1
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Logan who is about 200 years old??? That much time of experimenting around other women? Of course he knows how to please you. Unlike those twenty year old boys who don't understand sex. The ones he's trying to convince you to go for instead of him.
But you follow him around like a lost puppy. You, just twenty, so innocent...How can you not see? How can you not understand that you deserve so much better?
And then one day, he's finally had enough. He's sick of wanting you and not being able to have you. He's sick of it.
So he goes to your room in the X-mansion with every intention of telling you it's never going to happen and that you should give up.
Instead, he finds you half-naked, getting dressed, wearing just your panties, hair soaked and falling over your shoulders.
Almost reflexively, he steps into your room and shuts the door after himself so no one else sees you like this. No one else deserves to see you so beautiful.
"Logan!" you gasp as he bursts in, somewhere between shocked, embarrassed and annoyed.
And fuck, he should turn around and walk away, but how? You look so pretty, your panties have a little bow on them and he's suddenly seeing red.
Next thing he knows, he's kissing you, his large hands on your waist. He kisses you with hunger, need, an insatiable lust.
You gladly give in, kissing him back, your arms wrapping around his neck.
Your skin is warm and soft, and he picks you up and tosses you onto your bed.
“The things you do to me, kid,” he grumbles and quickly moves to lay between your legs, moving so his mouth is level with those gorgeous, gorgeous panties.
The sweet scent of your arousal invades his senses and he groans, eyes darkening with lust. He kisses your lower stomach, mouth lazily moving down to the edge of the panties and he bites the soft lace. He tugs it down with his teeth, his cock twitching in his pants.
You shudder slightly, goosebumps rise on your skin, and he loses it. He likes the panties but he's sure he can get you another. He tears them apart and tugs the broken lace off, relishing in the little gasp you let out.
He chuckles lowly. “You okay up there?” he teases, his dark eyes meeting yours.
You nod. “Just surprised me a little, is all,” you reply.
He hums and leans down, rubbing his nose against the soft mound of hair there before he grabs your thighs and lifts them. He nudges them wide open and places them on his shoulders.
His eyes take in the sight of your cunt, starting to glisten with arousal. You look beautiful from here, vulnerable and eager for him.
He leans in, his fingers spreading your folds open and allowing his tongue to tease against your entrance.
You whine, he groans, and he devours. His entire mouth covers your pussy, his tongue sliding up and down, tasting your sweet slick while he nuzzles his nose against your clit.
Your legs shake, hips buck, and he laughs.
You poor, poor thing. He's betting no bastard has ever done this for you, at least not the right way, and he loves knowing he's the only one that's made you feel this good.
He squeezes your thighs, feeling the soft flesh, his hands moving up to your ass. He'd love to fuck you from behind just to watch your ass jiggle with every thrust, but there'll be time for that later.
He eats your pussy, feeling your slick dripping down his chin, onto the bed. He pushes his tongue into you and moans at your taste, his cock half-hard and already needing release.
He grinds himself against the bed as he eats you out, groaning, drinking up your juices.
Your hands tangle in his hair and you grind your hips against his face. And he keeps going and going until he can feel you shaking.
The first time you come, he smirks, eagerly lapping up your release. And then he makes you come again and again until you're pushing him away so he stops.
He laughs, kissing your swollen cunt before moving up, his body hovering over yours.
He kisses your lips, a little gentle this time. He reaches a hand down and unbuckles his belt, holding your gaze, waiting for you to tell him no.
But you don't. Instead, you help him, hands undoing the button and unzipping his pants, and he grunts. He pulls his jeans down enough for his cock to spring free.
Your hand gently grabs his length, jerking him a couple of times. He shudders, gasping. So many nights, he's imagined your hand on his cock, how it would feel, how you would look. And the feeling is so much better.
You lead his tip to your entrance, pussy wet and ready. You glance up at him and he meets your gaze, trying to hold himself back.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks. “We can go back, sweetheart. We can stop if you wanna.”
“I don't wanna stop,” you say quietly. “I want this,” you assure, nodding.
He studies your gaze and upon deciding you're being honest, he nods. “Alright. But if you want to stop at any moment, you tell me, understood?”
You nod but he grabs your face in one of his hands. “Repeat it,” he orders.
“If I wanna stop, I'll let you know,” you say quietly, breathlessly.
He nods, satisfied, and as slowly as he can, slides his cock into you. He groans at your wet, warm gummy walls as they wrap around him.
You squeal softly, a shudder passing your body as he sinks deeper, stretching you open. Your hands fall on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin.
“You're so pretty, sweetheart,” he says, glancing down once he's fully in you, his hips flush against yours. He grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, giving him more space as he starts thrusting into you.
He groans, holding you tightly as he fucks you hard and deep.
You squeal, whining weakly every time his cock hits your cervix.
He watches himself slip in and out of you, coated in your slick, your cunt stretching to accommodate him.
“Look at you, baby,” he says in awe. “Such a pretty pussy, so good, so tight. Fuck.”
With each thrust he delivers, the bed jolts and the headboard bangs against the wall. You moan broken words, the wind knocked from your lungs as you take his cock.
“Ohh, baby. Baby,” he groans, watching you. “Good fuckin' girl.”
He grabs your legs and pushes them up to your chest, folding you as he fucks you harder. The sound of your soaked cunt fills his ears, the scent of your sex thick in the atmosphere.
“Yeah, fuck, fuck.” He grunts, one of his enormous hands spanking your ass. “Baby...So fuckin' pretty, aren't you? Look at that pretty cunt taking me so well.”
You squeal, cunt clenching around him tightly, and he knows what you need. One of his hands slips between your thighs to pinch and rub your clit.
“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby? Hm? You gonna come on my cock, make it all nice and wet, yeah?” he asks, spanking your ass again.
You nod, trembling. “Mhm! Yes! Yes! Fuck!” you cry out, gasping for breath.
Your orgasm hits you with so much force that you freeze for a second, stuck in a moment of ecstasy. And then you tumble over, shaking and whimpering as your release hits you in waves.
Logan groans, sure he's never seen anyone as beautiful as you when you come. He thrusts into you a few more times and feels his cock twitch.
He quickly pulls out of you, sets your legs down and jerks himself a little before he comes on your stomach, white, sticky release spilling onto your skin. You gasp softly and shudder, and he grunts, taking deep breaths.
“Goddamn,” he gasps and lies down next to you, his cock softening.
You glance at him, lying on your side to face him. “I thought I was too young for you?” You grin.
He shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. And I'm really glad I did, baby.”
---
Hehe this man's got me going crazy plsss I'm down so bad 😫😫😫
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Top flag by the talented @cafekitsune
#logan howlett#wolverine#logan wolverine#x fem!reader#logan smut#wolverine smut#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x fem!reader
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Waste a Moment / Part 1
Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.
Requested by : @remoony
Word count : 2.8k
Note : This is the first of 17 parts which I will post every two days. I love writing stories that have a ticking time bomb-like conflict. The title is inspired by a Kings of Leon song of the same title along with Find Me, and Reverend. This was based on a request, but I might have taken a lot of creative liberties in expanding it. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!
Series Masterlist
“Static on Her Brain”
Bucky had grown used to the sound of your laughter. It was bright, it made his heart do acrobatic flips. It was a reminder of everything he thought he'd lost touch with.
Sometimes, it even cut through the icy walls he’d built around himself. He didn't feel like he deserved that kind of comfort, especially not from someone as stubbornly kind as you. But there you were, determined to breathe warmth back into his life, no matter how hard he tried to shut it out.
You kept trying, year after year. You weren't shy about it, nor did you hide your blatant crush on the former Winter Soldier— casual but respectful touches on his arm, bold compliments, always with that soft, teasing smile that lit up your face whenever you were near him.
But even as he kept you at an arm's length, Bucky had always watched over you. It was a subtle habit, one he barely allowed himself to notice. The moment you stepped into his periphery, he'd been quietly paying attention to you.
Maybe it was the way your laugh carried sweetness through a room, or the way you always seemed to understand people as if they were easy read novels.
Though he'd never admit it, he'd found himself intrigued.
In the beginning, he told himself he was just being cautious— he was just keeping an eye on the new recruit.
But that was a lie.
He noticed you in ways he knew he shouldn’t. He picked up on the small things about you—the way you’d bite the inside of your cheek when deep in thought, the faint scent of your perfume, the different strategies you used when you tried so hard to pull him into conversations he said he didn’t want to have.
He'd watch you in the training room, noticing the way your eyes would always find him. He’d catch those glances, and his heart would flutter at the shy but determined looks you’d throw his way.
He told himself that he didn’t deserve the things you were offering, that he didn’t need them.
That he didn’t need you.
But deep down, he wanted you. He’d wanted you from the start. And yet, he kept pushing you away, convinced it was better for both of you if he stayed in his lonely corner, watching from afar.
He kept his distance, pretending not to care. Pretending that your kindness didn’t chip away at his icy demeanour. Pretending he wasn’t moved every time you found some new way to show him he mattered.
So he watched. He made sure you were safe during missions. He made sure you weren’t training too hard. He made sure there was always one of your favourite donuts left after a long day. He made sure to always buy your favourite tea to stock up the kitchen in the compound.
And you never noticed.
Three years ago.
"Barnes, you should join us for drinks," you said. You stood with your hands on your hips, leaning on the locker room door. You were a new recruit, and this was your welcome party.
Everyone was invited, including him. Not that he wanted to be.
"No use hiding away when you’ve got a world to see,” you teased.
Bucky gave you a tight smile, just enough to be polite, and shake his head. "Not tonight."
It became a routine: you'd offer your kindness, your companionship, and he'd shut it down.
Politely, at first, but eventually his defences had to become sharper, colder.
You didn’t stop, though. Every morning, there you were. Every mission briefing, every late-night sparring session, you found a way to check in on him. Always so effortlessly sweet, always making sure he wasn't alone.
It did not work. Of course not. He had convinced himself that he was beyond saving.
A year ago.
"Why do you want me to join in on everything so bad?” He had whispered one day.
"Because you shouldn’t be alone, Bucky. I care about you,” you insisted, touching the back of his arm gently, “we all do.”
His heart ached hearing that— someone as sweet as you even thought about him.
He didn't deserve your care, not after everything he'd done, after the destruction he'd caused. And yet, there you were—a constant reminder of everything good he'd lost, everything he'd convinced himself he could never have.
He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t let you waste all that good on someone so irredeemable. Not on him.
So, he pushed harder. Harsher.
Monday.
You had sought him out with an offer for another friendly outing— a dinner offer at the new sushi restaurant down the street— when he finally snapped.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he hissed. “I don’t want your company. I don’t need your pity. You think you’re being nice?”
You stared at him, eyes wide, lips parting as if you had been struck by lightning.
He had always been distant. But he had never been hurtful.
“I feel like I can't breathe around you.”
Bucky knew he’d gone too far the moment the words left his mouth.
The hurt in your eyes was instant. Your smile—the one that was always so readily offered—faltered before it disappeared entirely.
He wanted to take it back, but his fear, his pride stopped him from doing so.
You just swallowed and nodded, convincing yourself that his words didn’t hurt as much as it had. With a quiet goodbye, you turned and walked away.
He didn’t mean to hurt you.
He never did. But the closer you got to reaching him, the more terrified he was of what you could see in him.
You’d always been so persistent, but tonight had been different. He finally shattered something that may never mend.
The regret ate away at his brain for hours.
Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow, I’ll find you, and I’ll make it right.
Tomorrow, he’d explain it all. He’d tell you about the fear that haunted him. He’d tell you how desperately he wanted you to be there, even though he’d spent years trying to push you away. Tomorrow, he’d make sure you knew that he cared— and had cared for so long, longer than he would ever care to admit. Tomorrow, he would admit that he’d been a fool to ever think you were better off without him.
Tuesday.
But tomorrow never came.
Bucky didn’t even realise you had a mission until Scott Lang mentioned it to him in passing over morning training.
It was unusual. Before a mission, you’d go around town, telling everyone you’d be gone. Even when you couldn’t reach him, during the days he would lock himself in apartment, you’d sent you a quick text message:
I have recon tomorrow. Will be back in a few days. In case you notice no one’s bothering you anymore :)
But not this time. Not after what he said to you.
That afternoon, while Bucky was making dinner, he got a call from Sam.
His body froze, his world shattered when Sam said that it was about you.
“We lost contact,” he said grimly.
Before Sam could finish, Bucky was already grabbing his gear to prepare for the rescue mission first thing tomorrow. There was a growing fear in his chest too overwhelming to ignore.
He couldn’t shake the image of your face after their last conversation—how you had looked at him, how hurt you’d been.
If something happened to you…
Wednesday morning.
The rescue mission was all chaos. Fire and rubble littered the landscape of what had once been a secure enemy base. Bucky moved through the debris like a man possessed, heart pounding in his chest with every second that passed without finding you.
Smoke burned his lungs with every breath as the acrid scent of scorched metal and chemicals filled the air. His pulse roared in his ears as he called your name again, his voice growing hoarse, his steps becoming frantic. The longer it took to find you, the more the knot in his chest tightened.
He called your name again, wailing like a lost ghoul wandering in the underworld.
Then, he saw it—a flash of your suit buried beneath concrete and metal, motionless.
His voice cracked as cried your name again, running towards the wreckage.
You had been squeezed in between the floor and half of the roof, a wedge of concrete was the only thing keeping you from being completely crushed.
Tears pricked by the edges of his eyes. He mustered all his strength and managed to lift up the entire roof— a display of strength he had never been able to achieve before.
His heart dropped when he saw your form beneath it all, your face pale, your breathing shallow—barely there at all.
"Stay with me," he muttered, lifting you carefully from the wreckage, cradling your body in his arms. He was shaking, studying your face for any signs of life he could find.
His fingers brushed across your cheeks, trembling. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the fear was too overwhelming. His voice was barely a whisper, “Please...”
Wednesday night.
The medics worked on you for hours, but you didn’t wake. Not after they stabilised your vitals, not after they brought you back to the compound.
Bucky sat by your bedside, his hand gripping yours so tightly his knuckles were white.
This was his fault. He knew that.
You had always been there for him, and when you needed him most, he had turned his back on you. He had broken you in a way he never thought possible.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered that night, voice breaking, his thumb brushing across the back of your cold hand. “You deserve so much better than this. I just... I just didn’t know how to handle it. I pushed you away because... because I was afraid. But I care about you. I care about you so much.”
His tears fell, landing softly on the blanket that covered you.
“I swear I’ll make it right. I’ll tell you everything I was scared to. Just please, wake up."
Thursday.
The next day was eerily similar, but this time, Bucky had a little more resolve. He leaned closer, his heart racing.
He still sat by your bedside, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. His hands, calloused from years of battle, trembled as they held yours, gripping tightly as if letting go would mean losing you.
“I can’t help but think about how you light up every room you walk in. You always found a way to pull me out, even if I didn't show it.”
He couldn't stop the way his foot tapped against the floor, an anxious rhythm that accompanied the erratic beating of his heart. Every breath he took felt shallow, laboured, as if the room were closing in on him. His throat burned, but he refused to break, not yet. Not while you were still here, though silent and unreachable.
He wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. “I miss you so much. I can’t do this without you.”
He let the silence wrap around him, hoping that somehow his words would reach you, wherever you were.
Friday.
When the medics told him there had been no change, Bucky’s fingers dug into the armrest of the chair. The leather creaked under his grip. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, but he couldn't loosen it.
As the hours passed, he found himself reminiscing, a small smile breaking through the heaviness. “Do you remember the time we went on the Latveria mission together? I thought I was going to be a distraction. You laughed and said I could never be. You told me I was your favourite partner. I should’ve known then that I meant something to you.”
He stood abruptly, pacing the small room, each step heavier than the last. His breaths came quicker, each exhale shaking as he rubbed a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep the panic at bay.
His voice cracked, regret bubbling just beneath the surface. “And I took you for granted.”
Saturday.
As the days wore on, his exhaustion became impossible to ignore. His limbs felt heavy, weighed down by sleepless nights and wrecked by the storm raging inside him. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his hands threading through his hair, tugging slightly as if the pain might soothe him. “I talked to Sam today. He says they’re doing everything they can.
He rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and fear blending into one. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.”
His chest tightened, a dull ache echoing from his ribcage as he stared at your motionless form, willing you to stir, to give him a sign that this nightmare would end.
“I’m waiting for you to wake up and tell me I’m being an idiot, that I need to stop worrying. I need you to tell me everything is going to be okay. Please, just be okay.”
But there was only the sound of the machines.
Sunday morning.
Bucky found himself hunched over the side of your bed, his head resting against the cool metal of the railing. His body hurt from staying in the same position for so long, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t move, couldn’t pull himself away from you. His metal hand tightened around yours, the cold vibranium contrasting with the warmth of your skin, though that warmth was fading. A shudder passed through him, his breath catching in his throat as he whispered your name again, desperate. His grip loosened, trembling, as though he feared he might break you, and yet, he couldn’t let go.
When he finally whispered those words— "I love you" —it felt like a weight had been lifted and dropped all at once.
His chest heaved with the force of it— the confession had cost him every ounce of strength he had left. His hand shook as he brushed a stray hair from your forehead, the contact both comforting and unbearable. His fingers lingered there, trembling slightly, as he traced the curve of your face, memorising every detail, every contour, as if were trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away.
“Come back.”
Sunday night.
Bucky sat at your bedside as he always did, his fingers brushing across your hand, the silence in the room deafening. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the side of your bed, fighting the exhaustion pulling at him.
That’s when he felt it.
A small, almost imperceptible twitch of your fingers.
His heart skipped, and he shot upright, searching your face, desperate for another sign of life.
He whispered your name, as if to coax you out of the depths you had drowned in.
Then your eyes fluttered open. Slowly, groggily, emerging from the deepest of slumbers. He sat there, frozen, his heart hammering in his chest from relief.
But when you blinked and your gaze settled on him, something was wrong.
Your expression wasn’t one of recognition. There was no relief, no joy—only confusion.
Your brows furrowed, and then, panic.
"Bucky?" you whispered, your voice raspy from disuse.
His heart soared at the sound of your voice, but before he could respond, you pulled your hand away from him.
"Bucky Barnes,” you repeated, the tremble in your voice unmistakable. "The Winter Soldier. You—you’re a hero."
His blood ran cold.
He said your name, his voice shaking, trying to understand.
But you weren’t listening. The look in your eyes wasn’t one of a friend who knew him, who had fought alongside him.
It was the look of someone staring at a stranger.
Bucky felt the room spin around him, his stomach dropping.
You stared at him, wide-eyed, as your gaze darted around the white, sterile room in the medbay. "What... What happened to me?" you asked, your voice trembling, fear bleeding into your words.
But before he could answer, your eyes narrowed, and you whispered the last thing he ever wanted to hear. "Why are you here?" you asked.
His heart was hammering, pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. He searched your eyes for some sign, any flicker of recognition. But there was nothing. His grip loosened, a tremor running through him as he stammered, “You—you really don’t remember?”
You shook your head no.
“I’m your friend,” he said gently, hoping it would jog your memory.
You tilted your head, then chuckled in disbelief— a sweet sound that he had missed so dearly. “Why would a superhero be friends with a museum curator?”
You hadn’t worked in the museum for four years.
Four years.
You didn’t remember the last four years of your life.
-to be continued…
Taglist: @hzdhrtss @irisk12
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x f!reader#Sebastian stan#Sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes angst#Bucky barnes x reader angst#bucky barnes x reader fluff
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i imagine Giyuu to be extremely touch-starved. now imagine him suddenly gaining interest in another person.
it's not his fault, really, he just didn't have the time to form proper bonds with other people. he couldn't live with normal people, they wouldn't understand. he couldn't talk with the other hashira, he wasn't worthy and yet he still had to stand next to them.
then he met you, perhaps he had seen you on a former mission, but decided to ignore you. you weren't like the other hashira, you didn't think you deserved their rank.
"i wouldn't have survived without the other demon slayers. they had my back", he heard you say to Mitsuri once. you were modest and didn't boast. over time he found his gaze lingering on you whenever a meeting took place. perhaps he had imagined it, but when he found you sitting next to him, he could only think of the first meeting you attended. you had been on the other side of the room far away from him, now you were close.
when did you start greeting him? he couldn't remember, but he started answering. he found himself appreciating your small conversations with him. suddenly it felt normal to sit next to you during your meetings.
and even today he would silently sit next to you, glancing at you ever so often. however, when the meeting ended, something unusual happened. your fingers brushed against his and his eyes widened just a bit. he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours.
"apologies, Tomioka. i should really watch what i'm doing." you chuckled, soon leaving the meeting like everyone else. he watched you go, his hand still tingling from your soft touch. your voice was still ringing in his ears.
he found himself back in his estate, clenching his fingers. his hands were rough from years of fighting. yours were softer, there was a clear difference. his body had felt hotter since you've touched him accidentally.
he imagined your hand in his, would you enjoy it as much as him? he hoped so, the urge to touch your skin had suddenly grown so strong.
no, that wasn't it, it was something else. and when he imagined your delicate hands trailing down his uniform, he knew why his body suddenly felt so hot.
the once quiet room now was filled with quiet pants and shaky breaths. his uniform was thrown on the other side of his bed, completely forgotten. he couldn't think of such unimportant things, not when he was focused on squeezing his cock just right.
he sat on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking up and down, occasionally rubbing his hand over the tip and letting out a grunt. he had tried keeping his thoughts together, he really did, but they would always come back to you.
he didn't want it to turn out this lewd, but it somehow made him feel better when he thought of you being here with him. would you stroke him slowly, trying to coax sweet moans out of him? would you be rough, giggling at his sudden groans? the thought made his head spin, his hand squeezing his cock a bit tighter.
he could never tell you, never risk ruining your current relationship, but he wanted to feel your pretty hand wrapped around his cock so bad. it wasn't hard to imagine it, not when you were so beautiful and so nice.
he could see it right in front of him, your tender hands would be wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it up and down. your lips would be curled up in a smile, watching him fuck your fist, bucking his hips up. he would try to stay composed, but both of you knew he wanted it.
he felt himself grow closer, much earlier than he would like to admit, his strokes speeding up, getting rougher. he wondered if you would let him cum immediately or if you would tell him to wait just a bit, only to tease him. "Giyuu, i want you to cum.. can you do that for me..?" you would coo, earning an eager nod and a few gasps from him.
he grunted, his eyes snapping open when he felt his cock twitch in his hand. he felt his muscles tense, his seed shooting out in ropes. he lightly bucked into his hand - it was the one you touched earlier. he quietly grunted, getting up to clean the mess and yet the lingering thought of you remained in his mind.
he would've prefered the sight much more on your hand.
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I don’t know if you’re still taking obx requests (if you’re not feel free to ignore this) but maybe you could write about JJ dating the girliest girl on the island and all the pouges are like HER? And he’s so proud like yeah that’s my girl
𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.
this request was too cute not to do! i don’t know if this is the direction you were looking for but i think it came out adorable! i hope you like it <3
pairing(s): jj maybank x fem!reader
summary: in which jj bags the girliest girl on the island— but what can he say? opposites attract.
The minute JJ saw you , he knew he had to have you. You made his eyes glimmer the moment they laid upon you— with half of your hair pulled back in a pretty pink claw clip , a pretty white sundress on as you laughed sweetly with your friends , nails done and makeup complimenting your features so well.
You were quite literally , breathtaking , in his eyes and although you weren’t the usual low maintenance , tom–boyish type of girl he was used to , it had only made him more attracted to you.
At first he didn’t know how to approach you. He never had problems in the girl department before. Being so confident and charismatic , talking a girl up was a slice of cake to him. But when it came to you , you just seemed so nice and warm. He was afraid that he wouldn’t meet your standards , that maybe you deserved someone better than him. The difference in aesthetics were clear— him with his years old shorts and plain tee while you sported that white sundress that was so elegantly simple.
He sipped on his beer slowly watching you from across the Boneyard , trying to get a good feel of your personality. From what he could see , you seemed nice. You talked to almost everyone and seemed genuinely interested in each convention. He knew you weren’t a Pogue but you didn’t give Kook vibes either. JJ was just about to give it all up and walk away , until Pope walked over to you and gave you a hug– which you had excitedly returned.
JJ watched the two of you converse for a bit wondering if he should wait and ask Pope about you or just go up mid–conversation and introduce himself. . . The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to interrupt though , because by the time he got his thoughts together Pope was already walking towards him.
“What’re you staring at me for?” Pope shoved his shoulder playfully , filling up his cup at the keg JJ was standing next to.
JJ snorted. “You wish I was staring at you. I was looking at her— who is that?” He nodded in your direction.
“That’s Y/N and she’s not your type.” Pope snorted , rolling his eyes at the glint JJ’s face held– he knew that face all too well.
JJ huffed. “And why not? She’s a pretty girl. I like those.”
“Pretty and girly , JJ. She’s emotional and likes all that romantic bullshit you hate. You’d hate it.” Pope pointed out , reminding JJ of the millions of girlfriends he had but soon discarded because he couldn’t keep an emotional connection to save his life. Let alone know how to romance a girl.
JJ gave Pope and offended expression , scoffing. “I can be romantic , Pope.”
“One time you gave a girl a bag of dirt for Valentines Day.” Pope deadpanned.
“Bitch , I was literally ten!” JJ defended. “And it’s the thought that counts. I picked out all the bugs.”
Pope stared at JJ for a second , giving him a knowing look making JJ sigh deeply. “Whatever! I don’t care what you say. I’m in love!” JJ oogled in your direction , a hand over his heart.
Pope patted JJ on the back and shook his head. “I’m sure you are , buddy. I’m sure you are.”
With that Pope walked away to find his other friends , leaving JJ to huff on his own.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” JJ muttered , finishing off his drink. Sure he acknowledged you weren’t his ‘usual’ type— but hey! How’s that saying go? Opposites attract!
Downing the rest of his drink , JJ shook his body to release his nerves. You were finally alone , sitting next to the fire while your friends played beer pong a few feet away from you. Taking this as his time to shine , he strolled over to you with sweaty palms. He felt like a teenage boy having his first crush all over again! All sweaty and nervous. He really did think you were the prettiest girl ever , and he had to talk to you.
“Uh– want some company?” JJ asked lowly , hoping you’d still be able to hear him. He didn’t want to scare you or seem to pushy , so he made sure not to tower over you and keep a good distance away.
Your eyes looked away from the fire and up at him , your cheeks burning red. He was cute. A messy head of blonde hair with small dimples barely noticeable when he smiled. You could feel his nervousness and it made you giggle a bit , excitement in your tummy swirling at the thought of such a cute boy wanting to talk to you. “Sure.” You accepted , moving over for him to sit next to you.
“I—um. . . I like your dress.” JJ said as he sat down , cringing at how awkward he sounded.
You grinned at his compliment. “Thank you. I like your shirt.” You returned the compliment , although the shirt wasn’t to interesting , the person wearing it made it look good.
“Nah this thing’s old.” JJ brushed off.
“Well I don’t know how old this thing is but I bought it at a thrift shop not too long ago.” You shrugged , bumping his shoulder. “I’m Y/N.”
Feeling more comfortable with making conversation , JJ looked at you smiling. “JJ.”
“You’re Pope’s friend!” You remembered Pope bringing up someone named JJ before in distant conversations. Though he was always ranting about the boy , seeming exasperated every time.
“The one and only.” JJ said proudly. “So that means he talks about me— how sweet.” He cooed.
You chuckled. “Only about how you never stop forcing him to leave work early.”
“What kind’ve friend would I be if I just let him work his little self out like that!” JJ defended.
“Point proven.” You nodded , laughing with him. He seemed easy to talk to , even with just a few exchanges of words to eachother. His aura seemed sweet , something that you noticed. “So Pope wasn’t there to keep you company?” You teased.
JJ cheeks blushed slightly , scratching the back of his neck. “No actually , I–uh , I saw you earlier and I think you’re like really pretty and I really wanted to talk to you.” He admitted , hoping to see if you’d be interested in— well anything.
It was your turn to blush. A sweet smile on your face as you tucked a piece of hair away from your face. “You think so?”
“The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He vowed with one hand up in the air. “Scout’s honor.” JJ added.
“Well I think you’re really pretty , too.” You grinned , copying his actions. “Scout’s honor.”
The rest of the night flowed easily between you two. The two of you talked about anything and everything getting to know eachother , seeing what you had in common and what you didn’t. You weren’t much of an outdoorsy person , and loved everything bright and cheerful. JJ seemed to be quite the opposite but he was interested in what you liked , and you seemed to have an open mind about the things he did , as well.
The night ended and your friends called you over telling you it was time to leave , but you put your number in JJ’s phone telling him to call you.
And you didn’t get too far before he dialed that number right up , making sure he had it before you left.
Things had ended up well betwen you and JJ. He had taken you out on dates. Some being what he wanted to do , some of you forcing him to go thrift shopping with you and give him a fashion show. He had researched every romantic comedy , every romance novel to give you the most that you deserved because he started to really like you.
He loved everything about you , how girly you were , how your nails were always done and your hair always fixed. You had such passion for so many things and it shined through you , and it showed inside and out.
JJ fell for you quickly , asking you to be his girlfriend on the seventh date. He planned everything all by himself. A beach picnic at night with pretty little candles and lights. ( All things he had thrifted , knowing it’d make your heart happy. )
He’d never forget how pretty you looked that night in your skirt , big eyes watching him in admiration as he asked you to be his girlfriend , getting all emotional and crying when he did.
But now that things were really serious , he wanted to introduce you to the Pogue’s— which he was excited about , but you were so nervous.
“Baby they’re gonna love you.” JJ promised as the two of you walked to the front door. “I told them they’re gonna love you and they have to listen to me and do what I say regardless.”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. “It doesn’t work like that , JJ.”
“Well it does in my world.” He told you , wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you close to him. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so they’ll love you because I do.”
Your heart melted and you always fell to your knees. “I love you , too.”
JJ kissed you one more time before opening the door. You could hear the chaos as soon as it opened , laughter and commotion. Your stomach was in knots as you walked in , wondering what his friends would think. You had seen Pope a couple times since being with JJ , but you hadn’t said anything out of respect for your boyfriend because you knew he wanted to be the one to tell them.
“Hey guys!” JJ said loud enough for them to look at him , their eyes immediately looking at you then back at him then the arm around your waist.
Kiara smirked , knowing that JJ always did have that soft spot he claimed never to have. Pope looked like a deer in headlights and John B was just confused.
“I want you to meet my girlfriend.” He put emphasis on girlfriend. “Who is extremely hot and girly and also extremely my type.” JJ said , looking at Pope.
You nudged JJ’s shoulder and smiled at them. “I’m Y/N.”
“No fucking way.” Pope said , obviously shocked.
“Aw! My little JJ is all grown up.” Kiara pretended to wipe a tear away. “You’re so cute— I’m Kiara.” She pushed past the two boys and tugged at your arm. “I’m excited to have another girl around , do you smoke? Let’s smoke a joint outside.”
JJ pulled you away from her. “Um , no. She doesn’t and her first time ain’t being with you!”
Kiara scoffed and pulled you back , standing in front of you protectively. “If she wants to she will.” She glared before turning back to you and pulling you towards the back yard. “You totally don’t have to.” She whispered in your ear making you laugh.
JJ smiled as he watched his bestfriend take to you and bring you outside. He was excited to have you around more and bring into his life in this way , the Pogue’s were a part of his world that he wanted you a part of.
“I gotta say JJ , I wasn’t expecting that.” John B clapped him on the shoulder.
“No kidding!” Pope scoffed. “I didn’t think he’d get past the first conversation.”
JJ crossed his arms and smirked , shrugging nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract.”
#jj obx#jj maybank imagine#jjpope#jj maybank x you#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank blurb#jj mayback imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank fanfiction#jj x reader#maybank#outer banks imagines#outer banks requests#outer banks blurb#jj outer banks#obx imagine#obx jj x reader#obx jj#obx jj maybank#outer banks#outer banks headcanons#outer banks imagine
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Your Teddy ~ Theodore Nott x f!reader (PART 2)
Requested: No
Pairing: Theodore Nott x f!reader
Summary: Theo helps y/n get the pieces of her former life together.
Word count: 2.5K
Warnings: Lots of talking, mentions of drinking, English is not my first language
A/N: The next part should be the last one. Let me know if you want to be tagged! Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! GIF is not mine.
Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist
Tag list for this story: @cyriellee42 @littlepippilongstocking @lovetaylorrussellgrr @sequoiavink @cloudyyydayzzz @lovefushi @esmerai-artemis @atadoddinnit
PART ONE
Sitting on his dorm’s hard floor, his back against the door, Theo grabbed the bottle again and brought it to his mouth. He felt the burning liquid going down his throat, and while it actually did hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain he had been feeling since he learned a few hours ago that y/n didn’t remember anything - didn’t remember him.
“I, um...I’m sorry, but... who are you?”
She doesn’t remember. The thought was like a thousand knives in his heart. She didn’t remember all the dates they went on, how much they laughed and talked during them, all their time spent just the two of them, just enjoying being together, their first kiss and those that followed, the first time Theo told her he loved her, the first time she told him she loved him, all their cuddles and nights spent embracing each other or spent loving each other, all their hugs, all the time they comforted each other - how she comforted him after his mother passed away and, every year, on her death anniversary. How much they loved each other - how much she loved him. That was the worst part. He could tell y/n about the moments they spent together, where and how their first kiss was. He could also show her how much he loved her and why they dated in the first place, but what if she couldn’t fall in love with him again? What if she wanted nothing to do with him?
His stomach twisted at the thought, and he drank again. One part of him refused to think that y/n, having a big heart full of patience and understanding, wouldn’t at least give him a chance, but the other part of him, the one who always told him how she deserved better than him, told him otherwise. Theo had felt alone when his mother died, but the feeling had faded away when he and y/n started dating. It came back with y/n’s disappearance, and was worse than ever. No one had ever loved him besides his mother and y/n, and now he had lost both. Of course he had friends, and he deeply cared about them, but it wasn’t the same. They only knew the happy, sarcastic, careless Theo, not the true version of Theo who felt things deeply, was really insecure and kept wondering why his father didn’t seem to care about him at all. He felt tears suddenly running down his cheeks, but didn’t care.
All of a sudden, Theo heard a knock on the door. He closed his eyes - which he would have probably rolled if he had enough energy and less alcohol in his body - in annoyance and was about to pretend not to be here when he heard a familiar voice.
“Theo, open the door.”
Mattheo knocked again after speaking. Sighing, Theo grabbed the bottle and managed to get up, finding himself feeling incredibly dizzy when he opened the door. Mattheo came in, and Theo went to sit on his bed. Mattheo closed the door behind him, and raised an eyebrow.
“Merlin, it’s even worse than I thought.”
Theo, who now had a terrible headache, looked at him. “What?”
“Your ass is drunk. Like you had been for the past three months.”
“So what?” Theo snapped coldly.
He could find in him to tolerate his best friend coming to check up on him and comforting him, but not a lecture. They both had shitty fathers - and a crazy ass woman as a mother for Mattheo -, and had bonded over it, but Mattheo hadn’t always been single, and therefore couldn’t truly understand how Theo felt, as much as he tried.
“I suggest you quit drinking, get a shower, eat something and clean up this room, because a little bird named Pansy told me y/n is leaving the hospital wing tomorrow. Do you want her to see you like that?”
Theo ran a hand through his face, frowning. “What?”
“Mrs Pomfrey was able to heal all y/n’s injuries,” Mattheo said, and then his gaze softened. “Except for her memory loss.”
Theo looked at the ground, and Mattheo slowly came to sit beside him on the bed.
“I’m sorry, mate. I mean it.”
Theo couldn’t say anything as he left that if he did, he would cry, and there was a short moment of silence before Mattheo spoke again.
“You know, y/n only came back today. They still can find a remedy. Pansy said they’ll look in other books.”
“Did she find out why?” Theo asked in a hoarse voice.
“No. It might be from trauma, a potion or a spell. They’ll probably do other tests.”
“Did they come?” Theo asked. “Her parents, I mean?”
“Yes. They were…upset, of course. Pansy was here when they saw y/n. They asked her to come home for at least a few days, but she refused.”
The thought was y/n wasn’t alone while meeting people who were now basically strangers made him feel better, but it was at this moment that Theo realised how selfish he had been. He had lost his girlfriend, the girl he imagined spending the rest of his days with, but y/n had lost everything. Everything she had known and was used to - from family and friends to her childhood home and the school - were now foreign to her. And instead of being there for her, he was fucking drinking.
“She’ll need you,” Mattheo continued. “You were a big part of her life.”
“I want to help her,” Theo answered. “But…What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”
Mattheo had a half-smile, “No chance, mate. She asked Pansy about you.”
Theo’s heart almost skipped a beat, and he turned to his friend. “Really?”
Mattheo nodded, “Yeah. I don’t know the details, but she did ask questions, and apparently she felt guilty when she saw you leaving. So, as I suggested earlier, we’re gonna clean up this room, and while you take a shower, I’ll go get us something to eat. Alright?”
Feeling a bit better - but still ashamed - Theo nodded, and Mattheo gently pushed his shoulder.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The next morning, Theo woke up with one of the worst hangovers he ever had. He had a terrible headache, and any light hurt his eyes, but he wasn’t as tired as he thought he would be, probably because he had a dreamless night which allowed him to get some rest. He took a shower, and, realising it was already 10 am, he quickly put his clothes on, arranged his hair, and went down to the Great Hall. He sat down next to Lorenzo, planning to eat quickly and then go see y/n in the hospital wing. He had to apologise to her for leaving as he did the day before, and planned on at least a real conversation.
As he ate, Theo felt his frustration grow. This isn’t what he had planned for her return. He had planned to get her flowers and many gifts, and to cuddle for days, trying to make up for the time lost. The cuddles were absolutely obviously out of the question now, and the gifts were maybe too much, but maybe flowers would still be a good idea? After all, maybe y/n would like to know that, unbeknown to her, she had a boyfriend who had missed her terribly while she was gone? He suddenly had the image of her in tears, alone in the dark, waiting for him to rescue her, losing all hope with each day passing. He shook his head, finished his plate quickly, and left the Great Hall, but he had barely taken a few steps when he saw two familiar silhouettes coming the opposite way. y/n and Pansy were laughing, and if you didn’t know y/n had lost her memory, you’d think she was still the same as she was before her kidnapping. y/n noticed Theo, and something in her behaviour shifted.
“Ah,” Pansy said, “Hello, Nott. y/n, dear, I’m sure you remember Theo, who you saw yesterday?”
y/n nodded. “Of course. Hi, Theo.”
“Hi, cara- y/n.”
E che cazzo, Theodore. Pull yourself together.
“I’m…glad to see you’re okay,” he managed to say.
He meant it, but the words had a hard time coming out of his mouth, as if this new uncomfortable distance between y/n and him made everything awkward - this was also new, because even before they started dating, they had always felt incredibly comfortable and safe with each other. y/n suddenly cleared her throat, which brought Theo back to reality.
“Hum, actually…I was wondering if we could talk?”
It took Theo a second to realise she was speaking to him. “Talk?”
“Yeah, I…I mean, you were a part of my life, and I want to put all the pieces together.”
Theo nodded. “Of course. Well, if you want, we can talk now?”
“Sure.”
She gave him a small, shy, adorable smile, one of those that had made him fall in love with her, but this time, instead of warming his heart, it almost broke him. Pansy excused herself and entered the Great Hall after gently squeezing y/n’s shoulder. Now that they were by themselves, the awkwardness was even worse, but all of a sudden, Theo realised he had looked at it the wrong way - sure they were now, in a way, strangers, but it didn’t have to be the end? Theo had been able to make her fall for him once, there was no way he couldn’t do it again, right? He’d just have to show her, show her exactly why she gave him a chance in the first place, and how much she meant to him. It would take time, of course, but y/n had been very patient throughout their relationship, and it was his turn now.
“Do you want to sit somewhere in particular?” he asked.
“I don’t know, was there…a particular spot we liked?” she said.
Theo immediately had an idea in mind. “Yes. Follow me.”
She followed him through the castle, and Theo noticed she looked around the castle like the first years did when they first arrived. Sometimes, her gaze would light up, and it was adorable to see.
“Did Pansy show you around?” he asked.
“Not yet,” y/n said. “I think she plans on showing it as we go.”
Theo nodded slightly, “Well, if you prefer, I could give you a tour. The castle may seem big at first, but we usually get used to it quickly.”
y/n looked at him and gave him a half-smile, “I’d like that.”
They both walked to a bench situated in a corner of the courtyard, a bit away from where the crowd of students usually went, so it allowed them some privacy. They sat side by side, and Theo felt both the need to put some distance between them and to eradicate any distance that existed. He had never been able to keep his hands off y/n, and always had a hand on her thigh or around her; always craving her touch.
“So, do…Do you have any questions?” Theo asked, making sure to keep his hands to himself.
“Well, a few, yes. But I guess I just want to get to know you.”
Theo turned to her and smirked, “Well, you already know my name. Though I have to say, my name is supposed to be Theodore but all my friends call me Theo. You, however, called me Teddy.”
She stared at him for a second, “Teddy.”
It felt so good to hear her call him that he almost forgot himself, almost hugging her right here and there, almost also forgetting that she probably would feel uncomfortable.
“I’m in Slytherin just like you, and we’re in the same class, with Pansy and my friends. What else… I’m also Italian, so I’m bilingual.”
“That’s cool,” she smiled. “Do I speak another language?”
“Well,” Theo hesitated, “you were learning Italian, and you were pretty good.”
“And…when did we start dating?”
Theo let out a slight sigh, “Our fifth year.”
“Oh. And you met my parents?”
“Yeah. They were nice.”
Nice enough to allow someone like me to date their only child.
“And have I ever met yours?”
Theo gulped and looked at his knees, “You never met my father. But I don’t see him very often, so…And my…mother died a few months before we started dating.”
y/n’s gaze from interest to surprise, sadness and compassion. “I’m so sorry, Teddy.”
“It’s okay. You helped a lot.”
“I’m glad I did.” She then shook her head and sighed. “I really wish I remembered, you know. If there was any way, I would do it.”
“I know.”
Because I’d do anything for you to remember, too.
“What’s the first thing you remember?” Theo said before realising it.
“Hum, it’s not very clear, but I do remember that large guy…Hagrid, isn’t it?” Theo nodded and she continued, “I remember him holding me and telling me I was gonna be alright. He brought me back to the castle and to Mrs Pomfrey. I slept a little, she examined me, and then this professor, Professor Snape, and this other man - I think they said he’s the Headmaster here? - came to talk to me and told me they had been looking for me for months. I don’t know why but for some reason, I remember being a witch, so they didn’t have to tell me. Then Professor Snape left to tell my parents and then…you arrived.”
Theo blinked, “So you don’t remember what happened during…”
“My abduction?” y/n completed. “No, not a single thing. But it’s better this way, I think,” she added.
Theo nodded slightly, and there was a moment of silence, with only the conversation and laughs of other students for noise. Theo was glad she didn’t remember anything - even though he would always remember the images of her being tortured that had been looping inside his head - but he didn’t like the fact that those who abducted her and held her somewhere would never be punished for what they did. He had no clue of how long he had been lost in thoughts, but at some point, he realised y/n was staring at him. He turned his face towards her, feeling his cheeks becoming hot, and suddenly felt nervous.
“Do I have a third eye on my forehead or something?” he said with a nervous laugh.
y/n’s eyes widened and her own cheeks became pink in embarrassment before she looked at the ground.
“I’m sorry, I…I guess I was trying to remember something. Anything.”
Theo had a silent sigh and put his hand on hers, which sent shivers down his spine.
"I'll do anything I can to help you remember, y/n. And if I can't, I'll help create beautiful new memories."
Theo thought y/n's eyes were suddenly shining, and she gave him a small, thankful smile before joiging their hands together.
PART THREE
Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box! (please make sure I can tag you without you following me!)
Masterlist
Next projects
#harry potter#hp#theodore nott#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#lorenzo berkshire#mattheo riddle#tom riddle#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#regulus black#lorenzo zurzolo#mattheo riddle x reader#tom riddle x reader#draco malfoy x reader#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire x reader#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott#enzo berkshire
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PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW)
Your family did fine. You were more comfortable than some, but not so comfortable that you could sit idle. The crops had started to bud, and the shop was filled with all manner of pickled vegetables, fresh eggs, and flowers. You counted the coppers and silvers in the little lock box under the counter. Business was the same as usual, but your brow still furrowed.
Mother was getting tired. The decades of tilling, sowing, reaping, and harvesting had started to toll on her. Especially after your father left. The bastard. Your mother labored at home with an aching back and bad knees. Before long the crops would flourish and need tending. It was more than enough work for two, unfathomable for just you alone.
Jeering came from outside the shop. A band of orc hunters with their catches. They were a threatening bunch. Hard and strong. One orc could have the strength of two men. In the great cities they faced more discrimination, but out here someone either hunted for their meat, or payed other people to do the hunting for them. And the orcs… they were masterful at what they did. And so they were welcomed.
The rusted hinges of your shop door creaked. “Did you miss me?”
Any desire to feign positivity drained from your person. You didn’t even try to hide the sour look on your face. Milo was a repugnant leech that had been stalking your family for years. He had tried courting each one of your elder sisters, losing them each time to men better than him. And now you were the last sister on the list. Unmarried. And running out of time. The latter fact he was quite aware of.
”How is Celina?” You never liked how he called your mother by her first name. It was too familiar. You don’t bother to look up from your coin counting. “My Mother’s wellbeing is none of your concern.” Milo sauntered up to the counter, “y/n-“
You slammed your fist, sending a few coins into the air. “When will you get the idea that my family wants nothing to do with you?” You still couldn’t look him in the eye. He sighed, picking up one of the coppers from the floor, “You would rather your mother toil in the field? You would rather surrender yourself to the life of a shopkeep? It’s a waste.”
You had no answer for him. Because he was right to question your choices. Yes you truly enjoyed running the family shop, but you couldn’t possibly keep this up for long without your mother. She deserved peace and rest. But he was just… a nuisance at best. Frightening at worst. His family owned half the town, and how easy it would be for them to blacklist you and your mother from ever doing business in their marketplace again.
”Anyways…” He dropped the coin down onto your counter with a clank, “Winter will come. And will you be prepared? If your mother cannot help you work the fields…”
”Are you trying to give me an ultimatum?” You had pushed the idea of next winter out of your head the second the ice started to melt. But he was right, what would you do? He didn’t entertain your question with a response. No… it wasn’t an ultimatum. It was a threat. A threat that when winter came you would get what was coming to you. He made his way out the door, the rusty hinges screeching. “You should really fix that.” He gave a nasty grin and let the door slam behind him.
You pushed all the thoughts of worry from your head. It was something you had grown skilled at doing. Gods be damned if you let him spoil such a lovely morning. You threw the windows of the shop open, arranging bouquets from your flower garden for the street to see.
At night when you and your mother pray over dinner, you beg anyone listening for an eternal spring.
~
Two weeks pass uneventfully. You sell many bouquets of flowers to well-to-do ladies, and your mother’s special pickled red onions fly off the shelves as usual. In the early morning you sit counting your coins, listening to the soft bustling of the market just beginning to wake up.
”You know you can pickle these eggs right?”
You keep your eyes trained on the coins, trying not to lose count. There is a long pause, but you can tell the man hasn’t walked away, “We don’t sell any here.”
“You should.” You raise your head to cock an eyebrow at him. You try to stifle a gasp from your chest. An orc man with olive green skin is leaned slightly through the window of your shop. You had never had an orc approach your little shop. They always had bigger and better things to sell and buy.
”We don’t sell those here.” A more rational person would have thought twice before talking back to an orc hunter. But you were tired of men questioning you. A young lady entered the shop, eyeing the orc man still leaning on your window sill. The door squealed unpleasantly, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fine,” The orc smirked and shrugged, exiting your window.
~
The next day, there was a basket waiting for you on your shop’s doorstep. You groan. This wouldn’t be the first time Milo left gifts for you to find. You take a peek into the bracket and… what was this? Spices? Salt? Garlic cloves? Underneath the goods were two silver coins.
You yelped at the sound of fingers rapping against the window pane. You reeled around expecting Milo. But… it was the orc man. The orc man from the day before. He pointed at the little latch holding the window closed. You were sure he could punch his way right through the window if he really wanted in. “I don’t want any trouble!” You yelled at him through the window.
Another smirk crept onto his face, “I bring no trouble with me, Miss. I just thought you might like a chance to make some more coin.”
What this lecherous orc seriously propositioning you for pay? Before he could say another thing, you hurled an egg at him. You hoped it would have just broken against the window to frighten him off. But to your horror it crashed through the glass, making a direct impact with his face. “Fuck!” You heard him fall on his ass in the street.
You rushed to the window. The orc was splayed out on the cobblestones, his forehead bleeding from the broken glass. He lay motionless, and you started to panic. Oh Gods. Oh Gods no. You just assaulted an orc. A big strong orc man who kills things for his living. Not even Milo or his family’s status could protect you from the wrath of an angry orc. You threw open the screeching rusted front door. Oh gods he was huge. He knew where you worked. He could follow you home. What if he brought his fellow huntsmen with him? What if they hurt your mother as well?
You couldn’t stop any of the thoughts racing through your head. You were worried about making it through winter… now you might not even make it through the summer. You bit down on your fist, trying to keep composure.
”Got a hell of an arm…” The orc grunted, pulling you out of your trance. He sat himself up, bringing his fingers to the drops of blood running down his temple. “Ha!” He guffawed and made his way to stand up.
”Please… please.” You weren’t sure if you were praying to a high power or pleading to him. His eyes met yours but there was no rage, or fury. There was a look of annoyance, maybe a bit of mild amusement. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck he said, “Miss. I only meant… you should make pickled eggs. There are a lot of orc boys out here far from the motherland. They would pay a premium for a taste of home.”
You were nearly speechless, “I- I don’t know how orcs prefer their pickled eggs-
“That basket has everything you need.”
“Oh… okay. Very well. Sir.” Your voice wavered and he could see how clearly frightened you were.
The orc groaned, wiping more blood off his face. “Sorry about this. See you around.” You hoped that wasn’t a threat, but with that he jogged his way down the street.
Blasted pickled eggs.
#orc#orc lover#orc husband#terato#monster fuqqer#monster lover#monster#orc x reader#orc x you#orc x female reader#orc x fem!reader#orc bf#orc fuqqer#monster x reader#monster x female reader#monster x human#orc x human#orc oc#monster x fem!reader#orc romance#monster romance
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Propaganda
James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat
Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
James Stewart propaganda:
"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."
youtube
“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”
“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”
Toshiro Mifune propaganda:
"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”
Submitted: this gifset
Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)
"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."
"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."
#toshiro mifune#james stewart#jimmy stewart#hotvintagepoll#round 4#fuck ! that ! old ! man ! ! !#Youtube
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WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation
notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.
september 16th, 2023
deuxmoi
24,107 likes
deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?
if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!
view all 549 comments
user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!
user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again
user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!
user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know
user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf
user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT
user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?
deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?
user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!
user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!
user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!
september 27th, 2023
y/nofficial
liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others
y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍
view all 7,923 comments
user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD
user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD
user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶
user6 MOTHER?!
user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?
user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?
sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉
y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!
user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!
user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭
y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(
october 10th, 2023
jackhughes
liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others
jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”
tagged y/nofficial
view all 2,865 comments
y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍
jackhughes my pretty girl
user76 A HARD LAUNCH
user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS
user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS
user8 he could do so much better
lhughes_06 about damn time
trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING
user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹
dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?
jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means
user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!
john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU
january 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others
y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!
tagged jackhughes
view all 7,503 comments
user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭
user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love
jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl
y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍
user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!
user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!
user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!
january 26th, 2024
deuxmoi
36,592 likes
deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?
pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.
what do you guys think, is this couple over?
view all 1,251 comments
user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting
user4 wtf?
user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough
user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over
user20 she deserves better
user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic
user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.
user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough
user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?
user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her
user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset
user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true
february 14th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others
y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍
the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍
tagged jackhughes
view all 278 comments
user6 oh, she’s still with him
user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses
user14 i don’t like him at all after last month
jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️
user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn
comments on this post are now limited
march 23rd, 2024
deuxmoi
29,783 likes
deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.
previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.
view all 1,736 comments
user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this
user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!
user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!
user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?
user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim
user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head
user8 it was obviously him after that video in january
user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?
user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors
april 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others
y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶
but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶
view all 3,279 comments
user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH
user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”
user9 significance of may 14th?
user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀
user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM
user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet
user12 new y/n album before GTA6
user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY
april 19th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others
y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.
view all 2,738 comments
user72 i’m speechless
user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT
user33 I AM IN SHOCK!
user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT
user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?
user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭
user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭
user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?
user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”
user77 @/jackhughes you should be
john.marino97 🩶🩶
user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀
user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship
user31 she’s so— i love her
february 8th, 2025
y/nofficial posted on their story
february 10th, 2025
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others
y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3
view all 3,627 comments
user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?
user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE
user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO
user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face
user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!
user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy
user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck
user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹
user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶
john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl insta edit#nhl imagine#nhl fic#faithlynn’s writings <3#faithlynn’s insta edits <3
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Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 9: Barbara)
<<Part 8: Duke | Part 10: Alfred >>
[Masterlist]
Barbara: Alright, my turn!
Tim: Frankly I’m terrified for what’s about to happen
Dick: Oh Babs will be nice, don’t worry :)
Dick: I stand corrected
Steph: Oh god
Bruce: [sighs and puts his head in his hands]
Barbara: I organized it roughly from newest vigilantes to oldest, since more patrolling means more room for spectacular failures
Duke: It was a bad day for me
Jason: HA
Steph: Been there, done that. Not on TV though that really sucks man.
Steph: NOOOOOO
Tim: ONE SQUARED?
Steph: I GOT CONFUSED
Jason: [Hysterical laughter]
Damian: One multiplied by one?!
Steph: I THOUGHT IT MADE TWO I UNDERSTAND MY MISTAKE
Duke: From this mask view footage Batman is just watching this go down
Bruce: He said he didn’t want help. Felt like a teaching moment.
Damian: (muttering) I was fine.
Dick: Damian we were not going to drive you to 5th grade with a knife in your liver.
Steph: You’ve had this footage for four years?!
Barbara: I keep a file for blackmail. Cass doesn’t really have much, though.
Cass: (signing) I did learn the dance. Eventually.
Tim: WILL THIS TORMENT EVER END
Jason: YOU CRASHED THE BATMOBILE INTO A WALMART, TIMMY.
Steph: You deserve every joke we make about this
Damian: Your idiocy must be remembered
Dick: Yeah Tim this is pretty bad
Jason: Can I have that mask view footage
Barbara: I got ya
Tim: I hate it here
Jason: I really can’t defend this one
Dick: Why...? Did you shoot the trashcan?
Jason: I thought it was looking at me funny
Damian: The trashcan?
Jason: I was up for 52 hours give me a break.
Barbara: Do you want to tell them why you pulled two all-nighters in a row? Or should I?
Jason: You are an evil, evil woman. How do you even- nevermind. Of course you know everything, why do I even wonder. And for the record, the first night I stayed up for a case.
Barbara: And the second night was for Animal Crossing.
Jason: ...perhaps.
Duke: Oh my god.
Steph: And you laughed at me?
Bruce: (sighs)
Steph: Stop you were adorable in high school
Barbara: Thank you, but the braces? The acne? The bangs? 15 year old Barbara had no idea what she was doing.
Dick: I for one thought you were very cute in high school.
Jason: Stop flirting or I will leave
Bruce: Why were you both on a roof at night in your school uniforms?
Dick: I think let’s move on
Dick: Nevermind nevermind go back
Tim: Oh my god, Dick.
Duke: ”Purposely” ?!
Dick: I was nine
Damian: I knew better by age 9.
Bruce: Lessons were learned. I hope.
Jason: I’m starting to think I was one of the better Robins
Dick: I felt like I see sounds for three days...
Bruce: All traces of this were wiped from the internet.
Barbara: Oh Bruce, you know I’m better than that.
Dick: Hold on, hold on, we need an explanation.
Alfred: (as he walks by) A little too much to drink goes a long way...
Tim: YOU WERE DRUNK? ON PATROL?
Jason: No way. Even I haven’t been that stupid.
Duke: What did you buy at CVS
Bruce: ...apparently... I bought lollipops.
Steph: “Apparently” as in the next morning you didn’t remember putting on the Batsuit, going to CVS, buying lollipops, and talking to a guy with an audio recording device?
Bruce: ...yes.
Cass: (signing) Very bad. Very funny, but very bad.
Damian: Also an ineffective use of a smoke bomb if this civilian saw you walk away...
Bruce: Barbara, you have made your point.
<<Part 8: Duke | Part 10: Alfred >>
[Masterlist]
#batfamily powerpoint au#this one took a while because i drew all the goofy art#i especially like the one of baby dick grayson#also high school barbara was just me in freshman year#projecting my cringe high school era onto barbara gordon#also i did not forget betty kane's batgirl in my numbering#batfamily#batfam#barbara gordon#oracle#batgirl#bruce wayne#batman#dc comics#dick grayson#nightwing#robin#dc robin#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#damian wayne#duke thomas#stephanie brown#cass cain#black bat#orphan
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the start of time | 𝐩𝐣𝐬
୨୧ pairing: park (jay) jongseong x reader ୨୧ word count: 8.6k ୨୧ genre: angst, semi-fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to strangers to lovers, childhood friends, miscommunication, pet names (baby, love, etc.), unprotected sex, TRIGGERS FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND PARENTAL ABUSE IN THE LATTER HALF OF FIC. ୨୧ synopsis: You've lost your creative spark for the first time since moving away from Jeju Island, leaving behind your best friend in the process without an explanation. But when a work assignment sends you back to your hometown, truths come to light and perhaps lost love can come back with a little time and effort. ➸ bless @pars-ley for following this fic to the very beginning and being one of the best betas ever! this story is for you, ley, and thank you ♡ 💿Listen to the story's playlist here!
Over the thin railing that separates Jay from the cliffs below, the waves crash violently together. The weather mirrors the feelings circulating through his veins. The ripples of the seabed meeting the sand make him long for what his life could be instead of its current state. The wind whips his trenchcoat in angry thrashes against his back. His hands grip the lighthouse’s iron bars to keep his body steady. The upcoming storm was forecast last night to be one of the biggest downpours of the summer.
As the second in command of the lighthouse keeper, his father, it’s standard practice to be prepared for what’s to come. As the sea continues its visceral reaction to the weather, Jay thinks about her and what her life has become since she’s left. Is she happy? Is Seoul everything she dreamed of? Was running from Jeju without saying goodbye worth it? Or is she closer than he believes, her heart’s desire turning out to be not far from the fishing town they grew up in?
His father calls for him inside, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. Probably for the better, anyway. Thinking about those chapters of his life, the book separated cleanly and harshly with a before and after, does him no good. So, like he should, he runs inside to do the next task that keeps one of the last lighthouses in Jeju working properly. Even if his heart has to be sacrificed in the process.
The subject of your next photograph takes no interest in the lens standing three feet away. Her tail wiggles rapidly as she inspects the bush in front of her with her perky, wet nose. You giggle quietly behind your camera, trying not to disturb her inspection of the roses.
Rule #1 of photography, according to your department head Sunghoon, is to make yourself nonexistent. To get the perfect shot, conceal yourself as much as possible. It’s taken many practice sessions since your first magazine catalog, the original photos coming out less than perfect. Thankfully, you’re now lead photographer thanks to Sunghoon’s tutelage and tips. After five years, you feel like you’re on stable ground.
It reminds you of Jay, the sudden memory of him being the focus of your lens many times before a punch to the gut. Your oldest friend in the world probably wonders what the reason was for your sudden departure. You couldn’t even leave him a letter to provide some semblance of an explanation, one that he definitely deserved more than anyone else.
If only you had a reason that made sense or could salvage the bond you once shared. You know now it’s been eaten away by silence, so what could be said anyhow to repair it?
Your guilt gnaws at your empty stomach the entire way back to the headquarters of Otherworldly, the magazine you interned at and subsequently were hired to take pictures for. You greet the rest of your team when you make your way upstairs.
”Finally found some inspiration?” Sunwoo asks. Your friend tries to balance a pencil on the top of his nose.
”I’m working on it. In the meantime, I got the copies you wanted.” You give him the folder that holds your pictures for the month’s spread.
”Barely made the deadline this time, kid.” Sunghoon tuts his head at you.
“Leave her be,” Chaewon chides him, thwacking her notebook on the back of his head. It’s nice to know the writer’s room has your back when the boys decide to tease, especially in the form of Chaewon. She may be a stern leader, but she also happens to have a soft spot for you, the only female photographer.
You hear your boss, Kim Taehyung, call your name and ask you to come to his office. Your body bristles at the command, but Chaewon pats you on the shoulder. “Probably just a timesheet thing.”
Tip-toeing into Taehyung’s office, you smile at his back. Your boss is focused on a box of files on the windowsill, the outline of his button up shirt highlighted by the sun. “Please sit,” he says.
You do as he asks, putting your hands on your knees to pinch the skin, an old habit you couldn't kick. You tuck your hands under your legs to stop when Taehyung turns to you. He presses his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose, a soft smile emerging on his lips. “I wanted to say your photos from the last column were very impressive.”
”Oh!” You respond instinctively. Expecting reprimands that turned out to be compliments, you mentally take a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”
"Also," he says, "I was wondering how you’d feel being sent out on an assignment. Well, you and Sunwoo, actually. Sunghoon was discussing a location-focused piece, and he recommended you for it since you may need a change of scenery for some fresh inspiration.”
You nod your head immediately. “Of course!”
Taehyung claps his hands together, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ve already booked you two for the next flight to Aewol in two days. It’ll probably be easy to find a place to stay, right?”
The pit in your stomach that faded immediately widens into a chasm. The sound of your hometown’s name on Taehyung’s lips could have been a figment of your imagination. A sick joke your guilt materialized to punish you further. But as you look longer at your boss, his glee transforming into hesitant confusion, you know the reality is far worse.
”The location piece is for Jeju,” you say, the realization on your lips hitting your ears like a cannon.
”Is that an issue? I can always send Jungwon with Sunwoo instead."
”No sir! Not a problem at all.” The words tumble out before you can stop them.
Jungwon, the little prick, wouldn’t get in the way of your success if you could help it. It’s bad enough that he reminds you of your creative block whenever he gets the chance. No way would he steal a cover piece from you. Particularly the one Sunghoon recommended you for and your boss expected you to complete without problems.
Despite the implications creating intense dread in every fiber of your being.
”Perfect. Get some sleep for the flight! I’ll send the piece details in an email first thing tomorrow morning.”
You walk back to your desk in a daze, unsure what to say when Sunghoon, Sunwoo, and Chaewon ask about the meeting. All your thoughts can center on is Jay, his smiling face continuously playing in your mind’s eye.
“This town is cute! A bit barren, but cute,” Sunwoo says as he exits the car parked in front of your childhood home. Your mother’s rose bushes stand tall near the mailbox, the only color in the dry grasslands surrounding your house. Aewol pales in comparison to the colors of Seoul, the city’s vibrant hues suddenly replaced with sepia tones. The only color that seems to shine through the landscape is the sea a five-minute walk away.
”Say that again, Woo, and your face won’t look so cute.” You roll your eyes and grab your luggage from the trunk.
Two weeks, only two weeks, you can survive two weeks. Your mantra on the flight to Jeju Island has been giving you some relief at the thought of going back home in half a decade. Standing in front of the brick and mortar that encapsulates your old house, you find the words to be extremely hollow.
With her uncanny senses, your mother is already out the door and greeting you and Sunwoo with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. How she could tell the two of you were barely out of the car without spying out the window, you’re unsure.
Sunwoo melts under your mother’s attention, his gummy smile and polite aura on full display. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
”Ah, my prayers were answered. Glad to see my daughter returned with a boyfriend!”
Yours and Sunwoo’s eyes grow to saucers. Your tongues are erupting with explanations at an absurdly fast speed. “No, Mom,” you shush her as Sunwoo’s blush creeps across his neck. “Woo’s my coworker. He’s here with me on an assignment.”
”Oh! Apologies.” She laughs behind one hand and pats Sunwoo on the back with the other. “Doesn’t mean one day you can’t be more than coworkers! That’s how your father and I met, remember?”
You give her a close-lipped smile and nod, the muscles in your jaw tightening.
You hadn’t thought about your father or your parents’ relationship once since you had flown out to the mainland. Admittedly, your life was all the better for it.
Feeling the air of his presence surrounding yours again twists the veins in your neck to tense knots. The ends of your hair prickle in anticipation. You make it to the front of your doorstep, wondering where he is and why he didn’t barge outside to greet you.
Like she can read your mind, your mother says, “I forgot to call and tell you, honey. Your father had an accident at the factory a month ago.” You see a tear in the corner of her eye, but you don’t address it. “So…he’s been bedridden for the past few months now.”
Sunwoo expresses his deepest sympathies. Unbeknownst to him, they deserve to go to the next beggar before him.
Like any other child, you should worry about your father’s sudden health change with a heavy heart and a frazzled mind. You should feel guilty for being away for so long, wondering how to make up for the lost time.
But you feel nothing. Not an ounce of what you should feel.
Even when you sit by your parents’ bed, his eyes lazily gazing out the window while your mother tells him in a loving voice that you’re home, your emotions are devoid of anything negative or positive. Sunwoo smiles and greets him politely. Your father says nothing. The seizure that overtook him stole his ability to enunciate coherent words.
Some moments later, when it’s just the two of you in the room together, you itch to leave. It should be a pleasure to see him. But you’re unsure to see it any other way but objectively: he’s just a body in a bed, doing nothing every day.
You hear your mother shouting in the living room. Her voice is at an abnormally high pitch to exemplify her happiness. You forgot she could achieve such a decibel when she wanted to.
”You won’t believe who’s here, Seongie!”
Seongie.
The childhood nickname Jay was blessed with by his parents, and the name stuck like a second skin. Now, it bounces off your ears and exacerbates your already conflicting emotions. Your body goes into overdrive from the sudden overstimulation, at ease from knowing Jay is close by but petrified you're seeing him after so long.
You fix your hair and take tentative steps out of your parents' room and into the hallway, hearing your mother call your name to beckon you to welcome your old friend.
When you see him, his frame filling the doorway of your childhood house, you’re transported back in time. You see yourself and Jay on a day when he could barely stand at half the wall height. You were etching pencil markings into the doorframe, the wood concealing the handwriting perfectly when the door was fully closed. A time when there were no worries or anxieties placed on you, the two of you against the world.
Looking over his face now, you realize the years have not shown physically. He still has the same angled jaw and smooth cheeks. His bottom lip remains puffy, especially when he pouts. The only thing that has changed with time is his eyes, most likely from the image before him, one he hasn’t seen in so long.
He has every right to be confused. One second, you stopped being a staple in his life. Now, you’re back in it without a warning.
You can’t deny your heart clenching. The muscle seizes when he looks over your figure, his jaw ticking when he finally meets your eyes with his own.
”You’re back,” he says finally. His first words to you in five years hold an air of uncertainty, laced with unspoken pain. He’s unsure what to do with his body, his arms pressed to his sides and his hands stuffed tightly into his pockets.
Knowing you’re the cause of it makes you want to run to Seoul all over again with your tail between your legs, hoping you can forget the misery you’ve caused. How can one apology hold enough weight to make up for what you did to one of the only people you’ve ever loved?
Sunwoo, aware of the sudden tension flooding the room, holds out a hand to your best friend. “Hi, I’m Sunwoo.”
Jay breaks eye contact with you to take Sunwoo’s palm, shaking it with a gentle but present grip. Jay gestures to your mom when he discusses yours and Sunwoo’s job at the magazine. “She’s very proud of her daughter, you know."
”Of course!” Your mother exclaims. “‘S not everyday that your child becomes some hip photographer.”
Jay inhales a heavy breath and looks down at his watch. “I have to go back to the lighthouse, but—“
”I thought your dad still ran that thing,” you cut Jay off. Aewol’s lighthouse was one of the last on the island, and the last love Jay’s father had left after his wife passed away twelve years ago. You expected it to stay in the family, but not in this way. Not when Jay has so many dreams to fulfill. Or, at least, you hope so.
Jay releases a humorless laugh, eyes falling at the corners. “Pop’s getting old. Can’t do it forever.”
He hugs your mother and gives a soft wave to Sunwoo. You feel the pit in your chest from a few days ago re-erupt when Jay looks in your direction before he departs. All you’re left with is the grim line of his mouth to haunt you for the rest of your afternoon.
The shutter of your camera makes Jay turn his head to you with a shy grin, his hair blowing in all directions from the wind. Your spot on the cliffside overlooking the sea is close enough to the lighthouse for you to see Jay’s father going in and out of the structure with supplies shipped from the mainland. Jay only runs over when his father calls for him to help, but his father hasn’t bothered to in the last hour or so.
In the downtime, the two of you have been alternating between science homework and enjoying the cool, cloudy weather. You’ve taken a number of shots of the water’s current and weeds surrounding your picnic blanket, but the majority of them were of your best friend. He pretends he’s going to smack your lens away, but he never does.
“Are you done taking candid shots of me?” Jay asks, his pencil scratching against his notebook.
“Depends. Maybe once you tell me what you’re writing,” you tease. “Because it’s definitely not a chemical equation.”
Jay chuckles and puts his notebook between the two of you. The words are jumbled in front of you until you recognize them as a recipe. “I was testing out this version of hoedeopbap last night, but I used white fish instead of salmon. It turned out really good, even Jaeyun liked it.”
You rest your head on your hand, sprawling out on the blanket to look at Jay. He always appears so animated when discussing food. You wonder when he’ll take the initiative and do something with his passion.
“What?” He asks when he catches you staring.
You grin and turn your eyes away. “You’re just a dork for food, is all.”
“Says the nerd with her camera always around her neck.”
You click your tongue at him. “I consider myself an opportunist. How else will I get good shots if I don’t have my baby with me?” You rub your camera’s body lovingly, and Jay releases a hearty laugh.
The booming sound of your father’s voice calling your name makes your entire body flinch. You swear his figure is as tall as the lighthouse as he comes towards your picnic blanket, stopping short when he sees Jay next to you.
“It’s almost dinner time. Let’s go home.” Your father says the words with a false ease; they hide his warning to follow him back to your house. Your anxiety rumbles low in your stomach, but you play it off like it’s nothing as you pack up your stuff.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jay says, his eyes hopeful for the next morning. As it is your routine for him to bike with you to school, you’re also counting the minutes until you see him again.
“See you tomorrow,” you say, your eyes soft but your stomach wrapped in knots. When you’re out of sight, and your father wraps his hand around your upper arm on your way to the car, you calculate the next seconds until you’re away from him and back in the safety of your best friend’s presence.
You and Sunwoo have been around the town square of Aewol all morning and afternoon. The crisp hour of 4 PM hits you sharply with the sound of cows and other livestock sounding off somewhere nearby. The pictures you’ve both taken of the local townspeople, random animals passing through the pale greenery, and subtle landscape have been average at best. They don’t hit you with awe or fuel any further inspiration. It’s the same cycle you’ve repeated for the past three months, trying to strike some sort of match of creativity only to come up empty.
“Let’s be honest,” Sunwoo says, looking over his own camera’s reel. “These kinda blow.”
“You don’t say?” You kick a free cobblestone off the road in front of you, lips downturned.
“The assignment is ‘Hidden Treasures’ right? Maybe we’re just looking in the wrong place.”
“Where do you think we’ll find something like that here?”
“You’re a local,” Sunwoo says in his defense. “Where did you go all the time in this backwater town?”
The beginning of your sarcastic remark dies on your lips the second you see Jay walking out of the laundromat with Heeseung, one of your old high school friends. He looks the same as Jay, still youthful but showing maturity around the edges.
Jay catches your eyes as they continue walking, his face contorting in surprise but unsure how to address it. Heeseung is the one to run towards you and pick you up in a tight hug, practically squeezing the remaining energy out of you.
“Holy shit, Jong wasn’t lying! You’re really back!” Heeseung laughs, his eyes becoming crescent moons from his happiness. You match his reaction, genuinely glad to see another familiar face.
You introduce Sunwoo to Heeseung, and Sunwoo exchanges pleasantries with Jay. Jay remains tense, the two of you conflicted about how to bridge the awkwardness that lingers.
Heeseung, like Sunwoo, is a great detective, sniffing out tension and immediately directing the conversation to your cameras. “So, Jong was saying you’re here for an assignment?”
“Yes!” Sunwoo says before you can. “We’re trying to find hidden treasures, actually. Our boss’s words, not mine.” Heeseung laughs at Sunwoo and then flicks his fingers.
“Jong could show you guys the inside of the lighthouse! Or even the view from that damn balcony would be a treasure in its own right. You can practically see the whole town from up there. Right, Jong?”
Jay rolls his eyes and rolls the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. “Yeah, that would be fine.”
“Perfect! We were dying here without any good material. No offense to you small town folk,” Sunwoo apologizes, but neither of your old friends mind. They welcome Sunwoo’s city perspective with laughter and an open hand, just like they always have with newcomers.
On your walk to the lighthouse, Heeseung and Sunwoo taking the lead, you’re left to walk alongside Jay. The tension is a tad looser than it was before, but it still pervades the space between you both.
Finally, Jay says, “I can’t believe you’re actually home, y’know.” He says the sentence more like a question, his voice unable to mask the traces of hurt that linger.
It makes your heart rip, but you avoid the workings inside your chest to keep the conversation light. "It took a long time, didn't it?”
”Yeah. It’s like you dropped off the planet.” Jay’s voice turns a degree lighter. He smiles, the crack in his solid facade giving you a way back in.
“I basically did. All I had was my camera and some clothes in my bag.”
Jay's eyes widen, startled by the thought. “You’ve never traveled light once in your entire life.”
”I know! I barely had time to grab the necessities.”
His eyes are filled with humor. “And by that, you mean…”
“Obviously my Pokémon collection, for starters. I had to start from scratch,” you joke. “Good thing I saved all of the old cards under my bed.”
”Even the one of Charmander that I dropped in Jaeyun’s homemade soju?”
You nod, laughing. “It still smells like watermelon.”
”Bullshit!”
You both fall into an easy rhythm of witty banter and taunting, recalling old memories and brushing shoulders in a mocking fashion.
By the time you’re taking photographs on the highest floor of the lighthouse, the tension has dissipated by a large portion. Your relationship with Jay may not be completely back to where it was before, but the first lighthearted smile he throws in your direction proves it’s a start.
And a start is just enough to make your heart feel a million pounds lighter.
“So Jongseong is flailing this card around, not realizing that the bowl of my signature soju punch is right there behind him…” Jake tells the story of the Charmander card with animated expressions. Heeseung and Jay roll their eyes, but Sunwoo laughs the entire time, his buzz bumping his energy to a level you had never seen before.
The bonfire Jake and Heeseung set up a walk away from the lighthouse is big enough for all five of you to sit comfortably around it. It seemed to be the only way your old friends could hang out together at this point in their adult lives. The bar that still stood in town filled with too many old people to feel like an acceptable hangout location.
“And he completely dropped not only her precious Pokémon card, but his whole fist into the punch bowl! I had to make a whole new batch without my parents knowing about it!” Jake laughs incredulously.
The memory still holds a level of insanity for him, clearly—not just at the situation but the level of teasing that you and Jay would devolve to when you were in your own little world together. You couldn’t help that you wanted to take your card from Jay’s hands, even if that meant soaking him in alcohol to get him to give it up.
You lift your beer to your lips, blushing. Jay sits beside you and notices the humor in your expression, smiling to himself too. You didn’t expect to reach this level of closeness again so soon. Who knew it would take a work project to find your way back to each other? With the week coming to a close and a good catalog of photos under your belt thanks to him, you could say the glass was looking half full.
“You guys got any more stories? This shit’s hilarious!” Sunwoo says, still laughing.
“Loads, man,” Jake responds.
“He’s got the best memory of all of us. Probably remembers all of our first naps in elementary,” Heeseung adds.
“How about we focus on the present, please? Otherwise we’ll be here until the sun comes up, Dee and Dum,” Jay says, pointing to the prime suspects with their all-knowing smirks.
“What else is there to say, Jay? Jake and I have been toiling on the dredging boats. You keep guarding that white tower and saying no to your uncle every time he asks you to work at his restaurant. Same old, same old.”
You turn your head to stare at Jay, perplexed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
It’s always been Jay’s dream to make something of himself with his recipes. Bookmarks, sticky notes, anything with free space held an ingredient here or a step for a recipe there. It was like it was second nature, as were photographs for you.
How could he deny himself from what he wanted?
“I already have responsibilities here. I can’t drive up and down the highway to Park & Co. every day.”
“Start small, idiot.” You chide him, half-serious in your pestering. “Who said you couldn't do both? You can be a good son and still have your own dream.”
“Careful,” Jake says to you. “He might listen to you.”
“You’re the only one who gets through that cold heart of his,” Heeseung teases.
Jay gives the older boys a stern look, and they back off immediately.
On the walk back to your house, Jay’s jacket nestled around your shoulders, you grill him further on the prospect of him cooking seriously. “You should do it.”
Jay shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “And what’ll happen to the lighthouse? My dad will go back every morning on his cane and keep it working himself? No way.”
“Come on, who says you can’t do both?” You flaunt your arms in the air, emphasizing your point. “It’s not like it rains every day here.”
He looks at you with humored eyes, their shape becoming extremely thin when he smiles. “You’re even more stubborn as an adult, you know?
You poke your tongue out at him. “I could say the same about you, Seongie.”
The rain soaks your clothes when you run through Jay’s door. You shake off the droplets in your hair, most of the strands needing to be wrung out in your fist. Jay gets you a towel to dry off with, laughing at your current state of affairs.
”Don’t make fun of me. Be glad I still came, asshole,” you warn, warming yourself with the dryness of the cotton towel.
Jay raises his hands in mercy. “I told you to come earlier! Forecasts are no joke.”
”Sometimes they’re wrong,” you say.
”Ninety-five percent of the time, they’re not. Trust the lighthouse keeper next time, maybe? I’ve been watching those skies for three years. I know if and when the weathermen are full of shit.”
You roll your eyes and shuck your shoes off, “Whatever. Any chance you have a spare pair of warm socks for me? I may get frostbite.”
”One, that involves snow,” Jay says as he walks into his small bedroom, leaving you alone for a second before coming out with what you requested. “And two, promise to bring them back. I only have so many pairs before I have to go to the city for more.”
”Scout’s honor,” you promise. You switch out your soaked socks for Jay’s, the feeling of the fabric making you immediately warmer. It could also be the fireplace that Jay put kindling in before you got there, but it’s mostly the socks. “Thank you. I feel better already.”
“I’d offer you a set of clothes too, but I’m moving a lot of my stuff from my dad’s.”
“It’s not that far away, though. You really want to live in this tiny shack?”
Jay laughs and returns to his food on the stove. “Do you think I could bring a girl home living with him? I love him, but I’m getting too old to be his roommate.”
You smile and press your arms into the kitchen counter, but you know it’s false. The thought of Jay being with someone else sprouts a gargantuan knot of jealousy in your stomach. He’s never belonged to you, not by any means. Not only that, but your illogical departure gives you no right to claim him now. And yet…
“Hey, where’d you go?” He waves a dish towel in front of your face, a smile on his lips.
“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you play off your prying thoughts.
“Obviously.” He sticks his tongue out at you and continues to stir the concoction on the stove.
“What are you making anyway?”
“Seaweed soup. I haven’t been able to make you any since…the last birthday we spent together.”
Your body warms deep down to the soles of your feet at this surprise. “My birthday was three months ago.”
He chuckles and turns his head to you, smirking. “Consider it a belated birthday gift then.” He carries on stirring, but continues talking. “Besides, you always liked my soup compared to your mom’s. Too watery, if I remember right.”
You blush and step away from the counter. “Let’s not talk about her or her food.”
Jay’s face turns puzzled. “You’ve always been so bristly when we talk about your family. Your mom is one of the sweetest ladies in town."
“You don’t get it. You didn’t grow up with her.”
“Hey, at least you have both parents around.”
You slam your hand down on another laminate countertop, growing more frustrated the longer the topic is broached. “Jongseong, please drop it.”
“Why are you getting so upset?” He asks, puzzled and growing alarmingly quiet at your outburst.
“Because you don’t get it! And you never will, okay? So let it go!”
The kitchen suddenly feels too suffocating, the memories of the past and your argument melding together in a way that makes any hunger that you had become a full stomach stuffed with nothing but anger and fear. You run out of the house and back into the rain, knowing if you say anything more, your secrets will fall around you like pellets soaking your skin.
The lanterns fill the sky like a thousand stars, close enough for you to touch before they’re whisked away into the dark clouds above you. Even for your small town, every adult and child knows the end of summer festival is a time to make the last set of wishes and affirmations before autumn comes. If Jay’s father yearned for an easy season, he would buy a lantern to release on a night light tonight, as would your friends’ families who hoped for good health and fortune.
You smile when you manage to catch one, holding on tight despite knowing it’s against tradition. Once one is meant to float away, it was considered rude to stop it from continuing on its path upward.
Jay chuckles and grabs it from you, matching your pout in jest. “Next year, I’ll buy you your own, alright? Don’t be greedy!”
You roll your eyes and watch the lantern rise up and away from your spot on the beach. It shimmers in an amber glow until it slips away into the black sky overhead.
You turn to him, eyes lit up not just from the lantern flames. “Did you wish for anything this year?”
Jay shrugs. “I can’t really wish for anything ‘cause I didn’t get—“
“Don’t give me that! It’s symbolic, anyway. Just tell me,” you whine.
Jay only side-eyes you, a smirk playing on his lips.
You attempt to throw a bundle of sand in his direction, but he sees your upcoming attack the second you raise your arm. He takes your wrist in his hand, the clump disintegrating between your fingers. The two of you laugh as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.
You’re both a tangle of limbs until he finally pins you down on the ground. He hovers above you, panting hard. “I win,” Jay replies, his breathing ragged but eyes still sparkling from a successful takedown.
“You wish.”
In the flicker of lantern lights and midnight stars overhead, Jay can’t help himself from leaning down closer until there’s barely a breath between your lips. He lets every doubt that has lingered over the past fourteen years dissipate and surrenders to the moment, feeling the softness of your mouth as he kisses you.
You could be glowing as bright as the lights still being sent off into the sky. You feel like you are, anyway.
He doesn’t go faster or push you further, the simplicity of the act making you sparkle from within with every ebb and flow of your conjoined lips. The crackle of a firework is what makes the two of you come up for air, unaware of how much time has passed.
You let the moment hang between you the entire walk home. He holds your hand, squeezing it every now and then, the action more valuable than any words he could say right now. He holds himself back from giving you another kiss to say goodnight, knowing there’s always tomorrow.
Minutes after you make it inside, the scene in front of you turns whatever joy was left from Jay’s presence into acid.
“Can you not do anything right around here? I ask for the simplest things and even that’s too much.” Your father points to the food in his hands with an air of disgust directed at your mother.
He spits his vitriol in her face, the pattern commonplace. The behavior is nothing new, but his eyes show something worse than normal brewing beneath the surface.
“I can fix it,” your mother assures him, trying to take the bowl from him. “I’ll throw out the old batch and—“
“So now you think wasting food is the better choice? Are you stupid?”
The two of them are unaware of your presence, but even if they were, you doubt that would change the downward spiral they were heading towards.
She tries to walk away from him like she always has, diffusing the situation in the only way she knows how, but he drops the bowl on the counter and takes her by the arm.
“You’re not leaving,” he warns. The next moments pass in a blur, each one that plays out making you hover outside of your body, looking down in disbelief. Your mother’s temple hits the wood with a terrible thud. The next second, your body is pressed against your father’s to pull him away, begging, “Daddy, please stop!”
His upper arm has enough force to jam into your chest and knock you onto the kitchen tile below. Pain reverberates up your tailbone from hitting the floor in a violent bang.
Your mother comes from the daze of her assault to cover your body with her own. It’s a pointless defense, your father’s feet slamming hard on the floor as he walks away and into the bedroom without looking back once.
She apologizes profusely, holding your head in her hands as tears stream down her face without an endpoint. You can barely form a tear yourself, still unsure the past ten minutes happened at all. An hour ago, you had your first kiss, and now…
“Your aunt lives on a coast off the mainland. I can’t let you stay here anymore, my love.”
That moment is when you feel the water form in your eyes. You couldn’t leave now, not with so much left uncertain.
“Promise me you’ll leave this place. Don’t think about this night again and find something better, please.”
That entire night, the waves knocking into each other with the same force as you had encountered hours ago, you feel your heart shatter into a multitude of pieces, each fragment tinier and more painful than the last. The thought of Jay waking up to see you in the morning only to find you erased from his life, robs any chance of you sleeping on the boat ride to Wando.
He’ll try to call and text, for sure. But what could be said that would explain the last twenty four hours without breaking your promise to your mother? How could you live with sharing such intimate details of your household, even with someone as sacred to you as Jay is?
How could you make him believe it wasn’t his fault that you fled without revealing your most vulnerable and harsh reality? After coming so close to the future you always dreamed of with him, what would he think? What would he do?
So, like any coward does, you let the phone ring until your battery dies, not bothering to charge it again until you make it to your aunt’s. You tell yourself he’ll move on and life will be better with you safe and out of the picture. Every beat of your breaking heart may call you a liar, but you’ll learn to twist it into the truth one day.
The next afternoon, sun slowly setting to meet the waves below, you walk towards the lighthouse with the courage your younger self didn’t have the night you ran away. Your heart tosses around in your mouth when you take the first step through the threshold, but now is the last time you fear the truth. If you couldn’t explain the circumstances back then, the least you could do was explain them now.
You take the trek up the steps to the top floor of the lighthouse, every step heavier than the last. Jay stands inside the lantern room cleaning the large bulb at the center of the space. He immediately tenses when you walk through the open door, but he says nothing. He only holds the same somber expression he had the first day you arrived back in Aewol. Only now, so much more rests behind his face that you cannot decipher.
“I’m sorry,” you say finally. The words release something you believed couldn’t be separated from your being. Your guilt remains present, but the apology provides a long-held breath of fresh air.
He looks up to meet your gaze, eyebrows furrowing just a touch. The setting sun casts amber shadows across his face, making his confusion breathtaking. Clearly, he’s unsure what exactly you’re apologizing for.
The next words already taste like lead in your mouth, but you can’t hold the weight of them for another second.
Speaking them out loud is what will set you free.
“The night I left, my dad pushed my mom into a cabinet,” you confess. The eight words you just uttered create a well of tears in your eyes, but you keep your voice level and solid. “He had always been…harsh before, not just with her, but that was the first night I ever saw him hurt her with his hands instead of his words.
“I tried to stop it from getting worse, and I fell down—no,” you take a breath, “h-he threw—he threw me down on the floor.” You feel foolish for trying to minimize his actions, knowing there’s no reason to protect him anymore. You lower your head, ashamed. “That was when my mom called my aunt in Wando. She begged me not to say anything, so I kept it a secret. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about it… and about how much of an asshole my father really is.”
You can’t help the way your words crumble on your tongue or the low whimper that erupts from your lips. You had accepted in silence the harsh reality of your father being a violent and cruel human being, but speaking the words aloud is another beast entirely.
You go cold, your figure limp until you feel Jay’s gentle fingers under your chin. They pull your face up to meet his, catching his glassy and red eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”
You sniffle. “What would you have done? We were seventeen—“
“Fuck that,” Jay seethes, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I would’ve killed him then, just like I want to right now.”
You laugh and take his fingers in yours. “I made a promise.” You lock onto his gaze harder, trying to convey every ounce of regret you still feel. “I thought about calling you every day. I’d pick up the phone and didn’t know how to come up with the right words, especially after…”
Jay laughs, passing over the curve of your cheek with his thumb. It’s the rhythmic pattern of his touch that makes you come down from such heightened emotions. It’s always been his superpower, grounding you like this. “If I had known I wouldn’t see you again, I would’ve kissed you until the sun came up.”
You blush, your body flushing with heat. “Nothing’s stopping you now, Jongseong. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He steps forward, the shy boy you grew to love appearing in front of you. The last time you were this close, you both were unsure about most things in life, but not about how much you meant to him, and vice versa.
Now, the feelings he had put on hold for so long take hold of him, his heart a kaleidoscope of pent-up sensations when he finally presses his lips to yours. His mouth is ravenous, his tongue finding yours as his arms clutches onto your body with fervor.
You’re encased in him, all the lost time suddenly found in the spaces of his mouth on yours, your hands on his body, and the moans that leave your mouth. He undoes the buttons of your cardigan with quick ease, taking it off of your shoulders and somewhere in the room you don’t care to remember. You help him pull the sweater over his head to kiss the column of his throat and top of his chest, making him shudder.
You both pause to hurry down to the drawing room below, not wanting to continue on the iron floor next to the bright bulb of the lighthouse. Yes, the cot off to the side of the room is not incredibly comfortable, but you care little about its lack of comfort when Jay lays you down on your back and smothers your body in kisses. He makes a map of your skin until he meets the apex of your thighs, your body highly strung by the time he kisses the center of your legs.
You clutch his hair with both hands and hold tight in the midst of his ministrations, his whispered words of affirmation and the figure-eight patterns of his tongue saying just enough to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
He lifts his head from your body to crawl over you, his heart in his mouth as he says the words that have always been in his mind and heart from the second he saw you. “I love you.”
You’re unsure if it’s normal to cry at such a confession or in the midst of your current situation, but regardless, there are no tears of fear or pain. They’re ones that fill the silence between you with what he already knows to be true. But you say the words he needs to hear anyway. “I love you, too, Seongie.”
This is what it feels like to be at home. His body against yours, him sliding so easily inside of you without a word needed for the immense amounts of pleasure that already exists. It could be a handful of minutes or a span of time that carries over into the next morning. All that matters is his lips on your own and his hips meeting yours with every thrust.
And in between every movement, he has to remind you how much he loves you. His words and feelings are already embossed into your heart, but it’s nice to hear the breathless cadence of his voice. “I love you so much,” he groans, his end close with the sudden stutters of his body.
You fall off the cliffside together, your bodies in sync in the best possible way as your eyes see the stars from the very first night you kissed in the back of your eyelids. And when he has his hands in your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, you wonder why it took you this long to come back to the one person who has always been the safest space in your world.
The two of you stay nestled in the thin blanket, Jay’s body your source of warmth in the small drawing room of the lighthouse. The cot barely holds your bodies, but with you both squeezing together and not wanting to let go, you make it work.
Jay takes stray hairs from your face to tuck behind your ears. “I can’t believe you didn’t know how bad my crush was until the festival.”
You giggle into his chest. “I wasn’t paying attention to boys back then! How would I have known?” You hold his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.
He chuckles. “I think I was pretty obvious.”
“To everyone but me, I guess,” you joke. “Besides, I think I always knew I’d end up with you, strangely.”
“That’s not strange, not at all.” He kisses you tenderly, nipping your lips until you laugh into his mouth. “Perfect. At least to me.”
“Same,” you agree. “I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with you.”
Jay responds by holding you tighter between his arms. He kisses the top of your head before whispering, “So where do we go from here?”
The answer is simple, but that doesn’t make it any easier to face.
Jay looks deeply into your eyes and senses the words you cannot say, and the strength of his stare and his arms as your protective walls from all the harm that still exists in this world gives you the power to confront what you need to.
That afternoon, leaving Jay in the lighthouse with your heart fully in his possession, you know you have to face the demons that wait for you in your childhood home. If you are to have a future together, the first thing you have to do is make peace with the past.
A handwritten note on the fridge tells you your mother went out for groceries, giving you the perfect excuse to release the words that would end your terror once and for all.
You enter your parents’ room to see your father, unmoved from the spot you saw him in on the first day you were back home. Your mother pleaded for you to check in every now and then now that you were back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not until now.
You move the chair by his bedside out to sit down. When you finally face him again, you take note of the details you were too blinded by indifference to notice before. You observe the wrinkles on his forehead, the sunken divots under his eyes, the age lines surrounding his mouth, the frailness of his body.
The weight he’s lost since his accident makes all his features stand out more. All that he’s lost, but has also always been, is on full display now: this husk of a man without the venomous words and bravado to hide behind is truly nothing to be scared of anymore.
“You’re so much smaller than I realized.” You say it with a breath of relief, any fear or anger that was left behind for him in your soul replaced with pity. You can walk away without regrets or words you wish you could’ve said, because you know now it’s a waste of your peace. Maybe one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive, even. Not today, but someday.
You walk away with no grievances left, back in the direction of the lighthouse with a new purpose and ready to take the path you were always meant to. Back to the home you’ve always had resting inside of the one you love.
Jay stands with his back facing you, staring off into the expanse of sea in front of him. His shoulders ease as you step closer.
“You’re back,” he says with saccharine happiness. He takes your hand in his and presses your fingers to his lips.
“I am,” you respond. You kiss him with your whole soul, incredibly in love and unafraid of what will come next.
“Babe! The new issue is here!”
You open your eyes to the sound of Jay’s words. You could barely doze off when he was so excited to grab the mail this morning. It was only delivered a few minutes ago, but of course he has to check for the newest spread of Otherworldly in your mailbox. To his happiness and your shy pride, your name’s plastered in almost every section of the photography credits.
Convincing your boss to let you work for the magazine from your hometown turned out to be easier than expected. With his happiness from your newfound inspiration, it seemed like you could take pictures of algae for all he cared and it would be a hit in the magazine’s eyes.
You weren’t the only one who could take credit, though. Jay’s name was also included in some of the photos, his insight into Aewol’s cuisine and new sous chef position at Park & Co providing more than enough influence for your photography. The lighthouse would always be his priority (aside from you), but his second love of food could not be kept at bay any longer.
He opens the magazine to the first page that features your photos, the centerfold being of Jay’s original recipe for hoedeopbap. “It looks even better in print,” Jay says, his face three shades brighter staring at the meal.
You giggle and wrap your arms around his middle, peeking your head out from the side of his shoulder to look at the pages. “It’s really good, isn’t it?”
“Some of the best you’ve ever done.” He turns in your hold to press your chest to his, kissing your forehead in the process. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Actually, getting lucky is how we got this.” You take his hand and rest it on the curve of your stomach, fifteen weeks peaking out from under the midriff of your tank top.
He laughs and presses his lips to your cheek. “I love you.”
To your surprise, peace was easier to find than you had expected. Confronting what you ran away from all those years ago feels like a distant memory, the pain of the past a part of another reality. There are no monsters that creep in the shadows or secrets to keep locked behind closed doors.
All that remains is the ease that comes from a life filled with nothing but love and happiness, as weightless and freeing as a lantern floating through the sky.
“I love you too, Park Jongseong.”
@junekissed (thank for beta-ing also june!! ilysm) @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss
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