#b's end of summer blurbs

[bbnibini]

Okay, I got rid of my queue and scheduled posts. This is the last one; the illusion of my online presence is now gone. Hopefully when I post again, it's gonna be the CYOA or an update about it. 🥲 (Or that Solomon card summary I owe which people might not even need anymore akfjdk)

I'm really excited to publish it but I'm also kinda dreading it 'cause yk it's a tedious update when you needed help from a few people to make it happen. 😭 (shoutout to everyone helping me out rn you're all really neat c: )

[wandasaura]

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒

༊*·˚ dom!wanda x soft dom!natasha x reader

summary — when wanda and natasha decide to add a third party their marriage, they don’t expect to form a romantic connection with you. they especially don’t expect for you to hate wanda.

warning(s) — essentially a sugar baby dynamic to start, enemies to lovers with wanda, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, eventual mommy kink, shameless smut, aftercare, fluff galore. additional warnings are provided in each chapter. men/minors dni

au — wanda and natasha are ceo’s to the most successful law firm in the world because who could ever argue with them

PARTS — completed.

(1) the one you reached for [ 8.6k ]

(2) lovelorn and nobody knows [ 13.3k ]

(3) linger like a tattoo kiss [ 12.2k ]

(4) it was never mine [ 13.4 ]

ONESHOTS — parts will be added as written

(a) my face in a red flush [ 7.1k ]

(b) burning brighter than the sun [ 6.4k ]

(c) see what’s under that attitude [ 7.1k ]

(d) two people understand each other [ 5k ]

(e) too in love to think straight [ 7.4k ]

(f) love is a ruthless game [ 10.8k ] +

(g) the best thing thats ever been mine [ 7.2k ] +

(h) song in the car [ 5.5k ]

(i) you are in love [ 4.5k ]

BLURBS — parts will be added as written

(i) end up dreaming instead of sleeping [ 1.2k ]

(ii) cruel summer [ 2.1k ]

(iii) you can hear it in the silence [ 1.5k ]

MOODBOARDS — parts will be added as made

you are in love

[featherandferns]

F.W.B. (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warning: drug use; sex (protected; oral; p in v)

word count: 9k (o god)

blurb: friends with benefits (phrase) - a friend with whom one has an occasional and casual sexual relationship; no feelings attached.

The first time it happened, it was after a kegger.

Sunset had turned dusk on the beach. There had been the vague smell of smoke from the bonfire, sticking to everyone’s clothes, and beer, liquor and marijuana. Cigarettes and cider. The Boneyard was a free for all: Kooks and Pogues and tourists alike. If you wanted to let lose, maybe have a dance and shotgun a few beers, then you could. If you want to catch-up with your friends, make the most of the summer, then you could. And if you wanted a quick hook-up, be it a fling or otherwise, you could. That was usually the way JJ leaned. It seemed tonight, you had leaned that way too. That was how you had ended up in bed with him.

Now, you balanced on one leg, leaning against his door for support, wrestling on your trainer. You were already dressed.

JJ was watching you from the bed.

“You do this a lot?”

You frowned and looked up from your foot.

“What?”

“Like, do you hook up with people a lot?”

“Why would you ask me that?” you asked, somewhere between offended and confused.

“Just making conversation,” he shrugged.

JJ leant over to grab papers and bud from his bedside table, preparing to roll. His arms flexed when he did. It was already hard to remember how they felt wrapped around you; pulling you closer, tugging you nearer.

“Making conversation by asking if I’m a whore?”

“Woah!” he laughed, meeting your gaze again, wide eyed. “I never said whore!”

“What else could you mean?” you say, going back to tying your shoelaces.

“Just wondering,” he mumbled. When you looked back over, he was concentrating on laying the bud evenly in the papers. Sighing, you stood back on two feet.

“How about you?”

JJ looked up again, brows furrowed in question.

You held back your smirk, putting on an overly sweet, gushing voice as you went, “I bet you get like so many girls, JJ. Oh my God.”

“Alright,” he chuckled, going back to his rolling. “Touché.”

“That’s what I thought,” you grinned.

It was still dark outside. The crickets and owls made a symphony of the banks. Mosquitos hovered around the lamp that was on, having snuck in through the cracked open window. There wasn’t anybody else at the place. You’d followed JJ back to what you assumed was his house about an hour and a half into the kegger. Sighing, you glanced around the room and debated whether to head straight home or go back to the kegger. People would still be hanging around: it wasn’t too late. JJ hadn’t offered for you to stay over and you hadn’t suggested it. You knew that that wasn’t how these things worked. You didn’t mind that.

“You want a hit?” JJ asked, holding up the now finished joint.

You considered him a moment. Bare torso, abs proudly on display, basking in the orange hue from the bedside lamp. Hair messy and damp with sweat from the forehead, which still held a sheen like a freshly waxed board.

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking perch on the foot of the bed.

Crossing one leg under the other, you watched as he lit up and took a long drag. Taking it from him, you did the same, the vapour gently dissipating before your eyes. The smell consumed your senses, the drug slowly taking effect, mellowing you out. Handing it back, you rested back on your arms and took in his room.

“Where’re your parents?”

“Huh?”

“How come you got the place to yourself?” you wondered, looking back to him.

“I don’t. Not really. It’s my friend John B’s place,” JJ said. “I’m just crashing here.”

“John B…John B…Why do I know that name?”

“He goes to the same school as us,” JJ told you. That was something you’d come to learn when you first started talking to him, earlier that night. Gesturing with his free hand to his hair, he added, “brown hair? Kinda long?”

A picture came to mind, of someone you vaguely remembered from one of your classes. The name seemed to match the face well. Angular face and sharp cheekbones. Tanned skin and the strange memory of a bandana, always attached to him one way or another. You nodded.

“Ah, yeah. I remember.”

“We’ve mostly been hanging out here for the summer,” JJ said, taking another hit.

“Doing what?”

“Surfing. Fishing. Odd jobs to fund the necessities.”

With the latter sentence, he smirked and held up the joint. You smiled back.

“So, I’m taking you as a live-by-the-moment sort of guy?”

“I don’t know,” JJ thought. He studied the joint a moment. “I guess I am, yeah. Like a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda guy, I reckon.”

“Ah,” you hummed. When he offered the joint, you gladly accepted, taking another hit.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you a planner?” he wondered.

You took one more hit and handed back the joint. It felt strange, how easy it was to make conversation, and light conversation at that, as if half an hour ago you weren’t as close as two people can get. You didn’t much mind, though.

“Maybe,” you said.

JJ laughed, shifting further up the headboard and messing with his hair. “You always this secretive?”

Giving a small laugh, you shrugged and sighed. “Maybe…”

“Well, I like girls with a bit of mystery,” JJ grinned suggestively.

You chuckled at that. Getting to your feet, heading to his bedroom door, you replied, “don’t get your hopes up, Maybank. I’m not much for commitment.”

“Hell, neither am I,” JJ agreed, almost joyously. He tipped his joint to you as if he were a Victorian gentleman, tipping his hat in farewell. “But I have a feeling I’m gonna see you around.”

Something about that made you pause. You raised a brow as if in challenge. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm,” he grinned cheekily, tongue pressing against his cheek.

The way he sat, half naked, confident in his skin and his charm: there are few people who hold that sort of aura around them. Noticing this, you began to smirk, eyes narrowing in something akin to suspicion.

“You’re a player, aren’t you? I bet you’ve got hoes.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t know me like that.”

“Maybe not,” you said, walking towards him again. “But I know guys like you. Yeah, you like the chase. The feeling of getting someone to fall for you, to be weak for you. The thrill it gives.”

“You psychoanalysing me or something, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t be much to note,” you replied easily.

“Why don’t you try me on out? I know you wanna be friends,” JJ boldly said.

Licking your lips, you bit back your smile. Hands on your waist, you rocked on your feet in thought. The weed was giving your brain a nice buzz. Paired with the beer from the kegger (that had mostly worn off), it was a pleasant thrum running through your body.

You sighed, as if he’d twisted your arm and glanced around for a pen. When you found one (abandoned on the desk) you walked over to him and began to write on his forearm. He seemed taken off guard at first, before shamelessly looking down your top as you leant over him. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like there was anything to hide now.

“You didn’t get a good enough look earlier or something?” you mumbled. You clocked his grin in your peripheral.

“If only I could take a picture. Think it’d last longer.”

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Every Goddamn night,” he smirked.

You’d be lying if that didn’t stir your stomach in the most delectable of ways. There was a reason why you’d ended up in his bed and not somebody else’s.

Finishing off the last digit, you capped the pen and placed it on his bedside table. Then, you stole the forgotten joint from his fingers and helped yourself to a drag. He watched you, mild surprise written on his face, and then full-on shock as you grabbed his jaw, fingers somewhat firm as you guided his mouth to yours. Exhaling into his mouth, messily falling into a kiss, you smiled as you felt his body go slightly slack under you.

He wasn’t the only one who liked making people feel weak.

Pulling away, you smiled down at him. His lips were still parted, wet from your spit. The image of it stirred something inside you.

“Text me, if you wanna prove me wrong,” you challenged lightly. With that, you gently patted his face, turned and left his bedroom.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it a moment as you caught up with yourself. 

The smell of weed was weaker out in the hallway. It was also darker, with no moonlight flitting through any windows. Instead, wooden walls, adorned with picture frames. You took the time to passingly inspect them as you went to leave. An older man (bearded and broad) with glasses, and a woman with pale skin and dark, nearly black hair. Another of a man fishing. Several of who you could now confirm was John B, some of which JJ appeared in, alongside a brunette girl and dark-skinned boy. One photo of this consistent gang made you smile. Arms looped over one another’s shoulders, hair wet and body littered with water droplets that twinkled under the sun and camera flash like glitter. Dopey smiles on all their faces. Maybe around thirteen or fourteen. For some reason, the picture stuck around in your head as you left the house, starting your walk home.

The second time it happened, it was after midnight.

“Is this seriously a booty call text?”

JJ was leaning against the doorframe of the porch’s netted fencing. Looking down at you, as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced at your upheld phone, open on his text message. Your conversation thread was phenomenally short. Impressively short.

You up?

Who is this?

The best sex you’ve ever had.

“Knew it,” he grinned.

You frowned, befuddled. “What?”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had,” he sighed casually, stretching his arms out. You finally caught on and immediately rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?”

“How else would you know to come here?”

JJ’s eyes scanned your body, head to toe, then back again. You felt a zip run down your spine, but you didn’t want him to think he was winning. You wanted to hold onto your dignity for a little longer.

“There’s only one person who I’ve hooked up with who’s shameless enough to send a ‘you up’ text,” you told him, beginning up the stairs. “It was pretty easy to figure it was you.”

JJ rolled his eyes and started down the few steps to meet you halfway. Standing over you, blue eyes staring down, he gnawed on his lower lip, slowly letting his smirk shine through.

“Well, it worked. That’s good enough for me.”

His lips on yours was now somewhat familiar. You had a sense for how he kissed. Strong at first, all consuming, and then tender as if he were pulling back, easing off. Then stronger again, possessive even. It was captivating and confusing and messy. When his hands traced around your waist, lower over your ass, cupping just beneath to let his fingers sink into the skin of your thighs, just light enough to avoid bruising, you felt yourself melt into him. Arms looping around his shoulders, tethering around his neck as if threatening to strangle. Grunts and moans and heavy breathing as it all become shamelessly obscene. JJ stumbled up the stairs, tugging you with him, and eventually the two of you were on the porch. He seemed to have a vague idea of where to bring you because soon he was tumbling backwards onto a sofa, and you were being pulled down on top. You chuckled, somewhat breathless, against his lips.

You fingers found his hands that had come up to your waist, scratching at your skin, teasing at your t-shirt. Looping your fingers into his, interlocking them sweetly, you didn’t pull away from the kiss. Not until you took your strength to push his arms above his head, holding them down. You moved to better straddle him, feeling him against your thigh, hard through his shorts.

When he opened his eyes, he looked intoxicated and spent. Wet, swollen lips. Pink cheeked. Muscles straining as you held his arms down. You knew he had the strength to push you off, to break free from your hold, but something about the fact that he hadn’t, that he wasn’t, turned you on even more. The thought made you grind back against him, and you relished in his groan.

“Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Leaning down again, your lips found the nape of his neck. It began with kisses. Light and sweet, like a child planting dainty pecks on flower petals. Then, you slowly, sensually, and ever so softly, dragged your teeth against the skin. You felt him inhale sharply beneath you. The way the muscle running up his neck tightened, was as if he’d clenched his jaw. You smirked. Working on a hickey or two, you let him free his hands, body almost sighing in relief as he began to touch you again. Your ass, your waist, your legs. Lasciviously coming to your chest, thumbs circling the underside of your breasts. Dragging over your nipples, sensitive through the thin cotton. You moaned against his skin, feeling yourself clench. This was good.

“You wanna take this off for me, pretty girl?”

“You want me to?” you ask back.

“Why’s everything a challenge with you, huh?”

You could hear the grin in his voice, crooning and sensual. Something right out of a fantasy. You leaned back, sitting back on his waist. As you pulled off your top, his hands came to rest on your waist, fingers skimming the skin patiently. Once off, and tossed to the side, you bit your lip as if pretending to suppress your smile, watching as he took you in. You’d once been insecure of your body, the way any girl had, but you felt unashamed to admit that after sleeping with your first boyfriend, that fear went away. They didn’t care what shape you were or what size. The poor suckers are just so glad to be in a position where a girl is willing to sleep with them, that they have no complaints.

That said, the way JJ took you in, hands carefully inching up your body as if teasing you, cupping your tits with just enough pressure to make you sigh, head starting to tilt back to the sky…You felt like the prettiest girl on the planet.

“Jesus Christ, thank God for that kegger,” he mumbled as if in a daze.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then leant down to kiss him again.

From there, no more time was wasted. His shirt joined yours, somewhere on the porch floor, and as the susurrus of the late night-early morning wind rattled the netting, making some wind chimes attached to a far tree sing-out hauntingly, you ended up on your knees on the porch floor between JJ’s parted legs.

The grin that came to JJ’s face when his brain catches up is enough to light up the night sky. But as you go to finish tugging off his boxers, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait.”

Your hands halt on the waistband, eyes flashing up in concern. He’s glancing around, bare chest rising and falling a little more than natural, out of breath from the antics. Then, he’s handing you a couch cushion that he’d somehow found. You take it slowly, confused.

“For your knees,” he explained, nodding down.

You followed his line of gaze and do as he suggested, shifting yourself so your legs were no longer on the splintering floor. It wasn’t that you’d been particularly uncomfortable before, but it certainly felt nicer. There was something weirdly sweet about it and it made you smile.

As if in thanks, you planted a kiss to JJ’s bare inner thigh. Then another, and another, closer and closer. His boxers join the pile and you take your sweet time going down on him.

On the fifth time, it was tryst.

It was a humid night. The air felt thick with moisture, as if warning of rain tomorrow, and you felt like in the chateau it was ten-fold worse. The sex in the air probably didn’t help the clammy feeling that came over you. JJ seemed to notice your discomfort because, once you were clad in your underwear again, he proposed the two of you go outside for a bit.

On the grass outside was a bench, a little old and wobbly. JJ tossed some couch cushions and blankets your way from the porch, and you barely caught them, chuckling. Once the bench was a little comfier, the two of you settled on either end. JJ pulled out a joint, as per tradition, and lit up. The two of you passed it back and forth, telling dumb jokes and proposing dumber philosophies. The conversation eventually died down, as did the craving for weed, and you stretched out your legs onto JJ’s lap, lolling your head back to look at the stars.

The weed made you feel lax and mushy, and you watched as the sky stretched on for miles. Constellations appeared from thin air, twinkles so dainty and brilliant that it put you in a trance. You vaguely registered JJ lifting your right arm, guiding your fingers to his lips. He pressed kisses against them, one by one, and then to your palm. It’s this that caught your attention; your eyes flitting down from the sky to find his already watching you. Against your leg, you feel him harden slightly under his shorts. A part of you considers teasing him about it and cracking a joke, but the thought gets pushed aside. Instead, you shift so he can climb atop. He kissed up your tummy, over your bra covered chest, up your neck, leaving a hickey. You sigh and go pliant like soft clay. Your hands seemed to find home in his hair and you gently rake your fingers through the messy blonde locks. Kisses to your jaw. Cheek. Earlobe. Lips. Then the two of you are making out. It’s different than the other times; there’s no rush to it and no definitive place it will lead to. There just is.

When you eventually broke apart, JJ rested his head on your chest. Your fingers find home in his hair once more, teasing through some nots, beginning to braid some longer strands together. For some reason, you want to ask him why he is always at John B’s house, and never his. You want a real answer. But you don’t. You know it isn’t the time and he won’t tell you. What should it matter anyway? You’re just hooking up. You preferred it that way.

Commitment wasn’t something that came easy to you. There wasn’t anybody to blame, necessarily. Your parents were fine enough and no ex had severely scarred you enough to traumatise you from another relationship. But those relationships had never lasted long. They’d been built on rocky foundations and delipidated rather easily. Maybe that was what put you off. The feeling that it didn’t matter; that it would all end anyway, with their face becoming another blur in the crowd, and their voice a laugh which could be recognised anywhere. That you’d end up alone, and you never understood why.

“What’s your favourite colour?” you asked JJ, trying to find an end to your thought spiel.

“Blue, I think,” he said against you. “Like the water. Kinda mossy blue?”

“Aquamarine?”

“That’s such a dumb word,” JJ sighed. You chuckled.

“Okay, so not aquamarine. How about turquoise?”

“Just blue,” JJ told you. “A very specific blue.”

“Okay, JJ,” you chuckled gently and began to undo one of the braids you’d made.

“What about you?”

“Green,” you say.

“What kind?”

“Forest green. Like…deep, cosy green,” you explained. JJ hummed as if he could picture the colour.

“Nice choice.”

“Why thank you.”

The two of you fell back into silence again, save for the common sounds of the banks. It’s the softest you’ve ever been with one another. Usually, the moment never strayed from sex and flirting. Sometimes the odd word passed back and forth as you got dressed or shared a joint. This was different. You liked it.

“What do you do for fun?” JJ asked.

“I box,” you reply.

“You box?”

“Mhm. I’m on the team at school. Been keeping practise up at the gym throughout the summer,” you say.

JJ shifts so he’s sitting up, and he meets your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I dunno,” he said, chuckling a little. “I just had you pegged as a volleyball girl or some shit.”

“Like a tennis girly? With the little skirts and all?”

“You wouldn’t hear me complaining,” JJ couldn’t help but grin, laughing when you shove at his face. “Seriously, though. What kind of boxing?”

“Competitive,” you shrugged.

His eyes look pretty in the moonlight. You’d never really noticed before. It’s then that you realised you’d never properly seen him in daylight or spent time with him when it wasn’t night or dark.

“You on the team, d’you say?”

“Mhm. Second best.”

“Who’s first?”

“This bitch Samantha,” you muttered, making JJ laugh. “It’s not the best team but coach says he might be able to put me up for a scholarship or something.”

“You smart?”

You snorted. “God no. Thick as shit. But, if I can get into college on a scholarship, then it could be my ticket out of this shit hole.”

“You mean you wanna leave this paradise?” JJ joked, gesturing to the water. The falling-apart jetty and the horizon that had yet to warn of morning.

“Paradise on earth,” you mumbled the infamous tagline of the sign.

Sighing, you laid back down. JJ seemed to agree, resting on your stomach, legs tangled with yours.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you know that when you woke up, JJ’s comforting pressure wasn’t on you anymore. When you woke up, you were outside of the chateau, blinking against the morning sun, alone.

By the seventh time, it was a pattern.

It felt like you were seeing flashes of colour.

Clenching your eyes shut, your mouth was hanging open in silent, insurmountable pleasure. You hopelessly grasped around for some kind of purchase: the sheets, the headboard…You feel your hand being guided to someone’s head, and with that you knot your fingers through JJ’s hair. He groans at the pull. Blue. Somewhere inside of your empty lungs you find a moan, falling past your lips. It only spurs him on. Digging your heels into the skin of his back, just below his shoulder blades, you somehow drive him closer. Green. It’s not enough for him to be going down on you. It wouldn’t even be enough to have him in you. You need him in your veins, in your head, passing through every synapse and invading every molecule. You just need him, him, him.

Red.

When you come, it’s with a shuddering, hopeless, sigh of his name. One of his hands comes to splay across your stomach and hip bone, as if you had begun to lift off the bed and he was guiding you back down. The moans turn to whines and whimpers, lips trembling from the afterglow. Eventually, as your thoughts begin to come back to your head, you let out a small laugh, face burning hot. Lifting one hand to rub at your forehead, raking back your hair, you will your eyes open.

“Fuck,” you sigh through a chuckle.

Looking down, you see JJ falling back on his haunches, chest heaving as if he’d ran a marathon. As if he’d been the one being eaten out. The sight of him, wet lips and damp chin, a cocky grin gradually coming through, it makes you clench around nothing, driving your teeth into your lower lip. You coax him down to you by extending out your arm, smiling against the kiss, moaning quietly at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Best you’ve ever had?” he asks against your mouth, barely pulling back.

You swat his face away with a tired laugh.

Since that second night, he’d made a habit of asking you it every time. You’d made a habit in doing anything but to tell him the truth: that yes, he was. Nobody needed a JJ with an ego that big, not even you.

“You got some water or something?” you ask him quietly, flopping against the pillows.

“Sure,” JJ says, getting up.

The bed shifts as he walks away. There’s the faint sound of a tap running from another room. You smile to yourself and close your eyes, sighing. The bed dipping with his weight tells you he’s back, and JJ helps you sit up, handing you the glass.

“Thanks,” you mumble before taking several long gulps. When you’re done downing the water, you look to see JJ holding out a t-shirt for you. You chuckle and take it.

“I gotta pee real quick,” you say, routine as always.

He nods and watches as you get up from the bed, pulling on the t-shirt. It’s his, of course. Says something about Kildare County on the back: proud to be from the homeland. You make the familiar route to the bathroom of the chateau. As you go, you make sure to keep the t-shirt tugged down over your modesty. You and JJ had made a habit of you leaving the bedroom in clothes after the infamous run in with John B. Whoops.

Once done, you wash your hands and brave a glance in the mirror. The sight makes you want to laugh. Hair a mess – unruly and untamed – and some leftover mascara smudged under your lower lash line. Swollen lips, rosy cheeked, the beginnings of a love bite already forming on your neck. You want to laugh as a thought comes to your mind: you look like some common whore. Running the water and digging about in the cupboards, you wet your face and hair, finding a random comb and trying to tame some of the tangles. It’s a little better.

When you leave and head back to JJ’s self-proclaimed bedroom, he’s sat atop of the sheets of the bed, rolling a joint. Now wearing boxers, he sits lent against the headboard, one leg bent and the other extended out leisurely.

Sighing, you collapse in a heap at the foot of the bed. You feel him prod at your waist and you bat him away.

“You good?”

“Mhm.”

“How good?”

“Stop.”

“I’ll just keep asking.”

“I’m not gonna tell you you’re good in bed,” you say to the ceiling. JJ snorts.

“Why not?”

“Cause.”

“Cause?”

“Cause it’ll go to your head,” you tell him. You don’t hear a rebuttal (because he knows you’re right). You turn your head so you can watch him. He lifts the paper to his lips and licks it, sealing it shut. “Sides. I feel like it goes without saying.”

“What does?” JJ asks, now searching for his lighter in the mess that is his bedside table.

“You know what.”

The blank look JJ sends you your way tells you no, he does not. Sighing, you clarify. “The fact that I keep hooking up with you. That speaks for itself.”

When the penny finally drops, JJ’s face twists into the most cocky, proud grin you’ve ever seen, and you immediately want to take it back. You tell him this with a groan, tossing your head back, but he’s laughing and basking in the indirect comment you’ve just given him. The comment that he’s pretty God damn good in bed, to have you falling back in it so many times.

“How come you never ask if you’re any good?” JJ wonders. The flick of a lighter tells you that he found one.

“Cause I know I’m good,” you simply say. “And the fact that you keep inviting me to hook up with you also speaks for itself.”

“Can’t argue with that,” JJ mumbles.

You smell the marijuana the moment he takes a drag. Sweet and crisp and only slightly overwhelming. Leaning down with a groan, you begin to lazily search around for your shorts on the floor. Eventually, somehow, you find them, and from the pocket you dig out your cigarettes. You steal the lighter JJ had used from the quilt and light up, lying on your back once more.

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know?”

You open one eye and look at him. Exhaling out a breath of smoke, you ask, “are you seriously telling me not to smoke whilst you smoke?”

“Cigs, I mean. Gives you cancer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell the government,” you mumble, taking another drag.

“I’m serious. That shit is gonna kill you.”

You sort of smiled. Opening both eyes now, you take in JJ’s expression. You felt as if you knew him well enough to read his face. Something like concern lingered behind his relaxed demeanour. Sitting up, leaning towards him, you took another drag and exhaled it in his face.

“Well, now you’re gonna die too,” you grin.

JJ wafts it away and shakes his head at you. His smile tells you that he’s not offended. “It’s a good thing you’re hot.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” you fake gasp, hand coming to your chest.

“Wait, I thought that what’s all women were good for? Are you telling me women can do more than just be hot?” JJ plays along, gaping in mock horror.

You chuckle and break the charade. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continue to smoke, as does JJ. The floor is a mess. Piles of clothes – some yours and some his – mixed with shoes and hats and abandoned pairs of swimming trunks, probably still damp as he hadn’t hung them out to dry. Scattered around the room was empty cans and bottles. An empty box of condoms in the paper bin. As they catch your eye, a question comes to you.

“Are we exclusive?”

At first you wonder if JJ even heard you, as he doesn’t reply for a while. When you look over to see if he was off in his own thoughts, he’s watching you, as if you were the one who was supposed to answer.

“I don’t know,” he says noncommittedly.

“Okay, lemme ask it another way,” you mumble, putting out your cigarette on the windowsill ash tray. “Have you slept with anyone apart from me since we started hooking up?”

JJ looks away and out the window, as if he doesn’t want to answer. His jaw clicks tighter. You frown. Things suddenly feel tense, awkward even. It never had been that way between the two of you, not even after the first time you fooled around.

“Jayj?”

“Have you?”

When he asks, he’s looking you in the eyes again. There’s a bite to his words as if he’s proposing a challenge. But you’re not shy to talk about it.

“No,” you shrug. “No point, really.”

“No point?”

“Like, you’re not…terrible,” you eventually settle on, careful to avoid boosting his ego more than you already had that night. “And it’s easy.”

“Easy?”

“Are you gonna repeat everything I say?” you wonder sardonically, quirking a brow.

“Why’re you asking me this?”

“Just wondering,” you say, becoming uncomfortable as his tone seems to harden more and more. “Thought we should know who each other’s seeing and stuff.”

“Why? We use protection, it’s not like there’s any point,” JJ practically grumbles.

“Jesus Christ, it really isn’t that deep,” you half-laugh. You start to wish you hadn’t put out your cigarette.

“It’s not like you’re special or anything.”

And okay, ouch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re just fucking. You’re good in bed. That’s it,” JJ tells you in an even tone.

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline; waiting for this cold façade to break. It doesn’t. He holds your gaze, unfaltering.

“Seriously?” you ask, voice weaker than you want it to be.

JJ doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes one last hit of his joint before putting it out. Then he’s standing up from the bed.

“It’s late,” he says, looking around his floor. He finds a t-shirt (gives it a sniff and seems to think it’s clean enough) and pulls it on. Then he’s searching again, and you watch as he digs out your clothes, holding them out to you. It takes you a moment to catch on.

“Are you serious?”

JJ shrugs. “It’s late, is all. Not like you were gonna stay over anyway.”

Any humour is gone. You knew you weren’t going to sleep over; you’d only done that once on accident. That wasn’t what offended you. It was the way JJ had gone about it, like you were some nameless chick in his bed who he needed to sneak out before his parents came home…It made you feel dirty. It made you feel used.

Snatching the clothes from him, you get up and begin to change. JJ doesn’t watch. Instead, he kicks about things on his floor in some attempt of tidying. When you’re back in your own clothes, his t-shirt now in your hand, you make a point to toss it on the bed.

“Fuck you, JJ,” you mumble, heading to his bedroom door.

“What?”

“I said fuck you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” JJ snaps, glaring at you.

Something akin to a laugh comes from your mouth, but there’s a bitterness to your tone. “When you’re man enough to talk, lemme know.”

“Get out of my room,” JJ darkly says.

You shake your head. With a scoff, you tell him, “gladly”, and then you walk out of his room. The tears don’t come until you’re outside the house, as if the sting of the wind sobers you up to the situation.

For the eighth time, it was making up.

The house party some random Pogue had thrown was in full swing. Some Kooks had caught wind, naturally, and decided to join the festivities. For the most part, it was Pogues, with the odd, innocent tourist mixed amongst the lot. JJ liked it that way. He felt like he was amongst his people; could let his guard down more.

Kiara was sat outside on a porch swing with Pope, the two seemingly in light conversation. JJ wandered over with a beer in hand and snuck up behind the dark-haired girl. He grinned to himself as he suddenly grabbed her shoulder, shouting in her ear. She let out a yelp, swatting at him as he started laughing. Pope rolled his eyes, also a little spooked, and JJ gave a half-hearted apology through his laughs. He sat between the pair on the swing, encouraging it to rock with his heels dug into the dirt.

“How many are you on?” Pope asked, nodding down to the can.

JJ shrugged. “Who cares? It’s a party.”

“So this has nothing to do with you and your lover having trouble in paradise?” Kie wondered, voice teasing.

JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig. “She’s not my ‘lover’.”

“Hook-up?”

“Bed-pal?”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Alright, alright,” JJ groaned, waving away their synonyms. “Hilarious, guys.”

“What happened with that? I thought you two were hitting it off,” Pope said soberly.

“We were, I guess,” JJ admitted. He looked out to the garden with a sigh and then took another drink. “Doesn’t matter, though. It’s done now.”

“Done?”

“The ‘best sex you’ve ever had’ is just done?” Kie checked.

“Yep,” JJ said, flashing her what he hoped was an unbothered grin. He held up his can as if in cheers. “Use them and lose them, is what I say.”

“JJ—”

“No commitment, no sha-mittment.”

“Wise words, Aristotle,” Pope mumbled.

JJ finished his can in several large gulps and crushed it beneath his grip.

“Need a refill,” he announced. He staggered to his feet, swaying when he stood. He could see Kie’s concerned gaze from his peripheral and pointed at her - just. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’ll be sure to have the ambulance on standby,” Pope assured sarcastically, watching JJ walk away. He kindly flipped them off as he went.

“Assholes,” he muttered to himself.

The world was dragging, taking too long to catch up with him, and he struggled to find the kitchen. Had someone moved it? What the hell?

When he found himself in a hallway which he hadn’t yet been in, JJ knew he was both lost and hammered. Whoops.

“JJ?”

He spun around, blinking slowly and rapidly, all at once.

It was you, stood in a sundress, worn down with a grey zipper cardigan and trainers. You frowned at him.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“How much have you had?”

“Just a couple,” JJ said, shrugging. “What’s it to you?”

“It…isn’t,” you say, looking off.

JJ suddenly panics - scared you’re going to walk away - and he finds himself grabbing for your wrist. You make a move as if you’re going to take it from his grip, but then you don’t. He aimlessly guides you into a quieter room, where the music isn’t so blaring and the chatter of others doesn’t bounce of the walls. It happens to be a bathroom.

He locks the door and spins around, immediately feeling green.

“You okay?” you tentatively ask.

JJ nods, but that only makes it worse, and in a matter of seconds he’s darting for the toilet.

There’s something so wonderfully humiliating about throwing up.

“It’s alright,” you say, rubbing his back. He feels the weight of your hand move up and down against his damp t-shirt. JJ cringes into the toilet. So. Embarrassing.

“Sorry,” he gasps, preparing for more to come.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you mumble.

He hears you shift around and notices as you sit down, back against the wall. You’ve taken your hand from his back and instead have placed it in his hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly.

“Feel better?”

“Maybe,” he sighs. You nod and lift your arm to flush the toilet.

After a few more bouts of vomit, JJ’s sure there’s nothing left. He leans his cheek against the seat of the toilet, the porcelain cold on his skin, and watches as you get up and head to the sink. You find an abandoned solo cup and rinse it out, filling it with water and offering it to him.

“Here,” you say. He drinks.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to help.”

“Sure I did. If you died, I would’ve been the last person to see you alive,” you tell him, making him laugh.

“Nice to know your heart’s in the right place.”

“You don’t sound so drunk now,” you say.

“Thanks,” he repeats, less grateful.

He sighs and sits up, leaning against the bathroom wall. The room’s spinning less. His ears aren’t rining as badly. There are the remnants of booze blurring the lines between what he wants to say and what he doesn’t.

Someone tries the door and you yell at them to leave. JJ’s never heard you yell before. It sounds unnatural.

“I’m sorry for the other night.”

His eyes shoot open.

Looking to you, wondering if he misheard, he finds you’re already watching him. You’re fiddling with your knuckles, picking at some scabbing, probably the aftermath of training. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you box. You’ve always had an edge to you but picturing you fighting someone…The thought was sexy as hell, he was unashamed to admit.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, as if worried he hadn’t heard, and he comes back to reality.

“About what?”

“About the other night. About asking if we’re exclusive. Like you even owe me that sort of explanation,” you say. “We had a good thing going. It worked for both of us, and I messed it up.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. You sigh, taking his silence as space to continue, and you look down to watch your handiwork as you go on.

“I’m not great at relationships. I mean, I don’t think I am. Every single one that I’ve been in ends up in flames, so…Not the best track record.”

JJ watches as you sigh again, tossing your head back to stare at the ceiling. Your throat is empty of love bites and it looks foreign.

“I try my best in them. Try to be the good girlfriend. Fun and unassuming and pretty and funny. Present and thoughtful. I think I’m doing a good job, and then…Boom. Another one in the shitter. Guess I’m just the common denominator.”

“Denominator?”

“I’m the common thread,” you clarify, looking to him again. You shrug. “But, all cards on the table, I felt like I didn’t have to try with you. I never felt like I was needing to put on a show or think about things as much. Maybe it was because we were only hooking up, but there was never any pressure to be the better version of me. Maybe there is no better version of me. Maybe I just…am.”

JJ stares at you for a minute and you seem to hear back what you’ve said, cause then you’re cupping your face and laughing, embarrassed.

“God, that was so cringey,” you chuckle beratingly. “I promise I’m not high.”

“It wasn’t cringey,” JJ tells you.

Your laughter dies down. You don’t make a move to remove your face from your hands, though. It’s easier for JJ that way, to tell you the truth without having you watch him. If you can lay all your cards out, then so can he. Thank God for vodka, he thinks.

“My mum and dad weren’t the best role models,” JJ admits, clearing his throat. It feels raw after throwing up. “She dipped and my dad’s…a mess. It’s a lot and I won’t bore you with it all but…I just don’t do well with relationships. I barely do well with friendships. Half the time I wonder why my friends hang around with me, and the other half I spend wondering when they’re gonna leave. When they’re gonna realise that I’m nothing special, or important.”

“JJ,” you whisper, going to lift your head. JJ panics and dumbly shoves your face back into your palms. You let out a bark of laughter, and then start nodding as if in understanding. “Okay. Go on.”

JJ takes a breath, removing his hand from your hair.

“I hook-up with people cause it’s easy and there’s no strings and all that crap, and it makes me feel good. But you’re different to the other people I’ve slept with. You’re funny and witty and would say these really nice things out of the blue. You’d do nice things, too. Like when you made me mac and cheese one time after we’d fooled around cause I said I’d been craving it for days. Nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me. I wasn’t sure how to react.”

Here it comes – crawling up his throat. The thing he was terrified to admit. The thing he was so scared to tell you, that he threw whatever thing you had going down the drain, and then apparently let you believe that it was you that steered them off the road.

“We were exclusive. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else when I was with you.”

JJ doesn’t give you time to react or respond. The words are falling out of him now.

“I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want you to leave, and it freaked me out cause I’ve never felt like that with a girl before. All my God damn thoughts were about you, like I was brainwashed. Fuck – they still are! It’s like I wake up and think about it. Think about what you’re doing and where you are. Think about getting you off. Think about how you looked when I told you to leave. How fucking scummy that was of me.

But I got scared. I got scared when you asked me cause it meant we’d have to actually acknowledge that there was something more there, and that things would change, and that terrifies the shit out of me because when things change, it’s usually for the worst. You’d see the real me and my life and learn about all my shit, and you’ll see that I’m nothing good. And I just start thinking about when it’s gonna end. How I’m gonna mess it up, cause I always do.”

He catches his breath. The words hang heavy in the air. JJ stares at you. You still have your face in your hands.

He leans back against the wall and looks down at his fingers, twisting some of his rings. He slowly lets out a breath, pressing his eyes shut.

“Sorry. That was a lot.”

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Can I look up now?”

JJ can’t help but laugh. Looking to you, he quietly tells you, “Yes, you can look up now.”

When you do, JJ immediately spots the tears on your cheeks. His heart clenches. It’s a new feeling. Strange and unpleasant, though not for the reasons he thought it would be.  

“Not everyone leaves, JJ,” you say, wiping your face.

He shrugs.

“I mean it,” you affirm. He sees when an idea comes to mind, your beautiful face lighting up. “There’s this song I like. I guess it’s spoken poetry. It’s called Sunscreen. In the song, the guy says something. He says, ‘accept that some friends will come and go, but hold on to a precious few.’”

JJ frowns, unsure where you’re heading.

“And whilst I agree that you yourself have to hold on, there’s also the other person holding on for you. Sticking their feet in and telling you that they’re not gonna leave when things get just a bit tough. I mean, I feel like you and John B have been friends for ages. One of the pictures in the chateau is of you guys really young.”

“Since the third grade,” JJ quietly says.

Smiling back, you take a breath then say, “I can’t promise you that everyone’ll stay, but I can promise you that I want to. I want to stay, with you. I want to know all the ugly things and I want you to know the ugly things about me. Nobody’s whole and nobody’s perfect, and everybody’s shit scared of opening themselves up because the moment you do, you can get hurt. But sometimes to live, I think you’ve gotta get a bit hurt. So, I want to stay, but only if you want to me to.”

JJ slowly began to smile.

He did. He wanted you to stay. He wanted you to meet his friends and to watch him surf. He wanted to have you stay over and have the balls to be there when you woke up. He wanted to see you in the morning, eating breakfast, and after sex, spent and tired. He wanted to watch you train and box, and cheer you on and kiss the bruises. He wanted to know the things you hid about yourself, and the things that made you somehow imperfect. He wanted your smile and your dumb jokes and the way you like to have the control, the way you fight him for it. He wanted the way you made him feel and the reassurance just your company brought, that somebody wanted him too.

JJ wanted you.

“I want you to stay,” he said. He swallowed and smiled, properly. “I want you to stay with me.”

Your face glowed with your smile. Crinkles by your eyes and a slight girlish giddiness as you quietly laugh down at your hands, bashful all of a sudden. Bashful like you didn’t know that his dying wish was to be baptised in your spit. Like you didn’t get off on being on top; of having him weak under your spell.

“If I hadn’t just thrown up, I’d fuck you right now, right here,” JJ says.

You bark out a laugh, tossing your head back before smiling at him. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna toss me out on the streets after like a hooker?” you risk in a joke.

JJ rolls his eyes and tries to shove away the shame he feels for doing that. He knows it’s in the past now. Can tell by the way you bite your lip through your smile.

“Shut up.”

“Wow. Incredible come back,” you push. He laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m serious. Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The look in your eye becomes almost dark. There’s a quirk to your smile that makes his stomach clench and shrink. He gnaws on his lip. Somehow dragging his eyes from yours, he looks to the bathroom sink and cupboard. He forces himself to his feet and tugs it open, looking around for something – anything – that’ll get rid of the vomit taste stuck on his tongue. A toothbrush. Fuck yes. Maybe God doesn’t hate him after all. When you catch on to what he’s doing, you start to laugh. He quickly brushes his teeth and tongue, rinsing out his mouth.

“Seriously? Guys and their dicks, Jesus.”

“Shut up,” he gurgles, pointing at you with the brush. You laugh harder and JJ can’t help but smile. The best goddamn laugh.

Spitting out, he wipes his mouth, tosses the toothbrush to the side, grabs your hands and tugs you up to your feet. His lips are on yours in a second, clumsy and frantic, and your laughter doesn’t die off immediately. It does when he picks you up, lifting you onto the sink. You gasp against his mouth, somewhat caught off guard. Hands wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, JJ feels as you wrap his legs around his waist and tug him closer.

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling back. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy. You open your eyes slowly and smile, sweet. You’re so sweet. “I missed this.”

“Damn right you did,” you smirk.

There you are.

As you start making out again, there’s something deeper at play. His hands move to your thighs, working up your sundress, and your fingers tug at his hair in the most delicious way. He groans against you. He’s hard and desperate and horny and still somehow a little tipsy. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything about this is just…

“You gonna eat me out or what?”

The words, whispered right down his ear…JJ’s surprised he doesn’t come on the spot. Somehow, he finds his control, enough so to reply, “didn’t anybody teach you manners, princess?”

When you kiss, it’s teeth and tongue, and dirty and messy, and fucking delectable. JJ begins down your neck, over your chest, finding enough space on your collar bone to suck a love bite. It was driving him crazy, seeing your skin unmarked. You shrug off your cardigan and lean back a little, hands scrambling to not slip on the damp sink’s porcelain. You watch him as he makes his way to his knees, shoving up your skirt, and lift yourself off the edge of the sink enough for him to slide your panties down your legs.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him in a pant.

JJ’s eyes glance up to meet yours. Sees the way your teeth are sunk into your lower lip, a small smile adorning your flushed face. The beginnings of a love bite forming already. It’s the feeling of one of your feet digging into his shoulder blade, urging him to you, that spurs him on.

He takes his time eating you out. Savours the moans and bathes in your whimpers. The sinful sweetness of you on his tongue. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, trying to find some self-control. They’ll probably bruise. It’s a nice thought. It’s ephemeral, over too soon; you come with a near-silent moan, ankles locking around him, holding him against you. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“JJ,” you sigh, sounding desperate. He feels you shift and falls back on his haunches, wiping at his face. Licking his lips. Closing his eyes, he tries to level himself. He has to make it last, at least just a little longer.

The feeling of your hand prying at his shirt has him coming back to reality. JJ looks up at you, panting a little, and smiles lazily at the fucked-out look on your face. He helps you pull him to his feet, kissing you the moment he’s standing above you, smirking as he hears you moan from your own taste. You’re fucking filthy. And it’s only for him. The thought makes him desperate to fuck you.

It seems your mind is on the same track because your fingers start fumbling with his short’s zipper. He pulls away to help you tug them off, dragging his boxers with them.

“You got anything?” you ask, voice no more than a breath.

JJ scrambles through his thoughts and nods, shoving a hand through his damp hair and grabbing for his wallet; digging about with shaking hands, retrieving a condom. You take it from him and open it - giggling in a way that’s too sweet for the salaciousness of the moment - and put it on him, rubbing for longer than you need to. Somehow, he forces your hand from him.

“Can’t do that or I’m not gonna last,” he breathlessly chuckles before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your arms loop back around his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth, and JJ’s hands slip under your legs and pull you to sit on the very edge of the sink.

The moment he sinks into you, both of you sigh against one another, body’s singing as if in reverence. The sex is rough and rushed and rapturous. Your head rests on his shoulder and your moans fall straight into his ear, as if coming straight from God’s mouth.

And once again, it’s all over too soon. You finish first, JJ soon after, gasping against your shoulder, damp and clammy with sweat. As he fucks you both through it, slowly coming to a stop, your fingers thread gently through his hair, rubbing soothingly at his scalp. He rests in you for a while. The two of you slowly catch your breath, arms tangled around one another, a head on the other’s shoulder.

You’re the first to move, and you do so only enough to kiss him. Tender now. Almost loving. JJ sighs into it, stroking your back gently. The thought of having you near again…It’s almost like he has air back in his lungs. It’s a strange feeling, a bizarre and new one, but JJ’s no longer scared of it like he was before. How can he be when you’re right there with him?

Breaking apart, your foreheads rest against one another, and JJ braves opening his eyes. You’re already looking at him. The two of you smile at the same time, and you begin to laugh.

“Not bad, huh?”

JJ grins.

“Best you’ve ever had?”

“Oh shut up.”

[ddejavvu]

stepdad!aaron request perhaps

it’s summer and reader is in and out of the pool in the backyard and steps inside to get a drink after a while still dripping wet with a clinging bathing suit and aaron tries to act innocent like he wasn’t staring at r through the window but he can’t help it i mean he’s only a man and how easy would it be to just slide the bikini bottoms out of the way and then r catches him staring (fantasizing) and calls him out and smut follows

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni. (cw: stepcest; don't like, don't read).

the plotline that you described was too long for a blurb so i just took the idea of him seeing her in her bathing suit and did what I could!

Aaron isn't paying much attention to the pool party outside, because there's work to do in the form of numerous reports on his desk. Witness reports that he needs to pair with their crimes, ME reports he needs to sign off on and tuck away into files, budget reports that he needs to stuff with receipts so that the higher-ups know that yes, they did need to stop for gas four times in Florida, the numbers aren't a mistake. His world feels like a never-ending mountain of paperwork until he hears the sliding glass door open, and he glances to his left where he sits in his office to find you sliding your wet flip-flops off onto the pavement before stepping inside.

You're dripping wet, but there's a towel over your shoulders that catches the runoff from your bathing suit. You grin sheepishly at him, muttering a quick, "Hey," as you reach for a packet of chips from the bowl on the counter.

"How's it going out there?" He asks, head suddenly grounded on his shoulders and no longer buried beneath paperwork. He leans back in his chair, all too content to see you take a seat at the barstool to munch on your snack before returning outside. You turn to face him in your chair and the cut of your bathing suit is on full display, wrapped tightly around your thighs and showcasing the droplets of water you'd missed with your towel that rest on the supple skin there.

"Jack and his friends are a handful," You glance back outside, "I wasn't even that hungry, I just needed a break from their splashing."

"I don't blame you," He chuckles, setting his pen down, work long forgotten, "Once you're an adult, splashing isn't as fun as it is irritating."

You grin at his comment, "Are you gonna get out there too, Aaron? I don't think I've ever seen you in swim trunks."

Briefly, Aaron wonders if you want to. Though he's not sure he'd look as good in trunks as you do in a bikini, so he might elect to just watch you from the sidelines.

"I don't even think I have swim trunks," He chuckles, "But I might sit out there for a while and get some sun. Garcia says I'm inside too much, and that I need a tan before I turn invisible."

"She's a smart woman," You laugh at the imagery, "Come on, Aaron, take a break and come sit in the sun with me for a bit." You stand, chips held in one hand and towel clasped in the other, "I need someone to help me reapply sunscreen, anyways, I'm not trying to get skin cancer."

He can't say no to rubbing lotion into your back.

"Alright," He stands, abandoning his paperwork and opening the sliding door for you, a hand on your back as he leads you back outside, "This bathing suit's pretty on you, honey."

You turn back to him and grin from where you're already popping the cap off of the sunscreen, chips set on the table beside the deck chairs, "I knew you'd like it. That's why I bought it, you always like me in red."

You barely give him any time to process your admission before you're turning to put your back towards him once more, holding one hand over your chest while the other tugs at your bathing suit strap to pull it out of its neat bow, "Can you re-tie it after you're done, Aaron? I can't reach."

He takes the sunscreen from you, glad you aren't facing him to watch him both blush and chub up beneath his thick jeans as he smears the sunscreen over your back and begins rubbing the substance smoothly into your skin, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll tie it."

[intrepidacious]

masterlist – b. barnes

KEY: ♡ personal favourite | ✧ new additions

please note that my blog is rated 18+, minors dni or you will be blocked <3

✩ series

time after time [ongoing] ♡ ✧ ↳ time loops ; post tfatws ; angst with a happy ending | 60k+

After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

✩ one shots

insomnia ↳ fluff ; sharing a bed | 1.5k

It’s 5am, and for some reason, you just can’t fall asleep.

first date, last night ♡ ↳ 40s!bucky ; neighbors ; mutual pining | 5.5k

You were supposed to go on a date tonight, but Bucky just had to interfere. It doesn't make any sense, either. It's not like there's anything going on between the two of you.

baby, it's bad out there ↳ set during hawkeye | 9.8k

Your best friend Kate has always been good at attracting trouble and this time, it’s starting to become your problem, too. Then again, what’s Christmas in New York City without meet-cutes and gunfire?

not even a little ↳ modern au ; roommates | 5.7k

The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it's a bad idea. And you have.

heal me, baby ↳ nurse!reader ; hurt/comfort | 2.6k

Your friendship starts with you cleaning up his wounds and Bucky paying to get the blood stains out of your couch. Something else starts, too.

set me free ♡ ↳ 40s! bucky ; little mermaid retelling | 6.4k

Once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold.

↳ sequel headcanon: being understood

blind roads ↳ bonnie and clyde au ; implied smut ; fluff and angst | 4.4k

"I'm James Bucky Barnes. This is my charming fiancée. We rob banks." (or, the Bonnie and Clyde AU literally no one asked for.)

↳ bonus drabble: no plan b

every dream gone ↳ pure unadulterated angst ; canon-compliant | 3.2k

After the events of Winter Soldier, Bucky slowly realizes just how much he lost after his fall.

↳ bonus drabble: homecoming

almost believing ↳ friends to lovers ; fake dating for a mission | 5.4k

You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

a million summers ↳ college au ; childhood friends to lovers | 3k

Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

about that night (the bugs and the dirt) ↳ witch!reader ; gothic vibes | 1.2k

You never talk about that night, and Bucky never asks. Even though he can’t help but suspect something is wrong.

✩ drabbles, blurbs and more

seven sentence drabbles (masterlist)

headcanons (masterlist)

moodboards (masterlist)

✩ return to main masterlist ✩

[crappymixtape]

summer mix // blurb request party

L E F T O U R L O V E I N O U R S U M M E R S K I N 🎶 drive over me, BETWEEN FRIENDS

REQUESTS OPEN • 4 OF 5 TAKEN // the sky is glittering with stars and the moon hangs lazy over steve's pool, the heat of the day still lingering on your skin as you sit down and dip your feet in. you can see steve's figure slipping through the turquoise water, just under the surface, trunks hung low on his hips and muscles pulled taut as he swims over to you. when he surfaces, he shakes his hair of the pool water, the ends stuck messy across his forehead and a grin tugging at his lips, "you gonna get in or what?" ( PARTY UNDER THE CUT! )

MIXTAPE INSTRUCTIONS keep in mind, these are steve-only asks! choose an emoji option below and send me the emoji in an ask here along with what details you want on each option! in order to make sure i don't leave any asks hanging i'm going to close my requests after i receive 5 of them – requesters will be tagged in their post when the ask is filled! xoxo *NOTE: please make sure you check each of the items i'll need for your ask! they're outlined below each prompt :) and let me know if you have questions! ♥️

🌘 BECAUSE OF YOU -> this ask is centered around my because of you series where reader ( eddie’s bff ) and steve start out enemies, but unite for eddie and fight upside down scaries then end up dating – my favorite series to date! 📝 PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR CHOICES FOR THE BELOW IN YOUR ASK: 1. timeline – when does this take place? ( are they a. enemies, b. angsty in between, or c. post-series / dating? ) 2. location or setting ( examples: first date? at steve’s post-upside down fight? makin’ out and robin or eddie cockblocks? whatever you cook up is great! 🤣 ) 3. any other details you want included! 💬 CHOOSE A PROMPT -> this ask is centered around you choosing a prompt from the linked list and i'll write up a little blurb about you and stevie boy! 📝 PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR CHOICES FOR THE BELOW IN YOUR ASK: 1. your prompt # from the linked list above 2. desired trope / genre ( smut, fluff, angst, enemies or bffs -> lovers, etc, etc! ) 3. any other details you want included! 💿 HIT SHUFFLE -> when you choose this emoji you'll get a song recommendation from me along with a little fic blurb inspired by the song featuring you and stevie ;) 📝 PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR CHOICES FOR THE BELOW IN YOUR ASK: 1. desired trope / genre ( smut, fluff, angst, enemies or bffs -> lovers, etc, etc! ) 2. any other details you want included!

i can't wait to get after a few lil blurby requests while i'm working on my manuscript ( and of course my tangled au ) – y'all are just the best 😩 i love writing for you and getting to read all your reactions and reblogs and unhinged tags 🤩🤩 so get in there and submit an ask! ♥️ ilysm!

xoxo, kate

xoxo, divider love to @cafekitsune!

[anadiasmount]

hugs and fireworks - christian pulisic x reader

hello everyone! i hope you are all okay and doing well! happy fourth to those who celebrate! in honor of it being the fourth I couldn't stop thinking of dad! christian. so here's a small blurb of how i'd think your holiday would be spent with him! i enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy 🥰🥰

here's my masterlist!

wc: 1.6k

“Do you remember when we met back in Austin?” Christian asked softly. You hummed and felt him cuddle closer to you. His head was on your chest while you stroked his bareback. “How could I forget? I saw you on the pitch and immediately fell over heels for you.” 19-year-old you would be gushing over excitement.

While growing up, you and your family didn't go out at all for the 4th of July. Sure you had a small backyard cookout and some fireworks but that was it. A USA shirt, or a red white, and blue to keep the “tradition”. You vividly remember the summer when you traveled down with your girlfriends to Texas for the 4th of July. A random trip that ended up changing your life in the most unexpected way. A flight booked from home, to your girlfriends and you pitching in to take a road trip from the tip of Texas to the south where you explored different beaches.

During your last night in Austin, you attended a USA soccer match, being fortunate to receive front-row seats. A certain brunette caught your eye, but the feeling of being embarrassed and rejected made you overthink plus, this guy was a pro, right? A sleeve of tattoos, sweat running down their body, the white jersey clinging onto their fit body for dear life. You were in a daze, mesmerized, noticing the #10 and PULISIC in the back.Of course, nothing would ever happen, so you and your girlfriends decided to go to a bar nearby and celebrate before heading off south.

While coming back from the restroom, you accidentally stumbled against someone, “I am so sorry, I did not see you coming,” you touched their shoulder apologetically but when you looked up and met a pair of brown orbs you blushed profusely. “It's okay darling, I didn't see you coming either,” it was him.

“Im Y/n,” you extended your hand making the first move, he smirked and shook your palm, “Im Christian, a pleasure to meet to meet you.”

Who knew sharing a couple of beers, small talk of his life and yours included would have you holding onto hope? Christian paid attention, he didn't just nod or hum then and there, he made sure to make you feel safe and comfortable, never overstepping by asking unsuitable questions. You didn’t do this, you were always shy and rather would sit and watch people than make the effort and meet someone, but with him, it felt right.

Christian didn't hide anything, explaining how he grew up in Hershey, his move to Europe, his parents being his biggest support to this day, attending state fairs meant the world to him, and that sometimes you have to take a risk if you want great things to happen. His words, not yours. You had not realized you sat in the bar ignoring the blaring music, loud cheers, and drunk people behind you, till the bartender gave you a ten-minute warning before closing.

“If I'm being honest… I don’t want to go back to my hotel right now… Would you care to join me for some late-night tacos? I know just the place here,” Christian spoke shyly, rubbing the back of his neck afraid you’d say no. “Who can turn down some tacos? Just hope you won’t disappoint me, Chris…” you said without thinking. Christian loved when you called him Chris, it just sounded like heaven to him. True to his word, you had enjoyed eating the delicious tacos in the taqueria. Later taking a walk to observe the Austin skyline, where your fings delicately brushed his. You shared your first official kiss there, his hands holding you by your waist, as you rested on his broad chest.

“We were just kids then… Now look at us now,” he replied looking up to you where you placed the softest gentle kiss on his forehead. “We’ve come a long way to be here today. All the sacrifices and distance but we made it work. And I can’t be more grateful to have the most gorgeous stunning wife and mother to my kids…” he kissed over your wedding ring and the small bump. You had surprised him after putting your almost two-year-old to sleep. Christian was overjoyed and crying happy tears, immediately sinking to his knees and promising the baby he’d do everything in his will to protect them and you. His little family.

“I'm so fortunate to have a man like you, Chris. We fell in love at such an early age and I would’ve thought you’d get rid of me, but you've never stopped loving me. You're the best dad to Axel, to me, and to those around you. There’s not a day that goes by where I sit down and think of the what if’s, but you're always there to get rid of the overthinking. I feel safe and at home with you,” you let out the smallest tear and Christian giggled.

“Oh stop it! It’s the pregnancy hormones,” you gushed as he continued his teasing. A sound from the baby monitor had Christian up on his feet going to pick up Axel from his room. When your boys came back, Axel was rubbing his eyes with his chubby hands while Christian brushed back the small coils of curls. He was the spitting image of him, anything Christian did, Axel was doing so already. Despite following his dad, at the end of the day, he was a momma's boy.

“How about we spend the 4th by the beach, take some food, small fireworks, and just spend time watching the fireworks at the end of the night?” Christian asked to which you clapped your hands excitedly. “Your family is still coming right?” you asked while prepping some hamburgers for Christian to grill. He came back inside holding Axel by his hip, “Yes they should be here soon!”

The doorbell rang and you greeted his family with a small hug, urging them to come inside while you continued to finish cutting the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. Christian, his dad, brother, and brother-in-law spent their time outside grilling while you, his mom, and sister, and now Axel stayed inside until it was time to leave. His sister explained how excited she was to begin riding after her pregnancy, and his mom talked about the upcoming vacation you all took.

After setting the table you all ate and shared stories over the years, Christian sitting next to you holding your hand or from time to time grabbing your thigh, feeling his nails rake up and down against your skin. Once the sun started to die down, you all took the shortcut walking down to the shore, “Careful baby,” Christian spoke to where only you and he could hear. Christian always was cautious but now that you were pregnant again, he had to make sure you weren’t overworking yourself.

You sat on the sand, feeling the cool breeze and sand beneath you. You watched and heard your son Axel let out waves of giggles when the waves crashed against his little chubby feet. Christian spun him around from time to time and held him close. You took a small photo, relishing the moment before your family turned into four. Of course, Axel followed him when they began to play a small game of football there. They pulled out the small fireworks or sparklers, Christian was being protective again, holding his son and showing him how the sparkle was, it was generally safe so you weren't worried. Your son just clapped his small chubby hands and made happy noises that brought Christian to smile.

You helped his mom set up some chairs after the tide began to rise just a bit, and changed into a knitted sweater. “Look at you two,” you laughed when you saw Christian come up to you with your son. You gave Christian a towel and some change of clothes, while Axel cuddled against your chest. You covered him with a towel and a blanket protecting him from the cool air. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, especially after the day he had.

When Christian returned he sat next to you, but it wasn't long before he asked you to lay your back against his chest. He peppered small kisses along your bare shoulder due to your top, and kissed your temple, just giving you love and affection. That’s one thing he won't ever hide, his love and adoration for you.

Christian chatted with you quietly about tomorrow's plans which included a boat ride for the entire day, promising to watch Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time with you after coming back home. His fingers drew small shapes on your bump, while you rested your head gently below his chin. “Boy or girl?” you asked knowing the answer right away. “Girl. I want to dress her up in small cute dresses and learn to do her hair. But I’d be equally as happy if we had another boy. Just hope we won't drive too crazy,” he joked.

You heard the chime of the fireworks as they began. You saw a small streak of light before it burst into a pit of different colors. Christian watched as your eyes glowed as you observed the different fireworks. He’d rather watch you because you were the only person to make his chest feel like it had fireworks lighting inside. “Kiss me,” he said abruptly. You blushed but did as he told, brushing your lips into a small but passionate and intense kiss. “Won’t ever get enough of these soft lips,” he said smiling across your lips. He rested back, humming when your hand reached up and played with the hair in the nap of his neck, “I love you, princess.”

“I love you, Christian.”

[honeysuckleharringtons]

You are invited to:

Hello, lovely people of the internet! I promise I am not dead, just been going through some things lol. On a happier note though, I am so excited to share this little thing with you all!

Idk why but like a week ago I just randomly decided "hey, what better way to celebrate summer than by writing about a certain bat wielding bisexual who takes up every crevice of my mind?" and thus...

IT'S TIME FOR SUMMER CAMP!

The Main Attractions:

Happy Camper - fluff requests

Looking to cuddle with your muse by the fire? Then look no further than "Happy Camper"!

Bow and Arrow - angst requests

Maybe you're looking for something a bit more ouchie? If so, "Bow and Arrow" is right up your alley!

Dear Diary - headcanon requests

Want a quick summer read that's short, sweet, and to the point? Just ask for "Dear Diary"!

I Want S'more:

Cabin Fever - domestic!au

Wanting to spend the day at your vacation home with your muse? Then "Cabin Fever" is the way to go!

Counselors' Lounge - work!au

Do you love a good colleagues to lovers moment? You should ask for "Counselors' Lounge"!

Talent Show - celebrity!au

Have you or your muse always wanted to be a rockstar? Then look no further than "Talent Show"!

Macaroni Necklaces - royalty!au

Perhaps you've always wanted to be treated like the queen you are? Well, "Macaroni Necklaces" should be just right for you!

"Ghost Stories" - fantasy!au

Looking to add a supernatural flare to your blurb? Just ask for "Ghost Stories"!

Past Universes I'm Happy to Write for Again:

Single Dad!Steve

Brew and Me!Steve

Cat Dad!Eddie

Star Boy!Billy

Any other fics you'd like to see spin-offs of, really!

The Rules:

🎒 This event will run through until July 31st! - okay, so the flyer is a bit misleading... but i promise, August will have something just as exciting as this event!

🎒 Send asks to designated blogs! - i think it goes without saying this is a courtesy to me so i don't get posts confused. but if you have any questions about my other blogs, or really anything related to requests, be sure to check my pinned post or just ask me!

🎒 Please be respectful to the blogger and to others! - remember to use your noggin when putting in requests! treat people with kindness always!

🎒 Please be understanding when putting in requests! - i am simply one person who has ebbs and flows in life. while i try to get to everything in a timely manner, i do get overwhelmed sometimes. please be courteous and gracious when putting in requests. i promise i see all of you and try to get to everything as quickly as i can!

Thank you all so much for bearing with me these past few months! I know there are things you're all still waiting (cough cough, B&M ending) but I am thankful that you've all been very patient. I am so thankful for each and every single of you. I wish you all a very happy summer! ⛵️🧡

mutuals! feel free to spread the word if you'd like! no pressure as always! ❤️

@dungeons-are-too-cold @writer-in-theory @rupsmorge @serenity-lattes @stevesmunsons @appocalipse @reputationmunson @sadgirlml @gay-prentiss

dividers: @strangergraphics

[witchersoldier]

Blonde Sun

jj maybank x latina!reader

SUMMARY: sharing songs in a hammock leads to a confession from you.

WARNINGS: none, just fluff. and my rushed/not proofread writing.

WORD COUNT: 0.8k

AUTHORS NOTE: I just finished writing this. It's just a little fic/blurb based on a song (I linked it in the fic if you want to listen), but I still don't know how to feel about it. Hope you like this, either way.

The cool late afternoon breeze hits my skin, soothing the heat from the first part of the day. Soothing the heat from where his skin touches mine, so absentmindedly.

Spending time laying in John B’s hammock with JJ quickly became my favorite thing to do on summer days. We talked about anything that came to mind, or we didn’t talk at all, just enjoying each other’s company. Being around him was calming, even with his unending energy and hotheadedness. So, yes, I always looked forwards to our hammock days.

Today we decided sharing songs from our playlists would be the hammock activity, as he decided to call. As his song was finishing, I looked for one from my playlist -which is mainly made up of Taylor Swift’s and 5 Seconds of Summer’s songs.

“Your turn,” JJ reminded me, “but enough with the Taylor Swift. You’re not showing me your playlist, you’re showing me her discography.” He said with his eyes closed, but a lightheartedly judging facial expression.

“You’re one to talk, I’ve been listening to Chase Atlantic all day.” I pointed out, still scrolling through my playlists, searching for something different. He muttered some incoherent defeat phrase that I didn’t bother to pay attention to. “Ok, I think I found just the one. This song is from my birthplace, different enough for you, right?” JJ opened his ocean eyes, even more beautiful now in the fading sunlight. Having him look at me, his attention undivided, felt like a blessing.

I was so head over hills for the blonde man in front of me, for as long as I can remember. But, as cliché as it sounds, I was afraid of saying something and that leading to our falling apart. And I’d rather have him as a friend for the rest of my life, than not having him at all. There were times I almost told him about my feelings, but something, or someone -whose name started with a J and ended with N-, always interrupted the moment.

“What are you waiting for? Hit me with it.” Right, the song sharing.

“This song is called ‘Sol Loiro’ by Armandinho”

As the song went on, I couldn’t help but hum to the calm rhythm, all the while looking at JJ for his reaction. It was stupid of me to feel a need of approval for this song. But it reminded me of him and the way I felt for him. It was important to me and I hoped, someday, it could be important for him too.

“Nice rhythm, it’s calming. I’m curious: what’s this song about?” there. He asked the question I was hoping he wouldn’t. Why couldn’t he just say he liked it and move on? I know I would talk with my heart about this song, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for this just yet. Or maybe, just maybe, like in the song, this is fate. “It’s a love song.” I said simply. The last simple thing I’d be saying for the next minutes. It seems to have caught his attention enough that he stopped caressing my calf, looking at me with slightly tilted head.

“He’s singing about how he needs to be close to his other half, says they’re his island, like a safe place in the storm that life is. He realizes he’s made mistakes in the past, and tries to right his wrongs. Says that everything that’s ever happened lead to them being together, that they’re meant to be. That they’re his fate. But most importantly, he calls their partner the source of light and joy of his life. That’s why it’s called ‘Sol Loiro’, it means Blonde Sun.” I ended, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. I don’t remember moving in the middle of explaining, but now we were sitting criss cross, closer than before, like we just gravitated towards each other.

“It reminds me of you.”

Silence. I glanced up just for a second to read his face, and decided to come all out to him because right now, looking into his soft eyes, it simply felt right.

“JJ,” I grabbed his hand in mine. I needed to feel his touch, just in case it was the last time. “You’re my Blonde Sun. You bring light to me even on the darkest of my days. It’s you I see lighting the path. When I look at you, at your eternal blue ocean eyes, I feel like you’re the final destination, like you’re it. My fate. And I love you, JJ Maybank. I love you even if you don’t feel the same.” I felt my eyes tearing up, so I blink the tears away so I can see him clearly. His ocean eyes were teary as well.

JJ’s lips opened and closed a dozen of times. His warm hand gripping mine, as if he let go, I’d vanish into nothingness. Looking down at our hands intertwined, I began to worry. And when his hands left mine, I felt frozen in place, until he cradled my face and kissed me.

His lips captured mine in a sweet kiss, an action that spoke the words he couldn’t say. And this kiss was everything I have ever dreamed of.

[bcolfanfic]

hi there! love your young vets au and all the blurbs and headcanons you’ve been putting out lately. just wondering if we could get any more info about wyatt and the period of time where he runs away from home and gets into a bad spot? love the story you’ve created around these ocs and i’d love to know more about this part of the story!

wyatttttt. my poor bub. when i say rachel and i whumped that poor kid to nearly death…

once you see a read more line- cw for assault and human trafficking. dead dove do not eat. wyatt is about 23 during all of this, it’s the summer after he finishes college. wyatt pinterest board.

• has a huge fight with ev that comes to “you are NOT my dad” blows and just. bolts. runs and hides from conflict like he has since he was little. just takes it a step farther this time.

• the most heartbreaking part of it all for me at least is that he got *so* close to the bucks. when he gets in this guy’s car and everything goes south he’s all of 15 minutes away from their house.

• after everything it took to get to wyoming from new york he just wanted to get to his uncles and micah, have a little breakdown about how he’s pretty sure his parents hate him after that big fight with ev and then go from there.

• but he’s so tired of walking and it’s getting dark and he’s a little lost. and this guy is super nice when he pulls over to ask if he needs a ride somewhere. so wyatt doesn’t see any reason to turn him down.

• when they’ve been in the car for about ten minutes that’s when how nice he seems starts to really creep wyatt out. guy is making comments on his appearance, asking personal questions and just making him really uncomfortable.

• wyatt fishes around to get his phone out of his pocket but that’s when the guy pulls over and he gets that real bad ‘something is terribly wrong’ gut feeling and. freezes. has been a freeze response guy since he was little. since his early memories of helen’s abusive partner between nash and ev.

• the guy does. some stuff to him in the car and when that’s over makes wyatt give him his phone.

• drives him to what is *not* the bucks’ house. tells him he seems like a troubled kid, might be better off here then whenever you were going.

• and everything is *screaming* in him to turn tail and run but he’s so scared and still in freeze mode even though his body is moving just. tells himself to go along with it for now and he can figure out getting out of there in the morning or something.

• but then it turns into weeks of people in and out of this guys house and wyatt just tellin himself to go along with it for now and figure something out in the morning.

• out of that house back at home in new york and down the road at the bucks’ everyone is. distraught. ev and helen thought when he bolted outta the house he was just gonna drive around for a few hours and come back but he was just. gone.

• sawyer has an incredibly hard time too. struggles with emotional regulation and changes in routine/structure as his and his big brother being gone makes all that 100x worse. sleeps in ev and helen’s room more than even the younger kids do. cries himself to sleep in there telling them he wants his brother back <\3

• this is alluded to in my recent josie naomi blurb but josie also has a hard time because micah obv loses it. and seeing her baby brother like that and not being able to fix it really eats at her.

• micah ends up taking some time off from school (he’s younger than wyatt and still in college) and when he has the little breakdown that triggers that he calls his sister before their dads.

• then the weeks in that house turn into months and wyatt is doing worse by the day but. also kinda starts to resign himself for this situation. has very little window to the outside so it’s easy for him to be convinced that his family stopped looking for him even though that is incredibly far from the truth.

• thinks being in this situation must be punishment for something- for being a bad son- for being bad.

• and if that’s his cross to carry so be it.

• the thing that triggers him getting out of there is- disgustingly someone bucky knows and tells about the situation with their friends missing kid realizing the kid in question is at a certain house he frequents.

• piece of shit doesn’t do the actual right thing by going right to the police or anything like that. but next time he’s at the house he gets a real good look at wyatt and is like. god damn this kid is in bad shape. he doesn’t want to be here. shit.

• still a horrible horrible person but. when hes alone with wyatt outright asks if he wants to be there.

• wyatt just looks at him all wide eyed and doesn’t really say anything. but the guy tells him he’s gonna figure something out so he can get out of here, just trust him. when i say jump you gotta jump kid, yeah?

• goes about it so fucking recklessly though. just outright tells the guy that took wyatt that the people looking for him are closer than he thinks- he should let him leave, gonna be more trouble than it’s worth to keep him here till they find him etc etc.

• but this guy isn’t new to this business either so he’s like yeah alright thx. got it. and just starts making plans to leave wyoming with him and go elsewhere.

• which his buddy gets wind of and feels sick about because god damnit i told that kid i was gonna help him get out of here and now that’s. not happening.

• panics and goes over there real angry telling him he shouldn’t do that, asking what he gets out of dragging this kid around, look at how much weight he’s lost and the shape he’s in. what are you gonna do if he gets sick or worse.

• which like before does 0 to actually help the situation (dude call the fucking cops) because the guy just lashes out again. gets into a huge fight with his buddy asking if he’s a fucking narc, you sure haven’t bitched about a damn thing till now you think i wouldn’t bring you down with me? etc etc.

• but as terrible as he is he is starting to panic about everything. has a you want that kid out of misery, fine moment- goes full break glass in case of emergency mode and sets the house on fire with him in there. (hence those pics on the pinterest board)

• the fight with his buddy was at like 10pm so this is all happening in the middle of the night. wyatt was /asleep/ and wakes up to a burning house he’s been trapped in.

• but sheer force of will to live, he gets out of there and just starts running. much later down the line no one really understands how he managed to make it to the bucks in the dark not knowing where he was going and as severely hurt in various ways as he was.

• he does get there though- just about collapsing on their front porch- but there at long last where he’s safe.

this got very very long but i actually wanna Write him showing up at the bucks so. ::eyes:: stay tuned ig. and thank you for being so sweet <3 these OCs are rachel and i’s babies and i do love them so dearly. makes me feel good that other people do too.

[cupcakeinat0r]

Do you have any tips on how to not make a hcs or drabble fics so long? I feel like I always go too crazy and don't know how to shorten anything. I want it to feel satisfying to read with out leaving out too much but it always ends up being like 4k words by the end. I'm trying to half that.

Your professor Miguel fics are what are inspiring me to write for Miguel again but I'm not ready to jump into anything super long winded.

Hi nonnie! <3

First, let me just say *sniff* MY fic inspired you?! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 pls, omg, what an honor!!! I’m so glad!!! Thank you for reading 🫶And please, take your time!!! Smart move if it’s been a while.

Advice down below! There’s a lot because I simply do not know how to shut up <3

Word counts, *sigh* what a debacle.

A majority of my work are drabbles or one-shots, and I’ve gotten comments/messages asking for “longer works!”, but then my first series that had long chapters didn’t do so hot. Its confusing! It’s really hard to gauge what’s too long or too short for the crowd, so in the end… I base it off of personal preference! Sometimes I feel like just writing out a quick lil blurb, and then there’s times when I sit down, take my time, be in the story, and write every little detail down. As a reader, I personally LOOOVE it when writers go into detail, but as a writer… I know it’s a workout to do! Easier read than done (see what I did there?).

And as for hcs, personally, EYE like it when people make em long, but to each their own!

Soooo If it’s a “short” work you’re after, than here are some quick lil tips I thought of.

1. Maybe cutting down on “excess dialogue”. What I mean is this:

They began with, “blah blah blah,” they said softly.

“Blah blah!” They responded.

All that extra stuff surrounding the actual thing that is said? You can do without it. Save word space by just doing this:

“Blah blah?”

“Blah.”

(But just make sure you hit enter on each line of dialogue so it’s easier for reader to keep track of who’s who!)

2. I would try instead of world building (describing the setting, colors, weather, etc.) to just stick to what’s happening between the characters. If you want it short, just focus on the characters and where they’re doing. Maybeeee include what they’re wearing if you really want to, but other than that, it helps keep it to the point when the “scene” is all about the exchange. For example:

X met up with y and they smiled. The greeted each other before going inside the cafe to catch up.

Rather than:

On a hot summer day, x walked along until they got to the cafe they were supposed to meet y in. They found them at the entrance, waving at them excitedly, “hey Y!” They began. “Hey X!” They responded. They both walked into the quaint, cozy cafe and ordered their usuals.

See what I mean? Instead of writing every single thing out, just trust that the reader will assume. Like… we know they said hi to each other… and ordered coffee… at a cafe… it’s the obvious things like this. There’s no need to type it out unless they’ve said/done something out of the ordinary OR if the extra thing you’re typing out actually adds to the plot/development. This simply helps with getting to the point (Again, this is if you’re wanting to do a short Drabble, one-shot, blurb, etc. . I, however, don’t do this when it comes to chapters or fics. I write every single detail out, idc!!!)

3. Don’t be afraid of time skipping. For instance (using my example from above), does the part where they talk in the cafe contribute anything to the intended plot? Any character development? Does it reveal anything new? No? Skip it. Go to the part where they go home and, idk, make out or something (if it’s a smut you’re writing lmao).

I know it’s easy to get distracted and start describing every little thing, from the color of that leaf that fell to the ground, to the twitch of the character’s eye or something, I do it all the time, which is okay! You don’t have to go back and hit delete! Just keep going, don’t break the flow. You’re writing it for a reason, so don’t let the worry of wanting to provide something “shorter” or “easier” for readers get in the way of your creativity. It’s not worth compromising. I know we writers say it to ourselves religiously, but there’s is no such thing as “too crazy”. That’s a myth.

But please also keep in mind that your wellness is priority. Do not try to force any writing for the sake of time or demand. I gave you some tips on shortening a teensy bit, but do not worry if your writing is ‘too much’, there’s no such thing in my opinion<3

Thank you so much for sending this in and I hope this was at least a little bit of help! And please, tag me if/when you post your work! I wanna support you!!!

Have a nice day/night, luv xoxo

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Heist pt. 3 "Draco's Study"

For those who have been enjoying my blurbs on the Draco/Theo/Granger pieces I've been drabbling about with. Here is part three. I've somehow managed to get this and two classes worth of assignments done today plus my daughters parent/teacher conference.

So, thank you for your encouragement and inspiration.

...

Draco stared down at the announcement placed in the Daily Prophet.

B. Nolan Flamel throws Gala of the year! An event meant to raise money for more affordable education and leave guests talking about it for years to come!

“Why does he leave the B?” Theo mused as he and Granger crowded around Draco’s desk. “If he hates his name so much, why doesn’t he just go by Nolan?”

Theo turned away and walked over to the book case that took up the entirety of the west wall of Draco’s study.

“He probably think it makes him seem more refined.” Granger snorted but kept staring at the paper, her eyes scanning the articles surrounding the ad. “Oh, look!” Draco lifted his eyes to catch her own light up. “Flourish and Blotts is having a summer sale.”

“Try to focus, love.” Theo drawled and snatched a random book from Draco’s shelf. “Here,” He sent it sailing toward her with the flick of his wrist. Granger reached out a hand and caught it, effortlessly. “Something to satiate your appetite for now.”

Draco laughed and pointed to the announcement. “This is how we’ll get in to case the house.”

Hermione opened the book, her eyes running over the pages. “It’s invite only.” She said and then grimaced at the contents. Draco grinned as he took in the title embossed into the spine. How to Master the Magic of the Bedroom. A book, he knew, to have a lot of illustrations.

“It was a gift.” He settled into his office chair as her scrutinizing eyes glanced up at him.

She snapped the book shut, but didn’t return it to the shelf. “I have an invite, but how will everyone else get one?”

“You have an invite?” Theo whirled on her.

She sniffed. “Of course. We did end things amicably, after all.”

“You’re friends with a man you dated, who has been known to traffic humans and whom you are currently in the process of taking down.” Theo threw himself onto a sofa. “Seems healthy.”

“Would we have an invite if I didn’t?” Granger’s voice oozed a sickly sweetness that belied the narrowed gaze she settled onto Theo.

“Well woo for you. But, how are the rest of us supposed to get in?”

“What rest of us? You two have yet to help me assemble a team.” She opened the book back and and began to flip through the pages. There was a new determination in the way she browsed the book that kept Draco’s grin in place.

“First of all,” Draco interrupted. “I can duplicate them.”

Granger looked up from her book, her cheeks slightly flushed. “You can? These invites are really quite difficult to replicate.”

Draco shrugged. “Tea?” He asked before flicking his wand, summoning a platter of tea cups, a tea pot and raspberry scones. “Regardless, I think I can only successfully duplicate three before the charm starts to weaken. We’ll need more.”

“We also need a distraction. Someone or something to distract Flamel from the rest of us casing the place.” Theo added as he walked around the room. His friend, Draco had noted, was pacing, which meant that he was nervous. Or otherwise, mentally preoccupied.

Draco nodded as he poured them each a cup of tea. “A celebrity amongst the crowd. Milk?” He asked Granger, having no idea how she took her tea. He took his sweet and creamy, while Theo took his bitter and overly steeped.

“Yes, but no sugar.” She slid onto the edge of his desk and continued to peruse the book in her hands. “Do you know of any celebrities that would be willing to attend?”

He took a sip of his tea and lifted his brows at her. “No, but you do.”

She shut the book and Draco smiled as she slipped it into her charmed purse. It sunk into the bag with ease, disappearing into an abyss. “You mean Harry?” Granger picked up her cup of tea and blew on it.

“The chosen one himself.”

While Draco had expected her to scoff and suggest anyone else, he was pleasantly surprised when she looked at him, thoughtfully.

Her warm brown eyes penetrated into his skin, though he knew she had sunk into herself. He learned, over the past two days, what Theo had meant when he had called Granger ‘interesting.’

She rambled, endlessly, whenever her brain simply could not hold all of her thoughts inside of her head. She would spew them into the atmosphere and down the, all before falling calm and quiet once more. And in that quiet, she would dive deep into her inner dialogue. Her replies would become short, but her stare never turned vacant.

As if she were indeed there, while also somewhere else.

“Some form of astral projection,” Theo had called it yesterday while musing over the behavior or Hermione Granger.

Draco had called her a bit mad but Theo had only shrugged and pointed out that really, weren’t they all a bit mad?

He had to agree, as he stared and stared at the witch he had once incessantly insulted. The witch who now believed in her morals so heavily that she had deemed that illegally screwing them over was well worth it. With him and Theo Nott, no less. Two rich, high class wizards who didn’t need the pretty things they stole. Yet, they did it and they enjoyed it. Sure, their pockets grew a bit fatter, but that wasn’t why they became thief’s. It wasn’t the reason for their rebellion against society.

“Do you think he’ll actually do it? He doesn’t have to know about the job, obviously.”

“No,” she said the word slowly. Pulling it out like honey as a flutter of a smile pressed into her lips. She set her cup down. “No, it’s brilliant, actually.” And she leapt from the desk.

“Potter?” Theo leaned onto his elbows and looked over the couch at the two of them. “Really? I mean, I get that he’s really into catching bad wizards and all that but this sort of work falls right into the morally grey area that Potter seems so against.”

Draco continued to sip on his tea as he watched the exchange. Still thoroughly amused by it all.

“Actually, Harry is passionately opposed to the dark side of magic. The in between is pretty much where I, his best friend, has lived for the majority of her life.”

Theo pushed his lower lip out. “I thought I was your best friend.”

But Granger frowned with a little shake of her head. “I don’t know how to answer that right now.”

“I wish you would.” Draco said just before biting into a raspberry scone.

She only glanced at him. “What time is it?” She checked her muggle watch. It was 10:30 in the morning. “I’ll need use your Floo.” She said to Draco before heading for the door of his study.

“Fine, I’ll accept Potter. But I draw the line at Weasley!” Theo called after her as she swept from the room.

Draco lifted his tea and said around his bite, “Here, here.”

Theo fell back onto the couch with a heavy sigh but lifted his wand into the air. The cup of tea Draco had poured for him drifted over and landed, gracefully into his waiting hand.

Draco bit, again, into his scone and watched his friend rest his cup onto his chest.

“I can feel your eyes on me, Draco.” He said as he gazed up at the ceiling. “You think we’re missing something.” He pauses and Draco merely swallows his bite and settles his eyes back onto the paper. “You think we need a demo guy.” He sighed, exasperatedly, as if Draco had replied. “I can see how it would come in handy, obviously. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that we also need an Inside Man.”

Draco leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea.

“Fine.” He exhaled, sat up and chugged his tea. “I’ll go find our Demo guy.” He shot a speculative look at Draco. “But you had better go and get our Inside Guy.”

Draco frowned at his friend as he turned to leave. “Wouldn’t Potter be our Inside Guy?”

Theo froze and glanced over his shoulder. “He can be both the distraction and the Inside guy, I suppose. Let’s wait until Granger returns and see what he says.”

“Theo,”

Theo groaned and spun to face Draco. “What?”

“There’s a nonzero chance this will work.”

The look of annoyance vanished and Theo’s face morphed into one of jubilant determination. “It has to. I’m going all in.”

[jjpopeclub]

BITTERSWEET SUMMER || JJPOPE BLURB.

pairing : jj maybanks x pope heyward

summary : jj always knew that he loved pope. but in which way ?

warnings : none. slight angst. just two boys kissing in the beach.

trope : bestfriends to lovers

fandom : outer banks

— “ When were you going to tell me? ”

Pope felt the anger and sadness in JJ’s voice, and he was unable to say and describe how much it hurt him, how much the disappointment in his friend’s eyes touched him, deep into his soul. JJ was a nice person, but also a sensitive one. There was something terribly comforting and warm in him but when he wasn’t smiling, it hurt. For everyone, but especially for Pope. They had always been close, always together, it was them until the end of the world, them until someone could separate them but it would never happen. That’s what they thought, that’s what JJ thought.

On the warm sand of the beach, the heat remained even if the sun was partial, the sky was covered with stars, and the first constellations appeared. They shared a beer, the rest of the Pogues away. It was just the two of them.

— “ When were you going to tell me, Pope? Why am I the last to know? We’re best friends.”

— “This is John B, your best friend. Not me.”

— “If it’s him. What are we? ”

— “We are like brothers.”

— “No, brothers don’t hide things from their brothers. Brothers tell each other the truth from the beginning, they don’t learn it from someone else. Why do you treat me differently when I make you my priority? Man, tell me, what have I never done for you? I’ve always been there. You just need to call me, and I’m here. Even halfway around the world. So why am I the last to know you’re leaving?”

Pope blamed himself, he blamed himself for removing JJ from the truth when he deserved to know like everyone else. But JJ was different, more surprising. Pope didn’t know how his friend would take it. He tried to buy time, not lie to him but it was the same anyway.

— “I’m sorry.”

— “No, you’re not, Pope. But it doesn’t matter, I don’t blame you. I would never blame you. I don’t want to argue with you. You’re going to leave, and I don't want you to leave with the idea that I hate you. I don’t. I can’t. ”

— « Man, are you hugging me?»

JJ had smiled, and surrounded him with his arms. He could not blame him even if it hurt him, even if it made him want to throw his frustration on something. It hurt his heart more than he thought, more than if he lost John B. He loved them both. But maybe not in the same way, and he can’t say in which way he loved Pope. Or maybe he just refused to admit it.

— “ I feel like you’re leaving me.”

— “ I’ll always be here. Like you said, you call and i come. Always?"

— “Always. But that’s my sentence. Don't steal it from me? And then it’s always you who needs me.”

— “You feel the need to protect me!”

— “That’s how real brothers behave. I’ll always have your back, even if I have to die.”

— “You’re getting sentimental. Do you have feelings for me, bro?»

Pope laughed. And JJ had drunk a sip of beer before resting it on the ground. His eyes were lost in the sea. The waves were calm, too calm and silent. It was like the world was going out.

— “Do you think it’s possible to love someone you know in a different way ?”

— “Are you talking about Kie? I thought you gave up! ”

— “I’m not talking about her, Pope.”

— ” Then, who ? ”

— “A guy”

— "Oh man, if you’re… well if you’re gay, that’s totally okay?”

— “I’m not! I’m just asking.”

— “Do you want to try something?”

— “What?”

— “Kiss me.”

— “What are you saying?”

“I’m helping you! Besides, we know each other. It’s not awkward.”

— “ Just because I know you, it’s even more embarrassing, man.”

— “ You’ve seen me naked hundreds of times, but you can’t kiss me? What's that ? ”

JJ was starting to lose his mind. Damn, he was already confused enough and his friend had to push it even further. It was about to explode.

— “Close your eyes, JJ.”

The blond had closed his eyes and Pope had kissed him, putting his cold and soft lips on those of his friend. There was still sand on the mouth.

— “Open your mouth. A little more.”

He had slipped his tongue against his own, directing the kiss into something more sensual. His saliva fell into JJ’s wide open mouth. It no longer looked like an experimental kiss but something more serious, like a romantic kiss. Pope had laid down above the blond, pinning him on the sand.

— “ This is what you wanted? This is what you dreamed of? Did you like it? ”

— “Are you really going to leave?”

— “I’ll come back. And you’ll wait for me?"

— “ What if I meet someone, and if I forget you unintentionally?"

— “ I will forgive you as you have always forgiven me."

— “This is my first time kissing a boy, and I want to do it again.”

— “ Anything you want, right now."

Pope had kissed him again. This time, JJ had played, licking his partner’s tongue several times.

— “We should stop before someone sees us.”

— “ You’re afraid of being seen, but you kiss me like you want to be seen. That's my JJ. ”

— “ I don’t really control how I feel.”

— “ And, it's okay. Me neither. How do you feel?”

— “ I don't know. I feel a lot of things. Too much is going on in my head, Pope.«

JJ’s voice had become weaker, as if he was going to crack. Pope had embraced him. He knew that the blond had gone through so much, his tense relationship with his father, the shitty adventures of the Pogues, juvenile crimes and now he had to deal with his departure and his own feelings.

— “I can’t believe you’re really going to leave.”

— “I’m sorry.”

— "Don’t apologize. It makes me feel like you’re going to stay.”

— “Are you going to be okay?»

— “Yeah. I'm a big man. Now that we’ve kissed, what are you going to do? What does that kiss mean to you? I need to know. Does that mean anything between us?”

— “I believe so.”

— "What does that mean?"

— “ That you are mine. And that I am the only boy you can kiss. The only one, you listen?”

— “What if I kiss someone else ? ”

— “It won’t happen, trust me. I wouldn’t let my boy think or kiss someone other than me.”

— “ Say it again.”

— “Tell you what again ?”

— “I think I want to hear you say I’m your boyfriend.”

— “ Will it make you happy and smile at me ?”

— “Yes.”

— ” Hey guys, what are you doing? Let’s have fun together!”

It was John B.

— “We’ll talk about it. And, Pope ? »

— ” Yes. What Can i do for my pretty boy ? »

— “ Don't kiss other boys. »

— “ Or what ? You will kill them ? ”

— “You know me, Pope. Don't make me angry.”

— “ Already jealous ? ”

— “ I prefer to warn you. ”

— “ I will never kiss another boy. Not when mine is the prettiest. ”

~ ~ ~ ~

©jjpopeclub's works. do not copy.

[sunflowerbecca]

summer nights ✰ sarah cameron

summary: a blurb about falling asleep with sarah after a long summer day with the pogues

notes: this is my comeback to writing???!!! this was so cute to write and i’m so happy with how it turned out!

warnings: none

requested: yes/no

by anon

“hi!!! can i request a reader x sarah cameron where the two are hanging out with the pogues and end up falling asleep together bc they’re in their own little world. just like a lil fluffy thing? :))”

word count: 320

The setting sun reflects off the water, shining pastels that settle softly across the Chateau. The group of friends are gathered by the roaring campfire, illuminated by the orange colour seeping out.

Kie, JJ, and John B occupy a set of camp chairs as they share a joint, passing it back and forth. Pope and Cleo are roasting marshmallows over the smaller flames. Sarah and you are cuddled together on a blanket on the ground.

The rough texture of the grass peaks through the thin material but neither of you pay it any mind. It’s a colder night, everyone donning their sweaters and huddling close. You shift closer to Sarah as a breeze floats through the yard.

“Does anyone want this s’more?” Pope asks, breaking the silence.

“Oh dibs!” Kie calls out, raising her hand.

“Hey! I want one!” JJ whines.

“There’ll be more, just wait your turn.”

“Fine.” The boy mumbles.

As Pope stands to give Kie the snack, Sarah turns slightly to you.

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah Sar?”

“I’m tired.”

“Me too.” You reply quietly, fiddling with her hoodie strings. The other girl groans quietly before moving to lie her head on your chest.

“What?” You laugh as you press a kiss to her forehead.

“I don’t want to get up though.”

“Then sleep here.”

“Here?” She questions.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Mmm,” She pauses, “Okay.”

Sarah shifts again for a moment before relaxing, her eyes slowly drifting closed. You remain still for a while as you study your girlfriend. The way her hair is messy from being on the boat or how the light from the fire flickers across her face.

Soon enough you let your head fall back too. The ground is hard beneath your head so using one arm you pull up your hood to cushion it slightly. The background noise of your friends talking and the fire crackling slowly fades away as you fall asleep too.

[vilevanessa]

Brendan x FEM You

Keeping Tabs

about: a total made up OC who crushes on and stalks you and admires you with the help of your online presence

tw: no smut sadly

just yapping

Let Thy Be Known: all characters and plot lines are 100% fictional and imaginary! They have no place in the real world.

plot summary: you’ve been hating on this boy who you think hates you all just the same, so inherently and insidiously so, except on a fine day you discover he has been nothing but infatuated. with you

actual TW: disappointing writing actually will never measure up to my favorite authors

lord give me strength to write romantically, with commitment, cohesively (impossible ask)

———————-

Gray. Gray sands on the floor pattern, where your white sneakers unfortunately lie. You wish you weren’t here. You wish you had someplace better to be, something better to be doing. Alas, your reality is as cold as the relentless breath of the AC against your bare arms.

You wish you were in this room alone.

Moving your gaze from the floor, past the crisp paper whose white shines albeit too brightly under the illumination of the lights, you face it. The pair of eyes belonging to the boy you were cursed enough to have the pleasure of knowing. Of meeting.

Whether or not you’d have liked to know him, Brendan is not a boy to make his presence be unknown, unintentionally.

His continued gaze on yours only makes you falter. It only makes you want to persist against the looming shadow of fire that is him. How could something burn so darkly, and scorch as painfully as fire itself, was beyond you. Now, with his name on the roster of your class list, there were to be no way of turning back the time.

Some people really make you understand the difference between the winter and summer, all by their presence and subsequent absence. The haunting death that trails even in your waking dreams. Their presence still felt even in their disappearance. Separated by time and distance— the memory of their silhouette will never cease to come back.

And what is Brendan, but peeled away, an insecure boy who wields the power of reflection? Looking into his eyes only makes you want to disappear, and yet, stare back defiantly into the abyss that should only belong to him.

You will never understand him, at his core. You think you can recognize what constitutes his character, his truths. He speaks a language that you can understand, almost wholly. But it’s a truth that you frankly, never want to live with. It is not who you are.

Of morals standing upright and tall, of the things that people deserve and don’t equally, of the truest compassion showed through punishment and repentance. People of the world like Brendan, do believe in a system so linear, and so right. How ideal— if only you could believe in a path so seemingly straightforward.

Why me? You wonder. Why are you so hopelessly fascinated with me, of all the people in the world you know, Brendan?

The bell rings, or Brendan and his loser friends make a move out of their chairs. You don’t remember, because the details are never important. You only celebrate his leave, and fear his arrival.

——————————————-

Until, in a fever dream one day, you end up stumbling across a channel on the platform messaging app Telegram. It is denoted with one insidiously concise letter. B. 27 members are in the channel.

You don’t know how exactly you came across such a rare find. Out of sheer curiosity and a wondrous disregard for social norms of privacy and boundaries, you press the “Join” button.

Nothing on your screen would have shocked you more. You see his full name, the default name setting saved automatically in your phone system. You acknowledge that you just trespassed on such a jarringly private space belonging to a boy whose business you did not want interfering with even more. So why on earth do your eyes fail to believe what they see?

Sent in a sickeningly short chat blurb, with only a photo and a caption accompanying it below. It is a picture of you, with your ex best friends that you vaguely recognize, her height towering over you. She is a gay and a trans female, nodding down to you as she places her head on top of yours as you snap a mirror selfie in a public bathroom. It is indeed, a scenery that you recognize. Slapped onto the photo is a poorly hidden, rather obvious caption in black and white Instagram font: “she’s adorable methinks.” You pull your shocked gaze to your own face, masked and cute - it was a relatively old photo from the pandemic years, God, did he really stalk your account from its beginning? - and you have to say, you agree.

You just never thought you’d live to see such a glaringly disruptive concept come true before your eyes. You were about to scroll down some more, when suddenly a text message pings from the bottom of your phone screen: “You are her.”

Coming no less from the B for Brendan, in the mass communication fan channel of his.

Immediately, you scramble off his creepy channel that seemed to serve a purpose of documenting his apparent affection for the idea of you, determined to erase the digital footprints you must have left on his channel to enable him to know that you have found him out.

Changing your profile picture,

ok im tired lol may or may not finish this anyway it was from a literal dream i had yeah dont connect the dots thank you :”(

[possessingtheproperspirit]

Fic Author Self Rec

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Thanks for tagging me, @kay-elle-cee <3 I found this very hard haha as self-reccing goes against everything I hold dear, but nonetheless here we are...

the way you left me || At nineteen, James vanishes, and Lily breaks.

I wrote this in a fevered rush, and I think it's the one I'm most proud of overall. Not entirely sure why, which doesn't lend itself to this sort of post, does it? It's sad and sweet and painful and all the things I like writing most. Angst with a happy, hopeful ending is my sweet spot.

2. Uninvited || With NEWTs looming, friends gather at the Potters' cottage in Wales to study and let off steam during the Easter holidays of their seventh year.

What's not to enjoy about pining, a Welsh beach and a 'there was only one bed' scenario? It includes this sentence, which I feel nicely encapsulates the gang:

They ate their fill; Mary tried to teach them a strange Muggle game called cricket, which James had a natural affinity for (“ever the fucking sportsman,” Marlene jeered from her position on the opposing team); Sirius tried to lead a team into the shallows, forgetting that the waters around the British Isles were frigid at the best of times; Remus built a bonfire in a bid to stop said team from developing frostbite.

I mean, what more can I say?

3. Forget-Me-Not (cw: sa). ||. At eighteen, Lily Evans fell - and fell hard - for James Potter, a classmate she had never given much thought to before. He seemed as into her as she was into him, so why is it, when she starts a new job almost a decade and a lot of water under that particular bridge later, that her new boss - James Potter himself - doesn't seem to remember her at all? A Don’t You Forget About Me by Mhairi Mcfarlane AU fic.

I wasn't going to include this one, but I guess I changed my mind? I'm proud that I a) finished this fic at all, and b) hopefully managed a very fine balance in dealing with an extremely sensitive subject. It was all a very personal writing experience and I guess I'm glad it all came out okay in the end.

4. A Lesson in Communication || There's a rule at his school that teachers are strictly not allowed to date the parents of pupils. James has never minded this rule before...

This largely started because it so amused me to think of James wrangling children at sports day. This is one of those stories that was supposed to be a quick thing, and then morphed into a nearly-12k monster whereby the misunderstandings piled up on top of each other like delicious pancakes. Yes, if anyone asked a straightforward question this fic would be about 500 words. Yes, my favourite bit is still Remus' reaction when he realises James' mistake.

5. The Price We Pay || As the summer before their sixth year comes to an end, Sirius, Remus, Lily and James consider how things may be different on their return to Hogwarts. When Sirius finally breaks free from his toxic home, it should be a fresh start - but unfortunately, it's the start of a spiral that will threaten the foundations of friendship, and change their lives irrevocably.

Last but not least! That blurb could do with updating, really, given that now – 27 chapters in – we're into seventh year and rather a lot has happened, haha. Still, when I started it, I didn't think I'd write more than maybe five or six chapters, and then it sort of grew its own little legs and scurried away from me. You know, how writing does? It's my original baby fic and I love it so but I also go through phases where I worry it's all utter bollocks, so it's very much a rollercoaster of a relationship. There is something both wonderful and challenging in writing a canon multi-chap, especially in this fandom where there are so many amazing canon multi-chaps. We battle on.

What a strange, therapy-esque post this ended up being 😅

Tagging (please feel free to ignore if you don't fancy it/have already done it) @wearingaberetinparis @mppmaraudergirl @clare-with-no-i @thequibblah @isahorcrux