#jen's drabble

[yourauthorjen]

꩜ᝰ.ᐟ YOUR CAMERA ROLL AS JOAQUIN TORRES’ GIRLFRIEND

⋆⭒˚.⋆

ever since joaquin had gifted you your first camera, the candid of photos never stopped. at first it had been a quiet gesture, something wrapped in brown paper and twine, placed beside your coffee cup one sleepy morning. you’d blinked at the unfamiliar weight of it in your hands, then up at him, confused and still halfway tangled in the blanket you had stolen from the couch.

he had bought it at the downtown store— the exact same one you had been eyeing ever since you saw it. now, you just stared down at the compact silver body of the camera, the weight of already fitting in your hands before you’d kissed him hard. the camera was pressed awkwardly between your chests, and he’d laughed against your lips, but your happiness was unmatched with your newfound joy to pass time.

after that, you took pictures of everything.the pattern of rain on the window, the soft curve of joaquin’s jawline, the way his face scrunched up in concentration when he read his file reports. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was your favourite photo subject— but he never complained. just let you click away, sometimes posing, other times just watching you with an amused expression.

"your camera’s gonna get tired of me," he teased one evening as you were sprawled out on the floor, trying to frame a shot of him stretching on the couch, hoodie riding up slightly, dim lamp casting golden light over his skin.

"that's a big fat lie," you replied stubbornly, "and we both know that."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

but that didn’t mean joaquin didn’t take his fair share of photos too.

at some point you had caught him fiddling with your camera when you had left the room, only to scroll through the roll to find several unexpected candids of you—you standing in front of a sunset, you shying away from the camera a hand covering your face, and several more of blurry polaroids of you all dressed up to go out.

he never admitted it though, just shrugged with a thoughtful smile on his face.

there were several more that night. you and joaquin had gone to a party hosted by a mutual, but several of your friends were there. one of them had taken a specific interest in your camera and wanted to take a few photos. eager to get rid of the weight of it sitting at the bottom of your bag, you handed it over and dragged joaquin onto the dance floor.

though, somewhere in the middle of that evening with drunk, neon chaos, your friend had captured a few precious moments of you and joaquin. a few shots of you playing beer pong, a few of you swaying together to the music, and your personal favourite— joaquin with his hands cupping your face as you mashed your lips against the sweet and toxic taste of his, while your fingers clung to his shirt desperate for more.

he had saved that one, tucking it into the back of his phone case.

but you adored it. you adored his smug little grin when you tugged him closer to kiss him, to feel his warmth radiate against your body, and you adored that he got you that little camera to save all the love and memories that you had together.

you cherished every photo, hanging them up on a thin pieces of string with clothing pins, and attaching it onto the wall of your living room. and sometimes joaquin would stand in front of it, admiring the row of plastic films with a small shine in his eyes. you would join him, squeezing his hand before he spun you around and pressed his mouth to your hair.

"loving you, is the best thing i've ever done."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

didn't read the note on the polaroid picture, they don't know how much i miss you.

i wish i could fly, i'd pick you up and we'd go back in time. — taylor swift, the very first night

[pretty-little-mind33]

Robbie Jennings x fem!reader

Summary: You have the most embarrassing crush on your brother's friend.

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: both Robbie and reader are minors (15/16), no warnings except a reminder of soul-crushing crushes we all had in middle school lol

~ hope you like this 🫀anon! ~

When Robbie invited you over to his mother's shop for a study session, you had almost declined.

He had work and you didn't want to bother him, but when he'd overheard you complaining to your friends about not understanding your math test, he'd still offered. 

Afterall, in his words, "how could he let his friend's little sister fail a subject he can easily help her with?" and you were speechless. He'd left you in the hall with a wink and a familiar sinking in your stomach. 

So you didn't decline and now you find yourself sitting on a stool beside him, your math book open, tapping your pencil on the paper absentmindedly, as Robbie checks out Lindsay Marlings's assortment of fruits. 

"Are you tutoring now, Robbie?" Lindsay asks, her tone lightheartedly hostile as she leans her chin on her hand and he bags her apples. You try your hardest to focus on the numbers, ignoring how warm your cheeks have become. This feels humiliating. 

Robbie hums, looking your way as he nods. "Math help. Y'know I'm good at it," he quips, smiling at Lindsay and hands her the bag. "See you Monday," he says, successfully ending the conversation.

Lindsay huffs but leaves anyway and then Robbie's attention is on you again. "How's it going?" he asks, looking over your shoulder as you do your homework. You shift, moving your pencil so he can see and hold your breath.

You want to impress him. Robbie's arm reaches over your shoulder as he points to an equation. "This one's wrong," he says calmly. 

"It is?" you whisper, tensing up. God, this stupid crush is killing you.

Robbie nods and holds out his palm and you stare at it for a moment. His hands are as gorgeous as the rest of him. "Pencil?" he laughs, opening and closing his hand. You startle and hand him the pencil. 

You watch as he changes up the equation and you realize this was a stupid idea. You can't concentrate on math when he's standing so close to you. Robbie hands you the pencil again after having corrected your equation and then looks at you. He pauses, opening his mouth to say something when the words die in his throat and he ends up just staring into your wide eyes. You blink.

Has his eyes always been this blue?  

"Excuse me, love." You both hear the sweet voice of Mrs. Smith, your elderly neighbor and one of the shop's regulars. She's with her husband and she places her small basket of vegetables on the counter. 

Robbie jumps, tearing his eyes from you. He quickly recovers and moves away from you. "Hi, Mrs. Smith," he grins and begins to help her. You turn to your notebook again, chewing on your lip. 

"Hello, Miss Y/n," Mr. Smith tilts his cap as Mrs. Smith makes a comment on how Robbie looks more handsome every day she sees him. She almost reaches out to pinch his cheeks but stops herself at the last moment when you answer her husband.  

"Hello, Mr. Smith," you wave shyly. 

Mr. and Mrs. Smith exchange glances between you and Robbie and then Mrs. Smith nudges her husband. "What I wouldn't give to experience young love again, Tom," she laughs.

Robbie almost drops the squash he's packing up when he hears this as he clears his throat. His cheeks are dusted pink.

"Oh, we aren't—" you quickly explain.

Robbie interrupts you, "Here you go. That'll be six pounds." 

Mr. Smith sends Robbie a knowing look but hands him the money in silence. Mrs. Smith giggles and links arms with her husband as he grabs the groceries. "Don't work yourselves too hard, loves," she says, looking at your notebook, and sends you a kind smile. You nod, a little stunned from the entire interaction.

After they leave, you finish your work in silence as Robbie counts the money. 

* * * 

"Well, this is me," you pause, "thanks," you say as Robbie hands you your backpack and you hold it near your knees. You're standing outside your gate, heels rocking nervously. Robbie looks just as nervous as he rubs his nape and looks around, sending you a lopsided grin. 

"I hope I helped," he says. 

"You did! Very much so!" you exclaim, a little too enthusiastic and you instantly want to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

Robbie laughs, seemingly charmed. "Good."

He looks behind him and he almost looks like he wants to ask something but he doesn't. "Tell your bruv I say hi, yeah?" he says and then turns to leave. 

Your mind acts on autopilot as you panic. You don't want him to leave! You grab his sleeve and then your words become stuck in your throat when he turns around and your eyes go round. 

"Are you okay?" Robbie asks, eyebrows pinched with concern. 

You nod and then the word vomit begins. "I- would you like to hang out outside of school sometime? I- I know this really yummy fish and chips place near the—" you pause, remembering the look Lindsay had given you and all your insecurities jump out. "Sorry, this is so stupid," you whisper, moving to pull away from him. 

"Hey, wait." Robbie grabs your sleeve this time and tugs you closer. He steadies you with a hand on your arm. He cracks a smile, looking you over. "You're the first girl who's been the one to ask me out, y'know," he says. 

"I didn't—" you try to defend but he shakes his head. 

"I like it," Robbie reassures you. "You're really weird sometimes," he jokes but quickly adds, "but I like you." 

You scrunch your nose a little at the insult but his hand on your cheek makes the comment disappear. "I like you," he repeats, "and I'd be an absolute git not to accept your date offer."

Your shoulders relax and Robbie grins. 

"Name a time and place and I'm there."

[jen-with-a-pen]

Two's Company

pairings: Older!Coworker!Logan x Younger!Coworker!Reader

warnings: obligatory MDNI, written on my phone, everyone's an adult and 21+, no smut, open ended, use your imagination, secret relationship/crush vibes, alcohol (wine), sexual tension, again use your imagination

credit: images from Pinterest | divider by @firefly-graphics

a/n: wrote this while thinking about my own work DILF crush instead of finishing the three other WIPs I have. Thank the writer's block. Don't know word count. I need put down. Enjoy💕

Just thinking about him makes your heart race. The butterflies start kicking up a storm in your stomach with their beating wings, twisting and tying you in knots that feel impossible to pick apart.

The mere mention– the mere thought– of his name is enough to send you spiraling, chest thrumming with palpitations. He's not even in the goddamn room with you and you're already sweating. Hands clammy, knees weak, face filling with a red-hot heat that you can't fan away.

You bite back a grin thinking of the way his lips spread into a smile when you make him laugh, the crooked tilt of a knowing smirk when you impress him with something he didn't think you had up your sleeve.

It's been years, but that one song you had on repeat as a teen plays like a broken record in the back of your mind; the lyrics, reminiscent of how the gray in his hair shines like silver, the blue in the pills he probably takes, the gray clouds of smoke from his cigars.

You didn't understand then, but it's crystal fucking clear now.

And when you think you're over it– over him– you're at home, alone on the couch, nursing on a glass of wine while watching the trashiest of all TV shows a streaming service can offer, when an image of his face pops into your head. Unprompted. Unasked for. Like some crude joke.

But you... you don't mind. Not entirely, if you're honest.

You saw the way he looked at you on Tuesday as you walked out of the meeting, his eyes burning into your swaying hips underneath that tight pencil skirt. Or how, on Thursday, when you took your lunch break, he took the time to stop and compliment you on the sweets you brought in the entire time it took for you to reheat Wednesday night's leftovers. Even followed you back to your office asking what makes you– under the more appropriate guise of your baking– so, so sweet?

A stolen glance, a brush of fingers, subtle praise and the million-watt smile of his makes way to the forefront of your mind. The faded tanline of a wedding band on his ring finger sits on the sidelines, a sore but needed reminder, nonetheless. Teeth to your lip, eyes scrunching shut while your eardrums echo with the phantom sound of his voice. The honeyed timbre. His inflections and musings. What was it he said to you a couple of weeks ago after the project meeting? In that sinfully low octave meant for you and you alone?

"If you're ever lonely, I'm just a phonecall away, sweetheart."

The guilt and shame can take a backseat. You'll deal with them some other time.

You set down the wine glass– not even half-empty– and pick up the phone.

thanks for the patience while I get around to finish my other WIPs 💕 reblogs and comments are always welcome

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Gn! Reader Breakups

A/n: Hi!, We're back to brainrotting for a bit <3 Will not be writing Ace and Cater since I don't know much about both of them currently! Masterlist

Chapter Two: Savanaclaw

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Sypnosis: Imagine how twisted Wonderland boys are as your ex-boyfriends? Who would cut ties first? or how they would break up with you due to unforeseen circumstances? what was the reason for their breakup, and how would they do it?

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: Breaks up with you first

♚ He breaks up with you first, not because of his mother’s decisions, no, it’s because he thinks that he’s not giving you enough time. He’s always in motion, filled with responsibilities, he didn’t know if he could even spend time with you anymore.

♚ At first, he was fine with it, thinking that, once summer break happens, he would get to spend time with you, however, he almost forgot that his mother is anticipating his arrival back home, and he felt apologetic for even telling you that he’ll have more time once summer started, a huge error on his part.

♚ He realized that his time with you started to get chipped slowly, more and more responsibilities awaited him after finishing his second year.

♚ He decided that you deserve a boyfriend who could give you the time he lacks, and you deserve to know about his plans. Inviting you out for the first (and last) time. He invites you out to eat at a nearby café. One that you frequented with him in the first stages of your relationship.

♚ He’d have a casual conversation with you first, before setting down the tea he ordered; mustering the courage he accumulated during the time he couldn’t talk to you.

♚ “We should break up” he stated, hands intertwining with each other as if he’s speaking in a housewarden meeting.

♚ “What?” your voice broke, almost breaking the glass you were drinking from as the hurt in your heart made his heart ache and making him want to backtrack his statement. Yet he continued forward.

♚ “I think you deserve better than my broken promises” his resolve was crumbling when your lips formed into a thin line, looking down as if you were admitting defeat made him frown further. “I’m sorry,” he adds, feeling as if cotton was stuck in his throat, what else could he say in this situation?

♚ “Maybe if we focused on our careers first-“He cut himself off, a bitter realization that he was starting to sound like his mother as he bit his lip, he couldn’t face you anymore, standing up he fixed his uniform, “I’ll give you some space.” He finishes, before grabbing his bag, “Riddle-“you tried to call out to him but he was out of the door in a split second.

♚ He was pathetic, how would he consider himself a man, leaving you there alone? He basically ruined your reputation.

♚ As an ex-boyfriend, he would avoid you at all costs, and even if he couldn’t he’ll cut his conversations short with you, he knows that you might hate him because of what he did, so he’s making sure that he respects your time for self-healing.

♚ Although he unconsciously seeks you, sometimes he would ask your friends, especially if they’re from Heartslabyul like Ace and Deuce if you found a new lover? Or were you preparing for something? Like a midterm exam or finals? Or were you planning on any new designs for Ramshackle?

♚ 7/10 ex-boyfriend, mainly because he cannot move on from you and will continue to keep tabs on you if you ever find another lover, he’ll get so upset and hurt by it, but realizing that he was at fault he swallows up all his bitterness and “tries” to accept it.

Trey: You break up first

☘︎ You didn’t really understand why you would break up with someone like Trey, he gave you everything, yet you ended a perfect relationship with him just like that.

☘︎ Which is normal, you lost feelings for Trey Clover, and you couldn’t see a future with him, maybe it was the fact that you felt like you two didn’t have the spark that you felt in the first stages of your relationship. There are endless possibilities of why you would break up with Trey Clover. But this simply was because of your loss of love for him.

☘︎ Trey would notice how you seemed to be further from him, or at least you were starting to distance yourself from him. He’d ask you if you wanted to come to go out on a date with him, but simply refused, he’ll respect that, but couldn’t help but wonder what has gotten you to start avoiding him out of nowhere?

☘︎ He would be patient at first, letting you have your alone time, and he’d do his own thing, having plenty of responsibilities that he could distract himself instead of worrying why you were ignoring him.

☘︎ Maybe you needed time? Did he do something wrong? Or was it the time Riddle got his attention due to almost collaring a few Heartslabyul students during your date inside NRC?

☘︎ He didn’t even realize that despite trying to avoid his thoughts, they were still there, so when you finally decided to speak to him after a few weeks of ignoring him, he was ecstatic.

☘︎ But that was short-lived when you told him that you wanted to end your relationship with him.

☘︎ His heart dropped when he heard that, but his face remained neutral, staring into your eyes, scanning for any jokes, this might be some cruel joke, right? He wanted to grab your shoulders, and ask you what happened and what did he do wrong? When did you start thinking about this? But all he could ask was

☘︎ “Why?” even muttering that made his throat constrict, he looked away, hand automatically going to his forehead as he felt like he was having a bad dream

☘︎ You told him that you simply lost interest, that you didn’t want to drag the relationship further, and that he deserves someone who could love him fully. He wanted to reject it, but he couldn’t, he didn’t have the heart to force you to reconsider when it’s obvious you’ve been thinking about this for so long.

☘︎ He’d accept it without a fuss, even to the point he gave you one last hug, a lingering one because he knew that it was the last time he gets to hold you like this as your boyfriend.

☘︎ “I hope you find someone who’ll treat you right” A painful farewell, but he knew that with time, he’ll try to heal.

☘︎ As an Ex-Boyfriend, he wouldn’t be the type to avoid you, he might stay friends with you even, in order to keep peace, he doesn’t like conflicts and starts thinking about the situation in a more positive way, that you two weren’t meant for each other and that you deserve someone much more compatible (although the thought of you being with someone else leaves a bitter taste in his mouth) If you avoid him however, he wouldn’t notice it, since he’s starting to get used not seeing you more often than normal.

☘︎ Whether you’d be bitter at the improvement or not, Trey is trying his best to put both your best interests at heart, you broke up with him, so he’s just trying to remain civilized with the situation!

☘︎ Overall 10/10. He is the best ex-boyfriend you can have, he doesn’t get hostile with you, maybe a little awkward but he doesn’t outright insult your name and ruin your reputation to other heartslabyul students.

Deuce: You break up first

♠️ Wouldn’t believe it at first, he’d try to ask you where he was lacking, was it because he wasn’t acting like an adult? Was he too childish? Dumb? Immature? He would try to stop you from leaving without telling him the reason, but he wouldn’t get too aggressive with it even of you truly wanted to leave him with no questions unanswered.

♠️ You’re Deuce’s first lover, so he can’t just let you go, he’s in denial that you even broke up with him, expect a few flowers, phone calls and chats from him which is encouraged by a few of his friends.

♠️ If you truly didn’t want him to chase you, please provide him with a reason why you even wanted to leave in the first place. He won’t argue with you for it, he just needed to know where he lacked that he pushed you to the point where you had to break up with him.

♠️ If it was something like losing the spark in the relationship, he wouldn’t understand it at first but would accept it.

♠️ Sometimes, his gaze would linger on you if you decided to stay friends with him instead of ghosting him. If you noticed he’d outright, try to reject it only to wither if you pushed even a little bit.

♠️ His response would be that he still really loves you, and hopes that you’d reconsider (no matter how many months to years it takes)

♠️ His mother would know about what happened but wouldn’t hate you for it, sometimes young love doesn’t work out, however, she does feel the want to scold you for creating such a mess of his son whenever he calls.

♠️ Always talking about you instead of himself, she understands that he truly does love you as first love, but she’s really hoping that you’d either take him back, or her son could finally move on, especially when there are many fishes in the sea, her son is not ugly after all!

♠️ As an Ex- Boyfriend, would rate him a 5/10, he’s sweet, caring, and a good boyfriend, but as your ex, he’s not the type to let go that easily, he would yearn for you, wish that you’ll take him back no matter what. So, unfortunately, he’s not good with staying far away from you when he craves your affection.

[digitalangel-writer]

thinking about Jung tae-ju being pathetically in love with you. It feels so damm good when he is on his knees begging for your forgiveness. How he look at you pleading for your permission to touch you and when you do give him the permission, he becomes feral. Sloppy making out with your pussy. Slurping your clit like you the only meal he ever had. He can’t help it. You just don’t stop squirming around his fingers.

[dibbs-n-scribbs]

I know I’m late to every fandom imaginable but I genuinely thought there would be more fan works out there for the it crowd LIKE WHERE ARE MY PEOPLE AT??? it’s literally peak and I’m only 5 episodes in

[lifeisabitch-butimcute]

91 & lesbian wsb pls !!!!!!! 🤍🤍🤍 and if i can have a preference.. maybe specifically lesbian jamie/rem… the masc4masc of my DREAMMMSSSSSS i know everyones constantly praying on sirius’ downfall…

yayyyy of course lovely 🥰 Jamie/Rem is less charted territory for me so I’m excited I hope I do them justice 💕 also this ended up being SO emotional?? whoopsie daisy

Drabble prompts

“We’re all a little stronger than we think we are.”

Jamie was sitting on the floor. Not splayed out, leaning back on her hands, head tilted like she usually did. She was just. Sitting. Remus knocked on the doorframe of the bedroom, and Jamie blinked up at her, seemingly broken from a trance.

“Hey.”

“You okay?” Remus asked hesitantly. She didn’t always know where her and Jamie stood; they both orbited Sirius so steadily, rarely coming into contact on their own.

“Fine.” She didn’t move from her cross-legged position on the carpet.

“You don’t, ah, seem fine,” Remus ventured. She took a hesitant step into the room. Almost checked her phone for Sirius’ location, but she already knew she was in class for another hour. “D’you wanna tell me about it?”

Jamie shook her head, then slipped off her glasses and pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes. “No, it’s fine. It’s stupid, I’m just - it’s just dramatics. I can deal with it on my own.”

“Well,” Remus said carefully, crossing the room and folding herself into a similar position across from Jamie. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Jamie shifted a few papers to the side to give Remus room to stretch out the leg that always got stiff when it was bent for too long. “I don’t wanna make you sad too.”

Remus gave Jamie a wry grin; she recognized the wording. For all that Sirius tried, she still struggled with displays of emotion, and often grumbled ‘seeing you sad makes me sad’ before dashing off to bury them in acts of kindness which, while appreciated, didn’t always work as well as just talking. “I’m not Sirius. You can tell me.”

“I’m just-” Jamie heaved out a sigh. “I’m so tired. And nothing is going right this week - I’m buried in assignments and readings and I was late to work yesterday and I had to skip the gym today for a group project meeting, and I haven’t called my parents in like a month and I miss them. So it’s just a bunch of stupid little things all piling up and it feels silly to let myself get crushed under the weight of it all.”

Remus shifted her weight back into her hand, rearranged her legs to both be spread out, and stretched out her free arm. “C’mere.”

Wordlessly, Jamie crawled into the space between Remus’ legs and pressed herself against Remus’ chest. Remus wrapped her arm around her and threaded her fingers through the mop of thick black hair. “If you had to take all those feelings,” she said softly, “and bundle them all up into one big feeling, what would it be?”

Jamie was quiet for a moment, then she said quietly, “Helpless. Or, um, weak, I guess.” Remus hummed noncommittally. Jamie shifted under arm to look up at her. “You don’t agree?”

“I mean they’re your feelings,” Remus said with a shrug. “But I do think we’re all a little stronger than we think we are. I think you’re strong for handling it thus far, and you’re strong for telling me about it, and at the end of the day if you’re still feeling weak, just know that you have not one, but two partners who would be happy to help you shoulder the weight.”

Jamie let her head settle against the crook of Remus’ shoulder. “Thank you,” she said after a beat. “I don’t…really know what to do with that right now. But thank you for saying it.”

Remus let out a small huff of laughter and turned her head to press her lips against the crown of Jamie’s head. “No need to do anything,” she said. “Just know it’s true.”

[etoiline]

came across this prompt post 10 Traits That Make a Character Secretly Dangerous and got challenged by @voidcat-senket and @mikkalia to write some drabbles about it, and I finished the tenth one today. I've never tried to write drabbles before so I wasn't sure if I could do it too well, but now it's nice to say that I have.

take all you know and you let it go, a series of 100-word muses on what makes Bode Akuna secretly dangerous. Some of them really work and some of them veer off the prompts, but that's what you get in these little character studies.

check out the other works too!

[late-to-the-party-81]

This babe is getting you something from your favorite coffeeshop. What's your go-to order and what did he bring you?

Sorry for taking so long, Cia!

My go-to order is a decaf hazelnut latte, but I love when there are seasonal specials that are more cream than coffee.

So what does the Captain get me? Head on under the cut for a 500 word, un-beta'd drabble.

Steve and the other Avengers had been off doing one of their public appearances, talking to sick kids down one of the local hospitals, so he was dressed up in his Cap suit, but for once wasn’t bruised, battered or sweaty when he eventually returned to the Tower. In fact, he and the others had had time to swing past the local coffee shop on the way back and load up on some much needed caffeine and sugar.

As they walked back through the doors, Tony’s voice echoing loudly through the reception area, you couldn’t help but look up from your desk, where you worked as the face of Stark Industries, greeting and directing visitors and acting as the first line of defence against Avengers super-fans.

The light shone through the huge windows that seemed to stretch ever upwards and lit up Steve Roger’s golden hair. You let out a sigh. He was so fucking handsome.

You considered yourself a grown-up professional, but for some reason whenever the Captain was near or, god-forbid, spoke to you, you turned into a giggling school girl. It didn’t stop you from admiring him from a distance though - a girl could dream.

However, as the gaggle of heroes got closer, heading towards the executive elevators, Steve peeled off, heading towards you. Your eyes went wide with confusion and your heart started to race. What could he possibly want? Somehow, you managed to return your expression to one of corporate pleasantness as he crossed the last few feet of space, a soft smile on his features.

“Can I help you, Captain?” you asked .

“Actually, I thought I could help you.” He placed a coffee cup and a small paper bag in front of you. “I got these for you. Thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the gesture, but then your heart sank at the sight of the coffee.

“That’s, umm, very thoughtful, Captain, but I can’t have normal coffee because…”

He cut you off. “Because you’re intolerant. That’s why I got you decaf. A latte, with a shot of hazelnut. And one of those brownies with the caramel running through it.”

Your eyes started to bug out again. “How did you know?” You squeaked out the question, no longer able to maintain your professional composure.

“I always remember important information,” he replied and despite his relatively simple words, there was an implied meaning under them. Was Steve Rogers - Captain America - flirting with you?”

You swallowed thickly and picked up the coffee cup. “Well thank you for thinking of me, Captain. It’s much appreciated. But I’d best let you go,” you gestured to the rest of the gang who were standing near the elevator, all trying to look as though they weren’t eavesdropping. “The others are waiting.”

“And I’d best let you return to work. See you around.”

He turned around and started to walk away, and you tried your best not to just stare at his ass. However, he suddenly stopped again and looked back over his shoulder.

“Oh, one more thing.”

You sat up in your seat, feeling a bit like a meerkat. “Yes, Captain?”

“Call me Steve.”

tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions

[yourauthorjen]

| THE BEST DAY | — joaquin torres

MASTERLIST

| synopsis: | a dating couple, a bouquet toss, and a wedding. what could go wrong?

| includes: | joaquintorres x fem!reader, fluff, cliche, no use of, no use of y/n, teasing, wedding stuff, reader wears blue dress, really nosy relatives, manspreading

| word count: | 2.1k

| a/n: | inspired by the song the best day by taylor swift and like half a dozen bouquet toss reels on instagram. also i have limited knowledge on southern american wedding culture/traditions so if there is anything wrong please correct me!

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

IF YOU HAD known that an after party for a wedding could contain enough energy to fuel two Cirque Du Soleils, you would’ve worn sneakers instead of heels, jeans instead of a dress, and harnessed enough mental capacity to be tackled by Joaquin’s entire extended family before you even reached the reception tent.

You adjusted the soft blue satin of your dress, smoothing the fabric where it hugged your hips, feeling suddenly aware of the way it caught in the light. It was simple but stunning—a cowl neckline that shimmered with every step, and something you had spent eons debating on whether or not you should’ve gotten it.

But it was worth it, because you had barely stepped out of the car, before several aunties rushed over, each one of them in brightly patterened skirts and tops, all surrounding you and Joaquin in a flurry of hands and flower scented perfume wafted.

One by one, they pulled you into a hug, spewing question after question; and by the time one of Joaquin’s uncles managed to wrangle them away you had answered “are you going to get married?” one too many times.

Joaquin on the other hand, was no help whatsoever. He just stood there, all smug in his navy suit and open-collared shirt, cheeks flushed with pride. He looked devastating in the sun, and he knew it, too—but instead he just watched you get circled by half a dozen women who shared his nose, his smile, and his never ending enthusiasm for you.

But it wasn’t just the aunties that took an interest in you. Several of Joaquin’s little nephews and nieces had begun trailing after the two of you, half of them already covered in grass stains and mud, giggling and whispering behind your back with large, dutiful eyes.

One of the braver girls—probably no older than six, swallowed by a white dress full of pristine lace and an aggressively large bow—marched right up to you as you were nursing your champagne under the reception tent. Her shiny black shoes were scuffed to hell, and curls frizzed from the humidity as she stared at you with curious eyes.

“Are you his girlfriend?” she asked, pointing directly at Joaquin, who stood a few feet away, talking to his uncle.

You blinked in surprise, completely caught off guard. “Uh… yeah, I am.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you repeated, smiling a little. “Is that okay?”

She crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side in pure judgment. “But you’re way too pretty to be his girlfriend.”

Your jaw dropped with half a laugh caught in your throat. “Oh my god.”

“And he’s like… medium-handsome,” she continued with a shrug. “But you’re, like, really, really pretty.”

Joaquin turned just in time to catch that. “Did you just call me ‘medium-handsome’, Alejandra Luciana Torres?”

The girl ignored him, still studying you like you were an exhibit. “Are you also smart?”

“I—uh—”

“She is,” Joaquin interrupted, marching behind you before resting a hand on your waist. “Very smart and way out of my league. So let’s all be cool about it, okay?”

The little girl tilted her head up at him with still narrowed eyes. “Then how did you get her?”

“Great question,” you said under your breath, sipping your drink to hide your grin.

“I have charm,” Joaquin told her, pressing a hand to his chest. “And skills.”

“No,” she said flatly. “You have bad haircut.”

A loud “OHH!” rang out from the other kids, and one little boy collapsed onto the grass dramatically, while Joaquin’s mouth dropped open like he’d just been slapped in the face.

“What? My hair is fine,” he cried patting his loose curls resting across his forehead. “Your just mad that I look this good without trying.”

“Okay, Mr. Medium-Handsome,” you teased, “Let’s go before you end up throwing a tantrum.”

He sputtered, “I— you— you’re lucky I love you.”

You snorted and cupped his cheek, giving him a quick sloppy kiss to shut him up. The kids however, weren't as impressed. Behind you, a chorus of 'EWWW!''s rang out as you pulled away, and Alejandra— Joaquin's little cousin recoiled with enough force to make a rubber hand snapped. A few other kids screamed, one boy slapped a hand over his eyes while another started shrieking: "She's got Uncle J's cooties!"

Joaquin on the other hand looked completely smug. "See told I could get her."

The kids scurried away, as you rolled your eyes and patted his chest. "God, you're such a dork."

The sun had just begun to dip when the music started pounding over the speakers, and the soft afterglow casted a gold shine over the venue. You were halfway to the drink table, reaching out for a glass of wine when Joaquin slowed beside you, eyeing the growing crowd with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

You raised your eyebrow at him with a suspicious look. "Joaquin, absolutely not."

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. "What?"

"You're trying to convince me to dance, aren't you?"

"No..." he trailed off. "Well, okay, maybe I do. But y'know if you want to break a poor man’s heart—”

The words hadn't even left his mouth before you were already dragging him towards the sea of bodies, swishing their hips as Reggaeton blasted from the speakers, and cheers going up from the crowd. Music pulsed through your body, and Joaquin was already smiling. His moves were suave and easy, twirling you around like he’d done it a hundred times before. There was no resisting the way he moved with it, smooth and confident, one hand finding your waist, the other catching your wrist mid-spin.

Laughter bubbled out of you before you could stop it. It was impossible not to smile with him looking at you like that, especially with the scent of citrus and champagne drift in the air. Joaquin pulled you closer, cheek brushing yours for a beat, his voice low against your ear.

"Te estás divirtiendo?”

You blinked at him, caught between the rhythm of the song and the heat of his breath. “I have no idea what you just said,” you yelled over the music, laughing. “But I love you too!”

His grin was as wide as yours, shaking his head as he leaned in again. “That works.”

It didn’t take long before the layers started coming off. His suit jacket was the first to go slung somewhere over a chair between Suavemente and Chantaje. His tie was loosened, then vanished entirely, stuffed into his pocket after you pulled at it with a teasing smirk. And by the time he spun you into his arms again, the top few buttons of his shirt had popped open, sleeves rolled high up to his biceps, skin glowing under the lights and that ever-present grin stretched across his face like he hadn’t smiled in years.

His forearms flexed, and his face was flushed with a sheen coat of sweat. His hair was messy and fell over his forehead in a sweep, loose curls stuck to the back of his neck. You had barely noticed how long you’d been out there until he leaned down, your hips still swaying to the music as his lips brushed against your temple.

“Water?” he asked, voice warm against your skin.

“Please,” you breathed.

The two of you peeled off from the crowd, his hand slipping into yours as you made your way toward the drinks. You grabbed a glass of something cold and fizzy, pressing it to your cheek with a sigh, fanning your red cheeks.

When you glanced over at Joaquin, he was sprawled over his chair, legs wide open and hands tucked neatly behind his head. He looked far too pleased with himself, eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a lazy grin, shirt clinging to his chest from the heat, curls damp at the edges. It was infuriating, and you had to tear your eyes away from the beautiful sight beside you to keep your sanity.

Instead, you focused on the group gathering just several feet away from you, a swirling knot of women in heels and sundresses already jostling for position behind the bride. Laughter spilled from their circle, some crouching low with hands on their knees, others bouncing on the balls of their feet, all caught up in the buzz of anticipation.

“What are they doing over there?” you murmured softly underneath your breath.

Joaquin glanced over his shoulder, then leaned in with a lopsided grin. “Bouquet toss, you should go join them.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” he said, nudging you playfully. “Don’t you want to fight a bunch of strangers for symbolic flowers?”

“Hard pass,” you said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks, “Besides, I’m not that close to your family, I’d feel weird.”

But he was still watching you with a grin on his face like he knew something you didn’t. You narrowed your eyes at him, ready to fire back when suddenly a small thud sounded in your lap.

Your conversation halted, as your eyes widened at the soft bundle of roses and baby’s breaths now nestled against your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and your mouth turned into sandpaper, gritty and scratchy as you stared in shock.

It took you two tries before you could find your voice again, and by then the crowd had erupted like thunder. Applauds and wolf whistles sounded and several aunties squealed as they all rushed towards you.

You shot of from your chair and turned to Joaquin, eyes wide with horror, bouquet still clutched in your hands. “I— I didn’t—”

Joaquin looked stunned, before his mouth curled into a delighted, wicked grin. “Holy fuck.”

All eyes seemed to turn on you, digging into your back before then turning to Joaquin.

“Oh my God!” a voice shrieked as footsteps pounded towards you. “Mija! Oh my dear, I’m finally going to have a grandchild!”

Your jaw dropped as Joaquin’s mother stretched her arms out, eyes wide with joy as she swept you into a hug.

“I— no— no,” you tried, “It wasn’t—”

“You caught the bouquet!” his mother squealed, “This is a sign from the universe!” She turned towards her son. “You! I want two grandchildren with her pretty face and your eyes. Fate has already decided.”

“Mamá!” Joaquin nearly choked, eyes wide as he half-laughed, half-pleaded. “No one’s having any babies yet.”

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, mijo,” she said waving her hands around. “Your father and I made you after a wedding—”

“Nope!” Joaquin clapped his hands over his ears. “We’re done. No. Shut it down.”

You stood frozen, bouquet still in your hands, heart pounding from the sudden storm of attention. Around you, a chorus of aunts and cousins began chiming in.

“I give it six months.”

“Ya gotta put the ring on it soon, J.”

“I’m willing to put 20 dollars that their wedding will be at the end of this year.”

“But she’s too pretty to marry Uncle Joaquin!”

Joaquin’s dad—thankfully, mercifully—stepped in saving the two of you from anymore unsolicited advice. “Okay, okay,” he said loudly, grinning as he herded everyone back toward the dance floor. “Let’s give them some air.”

He winked at you on the way past. “Congrats, kiddo, you’ve just got 100 more people added to your wedding guest list.”

You exhaled like you’d just escaped a house fire, dropping into the nearest chair, bouquet still clutched like in your lap. “God,” you groaned, rubbing your temples. “I just wanted a drink.”

Joaquin dropped into the seat beside you, his collar crooked, and hair messier than ever. He looked far too pleased with himself for someone whose mother just tried to spiritually marry him off.

“You okay?” he asked, nudging your knee with his.

“I’m alive,” you muttered. “Barely.”

He chuckled, leaning back with a lazy sprawl. “They love you.”

“They terrify me.”

A beat passed as laughter, music, and the buzz of energy still lingered around the tent like fog. You were about to close your eyes when he leaned in, his voice low, warm, a grin in it even before he spoke.

“You know…” he murmured near your ear, “I wouldn’t mind if we had kids someday.”

Your head whipped toward him. “Joaquin.”

“I’m just saying,” he said innocently, holding up his hands. “I wouldn’t mind seeing mini versions of us running around the house like maniacs.”

You swatted his arm—hard—and he winced with a laugh.

“Marry me first,” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest, “before you even think about that.”

Joaquin grinned, rubbing where you hit him. “So that’s not a no?”

You groaned and sank lower in your chair, pulling a napkin over your face. “I need three years and a gallon of wine before we talk about that again, so my answer is maybe.”

He laughed, soft and slow, then leaned over and kissed your cheek anyway—careful, sweet, and just enough to make your stomach flip again.

“Three years,” he whispered. “That’s a deal.”

[minijenn]

SURPRISE! I wrote a UF Christmas drabble! And as to be expected from a Christmas drabble, its all tooth rotting fluff. Seriously I kept listening to this song from the Frozen Christmas special and I was like "this is so UF coded" so I wrote this because I just wanted to write these idiots spending Christmas together. So yeah, enjoy this as a special thanks to all ya'll bearing with me in the new UF era this year!

Relationships: Dipper Pines & Steven Universe, Mabel Pines & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines

Characters: Steven Universe, Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Connie Maheswaran, Garnet (Steven Universe), Amethyst (Steven Universe), Pearl (Steven Universe), Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe), Peridot (Steven Universe), Greg Universe, Stan Pines, Ford Pines, Pacifica Northwest

Additional Tags: Christmas Fluff, Found Family, Christmas, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Songfic, The idea wouldn't leave my head, quick and dirty drabble i wrote in one night, for once i write something that made me cry in the opposite directly, honestly this may be the sweetest thing ive ever written, Friendship, Family Fluff, Christmas Special, Bad parents Pines Parents, Seriously how dare

Summary: When Steven learns Dipper and Mabel's Christmas is less than merry, he comes up with a plan to make their season a bit brighter...

[acrylicqueen]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE NEXT MOVIE ALEX JENNINGS IS GOING TO BE IN IS A WES ANDERSON MOVIE

[eliteseven]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shadowheart/Tav (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Fluff, Mild Smut, Romance, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Valentine's Day Series: Part 4 of Minor Fall, Major Lift Summary:

Jen loathes Valentine's Day, thanks to her ex, Shar. Tav hatches a heartfelt plan to rewrite the holiday’s meaning for her.

[silverofthunder]

you see the rose and a cup of tea on the kitchen table and you can't help but smile as you stop close to the table. a delicious, warm scent hits your nose and you carefully pick up the cup to take a taste of the tea.

it's perfect. sweet but not too sweet.

then you place the cup back on the table and take the rose in your hand, bringing it close to your nose. you breath in the velvety scent and hum happily.

the sound of the door opening and closing, then approaching footsteps, make you smile and soon arms wrap around your middle, a pair of soft lips pressing lightly against your neck.

"good morning, my love," Primo whispers against your skin, warmth filling your heart all over, your smile growing even wider. you mumble good morning back to him and he starts to pepper your neck with little kisses, the touch slightly tickling you and making you chuckle.

despite that you only lean against him more and move your gaze out of the small window on the opposite wall. the sun is already lighting up the world behind it with its orange yellowish glow. it's beautiful just like this moment here, in your home, in the arms of the love of your life.

[lifeisabitch-butimcute]

lesbian wolfstarbucks but the sad edition that i've been brainrotting over (with a happy ending come on now). 960 words, mildly nsfw

When Remus mentioned she couldn’t come over on Friday because she had a date, Sirius wasn’t sure what she meant. 

“What do you mean, date?” she asked, propping her head up with her fist. Her elbow rested on the pillow next to Remus’. Jamie was curled up against Remus’ back, her arm slung around Remus’ waist, napping. 

“I mean a date,” Remus said with a small, nervous laugh. “A girl asked me out, and we’re going to dinner.”

Sirius blinked. She looked at Jamie, then back at Remus. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Remus shrugged. “Why would I say no?”

“Why-” Sirius was at a loss for words. They’d been rolling around in bed all morning – Jamie brought them breakfast, then they fucked, then napped, and after Remus brought back snacks, they fucked again, and were just waking up from round two of naps. But apparently that wasn’t enough for Remus. Sirius flipped over with a huff and curled up in on herself. “Fine then. Do what you want.”

—

Remus and Kim had been on three dates. Remus would come over to their apartment after each one, tell them about it like it didn’t kill them to hear. Like the night didn’t always end with them all curled up in a pile in their shared bed, naked and sweaty and spent. 

Sirius spent the time in between ranting and raving and scheming while Jamie sank deeper into a depression. Sirius stalked Kim on social media, made dummy accounts so she could see everything without it being obvious and pick apart her flaws and Jamie laid in bed until noon and ate nothing but plain pasta and pizza rolls and occasionally a vegetable, but only when Sirius made her. 

The first time Remus didn’t come home after, texted them see you in the morning, they’d just cried. Curled up in each other’s arms and cried tears of frustration and heartbreak. They didn’t understand why they weren’t enough, why she had to dangle this in front of them like a taunt. 

—

“Tell me you’re mine,” Sirius gasped into Remus’ open mouth. Her wrists were held down by Remus’ strong grip above her head, Remus’ weight pressing her into the mattress. 

“Yours,” Remus groaned, her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t used to shut her eyes when they fucked. 

Jamie gripped a fistful of Remus’ hair and pulled her head to the side to expose the length of her neck. She plastered her front to Remus’ back, fucked the strap-on into her as deep as she could. “Fucking look at her when you say it,” she hissed in Remus’ ear. “Like you mean it.”

Remus’ eyes fluttered open and met Sirius’, tears pricking at the waterline as she choked out, “I’m yours.”

Sirius didn’t believe her, but she lifted her head to sink her teeth into the skin that Jamie had bared, so at least Remus would look the part. 

They made her leave after. No more cuddling, no more post-fuck snacks. If they weren’t going to be enough for her, they had no obligation to her beyond what she took for herself; what they’d never be able to deny her. 

 —

It was a moment of pure desperation, in the middle of a fight, that Jamie asked Remus to stop seeing Kim. They’d gone on five dates, and things had reached a fever pitch when Remus strolled into their apartment with a hickey that neither of them had given her. 

“Why do you even need a girlfriend?” She asked desperately. “What’s so great about her?”

Remus swallowed, stared down at her hands where they rested in her lap. “She’s sweet,” she said quietly. “She - she tells me when I look nice, and holds my hand when we go places, and-”

“Remus,” Jamie said with a frantic laugh, squatting down and resting her hands on Remus’ knees, crammed in between the coffee table and the couch. “We would hold each of your hands for the rest of time. You’d never have to pick something up or open a door for yourself ever again. We tell you when you look nice, or handsome, or pretty. Are we saying the wrong things? Do you not believe us?”

“But you don’t want me…”

“How could you possibly think that we don’t want you?”

“You have each other,” Remus said desperately, gesturing between Jamie and Sirius, who stood further back, arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I’m just a guest. I have to make my peace with that. She’s not you, she’ll never be you, but I can’t have-”

“Yes you can,” Sirius spat. “Of course you can! What do you think we’ve been doing?”

“I don’t-” Remus shook her head, and her lip quivered. She looked desperately at Jamie. “I don’t understand.”

“Remus,” Jamie sighed, cupping Remus’ face in both her hands. “You wouldn’t be sharing our meals and our bed and our time if we didn’t want you. We don’t do this with just anyone - you’re the first exception we’ve made. The only exception.”

“Oh.”

“So either break up with Kim or leave us alone to lick our wounds while you go fuck your girlfriend.”

Remus sucked in a harsh breath and fumbled for her phone. Jamie’s hands were back on her knees, pressing them open slightly to fit herself between them. Sirius had drawn closer, and threaded one hand through Jamie’s hair as she watched Remus. “Better yet,” Sirius said coolly. “Call her.”

In the end, Remus stuttered out a half-hearted, semi-apologetic excuse while Jamie licked into her, Remus’ legs slung over her shoulders, and Sirius sucked a bruise over the one Kim had left, her mouth resting just next to where Remus held her phone to her ear. 

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — video rental.

JUNE 12, 1984

“Hey Doc, can we watch this one next?”

Most sixteen-year-olds, on the anniversary of their births, would mark the occasion with a sweet sixteen party. They would not celebrate by spending the night in a garage smelling of oil, fries, and flame-broiled burgers in the company of a crazy old man and his dog.

Then again, Marty wasn’t most sixteen-year-olds, and Emmett had never been more grateful for that.

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” he recites, squinting a little to see the cassette tape case as Marty waves it around, offering a bemused smile. “That over American Graffiti? Or Star Wars?”

“Those are great!” Marty’s quick to defend. “But I think this one might be my favorite. I mean, all of these are my favorites, but this one…” He grins. “It’s outta sight, Doc.”

“You might even say it’s… out of this world?”

“Jesus, Doc, that was terrible,” Marty rolls his eyes and groans, but his grin doesn’t fade. If anything, it brightens. “I kinda walked into that one, huh?”

“You did,” Emmett agrees. “But go on, go on. Tell me more.” He’d seen the movie before, of course; he’d gone to see it when it first came out in theaters. Ever since he’d first seen Frankenstein as a boy, he'd tried hard never to miss a science fiction release, but seeing Marty’s boundless enthusiasm makes him want to see it all over again through his eyes.

“My dad took me to see it,” Marty explains. “I must’ve been about… nine?… And yeah, it’s about aliens, and that’s cool, but it’s about way more than that. Connection, love, and music, Doc. How music brings us all together. How it can help us save the world. That’s why I think it’s my favorite movie— if I had to pick just one, y’know? Plus… I think it’s the first— hell, maybe the only— time I remember my dad being happy. Really, actually happy. I, uh… I guess that doesn’t make any sense, does it?” He runs his hand along his upper arm, looking away as a shadow clouds his features.

“Marty, my boy, it makes all the sense in the world.” Emmett gives him a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “Let’s make some more popcorn and get started.”

Marty’s smile returns in an instant.