#HACKY SACK IS HARD THOUGH!!!!

[aurazoo]

I bought a hacky sack today. so. you know. I'm that kinda girl.

#as if the aura of weed smoke and beanie didnt give it away #HACKY SACK IS HARD THOUGH!!!!

[latinoperce]

rick riordan you became the thing you swore so much to destroy. why change some of these things in the show??? the thing im most angry about is that the changes are either purely nonsensical or just done poorly

theyve completely eliminated the books sense of urgency, like theres no stakes on anything. you can miss the deadline and everythings fixed with a little talk with zeus. you recognize medusa and crusty and the lotus hotel right out of the gate, and obviously the only conclusion is that kronos is behind everything even though hes supposed to be locked in the deepest part of tartarus and youre a 12yo who just got thrown into this life and is just learning that monsters are real. fights are over in 30 seconds and theres no injuries or consequences except for an off screen comment on how you lost your bag or maybe a new stain on your shirt. theyre 12 but also they know everything there is to know about the greek myths.

in the books they learn and realize things as they go! its the experiences that change percy and grover and annabeth and things are supposed to be HARD because theyre kids!!! and they were sent on a mission they shouldnt have been sent on, but they get through it with each other and with a sense of comedy because theyre fucking kids! yea theyre gonna almost die and then say hello to gladiola the pink poodle, and play hacky sack on the bus stop, and stuff themselves with cheeseburgers every chance they get bc kids arent supposed all knowing and mature all the time

you cant promise a faithful adaptation of a book and then change the basic things that made the book be loved in the first place

#i could complain even more and i will tbh #i can still complain more abt the tone of the show and the pacing before even getting started on the characters themselves #like rick fell into the stereotypes he obviously was trying to destroy #annabeth became an all mature girl who knows everything and had her kid traits basically erased #percy now knows everything too to show hes not as dumb as ppl say he is #and grover is divided in this weird amalgamation of comedic relief and manipulation mastermind to do exactly what? #everythings been sanitized to all hell and all violence has to be shown in a controled setting that erases any actual evidence of it #rr crit #pjo show crit #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo tv crit #pjo #rant

[dwritesit]

easier

Summary: Dewdrop feels like he is too hard to love. They love him anyways.

Tags: raindrop of course, polyghouls, hurt/comfort, self-esteem issues, implied sexual content

Inspired by The Death of Peace of Mind by kroas_adtam because the "I would have been easier to love as a water-ghoul" line literally haunts me. also i wrote this a while ago but i forgot to post it here

Read here on AO3, or under the cut!

Dewdrop has a thought - one that crosses his mind with frustrating recurrence. He tries not to entertain it, tries not to let it sink in too deep, or let the words build too heavy, but he feels it. It kicks at the back of his mind like Mountain’s foot on the drum pedal when he bites out harsh words at Cumulus who just wanted to make sure he was okay. It twists its way into his chest, thick and suffocating, when Rain’s arm is draped over his waist in the silence of his room, hot puffs of even air fanning across his cheeks. The thought pounds at his stomach like Aether’s fists on his door, begging Dew to let him in, please let me in. The thought whispers it too, lacking the plead in Aether’s voice, it demands Let Me In. 

And Dewdrop fights it. He shoves it back with a snap of quick wit when Swiss suggests he might need something soft to hold when he fucks him hard and deep, offering Dewdrop’s hand a gentle squeeze where they’re intertwined against the sheets. It punches the desire out of his gut and makes his lip curl up in disgust just before telling Swiss there’s something else you can squeeze instead. That quiets the voice, the thought, for a moment when Swiss’ large, warm hand rests against his throat. Though it pipes up again when he can feel his own pulse on the multi-ghoul’s finger tips, reminding him that his life rests in the mercy of Swiss’ careful compress. Let me in.

He ignores it again. He passes it back and forth on his knees and ankles like a hacky-sack when it threatens him. He forces his eyes open wider, willing his mind to zero back in on Aurora’s ramblings while she paints his nails. She paints them black without asking, because she knows him a bit too well, settling a bit too comfortably into Dew’s life considering how long she’d been on earth. His hand twitches in her soft grasp, itching to rip away and cut like a knife. So, he does. But it’s less of a knife and more of a worn out wooden spoon, frayed around the edges, as an excuse leaves his lips. He tries to smile through the ache in his chest when she gives him a concerned frown, and he despises the way his eyes sting as he forces out, I’m okay, just tired , before patting her head as he scoots off the stool to leave. He feels her eyes on the back of his head as he walks away. LET ME IN , the voice screams when he twists his face and refuses to cry.

And then when he’s there in his own room - not Rain’s where he fell asleep tangled up most nights, not Mountain’s soft, plush nest that never failed to make him drowsy, or Phantom’s exciting chamber filled with trinkets to occupy his mind - his room, it could sneak up on him. His room was clean, partially from his need for space to concentrate, not allowing clutter to fill his mind or his surroundings, and another in part because he really did not spend much time in it since the change. Scorch marks stained the furniture and the walls, black and smokey, that never seemed to go away no matter how he scrubbed at them (Copia offered to buy him paints to cover them, and to help him too, but Dewdrop had slammed the door shut on his Papa and curled up in the corner to stare at the marks instead). They were reminders now. Reminders of who he is, and who he will never be. He avoided his room until he couldn't anymore. Until the feelings welled up and he had nowhere else to hide. And that is where the voice would start to win.

You would have been easier to love if…

If you were soft.

If you were kind.

If you were quieter.

Calmer.

Brighter.

More thoughtful.

More giving.

If you were more and if you were less.

You would have been easier to love as a water ghoul.

The words spill over and down Dewdrop’s cheeks, wracking his body with sobs when he curls up with his back against the wall and his knees pulled to his chest. 

You do not deserve them . His pack. He does not deserve them after what he did. 

Once he was all sparkling blue skin and dark sleek hair, perky and cute and all of the things that the others cherished and desired. He still had his spark, his quick tongue, but he had smiled more - let his lovers hold him and mold him until he fit right into their mouths and bodies. He laughed loud and often, wearing his emotions like bold flowering tattoos on his skin, never letting them doubt for one moment that he loved them all. He kissed Mountain’s cheek in the morning before they sank into their routine of making breakfast together, humming as they knocked into each other with quiet giggles, and letting his stomach swoop when the earth ghoul hugged him close to his body against the counter. Now, their mornings were quieter. It was still always the two of them up before the others, dipping into a silent rhythm of making coffee and pancakes. Mountain tried humming, tried nudging at Dew with his feet, tossing him soft, sympathetic smiles that made bile rise in Dew’s throat. He watched that smile fall, fall, and fall again until Mountain did not try anymore. A sick part of Dew reveled in it, that he had shaken off the softness, like he had proved that he was not as good as Mountain claimed he was. Another smaller, muffled part of him was begging him to give in, to let Mountain wash his gentle hands over his small waist and rock back and forth in the kitchen until the pancakes were burnt on the bottom and the coffee went cold. 

You do not deserve to give in , the voice reminded him. He was not their water-ghoul anymore. He was not their sweet, loving Dewdrop. He didn’t even deserve the name, Dewdrop. 

Another sob coursed through his frame, his whole body shaking with it until it burst from his mouth all strangled and wet. He felt stupid, he felt pathetic, by letting the voice speak to him and etch its way onto his skin. 

You are not soft enough.

You are not pretty enough.

You are not smart enough, or strong enough.

You are not good enough for them. 

It choked him, clamping down on his chest and throat like he was being crushed by the depth of the sea. He lifted his hands and dug into his hair, pulling at it to feel the sting where the fibers latched onto his scalp. The cries kept coming until he was gasping and he wished so badly that he was good enough for one of his mates, all of his mates, that he could reach out and ask them to hold him, soothe him , like a young kit until he could catch his breath and snuggle into their warmth. 

He imagined how they might kiss his forehead and wipe away his tears with the pads of their thumbs, and it ached . He let his mind reach out for the ache, let it burn through his chest and bubble up his throat to turn into more cries and whimpers that tumbled out and echoed off his stupid, burnt walls. He thought about how they might say his name. Like they used to. Soft and kind, Dewdrop. Water lily. Droplet. 

Dewdrop.

Dewdrop.

"Dewdrop."

"Dewdrop!"

Dew’s head shot up, heart pounding in his chest. He felt the color drain from his body, heat replaced by chill like he was a prey who had been caught. 

"Dew, please open the door." It was Rain. 

Dew couldn’t stop the next cry that left his lips, crying for his mate. His chest kept aching, his breaths getting faster. He wished he could stand and open the door but his body was frozen on the hardwood, clutching at his head and the space above his heart. 

"Baby, please." 

Too sweet, too soft, you do not deserve this.

When he did not respond again, he heard mumbling and the rustling of keys. His heart thumped heavily. A key slid into the lock with a sleek slide, Rain rushing out a quick warning that he was coming in before turning it all the way because he was ever the gentleman even like this. Even to Dewdrop. 

Dew turned his head when the door opened, trying to fold in on himself, wishing he could flip inside out so no one could see the blotchiness of his cheeks or the way his hands shook when he moved his hair to cover his face. 

"Let me go in first," Rain said to someone behind him before Dewdrop heard the door click shut once more and soft, bare footsteps followed by the drag of a tail padded over to where he sat. 

And then there were arms around him. 

And Dewdrop cried again, harder and louder if it were even possible. Rain’s arms were sturdy where they slowly turned Dew into his body, scooping him up until he was folded around the fire ghoul's shaking form. 

"It’s okay, baby." Rain said, using the petname he reserved only for Dewdrop and only in times like these. The voice laughed, poking at Dew with a hot iron, he wouldn't hold you like this if he had known you before. If he knew how much colder you are as a fire-ghoul, if he knew how much dimmer, and saltier, and weaker you are now. 

A soft hand pulled at his mind as it laid on his cheek. He hiccupped, hating the way he leaned into Rain's touch. He took in a shaky breath, eyes beginning to stare out into the expanse as the storming sea of emotions pulled him under, trying to drown him. It was peaceful, like acceptance. That he was in fact,

Weak.

Ugly.

Wrong.

"Where are you?" Rain said, his voice the softest, most pleading whisper. To Dewdrop, it felt like a hand grasping his where he reached up towards the surface, where the light shone through the water. It threatened to pull him out into the open air and subject him to the ache and the waves again. He wanted to thrash against it, tear his hand from Rain’s strong grip and keep sinking, but Rain was strong and Dew wanted to dive into his embrace.

Rain leaned his forehead against Dewdrop’s, their horns clacking together as he pressed firmly. His tail intertwined with Dew’s. Dew could feel his mate's distress and worry tugging at his heart, the beautiful and unfortunate part of being so tightly tied to one another. It wasn't pity Rain was feeling, It was empathy. And Dew didn't know what to do with it when it washed over him, but he knew he did not want Rain to be sad. Especially not for him, so he leaned into Rain, letting him hold him and mold him to his chest. He breathed in deep, familiar petrichor filling his senses, slowing his heart rate. He let that hand pull him up, up, up until he breached the surface.

He took another deep breath that shuddered through his small body. Rain ran his other hand that was not on his face over his spine in slow sweeping motions. A few remaining tears trickled over his hot cheeks, and this time Rain’s thumb was there to catch them. Dew leaned into him further. The sea was calm, the voice was quieter. 

“What happened?” Rain asked, leaning back enough to see Dew’s face, but never letting him go. 

Dewdrop struggled to raise his head, keeping his eyes fixated on Rain’s chest where one of his hands had clutched and dug in. The shirt was torn from his claws, and he had to resist another deprecating thought.

He hiccupped around his next breath of air, trying to get the words out, but they were lodged in his throat. The voice, while quieter, still called him an attention seeker, a waste of space, undeserving of Rain’s warm gaze. 

“I-” His voice was crackly and raw. Rain asked if he needed water and Dewdrop shook his head. He feared that if he didn’t let it out now, he might never have the strength again. “It’s hard,” he started. 

What’s hard? How do I explain this? How do I explain to you that sometimes when you look at me, when the others look at me like you love me, it feels like I’m dying.

“It’s hard to let you love me.” He said, quiet. Weak. “I don’t- I don’t deserve it.”

He waited for the sting. Something that would prove the voice and the thoughts right. Flashes of the anger haunted his memories, the stupid words he spat at Rain when he was first summoned, how he stormed out of every room the water ghoul entered, resisting his kindness at every turn and corner, and how Rain kept coming back no matter what - Dew could not handle that sort of love. He needed Rain to be mad at him too, to fight back, to finally say what he has been probably thinking all these years later; that Dew was and is too hard to love, and most certainly did not deserve it.

There was no sting though.

There was only Rain pulling Dew back into his chest, stronger and firmer than before. He tucked his head into the crook between Dew’s neck and shoulder, his breath whispering on his skin and making him shiver.

" You are everything to me." Rain said. He said it with power, with force, with a sort of roundness to it that had Dew pulling back and gently tilting Rain’s head back, finally looking at his face and finding his blue eyes glistening with tears. Shining with adoration. It brought wetness back to Dew’s on eyes, and he felt his lip quiver. 

"I love you, Dewdrop." Rain said, and again "You are everything. I know it's hard, I know. Let me do this- let us do this with you." 

Dew sniffled, "I don't know how."

"We will figure it out together. Oh," He brushed a strand of gold hair behind Dewdrop's ear, his lips upturned in a small smile, "You are pretty even when you cry, sweetheart." 

Dewdrop scoffed, but couldn't help his own smile. 

Rain’s hand rested on his cheek again, and this time Dew was unashamed in the way he soaked up his warmth, closing his eyes and kissing his palm.

"Will you let us in? Let us see you like this." Rain asked. Dew nodded into his hand, biting his lip. Rain pressed a lingering kiss to his head, his horns, his cheeks, to his nose and chin, and then to his lips. "Let us love you." 

"Okay."

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop #raindrop ghost #dwritesit #raindrop fic #rain ghost

[quitealotofsodapop]

So what if 2019 nezha visits lmk au nezha and lmk nezha visits 2019's home and family?

And something tells me that lmk nezha is uncomfortable around 2019's father and i can also imagine

Some of the monkie gang and swk taging along with him.

2019!Nezha I feel doesn't listen much to the LMK adults, cus duh they're boring adults. Runs around causing havoc on FFM and in the city if left to his own devices. But he gets along like a house on fire with Mei.

Mei, trying to keep the kid occupied: "You like games, little man?" 2019!Nezha: "I'm not little!... but I like Jianzi." Mei: "Ooo! Ye' old hacky-sack. We can do that." 2019!Nezha: "Ok, your funeral." 2019!Nezha: *kicks the Jianzi so hard Mei gets tossed back a few feet* Mei, stunned for only a second: "That... was... wicked! C'mon! Let me see how hard I kick it back!" 2019!Nezha: "Aren't you hurt?" Mei: "I'm a dragon, dummy. I've been hurt worse by MK's cooking." 2019!Nezha, delighted grin: "Ok! But I won't hold back!" Mei, lines up her like: "Don't expect you to, mini-Nezha!" 2019!Nezha: "I'm not mini!"

MK, Bai He, and (reluctantly) Red join in later. Eventually that game ends when the jianzi catches fire.

In the case of the au where Nezha is pretty much adopted by Shadowpeach? 2019!Nezha feels... weird. They're kinda almost what he dreamed a "normal" family was like - a dad who loves him openly, and a mom/bama who's not afraid of him... feels good but Weird. He will stay a little longer for some dad jokes and another mooncake.

For LMK!Nezha though? He's very uncomfy right now.

Seeing what amounts to a younger version of himself is creeoy enough, but seeing a past version of his hometown/family home? Freaks him tf out.

Then he sees his dad??? And his mom?!?

Blue screen error.

2019!Lady Yin is crying immediately. LMK!Nezha almost looks like what she imagines her own son would like had he been able to grow up. 2019!Li Jing is convinced that the LMK!Nezha is some kind of imposter and tries cutting him down. LMK!Nezha *quickly* grabs Li Jing's sword and disarms him peacefully.

LMK!Nezha: "Please understand, if you had been the father I knew; I would have turned that sword on you. Your true son is safe where he is. Hug him more often." *looks sadly at Lady Yin before leaving on his fire skates*

Both 2019!Nezha parents are very confused.

LMK!Nezha def hangs with Taiyi Zhenren for a bit though, even though he's probably not the same one as who taught him. Just nice to be reminded of his old master.

#lmk nezha #nezha 2019 #wukongverse #lmk #lego monkie kid #the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #long xiaojiao #lmk mei

[toxicpineapple]

‘ keep your eyes open. ’ or ‘ go on, cry. ’ oumami ? bats my eyelashes so nicey

Rantaro is a funny sort of person. The kind who always feels like he has to pretend to be okay. Maybe because there are things he thinks he shouldn’t feel emotional over, whether because they happen a lot or simply because he doesn’t think he has the right to.

They’ve been working hard this week, but despite their best efforts (as well as several failed leads), they have only made marginal progress at finding Rantaro’s oldest sister. Marginal, in the sense that knowing where Aki isn’t narrows down the number of places she could be… but really negligible in the great scheme of things. Kokichi can tell that Rantaro is frustrated as they make their way back to the hotel, mostly because Rantaro doesn’t speak, and when they do return to their hotel room, he disappears into the bathroom for half an hour.

You’d think Rantaro would realise Kokichi knows him better than that by now, though. He gives Rantaro his sulk time alone in the bathroom, because he’s earned it, but when it reaches the twenty eight minute mark, Kokichi decides he’s had enough. He picks up a hacky sack from his luggage and throws it against the bathroom door with a loud thwap.

The sack hits the floor. Then the door opens, revealing Rantaro, who looks… a bit out of it, but his eyes are dry. No tears in there. How annoying. It’s fine if he wants to hide away from Kokichi, but he has to at least emote about it if he’s going to.

“Sorry, was I taking too long?”

“Yeah. I have to pee.”

Rantaro’s eyes dart down to the carpet. “Sorry.”

That isn’t really the reaction Kokichi was hoping for. He gets to his feet, pouting as he pads across the hotel room to stand in front of his friend. Rantaro starts to vacate the bathroom, but Kokichi lifts an arm and puts his hand on the doorframe, caging him in.

“It’s fine. That was just a lie.” Kokichi frowns as he says it, raising an eyebrow at Rantaro, who barely seems to react to that information beyond exhaling and giving the slightest of nods.

It doesn’t seem like Rantaro is planning on saying anything. This really is so annoying. Looks like Kokichi has to do all the damn work around here.

“What are you waiting for, Amami-chan?”

“Uh…” Rantaro looks at Kokichi’s arm. “You to move?”

Kokichi exhales. “No, I mean… it’s been a shitty week and we didn’t even find your sister for it. What are you waiting for? Go on, cry.”

It seems to take Rantaro off guard, because when he opens his mouth to respond, nothing comes out. He just blinks, staring at Kokichi in disbelief, and then slowly closes his lips. Swallows audibly. When his lower lip begins to tremble, Kokichi doesn’t say a word. He does, however, lower his hand from the doorframe.

Rantaro is tall, significantly taller than Kokichi, so when he slumps forward, his curls falling into his eyes, Kokichi has to sort of reach up to catch him, arms looping around Rantaro’s neck. He lets the other man drop into him, his hands meeting at the top of Rantaro’s spine, closing his eyes as he hears quiet, restrained sobs start to spill into his shirt.

Kokichi doesn’t say anything. There’s not really anything to say, at least not while Rantaro is crying. He’ll surely be embarrassed that this happened later. Maybe even already is. Kokichi will let him take the lead when the time comes, whether he wants to talk about it or not.

He just couldn’t stand seeing Rantaro walking around like everything is fine, is all.

#oumami #ouma kokichi #amami rantaro #i will take any excuse to maim him

[phoenixkaptain]

From countless hours of research (watching movies/reading comics/reading books/contemplation), I have finally reached the conclusion that the only real benefits to being related to the Force (as in being a Force baby, as in being Anakin Skywalker or being anyone related to Anakin Skywalker) are:

1. You can do all the Force tricks (probably. There may be some Anakin can’t do, but apparently he can even do the one that requires four throats, so I’m pretty sure if Anakin “couldn’t do it” he actually just didn’t try all that hard)

2. You can walk off any and all injuries. Leia gets tortured unspeakably by Darth Vader, still continues to lie to their faces and sass the short Stormtrooper. Luke gets Force Lightning’d like four times and still drags his dad over to a ship and lights a pyre for him and does the while end of the movie as though nothing happened. Not to mention Luke’s hypothermia and the whole of Bespin and didn’t he get thrown into a table in the first movie? And I know falling (jumping) from great heights is a Jedi thing, but how many times has Anakin or Luke crash-landed a ship and improbably lived?

And that’s just the movies! The Marvel comics show Luke getting beaten every way to Sunday and still being pretty A-OK. He just walks it off! He gets tossed around like a hacky sack and then gets up and says “That was a bit rough. Oh well” and continues with his day. In the Clone Wars tv show, Anakin is shown to have a broken leg and still manages to climb a massive tree.

Admittedly, I don’t have that much evidence for Leia. She unfortunately inherited her parents’ abilities to avoid capture and on the rare occasion she is captured, she gets out pretty fast. Somehow, Luke inherited Obi-Wan damsel genes, despite not actually being related to him, it’s a feat scientific wonder-

So yeah. If the Force is your dad/grand-dad, all you have to look forward to is misery, pain, and bones made of rubber.

#star wars prequels #star wars the original trilogy #star wars #the clone wars #star wars comics #luke skywalker #leia organa #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #darth vader #the force #character analysis #the inane ramblings of a madman #anakin is half force #which i guess #makes him half indescribable matter with strange properties #so rubber bones make sense scientifically #trust me i’m a scientist #i have done at least one science experiment before i am science

[seahdalune]

Liezel negativity, possible Hacky Zak negativity

(it’s honestly pretty mild to actually call it that, but y’know, you have been warned)

i’m worried i’m not gonna like the chef pair for this game.

ok, yeah, that is bound to happen. like, everyone has their likes and dislikes… but.

it’s defos a consequence of fan voting, but no matter how hard i think about the two, i can’t think of a dynamic that i vibe with.

the problem, unfortunately, stems from Liezel being a big, massive…. personality nothingburger.

(and maybe also me just not caring/disliking? Hacky Zak, but that’s a relatively minor thing)

like, ok- she has an in-depth backstory, and she’s the first trans character made (though i’m not sure if she’s the first confirmed trans character because Treble was confirmed to be nonbinary via forum) which won the hearts of a lot of Papa Louie and non-Papa Louie fans.

and that’s all she has.

and yes, she’s a spumoni fan, but i don’t know how to gel that with “slacker who likes to play hacky sack”, or make that part of her personality without making her straight up obsessed with it.

(she did use to play American Football, but is that a thing to be left in her past, or does

i was really hoping that the Wendy’s Wheels flipdeck could at least provide with some minor hints about her personality, but after reading about nothing but spumoni again… i have a feeling not even the devs have any ideas for her.

with that said, this is also pretty typical for Flipline to keep written down lore minor, so this isn’t really anything new. maybe i just need to gaslight myself into thinking she has a personality, much like everyone else.

#shitpostdalune

[fff777]

Watched Sechan in Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, Manila, and Bangkok

Oh wow, this video is half an hour long.

How do fans know when celebrities get to the airport ToT There were so many fans there to greet them.

Sehun gym rat mode. He looks like a fairly relaxed exerciser. Key word "looks" because I'm pretty sure he's trying hard lol.

Chanyeol sneezing while playing keyboard is a mood.

Lmao Chanyeol playing with the different sounds on the keyboard is also a mood.

So the other members only let Sehun think he won. Boy, I think that means letting him win XD

It looks like the translator was translating in English.

Sechan struggling with Malaysian.

Singing with bunny headbands :3

I wonder what song Chanyeol sang and played on guitar :3 Anyway the fans loved it.

Sehun: I'm going to throw up soon *continues to eat*

Ah, the famed Singaporean chili crab

Sehun is such a messy eater lmfao.

Oh man, Sehun is unhinged on this day. He can't be stopped.

Chanyeol: Are you listening?

Chanyeol's words bouncing off of Sehun XD

Chanyeol needs attention!!

I can't believe this, Sehun needed to fix his goggles and he just gave it to Chanyeol to fix for him lol.

Is Chanyeol trying to pull Sehun's swimming shorts down ToT

I can't believe the guys are seriously swimming by the way, like brought their goggles and all. I thought they were just going to chill by the poolside lol. I feel like Chanyeol couldn't just chill by the poolside though. He always goes all out.

Of course they're going to mess around in the water though, that's a given.

Chanyeol likes Star Lord ToT Of course he would.

Chanyeol was surprised that Sehun knew who Groot was lmao. Well, as I said before, Sehun is a guy who goes outside, so I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't in on the nerd culture stuff.

Sehun kissed the poster, so mushy >A<

Pew pew

Sehun once again putting stickers on Chanyeol's face.

Chanyeol once again with the bunny ear headband.

Watching Sehun kick the hacky sack reminds me of Busted.

Assassin Sehun hmm....

Sehun wants everything that's Chanyeol's. Sehun: Give me your bank account.

Sehun is manly in Chanyeol's eyes.

Is Chanyeol learning a Tagalog song for the Manila show? :D I do appreciate that he performs local favourites.

More stickers on Chanyeol's face.

Playing fighting arcade games in Bangkok waiting room.

Like I said with the Yixing vlog, the claw is WAY TOO loose. Claw machines are a scam!!!!!!!

Like in Busted, Sehun spending way too much time at the claw machine lmao.

Wait, who won those toys then???

Omfg Chanyeol actually got the squirtle XD

Sehun literally asking Chanyeol to go easy on him in the fighting game. Maknae favouritism is real.

#screencaps & commentaries #exo #exo sc #park chanyeol #oh sehun #chanyeol & sehun

[timelesslords]

it’s just around the corner darling (‘cause it lives in me)

8-year-old Annabeth is supposed to be sleeping. Instead, she overhears a few things she probably shouldn't.

***

Aka I get very in my feels about pre-TLT found family and baby Annabeth

“She’s a little kid, of course she’s fuckin’ slow.”

Thalia’s words seemed to turn Annabeth’s blood to ice.

She was supposed to be sleeping, and she almost had been before Grover and Thalia had started yelling at each other outside the door of the safe house they’d just barely made it too.

Well, until Thalia had started yelling at Grover, because Grover didn’t really yell, and he definitely didn’t yell at Thalia, who he always seemed particularly nervous and twitchy around.

All thoughts of sleeping were immediately banished as panic seized Annabeth instead.

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She kept herself as still as possible, eyes shut like she was sleeping. She heard Luke shift, maybe looking over his shoulder.

Annabeth wished she could see his face. Did he think she was slow too? Did Grover want to leave her behind? Luke would never let that happen, Annabeth knew that much, but she couldn’t help the guilt from washing over her anyway. Luke had had to carry her the last few miles tonight because her legs just wouldn’t work anymore, not matter how hard she tried to push them. That had only happened a few times ever, Annabeth made sure of it, but she knew they were trying to go fast now, and they were walking and running more than they ever had before. Luke hadn’t been mad, just scooped her up when he saw her stumbling. But they had gone slower after that, and it was her fault.

Annabeth felt her eyes prickle with tears, and she blinked them into her makeshift pillow. Crying was stupid, and it wasnt going to make her faster. She willed herself to stop before anyone could hear— Luke thought she was asleep, and she didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t.

Thalia and Grover were talking again, but their voices were just barely too quiet for her to make out the words. Thalia sounded mad, and Grover was talking fast, like he was trying to get the words out before Thalia yelled at him again. Annabeth picked up Grover saying “please” a few times, and then Thalia saying “no” very forcefully. They argued for another minute, Annabeth’s heart beating in nervous anticipation for each word.

“Don’t bring it up again,” Thalia snapped, loud enough for Annabeth to hear, and then she heard the door of the safe house being pulled back, and soft footsteps walking inside.

“Is she asleep?” Thalia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a sharp contrast from the tone she’d been using outside with Grover. Luke must have nodded, because Thalia sighed, and Annabeth heard her sitting down.

“What was that all about?” Luke asked. Annabeth could hear the forced casual tone he was putting on. If Annabeth had heard part of the conversation then Luke must have too, but he seemed like he wanted Thalia herself to tell him. Thalia made a displeased noise.

“Grover wants me and him to go ahead. Without you two,” she said, lowering her voice even more than she had when she first entered the safe house. Despite how quiet they were, Annabeth could still practically feel the distaste in her words. Annabeth could feel her heart speeding up uncomfortably. Was Thalia going to leave them behind? But she didn’t sound happy about it at all, and that calmed Annabeth’s nerves a little.

“What did you say?” Luke asked. The forced tone was gone, replaced by irritation, Annabeth thought. It was harder to tell without being able to see his expression, but Annabeth could imagine the frown on his face pretty well.

“I told him where he could stick his furry little hooves,” Thalia muttered bitterly. Annabeth didn’t quite understand what that meant, but judging from the way Luke snorted it was probably kind of rude.

“Bet he liked that,” Luke said, sarcastically.

“Whatever. He’s the reason we’re behind anyway,” Thalia said.

She sounded angry. Annabeth knew that shouldn’t make her feel good. Thalia being mad never tended to end well, regardless of where her anger was directed. But Annabeth couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief anyway. If Thalia was angry at Grover’s suggestion then that meant wasn’t leaving.

At the same time, her words filled Annabeth with dread. They were behind, and that was bad, and Annabeth was slowing them down. Even Thalia had said so.

“Why did he want to split up at all? Isn’t three fighters better than one?” Luke asked. The forced casualness was back, and Annabeth didn’t like it, but she couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride that he’d counted her as one of the fighters in the group.

Thalia sighed again, and Annabeth heard a scraping noise. A second later the heat from the campfire flared.

“He said it would be faster,” Thalia said finally, reluctantly, “And that it might be safer for you two to not have me around.”

“That’s bullshit,” Luke said, angrily.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What, you think you’re special?” Luke said, though now his tone was laced with amusement.

“Well apparently I smell extra tasty,” Thalia replied, only a hint sarcastic. Luke laughed, low and quiet.

“I don’t think it matters,” he said, “Annie had monsters crawling all over her all by herself.”

Annabeth had to actively repress a shudder at the thought. She couldn’t move, couldn’t let them figure out she was awake— they would stop talking about adult things and she would miss it.

“That’s true,” Thalia said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“You’re not thinking about it, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Thalia said, sounding offended that Luke had even asked, “I’m pissed he even brought it up, especially after Annabeth was the one to save all our asses from that cyclops. He kept saying she’s slowing us down but we’d all be dead without her.”

Annabeth felt the same mixture of dread and pride as before. She was useful enough to not leave behind. Even if she was slow, and thinking of the cyclops cave made her want to cry.

“Asshole. He’s the one slowing us down, not knowing where the fuck he’s going,” Luke muttered darkly.

“I almost feel bad for the guy,” Thalia sighed. Annabeth heard more scraping and felt the fire flare again. “I mean he’s a kid just like us.”

“A kid who’s going to get us all killed if we’re not careful.”

Thalia hummed in agreement, and they were quiet for a minute. Annabeth didn’t really know what to think. She liked Grover— he was funny and he let her touch his hooves and he taught her how to play hacky sack— but she could tell that Luke didn’t and Thalia was starting not to. And Grover apparently didn’t like her. Or he thought she was slow, at least— but that made Thalia and Luke mad, even if they thought it was true. It was all very confusing, but she thought Luke and Thalia were on her side, at least.

“Is it weird I like watching her sleep?” Thalia asked, finally. With a start Annabeth realized they were talking about her. She tried extra hard to keep her breathing even.

“Why, ‘cause she’s not chattering your ear off?” Luke teased. Annabeth heard a soft thump and Luke’s laughter, and knew Thalia had probably punched him in the arm.

“I’d have her chat my ear off any day than have her be quiet like she’s been,” Thalia said. Luke didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the campfire. Annabeth could feel both their eyes on her, and she forced herself to keep looking asleep.

“I think the whole cyclops thing really freaked her out,” Thalia sighed, when Luke hadn’t spoken for a minute.

“Of course it freaked her out, she watched us all almost get eaten,” he snapped, his voice angry. Annabeth’s stomach turned. She tried to keep her expression smooth, even though she could practically smell the cyclops’ lair again. She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose, or better yet, open her eyes and confirm that she wasn’t back there again. Their voices weren’t good enough to do that anymore, not after the monster had stolen them. She repressed another shudder.

“Well that’s why we have to get to this camp thing, right? So she doesn’t have to see shit like that anymore.”

Thalia sounded calm, not mad, but when Luke spoke again he still sounded angry.

“Bit late for that,” he said, voice quiet and bitter, and Thalia sighed again.

“Better late than never.”

Luke didn’t say anything.

Annabeth felt nerves swoop through her stomach. Did Luke not want to go to camp? He’d made it sound nice when he’d told her about it, but now he just sounded mad. Thalia wanted to, and that was a comforting thought for a minute until Annabeth remembered that Grover had wanted to split them up. But Thalia had also said she wasn’t leaving, and she’d sounded sure about that. Everything was so confusing, and Annabeth didn’t know how to figure it out. It didn’t help that her brain felt dizzy from being tired.

It took a while for either of them to talk again, to the point where Annabeth had almost drifted off to sleep for real. When Thalia spoke again her voice was quiet, so much so that Annabeth almost thought she dreamed it.

“She looks relaxed. Like a normal kid on a camping trip or something. That’s why I like watching her sleep.”

Luke sighed, heavy and deep.

“You should get some too,” he said, not really acknowledging Thalia’s words.

“You need to rest too,” Thalia said, lightly, “Grover’s keeping watch.”

Luke snorted again at that, but it was much less humorous this time. Thalia didn’t seem amused, anyway.

“Come on. You’re exhausted.”

“I’ll wake you up in a few hours and we can switch,” Luke said. Thalia made an annoyed noise, but didn’t say anything else. Annabeth felt someone lie down next to her, felt light fingers adjust the jacket she was using as a blanket so it covered her arms more fully.

Annabeth didn’t want to sleep. She knew there would be nightmares waiting for her the second she slipped out of consciousness, and she didn’t want to see them again.

But they would be walking a lot tomorrow, and she couldn’t walk if she was tired. And if she couldn’t walk then she would slow them down even more than she already was.

So instead of resisting it anymore, she let the exhaustion wash over her, pulling her into bad dreams. It would be okay in the morning. Her family would be there when she woke up, and she wasn’t going to let them down.

#it’s about the found family of it all ya know #annabeth chase #pre-TLT #Thalia grace #luke castellan #PJO #PJO fic #baby Annabeth #percy jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fic #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fic #I swear I’m still working on the PD2 AU!!! this just hit me over the head I had to write it #I made this on mobile so I’m sorry if the formatting is ass lol

[sankyeom]

batter up! | e.s

pairings: eric sohn x female reader genre: baseball player!eric, college au, strangers to lovers,  summary: in which you are assigned to interview the unapproachable baseball team ace eric sohn, and things end up going sideways word count: 6.1k (did i get carried way with the concept? yes i did) requested: nope i literally have other requests from months ago that i should get to but i’ve been having writers block and i couldn’t write any of them without it sounding awful sooooo here we are!!! enjoy lol note: all of the boyz are the same age for the sake of the story. also, the start of the plot is based on rowoon’s episode of sf9’s drama click your heart. 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

“So, you want to join newspaper,” the newspaper editor, Choi Chanhee, said as he crossed his arms and surveyed you. It was the start of the second semester, and you soon realised that you had very few clubs and activities under your belt. “What makes you think I’ll let you join in the middle of the year?” Chanhee inquired, raising an eyebrow in question. His full cheeks and baby pink hair usually made him seem approachable and soft, but his hard expression cancelled out any comfort his other features might have brought you.

You blinked at him. “We’ve been best friends since freshman year?” you deadpanned, irritated that Chanhee was making such a big deal out of it. From the corner of the room, you noticed Changmin suppress a giggle by clearing his throat and pretending to cough into the bend of his elbow. “Come on, Chanhee. You’re a reporter short since Bomin quit, right?” you recalled what he had been moaning about for nearly three months. “I can fill in for him! I’ll be great.”

Despite being your best friend and normally having quite a warm personality, Chanhee was skeptical. “Alright,” he decided, drawing the word out and unfolding his arms. Chanhee sauntered over to where Changmin was standing and – after giving him a sharp elbow to the ribs – grabbed his clipboard, pretending to look for something to assign you. You could tell by the ways his eyes didn’t even skim the words that he already had something in mind for you. “If you’re so desperate to join the paper, then you can do the interview on Eric Sohn,” he stated, giving you a challenging look.

So much for him “going easy on you”, as he had said moments before the two of you entered the media room together.

Dramatically, a few gasps sounded through the media room and you sighed. “Who’s Eric Sohn?” you almost regretted asking, since everyone seemed mortified that you didn’t know him.

“He’s the baseball team’s ace,” Juyeon explained while trying to balance his water bottle on his head. It was half full and he had been at it for the entire time you tried to convince Chanhee to let you join newspaper. “Unapproachable as hell, though. We’ve tried to interview him before and believe me, it was terrible,” he added with a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “He’s a friend of ours but he doesn’t really say much.”

“Everyone wants to know more about him,” Chanhee elaborated, causing your eyes to flicker back to your best friend. “And if I want to be the best editor in history of the paper, I’m getting that story,” he smiled sweetly, as if he hadn’t given you – what seemed like – an impossible job. “Like you said, you’ll be great!” Chanhee pumped a fist in the air half-heartedly to encourage you.

Sunwoo snorted, lying across three chairs he had lined up for him to curl up on. “Or not,” he sang, tossing a hacky sack between his hands with ease. “Eric’s my best friend and the last time I tried to interview him, he yelled at me for interrupting his practice and had the coach kick me out,” Sunwoo seemed amused by the turn of events, but it didn’t motivate you to carry out your interview. “I’m banned from the baseball field now.”

It wasn’t long before other members of the paper brought up their own horror stories, describing attempts at interviewing the baseball team’s ace. The negativity in the room surprised you; it was supposedly only an interview assignment. Was Eric Sohn really that difficult to be around? And if so, why was your best friend making your first assignment so hard on you? 

“So far, this assignment has been proven impossible to complete,” Chanhee explained. “Do we all agree that if Y/n can do this, she gets to join newspaper? No questions asked?” he glanced around at his team of writers, photographers and editors. Immediately, the members all nodded. Chanhee smiled at you. 

Well, that answered your questions. 

Feeling burdened, you asked Chanhee, “How long do I have for this?”

Chanhee flicked through the stack of papers attached to his clipboard until he found the paper’s schedule. “I can give you about a month, but no more than that,” he insists. “I may be your best friend, but I do have a weekly paper to put out,” he adds, making you nod.

“A month is more than enough,” you promised. “On what days does the baseball team meet?”

The indoor baseball stadium your university had was cold in the mornings. Chanhee had managed to get Eric’s practice schedule from Sunwoo, and the next morning at 5:30am sharp, you arrived at the stadium to try and interview Eric. As you opened the main door, you could hear a loud and clear voice  telling everyone to do their warmups so they could start practicing. Since you didn’t know much about baseball, you decided to make your way towards the bleachers and watch the team practice for a while.

Chanhee had shown you a picture of Eric so you would know who you were looking for, and you were slightly miffed that it hadn’t done him any justice. He stood out much more in person; his features sharper and body leaner and stronger from the years of practice. You were almost intimidated by his overall aura and piercing gaze.

Checking your notes, you recalled basic information that Chanhee had given you so that you weren’t completely clueless going into your interview. Eric Sohn was the ace player because he was their best batter and fastest runner. This combination along with his precision allowed him to almost always hit home runs and also be an excellent fielder. A summary of his past scores had also been provided, but that might as well have been a completely different language because you couldn’t understand it.

With a sigh, you tightened your jacket around you in order to warm up more in the cool stadium. Watching Eric practice, you noticed that he wasn’t batting very well on that day. There was a crease between his brows and he kept hitting the ground with his bat in frustration, occasionally throwing it down staring at the floor in contemplation.

You really felt for him.

It was clear that the team relied on him a lot and his reputation of being unapproachable and cold surely couldn’t have been entirely fair, either. His coach was chastising him, pointing his finger and raising his voice as Eric stood still and nodded, face void of any expression. You assumed his coach had told him to take a break, because he started removing his batting gloves and making his way to the bench.

You knew it probably wasn’t the best time to approach him for a favour, but you had been sitting for nearly an hour and your legs and thighs were starting to feel numb. The walk down the steps was welcome, even when your heart raced with nerves as you approached Eric. When you were a few steps away from him, the boy glanced up and raised an eyebrow at you. “This is a closed practice,” he told you.

Of course he had to have the most incredible voice to go along with his looks. Great.

“Um,” You stammered dumbly for a moment, tucking your hair behind your ear to give your hands something to do. “I know. I just- I was hoping you had a moment?” you asked, voice far less confident than you had wished. “I’m on the university’s newspaper and I was assigned an interview on you.”

“On me,” Eric repeated, tilting his head to the side. “Chanhee really doesn’t give up, does he,” something resembling a chuckle left his lips. “I’m at practice right now,” his tone was firm, as if he was trying to tell you to leave without expressing those exact words.

You felt yourself nodding. “I get it… if you’re having a hard time with your practice,” you added, thinking back to how his coach yelled at him. “I understand that and I can leave you alone.”

Eric observed you; you weren’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he suddenly motioned towards you. “What’s the first question?” he asked. You were pleased that he had decided to do the interview and, in fear of him changing his mind again, immediately opened your notebook to search for the questions Chanhee had wanted answered.

“Right,” you said, finding the right page. “Um, what made you-“

“Heads up!” a shout distracted you from your thoughts. Your head whipped to the side to see who was shouting, only to see a baseball being hurtled at you at a blistering speed.

“Watch out!” Eric exclaimed, jumping in front of you to grab the baseball before it could smack you directly in the face. You flinched at the sound of his hand coming in contact with the baseball, stunned that he had expertly caught the tiny sphere at the speed it was going at.

Just as you were about to thank Eric for saving you, the boy fell to the ground, moaning in pain at the impact. The ball fell from his grasp and he held onto the hand that caught it with his other; tears building in his eyes. You kneeled down next to him, panicked. “Are you okay?” you questioned, concerned at his reaction.

“Sohn!” his coach yelled, running over to where you and Eric were crouched. “What the hell were you thinking, catching a fastball with your bare hands?” the man chastised, kneeling with the boy and calling the team medic over to inspect Eric’s hand.

“Is that bad?” you asked innocently, confused as to why Eric was in so much pain.

The coach gave you a glare. “Get out of my stadium,” he ordered instead of answering you.

You glanced between him and Eric, feeling embarrassed at the situation. “I’m really sorry,” you told Eric sincerely, picking up your abandoned bag and running out of the stadium.

Chanhee was going to kill you.

“I thought you wanted to be on the paper,” Chanhee said with a frown. “Not that you wanted the paper to write an article about you injuring the baseball team’s star player,” he emphasised, making you flinch.

“That isn’t fair!” you exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything wrong! If anything, we should be asking ourselves why a teammate of Eric’s blatantly hurled a baseball in his direction,” you tried to defend yourself. “And I was in the midst of getting that interview, thank you very much.”

“And now I’ll never get it,” Chanhee sighed. Younghoon rolled his eyes at your friend’s theatrics.

“Shouldn’t we be more concerned that our friend is injured than the fact that you didn’t get your story?” he reminded your pink-haired friend. Chanhee waved his hand at him, as if physically swatting Younghoon’s words away, before going back to picking at his lunch.

“Yeah Chanhee,” a voice behind you agreed, and you knew in your gut that it was Eric. Nervously, you turned around to face the blond and saw him already looking at you. Your eyes met and you were startled by how much warmer his deep brown eyes appeared. “You’re being a terrible friend.”

“Well you’re a terrible friend, too,” Chanhee argued. “How many reporters have I sent to interview you, only to have them be humiliated and turned down?” he asked.

“I’m injured,” Eric said as he took the empty seat between you and Kevin. “Can’t you lay off on the newspaper stuff for a while?” Chanhee rolled his eyes but said nothing; you knew this meant that he agreed with Eric but was too proud to voice it.

Eric’s mention of an injury made you glance down at his right hand, seeing it tightly wrapped in a bandage. “Are you okay?” you asked him, observing his hand.

“It’s a sprain,” Eric explained, lifting his hand up for your friends to see. “Nothing major, but I have to sit out of practice for at least a month, according to the doctor,” he added. “It’s a good thing the season doesn’t start until two months from now.”

Your heart sank at his admission. “I’m really sorry,” you told him. “Truly. I never meant for that to happen,” you promised. “Is there anything I can do?” you offered, wanting to help him out since you had caused enough problems for him.

“Sure,” Eric allowed. “First off, you can tell me your name.”

You smiled at this. “I’m Y/n,” you introduced yourself. “What else?”

You were surprised when the corners of Eric’s mouth lifted up into a small grin. “You could walk me to class?”

He had a stunning smile. Something about it made you want to make him smile more.

Helping Eric with his books and bag had become a regular thing. At first, you did it because you felt guilty about partially being at fault for his injury (and because you were curious about him). Soon, you found that Eric was actually quite a bright and excitable person who was a lot of fun to be around.

As Eric was always so busy juggling school and baseball, he never sat with you and your mutual friends during mealtimes. Now that he no longer had to attend baseball practise at the recommendation of his doctor, Eric was able to sit with your friends every lunch and dinner. Even your friends were surprised when Eric started openly joining discussions and laughing at Sangyeon and Juyeon’s terrible jokes. Sunwoo especially was quite startled by this change; as his roommate and best friend, it was a change that he welcomed despite the initial shock.

After a particularly tiring day of midterms, you felt compelled to do something fun instead of spending the whole night cramming for a midterm you were already confident in doing well on. At approximately 3am, you found yourself rounding up ingredients for chocolate chip cookies from your baking stash and tip-toeing your way into the communal kitchen to bake.

Your roommate had been asleep for a few hours at that point, and you knew that most of your friends would be resting after their rigorous study schedules. Thus, as you rolled up your sleeves and pre-heated the oven, you hadn’t expected anybody to be awake to join your late night – or early morning? – cookie escapades.

Which was why you nearly lost your soul when a hand tapped you on the shoulder. You had your earphones in and were humming along to your favourite playlist as you started mixing the dry ingredients for your cookies, and leapt in the air at the contact. Whirling around, you sighed in relief when you saw Eric, stood with pink pyjamas and ruffled hair, instead of your RA. “You scared me,” you told him, even though you knew he could tell from your reaction. “What are you doing awake?”

Eric shrugged. “I heard someone walking down the hall,” he explained. “I guess a small part of me was hoping it was you,” he grinned widely after his cheesy comment, urging you to roll your eyes.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up and palms started sweating at his sweet words.

“What are you making?” Eric asked, hopping up to sit on the counter and slipping his glasses on so he could see better. “Cookies?”

You hummed. “Chocolate chip,” you added with a big grin, holding up the bag of sugary delights to emphasise your point.

“My favourite,” Eric noted happily. “Can I help?”

You nodded, listing off the wet ingredients that he could prepare for you in a seperate bowl. You knew he could pour it all with one hand and you would do the mixing yourself afterwards. After handing Eric one of your earphones, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you made your cookie batter, the silence only breaking once in a while by your giggles as you bumped into one another. The first time was a mistake on your part, but after that the two of you were trying your hardest to make the other person giggle and squirm.

Once the cookies were shaped and in the oven, you and Eric sat on the floor near them to relish in the heat the oven was radiating. “What were those questions you wanted to ask me?” Eric inquired, referring to the interview questions Chanhee had prepared for you.

Your eyes widened in surprise. The two of you hadn’t discussed the interview since he was injured, and you had nearly forgotten about your assignment. “Oh. They were mostly just about your baseball life and how you keep your grades up and stuff,” you admitted. “It’s not the interview I would have wanted to give, but it’s what Chanhee wanted.”

“What would you have asked me, then?” Eric asked. “What is your ideal Eric Sohn interview,” he added in an MC voice, making you fight off a grin at how silly he was being.

“Well,” you trailed off, trying to find the right wording. “That day I was at practice it looked like you were having a pretty hard time. What was going through your mind?”

Eric went silent. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I was just thinking that it’s hard to be perfect all the time. My team relies on me a lot, and while it’s an honour to be such an important member of the team, it can be really hard when people expect you to be the ace and you don’t perform.”

There was a distant look on his face, as if his thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute. “What made you want to join the university baseball team?” you asked, moving slightly so that you were facing Eric more comfortably.

A smile reached his lips. “I just really love baseball,” he chuckled. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. Obviously I knew that university baseball was going to be on a different level, but I just knew that I wasn’t done playing yet. The challenge was exciting and it motivated me to be a better player.”

“I guess it worked,” you mused.

“I guess so,” he reluctantly agreed.

“So when did you start playing?” you asked, peering into the oven to check on your cookies. They had at least another five minutes left until they would be the golden-brown colour you wanted.

“I’ve played with my dad for fun ever since I can remember,” Eric admitted. “Of course when you grow up in LA, you watch baseball on TV with your family,” he added, reminiscing in his childhood.

“Dodgers?” you guessed his favourite team, since he said he was from LA.

“Yankees,” he corrected with a shrug. “My family used to go down to Yankee stadium to watch them play during baseball season when we visited New York. Our seats were always all the way in the back in the highest row, but I didn’t care. As long as I got to watch it all,” you laughed at his excitement. “I guess you could say my baseball career started in little league,” Eric recalled, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Sometimes I wish I could go back,” the smile slowly fell from his face. “Everything was so much easier then.”

“I get that,” you agreed with him. “I never played in little league, but I remember going to my friends’ games,” you said, almost picturing the old baseball field with all your friends running around and playing. “I didn’t even know what was going on in the game. All I knew was that I could cheer on my friends. I’d yell for them as loudly as possible and get popcorn to keep myself entertained during the parts where my friends were benched,” you smiled at the memory. “It was just... fun. I didn’t have to think about any grown-up problems.”

“That’s exactly how I felt,” Eric agreed, excitement filling his voice. “I finally got to make friends that loved baseball as much as me, and playing was fun. It was exciting and nerve-wracking, and it made me happy to practice and play another game,” he sighed. “These days, I play because the university relies on me, and because my parents want me to,” Eric confessed. “I miss loving baseball, I-“ he paused, clearing his throat. “I want to love baseball. But with all the pressure and expectations…” he trailed off, alluding to the fact that he no longer loved the sport that used to fill his childhood with happiness.

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry,” you told him, more as a form of empathy than anything else. “What made you fall in love with baseball in the first place?”

Eric pondered. “Well, at first I just enjoyed playing the sport. But the longer I played, I guess I liked being part of a team. I liked feeling supported by the other guys and feeling like I was needed and trusted by them.”

“What’s missing from your team now that makes you feel like you don’t have that?” you wondered.

“I guess my team relies on me more than I feel like I can give them,” Eric confesses, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, and you hesitantly reached your hand out for him to hold. He grasped it tightly in his, thankful for the small sign of support.

“Maybe you can find support elsewhere,” you suggested, slightly holding up your hands and smiling.

“Yeah, maybe,” Eric agreed with a smile, tears slightly welling in the corners of his eyes. You didn’t have anything else to say and were grateful for the alarm quietly going off on your phone, signalling that your cookies were ready. “Perfect timing,” he added with a laugh as the two of you stood up. You pretended not to see Eric wipe away a tear with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

They hadn’t looked like sad tears.

Chanhee flipped through the pages you had printed out for him to read. He already spent ten minutes reading and re-reading the article you had written. At this point, it was just getting ridiculous. “Chanhee,” you whined, making the pink-haired boy place the papers down.

“This is…” he paused, trying to find the words. “How did you get him to open up like that?” Chanhee wondered, unable to grasp the idea that Eric had given you so many childhood anecdotes and personal stories to fill the pages of your interview.

You smiled. “I just talked to him like a friend instead of someone to interview,” you shrugged. “He’s actually surprisingly easy to talk to. And really talkative once he gets started,” you added as an afterthought.

“I noticed that about him recently,” Sunwoo agreed. This time, instead of lying across three chairs, he was sat upside down on the only sofa in the media room, head dangling dangerously close to the ground. “These days he seems happy to tell me about his day and doesn’t leave a single detail out. It’s kind of crazy to see the change,” Sunwoo told you.

Chanhee help up the pages. “Did he really approve everything in this?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, of course. I wrote it with his permission and let him read it all before I brought it to you. He’s happy with it,” you promised your best friend. “Wouldn’t want to upset my best friend and potential editor…” you trailed off, hopeful.

“Well obviously you’re in!” Chanhee exclaimed, hugging you tightly as you laughed. “You just got me the most personal article of a university athlete I’ve ever published. You deserve it,” he assured you. “Plus, you put a permanent smile on one of my friend’s faces. I didn’t think that would be possible,” Chanhee gave you a meaningful look when you separated, causing you to smile bashfully and angle your gaze at the floor to avoid his gaze.

“He’s way more open than you guys gave him credit for,” you retorted. You truly believed it; the first time you tried to interview him, he had surprised you with how willing he was to help you out.

“And emotional,” Changmin chimed in. “He cried during The Notebook, then he cried again when we put a horror film on afterwards. You can’t win.”

His comment made you laugh, picturing Eric curled up on the couch in the communal dorm movie room while sobbing into Changmin’s shoulder was too good to pass up on. “Make sure you invite me to the next movie night,” you requested. Changmin saluted you in response, Sunwoo throwing a thumbs up in agreement to allow you to join. “Anyway, I need to get going. I’m actually heading to surprise said cry-baby at his first day back at practice,” you informed them, picking up your bag to get going.

“His hand healed so quickly?” Juyeon asked, surprised.

“Not at all,” you denied with a sad smile. “He says it’s still hurting these days. But his coach wants him to come observe practice so when his hand heals he’ll be up to date on everything... Or something,” you shrugged, unsure of how people prepared for baseball games.

As you waved your goodbyes, Chanhee called out to you: “Don’t forget we meet every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday for newspaper!” You were pleased that Chanhee had enjoyed your article and wanted you on the newspaper, especially since so many of your friends were usually occupied by this extracurricular activity anyway.

Once you arrived at the baseball stadium, you took a seat on the first bleacher to wait for Eric to arrive. The weather had warmed significantly since the first time you came a month ago. You supposed the fact that it was an afternoon practice instead of an early morning practice also added to the lack of cold you were experiencing.

“Hey,” a member of Eric’s team approached you with a smile.

Unsure, you smiled back and greeted him. “Hello,” you said.

“You look a little out of place,” he said to you, standing in front of you. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he added.

“Oh yeah, I don’t usually come here,” you confirmed for him. “I’m just waiting for a friend,” you added politely.

“You’re far too pretty to be waiting alone,” he said, which made you freeze up. You hadn’t been approached by guys like him often, but it had happened enough for you to know that they really couldn’t take a hint.

“And yet here I am,” you replied, trying to sound curt.

“I could keep you company,” the guy suggested. You opened your mouth to protest, but he had already taken a seat next to you, far too close for your personal comfort. As you subtly scooted away from him, he seemed to take this as a suggestion for him to sit even closer to you. “I like your hair,” he said, lifting his hand as if he was about to touch it.

A hand grabbed his before he could. “It doesn’t sound like you asked,” Eric told his teammate, right hand tightening on the boy’s, voice clipped and laced with anger. “So I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Eric yanked him up to his feet, and you finally felt like you could breathe again with the distance between the two of you. With a harsh shove, he stumbled back and glared at Eric, cursing under his breath and stalking off.

“Eric your hand,” you realised, standing up and trying to inspect his injured hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, searching your body for any sign that you were uncomfortable or hurt. “That creep didn’t say or do anything?”

You shook your head. “No, no, I’m fine! But your hand-“ you soon realised that Eric wasn’t even wearing the brace anymore. After the original bandage that was put on it, his doctor had given him a small wrap brace so he could do everyday activities with more ease and support. Instead, his hand was bare and looked completely fine. “Is healed?” you stammered, confused. You glanced up at Eric, who seemed to be avoiding eye contact. “Just yesterday you told me that it was hurting.”

“I lied,” Eric confessed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you forgave him easily. It wasn’t a big deal and you were just happy that he wasn’t in pain anymore, especially since you felt partially responsible for the injury in the first place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you wondered.

Eric scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “I like having you around, okay?” he admitted. “I figured that after you got whatever you needed for your interview, you would leave me alone and go back to how things were before I was injured.”

His disclosure had stunned you into silence. You opened your mouth to say something twice, but ended up closing it again for lack of knowing what to say. “You thought I was just talking to you for my interview?” you clarified. Eric nodded. “I completely forgot about it until you brought it up a few weeks ago,” you admitted to him. “I was spending time with you because I wanted to, not because I wanted to get interview answers out of you,” you promised.

“Not even because you felt guilty about being involved in my injury?” Eric inquired.

“At first I wanted to help you because I felt guilty,” you agreed. “But after the first time we hung out together I stopped caring about that.”

“Oh,” Eric said, staring at you as if he had no clue what to say. “I really thought you were going to leave…”

You were amused that Eric was so sure of himself. “Did you ever consider asking me to stay?” you pointed out, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow to tease him.

Eric paused. “Will you?” he wondered.

“Will you?” you retorted.

Eric frowned. “I’m lost,” he stated. “Will I what?”

You grinned, finding his furrowed brows and slightly cocked head quite adorable. “Kiss me,” you told him what you meant. His eye’s widened, lips parting slightly before Eric nodded. Once, twice, three times. You took this as your cue and stepped closer to him, your lips easily finding his as you closed your eyes.

“Sohn!” the sound of his coach’s voice caused you to jump apart. “This is baseball practice. You can practice that in your own time,” he said, although you could tell by his tone that he was poking fun at his ace player.

Eric blushed, clearing his throat. “Yes coach,” he called, smiling shyly at you before rushing off to put on his batting gloves.

Decked out in your university’s colours, you stood in the bleachers with your friends, anxiously biting your lip as you watched the game unfold before you. Eric and his team had made it to the championships this season, and you were more than thrilled to go and support him with the rest of your friends. Eric had been teaching you about baseball for months now, and the more you went to watch him play, the more motivated you were to remember everything he told you.

Your article had been published in the newspaper a week after you handed it in to Chanhee, and the personal interview had made it the most popular issue Chanhee had ever published as the editor of the weekly paper. Needless to say, readers wanted you to write a follow-up interview on Eric and his life on the baseball team, especially after word got out that the two of you had started dating. For a while, you were the talk of the town. You were unnerved by the sudden attention, but things mellowed down soon after people realised that you weren’t interested in satiating their endless questions.

“How much longer is this going to be?” Haknyeon whined, sighing as he leaned against Kevin for support. He had mostly been attracted by the idea of all the great snacks that being at a baseball game entailed, and hadn’t realised that a game without timing such as baseball could go on for hours.

“This is the ninth inning, so most games usually end with this round,” you spouted the information Eric had drilled into you with ease after going to his games all season long.

Next to you, Jacob giggled. “You’re turning into a natural at this,” he complimented, grinning. “Eric would be proud,” he added happily.

“Eric is their last batter,” you said in response, more focused on the game than on Jacob’s comments. “He looks nervous,” you mused, foot tapping nervously on the floor, causing your whole leg to move rapidly.

“Don’t you be nervous, he’s got this,” Kevin assured you, trying to stop Haknyeon from falling asleep on his shoulder. “Despite his injury a few months before the season started, this is the best he’s ever played.”

Hyunjae chuckled. “Yeah, I wonder why,” he teased, pointing over at you behind his hand as if you wouldn’t have known what he was doing.

You shushed your friends. “He’s up,” you said, voice shaking slightly from your nerves.

Eric stepped up to the place, looking like he was at ease and confident. This calmed you only slightly, because you knew that Eric was good at putting on a performance during his games. He knew that if he looked even slightly anxious, it would affect the other players and the audience too. Eric adjusted his grip on the bat and got in position. The pitcher threw the ball and Eric swung, missing the ball by a hair.

You groaned. “Strike one!” the umpire called, holding up a finger.

“Come on, Eric…” you mumbled, folding your hands together and squeezing tightly.

The second time the pitcher threw the ball, Eric swung the bat and hit the ball clean, sending it soaring over the outfield fence, only hitting the ground after flying between the foul poles. You gasped, jumping in the air and cheering. “What’s happening?” Chanhee asked, standing up next where you and Jacob were shouting for joy.

“Home run!” you and Jacob chorused as Eric ran his way to each base at lightning speed, reaching home base and making the winning run for your university’s team. “We won!” Jacob added and your friends all cheered with you, jumping up and down in excitement.

You could see the team celebrating together by screaming and jumping as well, and you clapped along with the rest of the audience. Eric joined their excitement after pulling off his helmet and gloves, making you smile in relief. After opening up to you and your friends, Eric had decided to speak with his team and coach about the pressure he was feeling. The team had reacted better than Eric expected, and soon Eric felt reassured and supported by his teammates.

Once Eric had given his coach a hug, he charged towards the fence separating the field from the bleachers. Instantly, your friends started cooing at you, but you only rolled your eyes. You had gotten used to the teasing after dating Eric for half a year at that point and it no longer affected you anymore. You handed Jacob your bag and raced down the bleacher steps towards your boyfriend.

“Congratulations!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him when he met you on your side of the fence. You easily fit into his arms and heard Eric’s adrenaline-filled laughter next to your ear.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he stated, pulling away just enough to kiss you. The cheers coming from your friends were almost defeating at this point but you ignored them, pulling Eric closer to you and deepening the kiss. When you pulled away, he gave you one last peck before beaming. “You helped me fall in love with baseball again, and that’s something I can never repay you for,” Eric told you, causing your heart to swell with pride.

You had noticed the changes in Eric’s attitude towards baseball before the season started. He seemed more excited about his practices and was getting closer to the people on his team. “It’s not little league, but it’s pretty good, right?” you asked rhetorically.

Eric laughed. “Really good,” he corrected. “Not only did I fall in love with baseball again, but it helped me fall in love with you for the first time,” Eric confessed. The two of you had never said that you loved each other, even though you showed it every day with your actions.

You beamed. “I love you too, Eric.”

And with that, you were pulled into another kiss. This one felt more fulfilling and warm than all the previous ones combined.

note: i’m a sucker for cheesy endings so i had to end it like this!!

#the boyz #eric #eric sohn #tbz #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshots #the boyz fic #the boyz x reader #son youngjae #eric imagines #eric imagine #the boyz imagine #tbz imagines #tbz imagine #eric x reader #deobiwritersnet #fic: batter up!

[insanelyadd]

Made a height chart of my Bastard Squad and their bros. Ink is canonically “3.8″ feet tall so I guesstimate that to be about 3′9″ and CQ once stated that Error is the shortest of her AU Sanses while Fresh is the tallest, specifically saying things like “Error is a short angry man” and about Fresh saying “he’s a tall motherfunker” and “he probably kinda towers over people”. I imagine they both lie about their heights in opposite directions and for different reasons. Error is 100% the type to be insecure about his height so he lies and says he’s a flat five feet tall, and Fresh would hate being 6′9″ just like he hates that his birthday is 4/20 so he says he’s 6′8″.

Anyways all that explanation done now I talk about my boys. Initially I had different heights planned for them when I only had a real solid idea for Ink’s height, then I tweaked them a bit when I figured out the Sanses heights. Initially Art was going to be the tallest at 8 feet, but after I made Fresh taller Fly was only 5 inches taller than him and I am contractually obligated to refuse such a small height difference between a set of skelebros. So Fly became the tallest. Twitchy is shorter than the baseline I give Papyri (7′6″) typically because CQ said Error is shorter than aftertale Sans (spoiler: even though they’re the same person technically) so that made me think becoming an Error might shrink you a little or something. You glitch so hard your kneecaps disappear.

So yeah this is my height chart which is lots of guesstimating and only three (four? considering CQ is fine with people using Error Pap for whatever) canon heights. Also do feel free to laugh hysterically at how microscopic Ink is. Puny. Miniscule. Atomic. You could kick him around like a hacky sack.

Fresh, Error, and Twitchy belong to @loverofpiggies

Ink belongs to @comyet

Fly and Art belong to me :>

#ink sans #error sans #fresh sans #ink papyrus #error papyrus #fresh papyrus #bastard squad #art #twitchy #fly #height chart #insanelyadd

[zblackiez]

Episode 3: Who Is Best Girl?

Stars, scattering across the skies blacker than ink. Their cores vibrated as they gave off their glimmering; but rather than shades of gold, they wore dresses of sapphires and violets, as if fragments of rainbow had escaped into the dusk.

And it was beneath that field of beauty that I strolled. My feet sauntered atop the sidewalk of onyx cement, my skin caressed by a loving zephyr. On either side of me, homes modest and extravagant stood tall, their styles a flawless gothic. Some even had iron-bar fences and gates whose heights rivaled minute mountains.

For the most part, the occupancy of the magenta grass lawns kept slim, with the only sign of residency being the lights that shone through the windows. Sometimes, though, the inhabitants would breathe the open air with me: a woman with spider legs, crafting an awe-inspiring artwork of silk; a colossal beast of black symbiote and sharpened teeth roaring into the great skies; a circle of Frankenstein-like children tossing something pink and squishy between them like a hacky sack. (Side note: I think I know what that is, but I'm not gonna ask.)

And the reaction was always the same at my presence: curiosity at the sole human trudging through this sinister dimension. Very seldom did genuine malice spill from their visages (except for that creepy doll idling atop a window sill; he gave me one hell of a glare).

However, I did little to repay the attention. Instead, I stuck my eyes to the tiny compass nested in the palm of my hand. Its body a crimson metal, it had an exotic skull attached to the center of the face, with an arrow extending from it, pointing South, opposite of where I walked.

Come on, I thought, hopeful that the needle would stay directly South. Please don't change on me.

I could remember when Malak had handed me the device, along with some screwy instructions.

"This will always lead you back to my home," he had said. "Just always follow the direction opposite of the arrowhead and you should always end up here."

"Opposite?" I asked. "Wouldn't I want to follow the direction of the arrow?"

"If that were a mortal compass, yes. However, this compass was forged by the Mage of Chaos, and, therefore, it holds with it a chaotic nature. Since I programmed it to track this house, it will always try to lead you away."

I remember the straightened eyes I gave him. "And you thought a compass like this was a good idea?"

"Why not? We of this universe are creatures of chaos! It is only natural that we seek all things of that same breed!" He'd then do his maniacal laugh, which had me cringing from shoulder to shoulder.

And now, I had to essentially walk backwards just to find my workplace, as if babysitting a little demon girl wasn't hard enough.

To make matters worse, as I reached the end of the street, I found myself gazing into nothingness. Not metaphorical, but literally nothing.

Allow me to explain:

Each neighborhood existed in its own space, as if each owned a chunk of reality all to itself. At each end, there would be a wide circle of swirls floating midair; gateways, as I had come to call them. Each had their own set of exotic symbols. Take one step into the gateway and boop! I had a punched ticket into a new neighborhood.

Sounds cool, right?

I would agree, if only the damn things were consistent!

No two gateways held the same path, not even the same gateway. The number of times I'd walk through the same one and end up in a different space than before surpassed the limits of mathematics!

So, in a nutshell, I had to walk backwards to my workplace while not knowing with certainty the way to get to said workplace.

Blasphemy.

Blasphemy, I say!

https://www.wattpad.com/764319418-the-mortal-babysitter-a-dark-deception-fanfiction#:~:text=%3Ciframe%20width%3D%22500%22%20height%3D%22280%22%20frameborder%3D%220%22%20allowfullscreen%3D%22%22%20src%3D%22https%3A//embed.wattpad.com/story/190404226%22%20%3E%3C/iframe%3E

#Agatha x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #dark deception #slice of life

[jjoutermaybanks]

Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 4k

warnings: reference to abuse, flirting and fluff

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART ONE

The Wreck was buzzing with activity.  Your shift was nearly over, but the number of diners had yet to start shrinking, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.  Kiara, your best friend and coworker, hurried from table to table trying to keep up with the mid-afternoon rush.  Plates of steaming food were piled high on your tray as you wove around the tables, depositing drinks and appetizers with ease.  Although you’d only been working there for the month of June, you’d slid right in and picked up all the right skills to be a prized employee.  Kiara met your encouraging gaze across the room and smiled, throwing a thumbs up.  She was probably thinking about the plans you two had with the guys after work; in a matter of minutes, John B, Pope, and JJ would burst through the doors and raise hell in the small restaurant.  You couldn’t wait.

Despite the short amount of time you’d been in the Outer Banks, you loved every second of it.  You and your mom made the move pretty suddenly, and you were worried you’d spend the summer friendless and wandering around the island alone.  But within a week, you’d noticed a certain group of misfits always parading around causing chaos.  For a few days you shadowed them, fascinated by the adventures they went on.  And then one day, the loud-mouthed blonde one spotted you sitting alone at a beachside bench and demanded you join them on their latest expedition.  Later you learned his name was JJ, and you owed him everything because he introduced you to a life of exhilaration.

Now, weeks later and after many perilous antics, you were just another Pogue.  You gossiped with Sarah, joked with John B. and Pope, ranted with Kiara, and flirted with JJ.  He was just so damn charming, and his smile made you roll your eyes as much as blush.  It was all friendly banter of course, because of the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule.  However, Sarah and John B. sort of complicated that now, and even Pope and Kiara were crossing some lines.  No one had offered to change or eliminate the rule, so everything was sort of in limbo.  You knew not to push things with JJ though, since you wanted to preserve the friendship.  The last thing you wanted was to ruin things and have to spend the summer alone again.

Time was ticking, and in a few short minutes you’d technically be free to go.  But upon seeing Kiara’s overwhelmed expression as she approached, you knew it would be more than a few minutes.

“Dad wants us to stick around till the crowd lessens,” she explained with a pout.  “The only thing is it’ll take hours for this crowd to disappear.”  She gestured to the overly full dining room, and you groaned.

“Aren’t there people coming to take over our shifts?  We have plans.”  You had been anticipating the day for a week now; after work, a quick trip of delivering groceries would help you unwind before the party the Pogues were throwing on the beach.  It would be your first real Pogue party, and you couldn’t wait to meet more kids from The Cut and even some snobs from Kookville.  Despite not living in The Cut and having a bit more money than your friends, you didn’t consider yourself anything close to a Kook.  Your mom might have been trying to get in with the rich crowd, but you were more than satisfied with your band of misfits.

“Yeah, but you know we’re the only capable waitresses who work here,” Kiara joked, and you chuckled.  She was right; you two always got the most tips and the most tables turned in the shortest time.  You were the dream team of The Wreck, so if anyone could deal with this crowd it was you two.

The next ten minutes you both hustled to get as much done as possible; you were practically running to give people their bills so they’d be out the door.  And this speedy method actually worked; enough tables cleared that you could take a breather.

All of a sudden, a familiar chorus of voices sounded behind you.  Whirling around, you grinned as you spotted your best friends marching into the dining area, already chanting and laughing and annoying the customers.  This was their best tactic since it forced Kiara’s dad to let you two leave.  Once you left, the obnoxious teenage boys would be out of his hair.  It was a win-win.

“Y/N!” JJ called, blue eyes sparking with mischief as he swung his body around the tables to stand beside you.  His beachy blonde hair was pushed off his forehead and blowing in the warm breeze, his tanned skin shining with slight sweat.  “I almost forgot how good you look in that apron,” he commented, whistling approvingly as you smacked his arm and smiled.

“No hitting on me while I’m on duty,” you scolded him, suppressing a laugh as he mocked you for saying duty.  You practically had to shove him away in order to finish your shift, but his infectious energy caused a wide grin to stretch across your lips all the same.

“Some time today, Kie,” John B. whined, drumming his hands on the tabletop for effect.  “So much to do, so little time.”

Kiara snorted, pouring fresh lemonade into a few glasses.  “The party doesn’t start till sundown, and besides Pope doesn’t have that many groceries to deliver.”

Pope shrugged, admitting she was right.  “But still, wouldn’t you rather waste the day on the water than in here?”

Kiara frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall.  “You’re right,” she grumbled.  Her brown eyes peered around the corner for her dad, spotting him and pasting on the sweetest smile she could muster.  “Alright Dad, that’s it!  Me and Y/N are outta here!”

Before he could protest, you both tore off your aprons and threw them onto the counter, sprinting out of the restaurant as fast as you could.  It was only a short run to the docks where the trusty HMS Pogue was waiting for your arrival.  As you ran, you felt Pope, Kie, and John B. hot on your heels with JJ closer to your side.  You liked to brag that you were by far the fastest Pogue, and quite a few sprints had proved that point.  JJ still liked to challenge you though, and today was no different.  As he tried to keep up with you, you laughed and tilted your face to the sun, letting your long hair out of the messy bun you kept it in for work.  As the long waves of sun-bleached hair fell on your shoulders, blown back by the wind as you ran, JJ faltered his step and began to lag behind.

“Ha!” you yelled triumphantly, fist pumping.  “Slow-pokes!”  You were the first one to reach the dock, breathing hard but satisfied with the exhilarating run.  JJ was second, and he hunched over his knees, panting.

“Damn you, Y/L/N,” he wheezed, shooting you a toothy grin.  “Caught me off guard with that sexy hair flip.”

You laughed and pushed at his shoulder.  “In your dreams, Pogue.”  You glanced over and saw Sarah jogging over to join you, stopping first to kiss John B. of course.  You wrinkled your nose at their PDA, but also felt a pang of jealousy.  They were crazy in love, it was hard not to envy them.

JJ caught you staring and elbowed you.  “Could be us, you know,” he prompted, a suggestive smirk on his lips.  “You’re missing out big time.”

You were about to sock him on the chest when Pope forced himself between you two to get on the boat.

“Alright guys, we actually have a job to do now.  My dad’s probably waiting for us.”  You gave JJ a warning expression and mouthed I’ll get you later before climbing onto the boat.  John B. took the wheel with Sarah at his side, and Pope and Kiara sat next to each other by the front.  JJ whipped his shirt off and sprawled out on the back floor, arms flexed behind his head as he soaked up the hot sun.  You sat beside him, legs swinging as you felt the spray of water when the boat took off.  The lazy sun, the warm water...you were absolutely in love with the Outer Banks.

The group chattered endlessly for the whole ride, never ceasing even when Pope went to collect the groceries for the day.  JJ attempted to show off with a hacky sack, but ended up kicking it into the water.

“No no no no!” he wailed, arms waving wildly.  “John B., you gotta stop bro!  Man overboard!”  Slowly, the boat came to a halt in the water, and everyone laughed as JJ pretended to freak out.  “I can’t see her anymore!  Oh my god, I loved that sack!”

You scoffed, standing up and discarding your shirt.  You had spotted the hacky sack floating just a few meters back  “Relax, JJ, you’ll survive.”  You then took off your shorts, left only in a bathing suit, before stepping onto the side of the boat and swiftly diving into the water.  You broke through the surface and were immersed into refreshing water.  Coming up for air, you turned back to the boat and saw JJ leaning over the side of the boat, gaping at your bold action.

“Hey!  Now we have two men overboard!” he called, and you giggled as you kicked your legs to stay afloat.  Spotting the hacky sack, you dove back under and swam over to it, snatching it up and waving it in the air.

“She’s a hero, ladies and gentlemen!” Sarah announced with a grin.  You pretended to bow and accept the congratulations before swimming back to the boat, pausing before grabbing JJ’s extended hand.  He only needed to use one arm to pull you up effortlessly, landing you sitting off the side and smiling breathlessly before tossing him his beloved hacky sack.

“You’re welcome, you big baby,” you chuckled, gasping when he suddenly gave you a big hug.  Your dripping body pressed against his bare torso, and you smiled into his shoulder as he squeezed you tight.

“How can I ever repay you?” he said dramatically, leaning back to meet your eyes.  “I might just give you a kiss I love you so much right now.”  As his face neared yours you quickly pushed it away with your hand, giggling as he let out a whooshing breath of disappointment.

“Not today, slick.”  Swinging your legs over onto the floor, you flipped your hair and ran your hands through the damp strands already drying from the sun.  The rest of the groceries were delivered without a hitch, and soon enough it was evening and the sun was beginning to set.  After docking the boat, the group gathered in a circle to discuss the plan.

“Meet back here at 8,” John B. instructed.  “We’ll bring all the coolers and cups out onto the beach.  Then it’s party time.”  

JJ let out a whoop, and everyone else broke into excited grins.  You especially were beyond excited, and couldn’t wait to get ready with Kiara and Sarah.  The three of you had of course planned outfits in advance, getting advice from each other before deciding.  Everything was ready and waiting at Sarah’s, and as the group split up you three practically ran back to her house.

With music blasting in her room and clothes strewn about the floor, you began to get ready.  Makeup was always minimal since you never knew when you’d be swimming, so just some moisturizer and an eyelash curl was all you needed.  You loved the sun-kissed, beachy vibe your tanned skin and curled hair was giving off.  You looked like a fun, adventurous girl who lived a carefree life.  It was a welcome change from your usual appearance.

“Pope was totally checking me out, right?” Kiara wondered aloud, fiddling with a hair tie as she attempted a half-up hairstyle.  “I mean, I know I looked good, but did he notice?”

“Totally,” Sarah confirmed, plucking at a few stray hairs in her eyebrows.  “He’d be an idiot not to be into you, Kie.  And JJ was definitely going crazy over your little dive, Y/N.”  Sarah’s suggestive expression made you throw a pillow in her direction, laughing.

“No way,” you refuted.  “No Pogue-on-Pogue macking, remember?”

The two girls snorted.  “Uh, hello, Y/N,” Sarah said.  “Me and John B. do a lot more than macking, you know.”

Pretending to be grossed out, you feigned a shudder.  “Ew, absolutely not.  JJ’s my friend, I’d hate to ruin things by trying to be something more.”

Kiara frowned, finished with her hair and now leaning against the wall.  “That’s how I feel about Pope.  But I don’t want to be just friends anymore.”

Sarah stood up from her desk, fully dressed and primped for the party.  “I say go for it, Kie.  You only live once.”  She checked herself out in the mirror, nodding approvingly.  “Ladies, we outdid ourselves tonight.”

The three of you looked good, you had to admit.  Even in the dark people would be watching you all, checking out the hot Pogues who totally overshadowed the stuck-up Kook princesses.  You could just see JJ’s jaw dropped when you got to the beach, and resisted rolling your eyes even now.

It was a short walk back to the beach, and by the time you got there it was pitch black.  No one had really arrived yet other than the Pogues and a few stragglers from The Cut.  The Kooks were always fashionably late, and it was only a matter of time before the walking Hollister models arrived.

Pope, John B., and JJ were pouring drinks into red cups and passing them around, and you accepted a cup with a grin.  Getting drunk was fun, and you loved the way you felt when tipsy.  Like you were lighter than air, and the world had a bubbly, gold-tinted glow.  Downing the first cup too quickly, you choked a little at the end and rubbed at your chin, flushing in slight embarrassment.  JJ raised his eyebrows and handed you another full cup, catching your eye and smiling.

Soon, the party was in full swing.  Kooks and Cut kids alike swarmed the sand, downing alcohol and dancing around half-drunk.  Sarah mingled with a few Kooks, dragging John B. with her despite his less than thrilled expression.  Pope and Kiara were of course together, debating some meaningless topic while trying to keep the stupid grins off their faces.  JJ was manning the drinks, hat twisted backwards like he always did to keep his hair off his face.  You were a few drinks in, already feeling the effects of the alcohol.  You’d always been a light-weight, and after one more drink you’d be fully drunk.

It didn’t take long to reach this point, and then you were stumbling across the sand towards JJ, calling his name in a slurred voice as you sloshed your half-filled cup.

“JJ!  JJ!  Heyyy.”  You grabbed his arm when you reached him, stumbling a little as you lost your balance.  He reached out to steady you, and you giggled ridiculously.  “Can I have more?” you slurred, still swaying on your feet.  “I wanna taste the clouds.”

JJ smiled, taking your cup from you and setting it down.  “I don’t think so, princess.  One more drink and you’d be on another planet.”

“Ooh!  Which one?  Mars?  I always liked Jupiter.”  Attempting to grab your cup off the sand, you felt yourself falling and scrambled to stay up.  Luckily JJ’s strong arms grabbed you before you face-planted, and you laughed into his chest.  “Sorry ‘bout that.  I’m an...unbalanced drunk.”

He grinned, nodding at your explanation.  “Makes sense.  How are you liking your first beach party, anyway?”

“It’s so fun!” you said too loudly.  “Everyone is so nice, even the snobs that Sarah introduced me to.  If they loosened their buttons a little I think they’d be tolerable.”  JJ laughed at your drunken retelling, taking a swig of beer.  He looked a bit drunk himself, but way less than you.  JJ knew how to handle his alcohol, whereas you were a stuttering, stumbling mess.

A thought crossed your mind, and you tapped him repeatedly on the chest.  “JJ, JJ, JJ,” you repeated, until he grabbed your hand and exclaimed, “What?!”

“You know what would make this even better?” you asked, meeting his shining blue eyes.  “A swim.”

Immediately he snorted at your proposition, crossing his arms.  “Right now?  It’s pitch-black out and the water’s probably cold.”

You shrugged your shoulders, unaffected by his protest.  “So what?  The surf looks so calm and serene, I just want to float, you know?”  Without waiting for his answer, you whipped your shirt off and unbuttoned your shirts.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” JJ said, putting his hands up.  “What is it with you and random stripping?  Not that I’m complaining, but--”

Pulling your shorts off and standing only in your bathing suit, you put your hands on your hips and pretended to pout.  The sight made JJ’s eyes flash, and he licked his lips. 

“Look, I’m swimming.  Join me if you want.”  Before the last word left your lips JJ had practically torn off his shirt and kicked off his boots.  His shorts hung low on his hips, and in the moonlight his defined abs shone like chiseled marble.  Biting your lip, you turned quickly and skipped down the shore.

Dark black waves lapped gently at the sand, and when you dipped a toe in you felt the cold temperature and flinched.  But a little cold wouldn’t stop you, and as JJ came up behind you you began wading into the water.

“Holy shit!” JJ exclaimed, the sound of splashing indicating he had jumped upon contact with the frigid water.  “You really want to cross hypothermia off your bucket list?”

“Just for a few minutes,” you swore, heading deeper and deeper until the water reached your shoulders.  It was definitely cold, and froze the blood in your veins until your heart thumped in your chest.  But it was also weirdly exhilarating, and you let out a crazed laugh before dunking your head fully under the water.

“You’re absolutely crazy!” JJ cried, shivering visibly as he tried to keep up with you.  Since he was taller less of him was submerged, so you splashed water at his exposed chest.  “Hey!” he protested, but there was a grin on his face.  You leaned back to float, spreading your arms out as you gazed at the star-filled night sky.

“Isn’t this so beautiful?” you murmured, treading water softly to stay afloat.  JJ followed your gaze to the sky, expression unconvinced before glancing back at you.

“You’re so drunk, anything would be beautiful.”  As he said this, his eyes glazed over slightly as they traced your face.  Not noticing, you sighed blissfully.

A few minutes of silence passed, before JJ spoke.  “Alright, Y/N, truth time.  I hardly know anything about you and we’re damn near best friends.”

You frowned.  “You know plenty about me, what are you talking about?”

He rolled his eyes.  “I know stupid things, like you prefer sunrises over sunsets, you hate every kind of seafood except shrimp, and your favorite color is orange.  I want to know the deep stuff.”  He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

You furrowed your brows.  “When did I tell you my favorite color?”

“You didn’t, or at least not specifically.  One morning you dragged us out to the beach at like, 5 am in the morning just so we could see the sunrise.  When the sun had just broken over the water, you pointed to the clouds and said that that was your favorite color in the whole world, that muted, pale orange.”

If you weren’t so drunk JJ’s words would’ve touched your heart.  They were so personal, and no one had ever paid attention to you like that before.  But because the alcohol made your brain fuzzy, you just laughed and nodded.  “That was a good day.”

A gentle splash hit your face, and JJ said, “Come on, this is a safe space.  Open up to your best friend JJ.”

“Fine,” you countered, wondering where to start.  You knew the only reason you were opening up was because of how drunk you were.  But you also knew it would be nice to actually tell someone about yourself, after keeping it bottled up for so long.  “Well, you know I live with my mom.  I don’t have a dad.”  You paused, but JJ was silent.  “Well, I have a dad, obviously, child-making process and all that.  But he left when I was nine.”  You said the words simply, matter-of-factly.  Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about your dad in a long time.  “Which actually kind of sucks.  That he left when I was nine, I mean.  When you’re really young and your dad leaves, it’s fine because you can’t remember him.  But I knew my dad.  He was the guy that made really good waffles on Sundays and picked me up from school sometimes.  So when he left...well, I couldn’t just act like he never existed.”

JJ’s only reaction was to blink slowly, gaze trained on your face.  His normal light-hearted smirk was softened slightly into a more serious expression.  

His comforting gaze made you feel like you could say anything right now, so you continued.  “Anyway, my mom never really got over it.  I think she wishes she could’ve gone after him, chased after the love of her life, you know?  But because she had me to deal with, she couldn’t.  I feel like she hates me a little bit.”

"No way, she can’t hate you,” JJ responded firmly.

“How do you know?”  It was more of a rhetorical question, but JJ answered anyway.

“Because it’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”  You were lightly stunned at his honest reply, and faltered a bit in the water.  But he said nothing more to ease the sudden tension, making your mouth dry up.

Uncomfortable with the silence, you joked, “So how’s that for opening up, huh best friend?”

This brought a big smile to his lips, and he looked at you closely before saying, “Wonderful job.  I feel closer to you than ever.”

Smiling, you still weren’t thinking straight you were so drunk.  Stupidly, you said, “Hey, I guess we have more in common than I thought; we both have daddy issues!”

You knew it was the wrong thing to say when his smile immediately dropped.  JJ’s dad was a sore subject that he hardly ever brought up.  You knew the basics that Kiara had filled you in on; that his dad hit him, oftentimes a lot more than just a simple punch.  You knew whenever you saw JJ with a busted lip or black eye that it was his old man’s doing.  This joke was insensitive and way too overbearing, and you regretted it as soon as you said it.

But JJ didn’t make you feel bad for it, instead plastered on a smile and nodded.  “Got that right, Y/L/N.”  You swam in the water for a few more minutes, until you announced even you were getting a little chilly, and you made your way back to shore.

Teeth chattering, you hugged yourself tightly as you rejoined the group.  Thankfully there were a few blankets that JJ and you gladly wrapped around yourselves, slowly warming up after the frigid swim.

“Having fun, Y/N?” John B. asked as he walked over to you.  You nodded, accepting the drink he offered you even though you knew you didn’t need it.  Anything to dull the awkwardness that just happened with JJ.  Taking a huge sip of the alcohol, you felt it burn down your throat.  

“This girl is crazy,” JJ announced.  “Thinks swimming at this hour is fun.”

John B. grinned, giving you a high-five.  “You make JJ seem like a stick in the mud, Y/N!  Way to go.”

You smiled, and felt JJ’s eyes on you as he scoffed in mock offense.  You met his gaze, and he was watching you with a challenging expression.  But there was also something else there, something you usually pushed him away for.  Tonight, though, with too much alcohol in your system and your guard completely down, you wouldn’t be opposed to a little Pogue-on-Pogue macking for once.

#outer banks #obx #pope outer banks #pope obx #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #kiara outer banks #kiara obx #sarah outer banks #sarah obx #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj one shot #jj mayback x reader #jj smut

[amerie-wadia]

balancing on breaking branches: part one

jj goes to the water when the world begins to spiral around him. always has. 

a/n: this will likely be a two or three part series, will be mayward too. i’m not sure when the next part of will be out, or if i’ll end up making this longer. inspired by this clip and title taken from exile by taylor swift. trigger warning for mentions of child abuse and minor references to drugs. 

JJ goes to the water when the world begins to spiral around him. Always has.

———————————————————————

The day his mom left was a completely ordinary day. JJ was ten, his hair had been long enough that it was starting to fall over his eyes and he would have to tuck it behind his ears when he watched cartoons. Big John had been home that week and had asked JJ’s mom and dad if he could take both of the boys camping that weekend. JJ had eaten leftover mac and cheese for lunch and had put on a sweatshirt when he left to go meet John B because it was November and the air pinched at his pale skin.

Usually when somebody left there was a fight. A reason. At least, that’s what JJ had always heard. But JJ’s mom had been happy when he left—maybe she hadn’t, maybe JJ had only thought she was happy. She ruffled her fingers through his hair but she didn’t hug him, didn’t kiss the top of his head.

Luke wouldn’t tell JJ where she went. Why she left.

Instead, he drove to the liquor store and when he came back home he ran right through the mailbox and he had his music really loud.

JJ hadn’t understood that night. He knew his dad was angry but he ate some pretzel sticks while he tossed his hacky sack up and down at the foot of his bed. He didn’t have any trouble falling asleep.

She was still gone when he woke up. Still gone when he got home from school. Still gone when he got back from his camping trip with John B and Big John.

JJ started to cry when his dad yelled. She’s gone, boy. She ain’t coming back. It was the first time Luke had ever hit him.

It hurt. Fucking badly.

But JJ was ten and Luke told him he could never, ever tell anybody. JJ knew his dad had been drinking, that he was sad too. JJ waited until his dad fell asleep and then he grabbed his bike from the backyard and peddled as fast as he could until his tires hit sand.

It was too dark to surf or to swim. JJ didn’t want to get in the water, not really. The salt would just hurt the cut on his arm where Luke had pushed him too hard against the door hinge.

JJ sat on the sand, crossed his legs and tucked them beneath his bum. There was nobody around to hear him cry. He wished—just a little, unassuming wish—up to the stars that his Mom would come home soon.

She doesn’t.

———————————————————————

The first time somebody calls DCS on Luke is in fifth grade.

JJ thinks it was his teacher, because he wasn’t careful and he wore a short sleeve t-shirt when he knew better. Luke sits him down at the dining room table and explains how they’re going to handle it. He helps JJ cleans up the dishes that have been piling up in the sink and he puts all the alcohol from the living room into the cabinet above the fridge. He puts JJ’s clothes in the washer so there will be something clean for him to wear when the social worker gets there.

“I love you, son,” he says, and JJ clings to the words. “I don’t want them taking you away from me. And you don’t want to be away from your daddy either, do you?”

JJ shakes his head because he really doesn’t want that. It had been two months since his dad had last hit him. Two days ago, when he did though, it hadn’t even been that bad. Luke had picked him up after it was all over and held him. He had told him everything was going to be fine.

And it would be fine, if JJ did exactly what Luke told him and they could get the social worker to leave them alone.

It’s a woman and she gets to their house at exactly five—the time they had been given. JJ had his clean clothes on and is combing his hair when the doorbell rings.

She follows Luke around the house, glancing around the rooms and biting down on her lips or nodding at stupid things like electrical outlets or the ceiling fans. She watches JJ as he trails behind them and he stays close to Luke because if not the lady might reach out and steal him away from his dad.

After the house tour, the women wants to take JJ on a walk. He freezes but Luke just gives him a light pat on the shoulder and tells him to go with her. He isn’t sure but his dad smiles and the woman smiles and he follows her out the back door.

They walk around his house and down his street until they’ve reached the main road, and then they turn around and walk back.

She asks him all sorts of questions. He tells her about school and John B and Pope and about surfing. She asks about his mom but he doesn’t want to talk about that at all. He refuses to answer so instead she asks about his dad. He knows how to answer her questions. He remembers what Luke told him to say if he wanted to stay at home.

Before they go back inside she gives him a little piece of paper with her name and her phone number and tells him that if he ever feels scared at home he should go someplace real quiet and give her a call. He puts the little paper in his pocket and tells her he will—even though he knows he will throw the paper away as soon as she leaves.

When the visit is over Luke gives JJ a bowl of ice cream and they watch a movie. Luke starts drinking about ten minutes into it but he doesn’t drink himself into a fit, just into exhaustion and he’s asleep by nine. JJ cleans up his bowl and throws the empty bottles into the recycling bin out back. He sneaks the rest of the potato chips into his room and stays up late scribbling images of surf boards and super heroes on his school books.

———————————————————————

JJ gets really good at talking to social workers and the next time he has a home visit—which is in seventh grade—his dad doesn’t even have to tell him what to say. JJ cleans the house and puts his clothes in the washer and puts all the alcohol in the cabinet above the fridge. He makes coffee and gives two large cups of it to Luke while he searches under his bed to find textbooks to put on the kitchen table and on his desk. He lets Luke borrow his deodorant.

Nobody ever takes him away. Luke stops giving him ice cream after every visit. He never, ever hits him those nights. JJ always feels relieved. Relieved his dad isn’t angry. Relieved he is still at home.

But the relief drowns out of his body within a few days typically. He’ll do something to set Luke off—wrong place, wrong time—and Luke will hit him. Usually on his chest, sometimes around his neck. But it’s always careful. For as drunk and sloppy as Luke will be, it’s always careful.

A third of the time, Luke will say he loves JJ the next day. But he never says he’s sorry.

It hurts more and more the older JJ gets and he isn’t sure why because he’s getting bigger and stronger and Luke is getting older and drunker. JJ thinks it might just be in his head.

His dad always, always hits him on the anniversary of his mother’s disappearance. It’s usually the worst of the whole year. JJ goes to the beach at night when it’s all over and he has the sand all too himself. He keeps his cuts away from the salt water, laying down on his back tentatively so the dunes don’t put too much pressure on his bruises. He still makes wishes—very quiet, very secret wishes—to the stars. He wishes for his mom to come home. It was never like this before she left.

———————————————————————

The night of the ship wreck is a whole different type of hurt. The type of hurt that Luke can’t achieve through punches alone. The kind of hurt that JJ didn’t understand when he was ten and thought his mom would be walking through the front door by the end of the week. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t hide inside of him in front of Pope and Kiara and all the people surrounding them in that stuffy white tent.

When Officer Shoupe tells them what happened all JJ can do is clench his fists and yell because he’s not sad yet. He’s only angry.

The sadness takes a few minutes—his mind can’t process it that quickly. When it hits though, it hits hard. And JJ can’t hold back his tears, especially when he sees Pope and Kiara have started to cry. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera cradled Kie in their arms and JJ’s gut hurts. Pope’s mom runs across the tent and pulls him against her chest. Heyward holds them both. Suddenly, JJ remembers how cold it is. How alone he is.

Heyward looks up, as if he knew exactly what JJ was thinking, and reaches out his arm. JJ knows Heyward thinks he’s a shitty friend for Pope, that he’s shitty. But he is so close to falling completely apart and the thought of being held is too much to turn down. Heyward pulls him into the hug but Pope anchors him in place—keeps him from crumbling into the dirt.

Pope’s tears on his shoulder are wet and it reminds JJ that John B had drowned. The water had surrounded his body and penetrated through his lungs until he had no air left to breath. JJ chokes on his breath but there’s no water in his mouth and he tells himself to breath.

Pope breaks away and JJ’s legs sway. He reaches for Kie because Pope needs her. Pope doesn’t need JJ the way JJ needs Pope.

Maybe Heyward notices, maybe he’s just being kind. He cups JJ’s chin and tells him that he’s alright. He wraps his arms around JJ and it doesn’t hurt.

JJ wonders if maybe Heyward will ask JJ if he wants to stay the night but instead he offers JJ a ride home. JJ accepts because Pope and Kiara won’t let go of each other and that hurts too. JJ isn’t sure why. Maybe he feels left out. Maybe it’s something else.

Heyward leads him to the car and helps him with his seatbelt when his fingers shake too much to do it himself.

Luke is passed out on the couch when JJ gets home, which is a good thing for some many reasons. He doesn’t know about the Phantom yet. He won’t hear JJ cry himself to sleep. JJ watches Heyward’s headlights disappear through his bedroom window and he contemplates going to the ocean. Thunder breaks out across the sky and a bolt of lightning illuminates his bedroom through his mangled blinds so he takes off his boots and sheds his clothes onto the floor. He really wishes he could go to the beach. He really wishes his mom was here.

———————————————————————

Luke finds out about the Phantom the next day.

It’s bad.

———————————————————————

Everything changes after John B dies. It goes from John B and JJ and Pope and Kie to Pope and Kie and to just JJ. They grieve and it puts a space between them. Or at least, it’s easier to blame it on the grief than it is to blame it on himself.

JJ doesn’t answer Pope’s texts. Kie doesn’t reach out but Pope tells JJ, in one of the many unanswered messages, that Kie is really struggling. He says she won’t get out of bed. It’s sad but it makes JJ angry because he can’t lay around even if he wanted to. He has to work. He has to spend as little time as possible at home because Luke hits him a lot now. He has to figure out how he’s going to pay his restitution money. His hearing is coming up soon. He doesn’t reach out either.

He smokes a lot more. At first it’s just weed, because that’s all JJ has. But he can’t afford to keep buying it and save for his restitution fund, so finds Barry and he starts selling to earn his keep. Cocaine doesn’t relax him the way weed does. He’s scared to try heroin, so he doesn’t. Not yet. But he needs something because his body aches and he misses John B and he really misses Pope and Kiara but he can’t work up the strength to text either of them back.

He doesn’t see them all summer. Pope still texts him, but it’s less and less.

———————————————————————

JJ doesn’t show up to the first day of school because there’s a big purple bruise right across his face and he doesn’t have the energy for school. His probation officer is going to be mad because part of his deal was to go to school.

He was working for the Thorntons every day after school and on Saturdays too. He lost his job at the country club after Midsummers but he doesn’t actually get paid, per se, by the Thorntons. He just has to work off his debts. He also has to do community service—an idea Mrs. Thornton had because there wasn’t really twenty-five thousand dollars worth of work for JJ to do at her office or around their house.

Without any extra time to earn his own money, he can’t afford to eat very much. Luke rarely buys groceries, usually too drunk to notice or runs out to McDonalds for dinner. He never offers to get food for JJ. He hasn’t told JJ he loves him since JJ sunk the Phantom. JJ’s stomach growls and occasional Mrs. Thornton offers him some lunch or a glass of lemonade. He misses having Kie finesse them free food. He misses his paychecks. He misses his friends.

Between working off his debts to Barry and his debts to the Thorntons, JJ barely has a moment in the day to himself. So when he does, it’s late at night and tucked away on the beach. Summer is slowing starting to turn to fall and JJ brings a hoodie to keep him warm from the ocean breeze. He doesn’t let himself make any wishes. He can’t do that to himself any more.

He twirls his zippo between his fingers. Lighting it. Clicking it off. Lighting it again. His initials are carved into the front and it reminds him of the day he and John B smoked for the first time. He pushes the memory aside before it lingers long enough to hurt. JJ has a little bit of weed left but he’s not going to see Barry again for three days and doesn’t want to smoke it all right now.

JJ shoves the zippo in his pocket right as his phone vibrates. It’s Pope.

JJ has stopped even looking at the messages. He turned the preview off on his lock screen so he wouldn’t be tempted to open them anymore. But this isn’t a text, this is a call. JJ really doesn’t want to answer but his finger slides across the green bubble and suddenly Pope’s voice fills his ear.

“JJ?”

He’s not sure why Pope asks. Who did he expect to answer?

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t at school.”

“I wasn’t.”

Talking to Pope used to be easy. It doesn’t feel easy any more. JJ doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t had a real conversation in a very long time.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

And it doesn’t. School is absolutely irrelevant right now. If JJ were in school, he wouldn’t have time to sell for Barry and work for the Thorntons.

“It matters to me.”

Pope does that sometimes. Says something too thoughtful to JJ. Casually, as if he doesn’t realize the impact it has on JJ. Pope’s voice never wavers when he says stuff like that, when he cares too much. JJ isn’t sure why the words make him feel defense—Pope’s his best friend, it shouldn’t be as weird as it is. JJ grabs a handful of sand and watches the shadows fall between his fingers.

“I was sick. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sick? JJ, I know you’re not sick.”

“I could be sick.”

“You’re not.”

JJ doesn’t know how Pope knows he’s not really sick.

“Where are you?” he asks suddenly.

“In bed,” JJ lies.

“No, you’re not.”

How does Pope always know anyway?

“I’m falling asleep.”

“Dude, I can hear the wind. Are you at the beach or something?”

In the time JJ tries to think up a good lie, Pope seems to connect the dots.

“I’m coming. Which beach are you at?”

“I’m not—”

“JJ,” Pope says, and something about the tone of his voice makes JJ’s shoulders fall.

“Rixton’s Cove.”

“Stay. I’ll be there in five.”

Pope hangs up before JJ can respond. But he stays. Partly because he’s too tired to stand up. And, because he really can’t face Pope sober, he rolls the rest of his weed into a joint and lights up. He’s only had a few hits when he hears footsteps.

“It’s so cold,” Pope whines as he takes a seat next to JJ, “Why the fuck are you here?”

JJ shrugs—he knows that Pope can connect the dots for himself.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I know,” JJ says, because he’s not brave enough to say I’ve missed you too.

“It’s been two months,” Pope adds, as if JJ doesn’t know. Maybe he didn’t realize how quickly the days went by sometimes. “I’ve been so worried.”

Pope worries too much. Especially about JJ. He shifts and takes another hit.

“Dude,” Pope says softly, too softly for JJ. “Are you okay?” Based on the wavering of Pope’s voice, JJ can tell that Pope knows that he’s far from okay.

“Never better.”

It so much easier to lie.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“Do what?”

“Push me away. I’m sick of it.”

There’s no bite to Pope’s voice, only gentleness, and that’s what sets JJ off.

“Shut up, Pope. Just shup up!”

“What?”

“If I wanted to talk to you, I would’ve fucking texted you back.”

It’s dark, but JJ can see the way Pope tenses at that. It feels really good though, to release, so he keeps going.

“This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What’s my fault?”

“I said shut up!” It’s harsh. JJ knows how harsh it is. “Fifty thousand dollars, man. That’s what I owe because of you!”

Pope doesn’t seem to care that much that JJ wants him to shut up, because he asks, “How is it fifty?”

“Restitutions and reparations, man. All because of you. How do you think I’m gonna pay them back? How do you think I’m paying Barry back without any fucking money? How do you think I could possibly go to school when I’m working from sunrise until sunset just so I don’t go to fucking juvie, Pope? Huh?”

Pope is silent. It’s the first time JJ wants a response and he doesn’t say a word.

“I’m gonna be doing this for years because of you! John B’s fucking dead in the ocean somewhere and you and Kie are off macking on each other while I can’t even afford to fucking eat anymore and by the time I’ve paid off my debts you’re going to be off at some fancy school and Kie’s gonna be doing whatever the fuck she’s gonna do and where do you think I’ll be, huh?”

“What do you mean you can’t afford to eat?”

JJ rolls his eyes because that’s not what he wanted Pope to focus on.

“Bro, talk to me.”

Bro.

JJ kicks at the sand and tries to take a breath so his lungs don’t fill with water. Pope reaches out but JJ pulls away because it’s dark and JJ forget that it was Pope sitting next to him.

“JJ?”

It’s too soft. Pope is always too gentle.

JJ starts to cry and he wishes he was still angry. Anger is so much easier than this.

“I’m so sorry,” Pope says, reaching out for JJ again. This time JJ doesn’t pull away. He’s too tired. Pope’s hand rests on his shoulder. It’s firm but not so tight that it will bruise.

———————————————————————

Pope drove JJ to McDonald’s because it was open and JJ got lightheaded when they stood up. JJ wants to argue because the offer makes him feel pathetic but he feels dizzy and his stomach growls so he gets into Pope’s car and watches as raindrops begin to shower across the windows. The motion of the windshield wipers calms him a bit. Pope doesn’t say much on the way there.

He gets a milkshake after he forces JJ to order more than just a burger and fries. JJ really wanted more than that but he didn’t want to push. All the tables are open since nobody else is awake but they sit in the corner where it’s far enough from the counter that the employees won’t hear them.

Which is funny because they don’t really talk. At least, not for a while.

“Kie and I aren’t together,” Pope says once JJ is done with the two hamburgers and is starting on his fries. Pope’s only had a few sips of his milkshake.

“Really?” JJ asks, his voice raspy from the crying and filled with half-chewed fries. Pope nods.

“After everything that happened, neither of us really wanted to dive into a relationship.”

JJ doesn’t know what to say. For some reason he feels a bit relieved. He doesn’t know why—even though he does, in fact, know exactly why.

He’s always known. He’s always tried to convince himself he was confused. But he’s always known.

“She asks about you.”

“Oh.”

“I know you two don’t talk anymore, I know we don’t talk anymore. But we still care about you.”

Pope is too forward most of the time. He cares so openly that JJ can’t always believe Pope is real.

“Is there anything you want me to tell her?” Pope asks when JJ doesn’t say anything. It’s weird, to not be the talkative one. Pope is good at it though.

“Don’t tell her about this,” he asks, motioning down to the food. He hopes that Pope knows he’s talking about JJ not being able to eat.

“Nothing else? Not even a hello?”

“Hello is fine.”

“Okay, JJ,” Pope sighs and takes a sip of his milkshake. JJ knows he’s being difficult, he knows Pope is more patient than anybody he’s ever met, but it still makes his chest tighten. “Whatever.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Tell Kie I said hi.”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Why don’t you ever talk to us anymore?”

JJ isn’t ready for this conversation but he’s all out of fries and Pope’s eyes are stuck on him and there’s no way he can just bolt. Well, maybe he can. Not if he lets his own eyes meet Pope’s though.

“Is it your dad?”

“Don’t ask me that.”

“JJ, come on. You’re my best friend, you don’t have to hide this shit from me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” And he didn’t. There was no way Pope knew what he was asking of JJ.

“Then tell me, JJ.”

And for a moment, JJ considers telling him. He really didn’t have much to lose.

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Pope asks, his voice softer again. JJ’s eyes fall to his hands because looking at Pope makes him want to cry and he’s not doing that again tonight.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

JJ made the mistake of meeting Pope’s eyes. Warm and open and fucking up the way JJ felt. His breath hitched and he knew why.

“I want to know why we don’t talk anymore.”

Straight forward. Maybe for once in his life JJ can be straight forward.

“Because,” he took a deep breath, trying to remember all the reasons why he shouldn’t say anything, “it’s hard to talk to you sometimes.”

“Why?”

JJ wished they were still on the beach in the dark. Wished for a lot of things.

“Because I like you.”

He couldn’t take it back. Not now. Couldn’t spin it if he wanted to.

Pope’s eyes widened and then his brows scrunched as if he didn’t quite understand. JJ didn’t want to elaborate.

“You like me?”

JJ shrugged and bit down on his lip because everything felt like too much.

“You mean—?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Oh,” Pope expressed quietly, shocked. He didn’t sound mad but he didn’t sound particularly excited either. JJ wanted to bury himself in the sand.

“Look, thanks for the food, but I have to get home,” JJ started, sliding out of the booth to stand up.

“Wait. Don’t,” Pope protested, standing up himself but JJ was always taking steps away.

“I have to go.”

And he ran all the way to the beach.

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tagging some lovelies who seemed excited about this idea: @kikifromtheblock @ifyourelostyoucanlook @hmspogues  @maybanktho @kiesargent

if you would like to be added to a mayward and/or kiarah taglist, feel free to let me know!

#obx #outer banks #mayward #jjpope #jj x pope #pope heyward #jj maybank #tw: child abuse #tw: drugs #my writing #so many typos because i write on my phone and never edit my own work #if it's rly bad I'll fix it but probably not

[ironxkid]

@fullofmemories asked: “I heard you couldn’t sleep, so I made you some tea.”

Carter stared up at the ceiling, tossing a hacky sack from hand to hand as her mind spun. She hadn’t been able to sleep well, if at all, the past few nights, and she felt exhausted. Thankfully, she had time off, but... it was hard to enjoy it when she couldn’t sleep. But she was careful to try and hide it - to keep her exhaustion to herself. There was no point in worrying any of the others, not when she knew it would eventually pass.

She hadn’t expected the knock at her door, or expected Katrina to come in with a mug of tea, and her surprised gaze quickly softened. “Thanks,” she said quietly, pulling her legs beneath her as she patted the space in front of her - inviting her friend to sit. “You didn’t have to- to do that, y’know, but I- I appreciate it.” She offered a tired smile, her head tilting slightly to the side. “Though... where’d you- you hear that from?”

#fullofmemories #v; starry eyed dreamer #asks

[saharamae21]

Vapor (Part 6)

Hey guys! Part Six and I’ve only gotten to episode 2 of the show. This one book might be a long one! Loving the feedback, would love even more! Thanks for being so supportive everyone!

WARNING: THIS FANFIC MIGHT CONTAIN CONTENT THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME Mentions of child abductions and murder

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I sat in the back of the van, taking huge hits of JJ’s joint. It hit so much harder than the weed I had. I leaned my head back and felt my high consume me. This was exactly what I needed after the fiasco I had just witnessed. I laid my head down on JJ’s shoulder and handed him back the joint. He finished it off and threw the remains out the window. I could feel his hot breath on my hair as he whispered to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I could feel him playing with my hair. I glanced up to see his beautiful face. His ocean blue eyes were dilated and stared down at me. I was so high, I couldn’t control where my thoughts went.

“Mhm,” I said. I answered his question, but my mind was already drifting elsewhere. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take over. I thought about JJ. I thought about his lips on mine. I couldn’t control them. My eyes shot open at the realization that I was crushing on JJ once again.

“Adelaide,” he said, worried. I turned to look at him and my eyes met his. He was so close to my face that my heart began beating out of my chest. I sat up and caught my breath. He reached out for me, but I stopped him.

“I’m fine,” I said. I felt the van stop moving and forced myself out. JJ never left my side which made it really hard to ignore my feelings right now. I watched as John B pointed at JJ and told him that he was going to post up and look for bogeys. JJ instantly protested asking why he had to do it. I smiled as Pope stepped in.

“Look JJ,” Pope started. “There are independent and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable.” I chuckled as JJ genuinely got upset. He looked at the boy and told him to shut up. He argued back and forth for a second.

“We don’t know what you’ll do,” Pope finished. JJ was telling the boy to shut up and pointing at him. I placed my hand on his chest and he calmed down. I heard JB speak up.

“Listen to me for a second,” he said. “Addie, stay with him. Pope, you stand look out with JJ, okay? If we split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.”

And with that Kie and JB were gone. It was just JJ, Pope, and I. I sat down in the van and pulled out my vape. I hit it hard, exhaling as my eyes closed. Then I decided to address the elephant in the room. I asked them what we were doing here and what was so important. Pope looked at JJ as if he was ready to lie, but JJ sat down next to me and explained everything, beginning to end. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I laid back and took another hit, trying to process everything that was going on. I felt JJ leave my side and go out to play hacky sack with Pope for a little bit. It was a very short game though. Within minutes, we could hear police sirens echoing through the trees. I looked out the window to see a blue and white police SUV speeding down towards us. The two boys ran towards the van and hopped in, JJ taking the driver seat. We sped away quickly, remembering to meet them back at JJ’s house.

We dropped the van off at chateau and I drove the guys back over to JJ’s. I contemplated heading out, but I honestly was curious to where this would go. I wanted to continue this journey with them. I got out at the house and looked around. There was no sign of Luke anywhere. Still, JJ would not enter the house. I let out a sigh and watched as he lit up a joint. As much as I had a problem with guns, he had a problem with being home.

We just chilled in the backyard until John B drove up. He looked like he had been through hell, but didn’t seem to want to talk about it. JJ sat in the passenger seat, leaving Pope and I in the back. I was a little disappointed in all honesty, but maybe some space between JJ and I was for the better. When we got to The Wreck, Pope hopped out and went in to get Kie, who informed him she wasn’t coming. We all looked at JB and waited for him to tell us why, but instead he just got out and said he'd handle it. He wasn’t in there super long. Then we walked Kie with John shortly behind her. I was hoping she would climb in the back with me. I was hoping we could have a quiet girl talk. However, she kicked JJ into the back and took the passenger seat.

The sun had set and we still weren’t at our destination. JJ was already asking to lay low for this one and I truly wanted the same thing. I felt myself yawn as the drive began to put me to sleep. I felt JJ shift to give me some more room and pulled me into his chest. I felt both his arms tighten around me as I cuddled into his chest. I was too tired to fight him. I drifted off a bit, staying the slightest bit awake.

When the car stopped, I could faintly hear voices whispering around me. I tried to focus on them, but my overwhelming drowsiness made it hard.

“When have you ever seen JJ so whipped by a girl?”

“That’s not just any girl, that's Addie.”

“She’s right, it’s always been A.”

I felt a hand shake me and my head shot up. My eye twitched as I realized that we had stopped. My movement woke JJ as well who sat up quickly. He mumbled a curse word and we got out. My blood ran cold as I realized we were at a cemetery. John looked at me and told me I could wait in the van if I wanted too. I shook my head. I was going to be more afraid if I waited here alone. I hugged myself and walked with them to this huge mausoleum. I watched as the boys tried to move the stone that blocked the entrance. I screamed as a huge snake slithered out. JJ started to bark at it causing me to jump into the nearest set of arms. I felt John B awkward pat my back as Kie yelled at JJ to stop. I moved away from him and JJ grabbed me and pulled me towards him almost in a jealous manner. It made my flutter as he looked at me and apologized for scaring me. I bit my lip and nodded. JJ went to go help Kie get into the tomb and I let myself relax for a little bit. Nothing they were doing could shift my attention away from my budding feelings for JJ.

Just when I was deep into the contemplation of acting on my feelings or not, lights shined our way. Then there was shouting. Kie was out of the mausoleum and we all took off running towards the van. We got to the gate and I began to climb. I jumped down on the other side and got into the van, panting hard. Why were we always getting chased? I moved to the back of the van and sat next to the window. JJ sat by me and stared. I didn’t look though. I was overwhelmed by everything.

I didn’t speak the whole way back. I just sat and stared out the window. I realized my car was still at JJ’s so I asked JB if I could crash at the Chateau. JJ told me to take the spare bedroom and I nodded. I laid down and the sheets smelled like him. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.I couldn’t though. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man. Finally, I slipped long enough for a dream to come through.

I was walking around the park. He was so nice, almost like my dad. He told me about his cute beagle. His name was Lucky and with my help he knew we could find him. I told him that JJ was really good at finding things. I told him a dog would really make JJ happy. I told him how JJ was lonely. Then he knelt down in front of me. He caressed my face like my daddy always did. He told how insightful I was and how beautiful I was. I smiled proudly as he praised me. He held my hand as we walked to the parking lot. He told me to hold out my hands and he would give me the toy. I held them out and he tied the leash around me. I screamed for JJ. I couldn’t see the playground, but maybe he could hear me.

I remember when he took me out of the trunk. I remember his house being across from a cemetery. I remember him telling me that there were a bunch of kids across the street and maybe I could play with them really soon. Julie. Scott. Lauren. 

I woke up screaming. JJ was by my side as I panicked. I had never remembered that line. I had never remembered him saying those words to me. There were more victims than the ones in the trunk. I felt JJ’s hands cupping my cheeks as I muttered out gibberish. He was patient with me.

When I finally calmed down, JJ laid with me. He pulled me into his chest, just like when we were kids. The smell of weed and mint filled my lungs with every inhale. I knew falling for him was inevitable at this point, I was in too deep. I was so infatuated by him that I didn’t even remember Topper existed. He held me tightly and played with my hair, trying to do anything to get me to relax. I buried my face into his neck and just cuddled into him. As I was feeling myself become tired, I asked the question I’ve been dying to hear the answer to.

“Why did you not want to be my friend anymore?” I asked. He placed his lips against my forehead and gave me the easy answer.

“I don’t know, A.” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s more, JJ,” I mumbled. My voice was strained as I forced the words out. Their names haunted me now. “There’s more dead kids.”

A/N: Do you guys like this? Is the plot boring or is there something that doesn’t sit right? I’m trying to incorporate my own story into the one that already exists and don’t know if it’s working or now.... Let me know please!

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Tag List : @jjmaybangme @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @obxmxybxnk @waywardbarbie @talksoprettyjjx @obbx-tings @agirlwholovescoffee @thoughtsofthestars @outerbankslut @potterheadhollander @baby-pogue @lindzaylove @obxlife @queenofthebees003 @rockyyc77 @beth-winchester21 @outerbongs @sunwardsss @ilovejjmaybank @thesurfingsnail @animetiddi3s

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