#i would rather die than step foot into a victoria’s secret. i do not know OR care what my actual bra size is beyond a target small/medium

[tauruswiftie]

gonna be fr i don’t think “traditionally/stereotypically feminine” interests should be dunked on at all but also this is exactly the kind of thing that makes me feel insecure about ever having daughters (as someone who wants kids in the next ~6 years). idk why there is this expectation that if you don’t wear makeup/heels/nail polish/do skincare/etc you’re misogynistic and can’t bond with your daughters lol

[babyboyblasty]

CHAPTER 12:

All the girls had at least one bag in their hand. Momo had eight (some big but most of them medium sized that only contained one or two things each), Mina four, Hagakure two, Jirou one, Uraraka one, Tsuyu two, and Aoyama five. The only one without any bags was Bakugou since he hasn’t bought anything. So far— and he will rather die than admit it out loud— hanging out with his classmates wasn’t the most terrible thing that has happened to him these past three days. He was actually kinda having a good time.

"You should have come with us to get your nails painted too, Bakugou-kun" Hagakure placed an invisible hand on his shoulder where he saw some glittery blue polish.

"Yeah! I think a nice /green/ would look great on you" Uraraka smiled, giving a wink to Tsuyu who shook her head.

“Actually, I think Bakubabe would prefer a firetruck /red/ ” Mina nudged Jirou who gave her friend a knowing look.

"On the contrary, I believe a nice dark color like black or purple would suit Bakugou-san best" Momo suggested, oblivious to what her other friends were hinting at. "Perhaps Bakugou would like to join us on our next trip?" she turned to look at him and he looked back at her then the rest who were waiting for his answer like they were insane.

"But I won't be a girl then" he replied like they'd forgotten. 

"We know that, kero, but Bakugou-chan is fun when he is not yelling," Tsuyu responded, a finger to her cheek.

"You joining us again would be très bien, monsieur" Aoyama smiled over at him, wiggling his fingers in front of his face to show off simplistic french tipped fingernails. 

Bakugou didn't really respond but he did smile a little on the inside. Not that they needed to know that though.

The conversation was dropped to start another one about what they've bought so far, cuticle care (via Aoyama), and what they wanted to do tomorrow in their free day. That somehow turned into Momo recalling a restaurant she visited with her parents where the food was magnificent and that led to Bakugou claiming he can make the best damn breakfast they've ever had and Jirou challenging him to cook breakfast for them tomorrow to prove it. He agreed of course and the girls couldn't wait. They already knew Bakugou was a great cook but challenging him was always fun for both them and for Bakugou since he liked to prove he was the best.

After walking around for a bit, the girls decided that they wanted to go into a store that just recently opened. It was one similar to Victoria Secret that sold lingerie and other intimate clothing that Bakugou didn’t feel comfortable in so the blonde stayed outside on his phone. 

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki I'm seeing? Or do my eyes deceive me" Bakugou could practically hear the smirk and sarcasm dripping from the words. Looking up, he saw Emo Deku 2.0 walking over to where he was standing, the smug bastard. 

"Is that the human vibrator I'm seeing? Or is it just a big pile of dog shit" he countered back, baring his teeth up at the guy. Shindou Yo always rubbed him the wrong way and just the sound of his voice and that dumb way he patronized and looked down at him like he was better was enough to make his blood boil. He thought he’d seen the end of him after their provisional hero license exam when he was a first year and Shindou was a third year, but fate has a funny way of working and Bakugou seems to run into the guy more often than he'd like when he's out doing public service hero work or at internships. 

"No need for insults, Bakugou. I was just surprised to see you, that's all. I heard about what happened over at the agency but I didn't believe it. I mean, you /are/ supposed to be the best, right? So how on earth was I to believe that a small time thug got the upper hand on the Great Explosion Murder God DynaMight?" Shindou tilted his head, looking down at Bakugou with fake curiosity and concern. "I could see I was mistaken though. Maybe you're just not as amazing as they say you are /just/ yet. That's okay though. It took me all three years at Ketsubutsu Academy to fully learn how to be a great hero but I guess some people need more time. It's okay being a late bloomer. Isn't that right, Katsuki?"

Bakugou was positively fuming and it took everything in him not to launch at him right then and there. He wasn't the same explosive boy from his first year that couldn't control his impulses. Besides, making him lose his composure is what that asshole wanted and he won't give him the satisfaction. He won't compromise his perfect record and possibly endanger someone by using his quirk in a public setting. Clenching his fist as hard as he could, he let the sparks threatening to ignite die in his palms.

"What? You've got nothing to say, Katsuki? How very unlike you" the black haired boy teased. It's been two years since Shindou Yo graduated from Ketsubutsu Academy High School and half a year since he's been working as a rookie pro hero. He was assigned to this mall by the agency he works at and imagine his surprise when he saw Bakugou just standing there in the open like that. Really, he just couldn't resist coming over and saying hi. The blonde was always so entertaining. 

"Pro-hero Grand! May we have your autograph?" a small girl and boy ran over to them, each holding a pen and notebook in their hands up to Shindou's face. The man's condescending smile changed into a friendly one at the flip of a switch. "Of course! It'd be an honor" he laughed and gave them both his signature. Bakugou let out a 'tch' sound, crossing his arms over his chest. "Thank you for your support!" he waved them goodbye and the children waved back with a 'thank you', running off back to a woman who they guessed was their mother.

"Does it ever get tiring being a two-faced bitch?" Bakugou growled and Shindou turned back to him, letting out an amused laugh.

"See? There he is. Or should I say she now?" he made a thinking face and laughed when Bakugou audibly growled like a dog. "That's what I like about you, Bakugou. Always so feisty" he cooed before stepping a bit closer. Bakugou kept his ground so they were almost chest to chest, Bakugou glaring up at the guy because of his new height. If he was smaller by one or two inches before, he is now nearly half a foot shorter than the bastard. "You know, this look actually kinda suits you. It makes you look cute when you're angry so really I can't even take you seriously. Not that I did before, but now I get the sudden urge to hug you. Isn't that funny?" he smirked.

"Well take a good long look, perv, because I'll be turning back to normal tomorrow morning," Bakugou spat. Shindou looked genuinely confused for a split second and it made Bakugou get a sinking feeling in his chest.

"Tomorrow morning? Are you sure? Did Eraser tell you that?" the pro hero raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. 

"What the hell are you getting at?" Bakugou frowned. 

"Oh nothing, don't mind me. If that's what your teacher said then it must be true" he shrugged.

"Is there something you're not telling me? If there is, spit it out already."

"Like I said, it's nothing. Anyway, I must be getting back to work. The streets don't keep themselves safe, you know?" Shindou smiled and turned to leave but Bakugou immediately grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face him and gripping onto the black and gold top piece of his hero costume to pull him down to his eye level.

"Woah there Bakugou. Aren't we moving just a bit too fast?" the older of the two chuckled.

"Listen up, dumbass. I swear if there's something you're not telling me I'll—" he growled out before getting interrupted by a stern voice.

"Bakugou! What is going on here? Let go of him immediately" Iida stepped up to both of them. Midoriya, Todoroki, and the other three standing behind the tall, navy haired male were all ready to intervene if need be, Midoriya and Todoroki more so than the rest.

Bakugou unclenched his hands from Shindou's hero costume with a huff and Shindou smoothed it out with a throaty laugh.

"Thanks for that. Iida Tenya, right? Ingenium's younger brother?" Shindou smiled. 

The class rep nodded and answered 'yes, I am' before putting his hands together. "Pro-hero Grand," Iida gave a deep bow, "I apologize in advance for my classmate's despicable behavior. As class rep it is my responsibility to ensure everyone acts their best in order to better represent the name of U.A. My apologies again, sir!" Iida was practically yelling and it caused a few heads to turn their way in curiosity to what was happening, but they all looked away with a sharp glare from a certain ash blonde that basically told them to mind their own fucking business. "Is everything okay? Was Bakugou bothering you?"

Bakugou could have laughed. Of course they'd think that so he wasn’t even surprised.

"What?" Shindou laughed before the black haired hero began maneuvering the younger so that he had an arm around Bakugou's shoulders and his other hand was holding one of Bakugou's wrists like they were the best of pals. "Oh no, not at all. Bakugou-kun and I were just talking about old times. I was giving him a few words of my experience so far and some advice as a pro hero" the male gave a bright smile. "What you saw just now was a new move Bakugou was demonstrating to me. There is no problem here, right Katsuki?"

"Whatever."

Midoriya's eyes flickered over to Kacchan. Honestly, he doesn't think that that was what happened at all. He thinks Shindou said or did something that made Bakugou react that way. He's known the blonde for a long time now and while his childhood friend might be a hot head, he wasn't the type to start fights without reason. Todoroki, Shoji, and Koda thought the same but didn't say anything. They didn’t get good vibes from Shindou either.

Todoroki didn't like the interaction between those two one bit and Izuku felt the need to go up and pull his Kacchan away from him.

"Well, that's a relief" Iida answered with a bit of hesitance. He was still a bit suspicious but let the matter slide.

"I hope to see you all out in the field in a few years. Work hard" Shindou said his goodbyes to all of them individually before turning to Bakugou. "It was nice bumping into you, Katsuki-chan. And I meant what I said earlier too. You look good" he winked and Bakugou growled. "Take care, guys" he smiled, waving goodbye. 

They all watched the hero go before Iida was turning to Bakugou. "What happened between you two, Bakugou?" he frowned and Bakugou grumbled.

"Nothin' that concerns any of you. Now quit buggin me."

Iida tried not to take offense. After a few years of being classmates, he should be used to the blonde's somewhat hostile way of speaking. “As you wish. Why were you alone? Where are the girls and Aoyama?” he asked.

“In the store” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Almost as if by magic, Bakugou’s group started walking out of the store, some carrying new small bags. 

“Deku-kun! Iida-kun!” Uraraka grinned, going up to them excitedly.

“Uraraka-san. It’s good to see you” Izuku smiled. The rest of them caught up before Iida started lecturing the girls about leaving Bakugou alone.

“I can take care of myself, four eyes!” he yelled but Iida paid no attention to him as he continued talking to the rest about what he saw happening with Bakugou and Shindou earlier to make a point about why we should all be in groups or in pairs at all times. Mina gasped loudly and Momo turned around to look at Bakugou with sympathy.

“Did he do something to you, Bakugou?" the pink girl was stomping over to him, a furious look on her face. "Where is he? I’ll beat him up I swear” Mina frowned, looking around to see if she can spot the black haired hero around. For his sake, he better pray she doesn't. Apparently she thought the same thing Midoriya did.

"Bakugou-kun! I am terribly sorry we left you alone. I should have known better and stayed behind with you. I am so sorry for your troubles" she apologized.

"Hah? Do you think I'm some type of damsel in distress now or something? It's fine, ponytail. Quit apologizing" he grumbled, looking away. “You too, Pinky.”

Momo gave him a soft smile and went in for a hug. She was sure he'd most likely push her off so when he didn't, she was very surprised. He didn't hug back but Momo didn't expect him to and she hugged him a bit tighter, the rest of the girls going in for a group hug as well. The boys were unsure what to do (even though some of them really wanted to join) so they stood to the side and watched how Bakugou started telling them to quit being "sentimental fucks" and let go already. They could tell he didn’t really mind it when he didn't immediately threaten to blow them up though.

Bakugou couldn’t wait until he went back to normal tomorrow.

[ word count: 2318 ]

(the shindou and bakugou inspiration for this chapter was these two pieces of fanart!)

[regicidal-defenestration]

Victoria Died (and then some other things happened and we all got a bit distracted sorry about that Victoria)

.

A Death by Dying / Lost Cat Podcast crossover fic, because I think the Lost Cat narrator and Obituary Writer deserve to meet each other

.

[Lost Cat Narrator]

They say you have to go far away to realise what you had close by all along. They never did say exactly how far though…

[LCN]

“You need a holiday,” said Bojana.

  “What.” I said, because it’s quite an odd topic to spring on a person like that.

  “You need a holiday,” she said again. “I’ve booked us the plane tickets already.”

  I didn’t say “what” again, because you can overdo these things. “I have work.”

  “Your podcast?” Bojana asked, and she sounded unfairly incredulous.

  “And make music,” I added. “And-”

  Bojana stopped me. “You can do all that in America.”

  America? I thought to myself. “America?” I asked out loud, with more emphasis. “I’m not going to America.”

  “Yes you are,” Bojana said, and like that, it was sorted. We were off to America.

    *

  [LCN]

    The sign cheerfully welcomed us to the small town of Crestfall, Idaho, and informed us that it had been 5 days since the last unexplained death.

“That isn’t very reassuring,” I said.

“It’ll be a local joke,” said Bojana, but she didn’t sound very sure. Unexplained deaths, it seems, are an international uniting factor. Fun!

We stayed staring at the sign for a few more moments, in case any more unexplained deaths happened whilst we were watching. And one did, technically, although we didn’t actually get to see anyone die, which was disappointing. A man pushed past us, felt tip in hand, and carefully crossed out the number 5 and replaced it with a 0.

      He turned to us and frowned. “You’re new.”

This felt accusatory.

      Bojana said: “Did you kill them?”, because Bojana is good at cutting to the point, whereas I am more used to using enough words to make a story seem long enough to be worth it.

The man didn’t answer, which was definitely worrying, because you would think it is easy to say whether or not you’re a murderer. He had a firm, steady gaze, the kind that seems to have an internal monologue behind it, just on the edge of hearing. An internal monologue that might have sounded something like:

*

[Obituary Writer]

Victoria was dead, to begin with.

She was dead afterwards too, but I think misquoting famous literature always helps set the mood.

Victoria was dead, to begin with, and when I went to update Crestfall’s Unexplained Deaths Board, there were two strangers there, staring at it. You can always tell who’s new here, because for some reason they all react to the Unexplained Deaths Board with the same concern.

        I turned to them after changing the number, and introduced myself.

“I am the modest and handsomely dressed Obituary Writer of this little town called Crestfall. You must be new here, I can show you around if you want?”

      I also took a moment to adjust my stance so that they could both hopefully see the enamel pin on my lapel, which is in the shape of a typewriter and coloured with the bisexual flag colours, because they both seemed friendly, and you never know.

      The woman looked at me suspiciously. “Did you kill them?” she asked. Her eyes bore into me like she was trying to read the truth of my very soul, like if she just looked hard enough all the secrets of Victoria’s death would be laid out before her. It was the kind of stare that you can hear the internal monologue behind. An internal monologue, that might sound something like…

(the sound of howling wind. In the distance, a crow caws)

    Only joking. It’s impossible to hear other people’s internal monologues, no matter what Dan the Fake Tarot Man who lives on the edge of town claims.

A crying shame.

      “You’re taking a long time to answer that,” the man pointed out.

      “I am merely investigating Victoria’s death,” I replied, sounding suitably serious about the whole matter. “If you would like, I can show you my current notes?”

    The man frowned. “Why is an obituary writer investigating a death?” he muttered, more like he was speaking to himself than to me. However-

    “Obituary Writer,” I corrected him.

  A slight pause.  “Yes? That’s what I said.”

  “You called me an obituary writer, but I am the Obituary Writer."  Ugh. Tourists.

        The man and I held each other’s gazes. He seemed to be having an internal discussion with himself, perhaps even an argument.

Again - it really is a shame we cannot hear the thoughts and motives of others, don’t you think?

The silence stretched out long and sharp. I shifted. His eyes flicked down to my enamel badge. I looked slightly past his left ear. He looked up to a spot between my eyebrows.

      "I’m Bojana,” said Bojana. “Can we see your notes?”

*

[LCN]

Currently, my life does not have a motto, but if it did, I might decide on “never follow someone back to their house when they have already talked, at length, about murder.”

      “We’re going to die,” I whispered to Bojana.

    “We might not be,“ she whispered back, unhelpfully. "Besides, we’re on holiday. Lighten up a bit.”

      “Whilst searching for my cat, I have found all manner of things,” I whispered, although it was louder this time, and so more like a murmur. “Some of those things have been death, and some have been worse still, although I won’t go into those, since we are on holiday. The point is - I have no wish to be killed again.”

      “You two aren’t very quiet whisperers,” the Obituary Writer called back, stopping in front of a door and rooting around in his pockets for a key.

“Besides, I’m not a murderer, and I find that accusation slightly offensive.”

      Beckoning us to follow, he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

I must admit: the house fit his whole aesthetic exactly. The curtains were a deep red, the carpets thick and shaggy, and there was, naturally, a typewriter, rather than a computer, left out on the dark oak table. There was another little pride flag in a skull-shaped mug, and on one wall hung a cork board that was covered in notes and red string.

“The house at Land’s End” read one note, which connected to another that said “The end of Land’s House???”, with three question marks, which is far too many for any normal person to use. Clearly, this job had put the Obituary Writer under large amounts of stress.

  I went to read further when -

  (the meow of a man-eating cat)

  - my thoughts were interrupted.

  He has a cat?

“You have a cat?” Bojana asked before I could. Damn.

  *

  [Obituary Writer]

The One Who Hunts wound himself between the man’s legs, purring.

“Three, actually. The One Who Hunts, The One Who Glares, and The One Who Sulks. They don’t eat people.”

      My two guests didn’t take that last sentence quite how I thought they would. The man stopped his idle scratching between The One Who Hunts’ ears. Bojana took half a step towards the door.

  “Okay, usually,” she began, “you don’t need to reassure someone that your cats won’t eat them.”

  “But I like to reassure people.”

    Bojana frowned. “I don’t feel reassured.” She looked over at her friend. “Do you feel reassured?”

      “I got eaten by cats once, whilst searching for my own,” the man said, with a dramatic stare into the middle distance. “They ate my right hand and my left foot, then they ate my nose and my tongue. My ribs were gnawed and my heart-”

      “Dude,” interrupted Bojana. “We’re on holiday, remember?”

      The man held up his hands apologetically but I was keen to hear more. If he had truly been eaten alive by cats, then I, the Obituary Writer, wanted to write him a damn good obituary. And with all due respect to Victoria, who was a much loved member of the community and will be sorely missed by all - this was the most interesting thing to happen all week.

“No please,” I said, “go on. I might even write you an obituary.”

    The man smiled- no- grinned. 

“Well then. How about I tell you, over a glass of wine?”

  *

(the narrator begins his song. It’s bittersweet, about missing cats, lost friends, and returning home at last)

  *

  [LCN]

When I finished telling my story, the Obituary Writer thought for a long time.

A long, long time.

“I think,” he said, at last, “you should meet my friend.”

  *

  [LCN]

Bojana said: “Dude.”

  I said: “I know.”

  Bojana repeated again: “Dude.”, a little more firmly.

  I said: “I know.”

      She pinched her arm. “Am I dreaming? I don’t think my imagination is good enough to make this up.”

      “We’re going, on the insistence of someone who may well be a murderer, to see the Angel of Death, who is not, as it were, a metaphor, and who is, unlike her sibling, the Angel of Life, quite a nice person, apparently.”

      Bojana sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that,” she said sadly.

       “If this all turns out not to be a metaphor,” I took a deep breath, “I’d just like to say-”

      “I’m not going to kill you,” someone interrupted with a voice like light refracted in glass.

      We screamed, Bojana grabbing my shoulder and me grabbing her arm. When we realised what we had done, we stayed like that anyway, because sometimes the comfort of having another person is worth more than pretending to be cool.

The woman was beautiful in the way that wildflowers growing up and out of a sheep’s skull are beautiful. She was pale and almost translucent, with a pair of great wings of bone folded against her back. Her eyes were old and sad, and her dress fluttered in the breeze like moth wings.

The Angel of Death.

      Bojana opened and shut her mouth a few times, trying and failing to find the words. “…dude,” she whispered at last, awe-struck. And then, slightly more worried - “Are you going to kill us?”

      The Angel cocked her head at us curiously. “I just said I wasn’t. Besides, I do not kill people. Only Life kills people.”

      I asked: “Can I use that line in my podcast?” and Bojana trod on my foot to get me to shut up.

      The Angel ignored both of us, which was probably for the best. “Why have you come to see me?” she asked instead.

        “Your friend is concerned about my friend,” Bojana said. “It was the bit about getting eaten by cats, I think.”

      In the trees, a raven cried out. “Woeful are the lost and woeful are the found! Caw!”

You know, I never realised American ravens were so eloquent.

      “They didn’t kill you though,” asked the Angel, in a way that wasn’t a question.

      “I got better.”

      “You bled out all over our nice carpet,” Bojana muttered.

      The Angel of Death didn’t say anything and that was an answer enough.

      “My cat is lost, and I miss it,” I began. “My search for it has lasted many years now, because I know that it isn’t dead. I have found people playing at being monsters and monsters playing at being people and I have found everyone else, who just sort of exist in the middle of those two states. I have been to strange places through strange portals and I have been to strange places like America, and, despite all, of this my cat is still lost.”

        The wind blew through the trees, a dog barked in the distance, the world turned on and on. My cat, wherever it is, meowed.

      The Angel looked at us with her sad eyes. “Why do you search for something forever out of reach, ignoring those around you? Your cat will return - all lost cats must show up somewhere.”

In a flurry of feathers, a raven settled on her shoulder. The light glinted off its eyes and I saw they were not eyes at all, but buttons. It cawed again as the Angel fed it a berry.

“Listen please: in life, death. In death, life. Enjoy it. Live a full, good life. It will make the wine taste better” She frowned for a moment. “Another person said those words before me, but I like them. Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone else tell you about what you already know.”

      And then she was gone, fading away like smoke spreading out into the night sky.

      Bojana let out a long, quiet whistle. “Do you think she’s single?”

[lunarliza]

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 2: Ping Pong Balls

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist | chapter one

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

Problem not solved.

You and Sophia eagerly sipped on your smoothies, waiting for the trio to show up to their five-o’clock session the Monday following the party. Alas, they piled through the front door with deflated shoulders. 

“Well?” Sophia perked, eyes gleaming, “How’d it go? Did you make him cry?! Please don’t spare any details!” Her palms clasped together in front of her like a kid who just came up with an evil-genius plan.

“Tell them what happened,” Annalise ordered Arabella, clocking the fiery-haired girl’s shoulder. 

Arabella sighed dejectedly. “Well... not exactly. So I went to the party, hoe clothes on and everything like we planned. Saw him, used my signature look and look away move, and it worked! He came over and we started talking and-”  

“She fucked him,” Maia finished bluntly, prompting a betrayed gasp from Sophia and face-palm from you. 

“Mhm,” Annalise added, “He whisked her away before me or Maia could get the chance to interfere.” 

“I couldn’t help it!” Arabella cried, covering her face in mortification, “He was just so... smooth and sweet. And those eyes! We started talking about sea turtles! You guys know they are my weakness.”

You couldn’t help look on your face. Arabella was sweet, no doubt, but boy, the girl sure was spineless. It was a good thing she was pretty.  

“He is the devil!” Sophia enunciated each word of her sentence and huffed. “This is going to be harder than I thought!” 

“We just need someone stronger! Someone with a heart of steel unlike this one,” Annalise added, smacking her friend on the back. 

“We could give it another go,” you agreed, “but who’d be our guinea pig now?”  

You pondered at the ceiling until you felt all four pairs of eyes practically stab at you. It was like jumping into a vulture’s nest. 

“Oh no, not me!”

“Why not?” Maia questioned, frustrated. “You’re the only available one left. Plus, you couldn’t give two shits about him. It’ll be like busy work to you.” 

“Yeah not gonna happen. Find someone else, please. This is non-negotiable.” 

Out of nowhere, Sophia seized your hand and tugged you into the back room of the shop. “Excuse us for a minute,” she said to the girls before shutting the door of the crammed space.

It was a good thing your supervisor left early for the day, your asses would be toast if he were to witness the scene. 

“I think you should do it,” your best friend urged.  

“Have you lost your mind?!” you yelled-whispered. 

“Oh come on, y/n! Do it for me. For Annalise. No! Do it for all the girls on this island who has ever shed a single tear for him!” 

You sighed heavily. “I can’t do it, Soph. I’m sorry. He’s terrible and Karma has her kiss for him, but not me. Also, you know how I feel about those parties at the Boneyard.” Your look grew to one of disgust. 

“Mhm,” she crossed her arms, “This wouldn’t be because of Pope would it?” 

“No!” 

Yes. It absolutely was. 

So you might’ve maybe use to have a teensy tiny little crush on Pope Heyward-one of JJ’s best friends. It wasn’t your fault he was so cute and smart... and respectful! 

The boy stole your heart and ran away with it when you were paired up for science lab sophomore year. Him, being the genius he was, always did the experiments so gracefully while you royalty fucked everything up. 

One day, you poured the wrong solution into the beaker and the goopy liquid exploded everywhere. However, without an ounce of complaint, Pope offered to stay after with you to scrub down the walls and tables. A modern day romance if there ever was one. 

After months of daydreaming about him, you finally worked up the courage to ask him to the end-of-year dance. Sophia and your other friends hyped you up as you approached his locker after school.

Much to you dismay, he said no. But he did it in such a nice way, you couldn’t hate him for it. If anything, it made you hurt even more that you got rejected so kindly. Ever since then, you never stepped foot near him or his friends, too humiliated to even think of it. 

“You’re a terrible liar, y/n,” Sophia stated. 

She then grabbed onto your shoulders to stare you straight in the eyes. “Look, I know you swore never to see Pope again, but, honestly, fuck him! He missed out on a kick-ass date. But think- you could kill two birds with one stone! Go to the Boneyard, look hot as fuck, dance on JJ a bit and then vamoose! Pope’s jealous and JJ gets a bite in the ass!”  

Your brows furrowed in annoyance. Leave it to Sophia to convince you into her petty ploys. “I don’t know...” 

She persisted further. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this because I knew you’d be super jealous, but my cousin got me front row to Venus Panic in Charlotte at the end of the summer.” 

Your eyes jolted out of your head. “No fucking way!” 

You loved Venus Panic with a dying passion. They were your favorite band who never ever came to the U.S. 

Sophia let out a long breath. “Yes. If you do this, y/n, the ticket,” she paused, “the ticket is yours.” 

It was like pulling teeth from her to make that kind of offer. Damn her for being so conniving! 

“Alright. For Venus, I’ll do it.” 

“Thank the gods!” Sophia leaped up and down in the confined room, hugging you and thanking you a ga-zillion times. 

She looked as if she sealed a million dollar deal when you two emerged from the room. You, on the other hand, were ready to fling yourself to the seagulls. 

“Operation JJ Maybank must die is a go girls!” she announced before the group started frolicking up and down, earning stares from people looking through the glass. 

“Alright, alright,” you said as they settled down, “Now that we have that done, can we please actually surf now?” 

-------------------------------

The night of the next Boneyard party, you and Sophia drove to the condo the girls were staying at. Pulling up to the building, both yours and Sophia’s eyes widened. You knew the complex was on Figure Eight, but you didn’t know it was that luxurious and huge.��They even had valet at the front, and you were greeted by doorman on your way in. 

Apparently Annalise’s dad was an important rich man in Virginia. He remarried, and was currently honeymooning in some exotic island. Sending his condolences, he let her choose whichever one of his condos she wanted to stay at for the summer with friends. For some unknown reason, she chose the Outer Banks. 

“Party’s here!” Sophia sang when Arabella answered the door. 

You entered into the spacious unit, in awe. The endless kitchen was lined with white Italian wood while the counters were topped with the fanciest marble you had ever seen. The living room was the size of your house with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the island. And the view was spectacular. 

So this was how the other side lived. 

Maia and Annalise squealed when they emerged from their rooms and hugged you and Sophia hello. They had on silk robes with their hair up in rollers. The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show had nothing on them. 

They handed you two some seltzers from the fridge before Maia dragged you to the gigantic vanity in her room. Eyeshadow palettes, brushes, and compact powders littered the surface. She sat you down and fiddled with the ends of your hair. 

“So, y/n, what kind of look do you wanna go for tonight?” 

You were taken aback. “I’m not sure. Maybe something natural since we’re gonna be outside?” 

Maia scoffed playfully and shook her head. “Y/n, it’s a party! If you’re not glamming you’re not scamming. Actually say no more! I know exactly what we’re gonna do.” 

And so, she worked her magic as you watched through the bulb-lined mirror. You asked her about the products she was using while she gave you the rundown of the importance of each item and step. She was very knowledgable and swift with her hand- especially when it came to the winged liner. 

You got along with Maia. You learned that she had a successful makeup channel and wanted to start her own brand one day. She also told you about her boyfriend and how he was in Thailand for the entire summer. 

After two hours of searching for lost lip glosses, waiting on Annalise to change for the tenth time, and chugging your fifth seltzer, the five of you finally made it to the Boneyard at its peak hour. 

Linking arms, you all strutted down the beach, ready for your mission. 

The four scattered when you reached the sea of people, leaving you to locate the blonde target. After a few minutes of searching, you couldn’t find a single trace of him or any of his friends. 

Heading over to the keg, you poured yourself a drink in hopes it would loosen your raging nerves. It also didn’t help that Maia’s bikini top was hardly covering your nipples. You knew a nip slip was just waiting to happen at some point in the night. 

You casually sipped your drink and circled the party again, catching a glimpse of the wavy-haired boy at the beer pong area. 

JJ slammed his fists on the table after landing another shot. 

“Fuck yes! One last shot and your ass is grass!” he belted to his competitors: two random tourist boys who were chugging at a ridiculously slow pace. JJ then proceeded to high-five his friend, John B, who you also recognize from school. 

“Don’t be a coward,” you muttered to yourself before striding to the crowd clamoring around a fold-out table. 

From the sides, you attempted a few of the “flirty glances” Arabella taught you but no luck. The boy would much rather bounce a ping-pong ball.

You resorted to crossing your arms and waiting for the game to be over. With no surprise, JJ and John B won as the tourons groaned and withered away to the bonfire. 

“That’s right baby! Undefeated!” JJ gloated with his hands smugly flung in the air. 

“Alright who’s next?” John B shouted, earning no response from the herd. 

Welp... it’s now or never. 

“I’ll play,” you volunteered and stuck your hand up. You could feel JJ staring at you quizzically.

“Alright, alright we have a challenger! But who’s your partner?” John B asked. You wanted to slap yourself for not thinking this through properly.

“I’ll do it,” a deep voice spoke behind you. You whirled around to meet eyes with none other than Pope. He stood cooly behind you with a beer in hand. 

You originally planned to avoid him at all costs during the party. But that all went down the drain as he set down his drink and started ordering the cups in a pyramid formation. 

“You’re going down Heyward!” JJ hollered, taking the first shot. The ball glided into the first cup with ease. John B’s shot followed, but bounced off to the side. 

Your partner grabbed the beer and hurled it down instantly, using his wrist to wipe his mouth. You snatched the fallen ball on the ground while Pope nodded for you to go first. 

So this might have been the first time you’ve every played beer pong in your life. But, in your defense, you’ve done it a million times on your phone. It couldn’t be that hard. 

You tossed the first shot and it wheezed over all the cups. Whoops. 

“This is too easy,” JJ jeered, eyeing Pope as he made the next throw. It landed in one of the back cups and John B swallowed the contents down. 

“Sorry, I’m just off my game today,” you mumbled to your partner. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You wanna know my trick?” Pope raised as another one of JJ’s balls flew into one of your cups. You raised your brows as he handed you the beer. 

“The more drunk you are, the better you play.” 

Guzzling down the liquid luck, you fingered another ball and took your aim. Flinging it towards the mass, you gasped when it actually landed into the center cup. 

“Oh my God!” you cheered as Pope’s face mimicked yours. He high-fived you with both hands as you bounced up and down in glee. 

“That’s what I’m talking about y/n!” 

For the rest of the game you and Pope played neck-and-neck with the other two, continuously making shots and chugging down beer. His tactic worked. You were on fire. 

The flock around you chanted your name every time you scored. You could see your friends hanging around in the far corner hollering your name and sending you thumbs ups. 

It was game point as both teams had one target left. It was their turn. JJ took the stage, chucking the ball skillfully. Much to your demise, it swirled along the rim before plopping in. JJ roared out in victory. 

“Hold your horses,” Pope interjected with a finger in the air, “We still have redemption.” 

“Let’s see it then,” John B panted, worn out from the tension. 

“You got this.” Pope patted you on the back and handed you the ball. 

Your eyes bursted. “W-What? No no no, Pope you go.” 

“Relax, y/n! I believe in you. Just focus.” 

You gulped and turned to the boys taunting you across the table. Saying the quickest Hail Mary in your head, you launched the ball and had to shut your eyes. 

A sudden rush of shrieks alarmed you. Peeling your eyes open, you saw both JJ and John B’s jaws plummet to the ground. 

It went in. 

“Now that’s what the fuck is up!” Pope hurled his fist at this chest. You were frozen in utter disbelief. Maybe the Gods were in your favor. 

Pope added two more cups to your side of the table as John B copied his actions. The four of you went at it a few more times before you were one-and-one again. Both John B and JJ missed and the balls rolled back over to you. 

Taking the first shot again, you slung the ball, but it flew off the rim. You were chattering on your nails as Pope proceeded to make his attempt. 

One swish and the ball landed straight in the hole.  

You both jolted up in the air, doing a little victory dance. JJ shushed you- ready to go for his redemption kill. His ball missed the cup by a hair and John B’s slid off the table, deeming you and Pope the winners. 

In your exhilarated drunken state, you threw your arms around Pope, and he let out a soft chuckle. You hastily pulled away after you realized what you were doing. Thankfully, the crestfallen losers immediately came over to shake your hands and say “Good game.” 

JJ’s hands hung onto yours a moment longer. He studied you with his eyes before treading away towards the bonfire. 

As winners, you and Pope stayed a few more rounds before getting beat out. You noticed JJ come back to watch you for a few rounds, eyes fixated on your every move. 

After shaking hands with the girls who beat you, you waved a confused Pope goodbye and jogged over towards the drink area for water. In the corner of your eye, you saw JJ hurry up to you with giddiness. 

“That was some game you played out there,” he complimented as you swigged down your water. 

“Thanks! Guess I just got lucky back there.” 

He leaned both arms on the table, raising his brows suggestively. “Might just be your lucky night then.”

Oh brother. 

You threw him an uneasy smile and treaded away to the dancing crowd. Of course, he followed you, struggling to keep up with your pace. 

“Hey, what’s your name? I’ve never seen you around before.” 

You scoffed low enough to where he couldn’t hear. Never seen you? You’ve been in the same classes since second grade. 

“I’m y/n.” You slowed down a bit, remembering your sworn duty. 

“Well I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” He flashed you a toothy smile. 

You stopped amidst the dancers as a popular, high-beat electronic song came on. You flung you hands around JJ’s neck and pulled him close. “Dance with me, JJ Maybank.” 

The two of you rocked back and forth for a while before the music transitioned to a provocative rap song. Both you and the light-haired boy rapped the entire first verse with ease, giggling once the chorus hit. 

“So... how come I’ve never seen you at one of these parties?” 

You shrugged tossing him a look of disinterest. “Not really my thing.” 

He tugged you in so his forehead was on yours. “Then what is your thing then, hm? What’s a cute girl like you up to all summer?” 

“I’m a surfing instructor.” 

“Is that so? You know, I’m a pretty good surfer myself...” His hands traced down to your swaying hips. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted, running your hands up and down his biceps flirtatiously. 

It was probably the alcohol doing all the work, because in that moment, you knew you were being absolutely irresistible to the boy who’s hands were burning to stay in the... respectful areas. 

“Maybe one day I can show you,” JJ rasped. You barely heard him through the booming of the speakers, but still locked eyes with him alluringly. 

“Mmm, don’t really have time for amateurs.” 

“Ouch... feisty aren’t we?” His lips were millimeters from yours. 

“Please, you know you like it.” You decided to close the gap. 

Boy, were his lips soft. His chiseled hands made way to tangle up in your hair as he expertly kissed you amongst the throng of people. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you could feel how hungry he was. 

You stopped after a minute, purposely cutting it short. His eyes were aching for more, but you refused. You wanted to starve him. 

“Wanna get out of here? There’s a cool place on the beach I can show you,” he asked, fingers toying with the back string of your bikini. 

You shrugged. “Why not.”

Smirking, JJ’s hand snaked around your waist as he led you to the back trees of the Boneyard. You approached a small patch of sand enclosed by a circle of trees, and it all clicked in your head. This was his sex hideout. 

You glanced around the spot. The moon beamed straight into it, and the leaves of the trees hung down fancifully. In its own weird way, it was kind of romantic- if you didn’t think about how many times he’s taken people there to fuck.

He tugged you towards the center, wrapping you in his muscular arms. 

“You’re the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. I could just eat you up,” he muttered seductively, nipping at the sides of your jawline. 

You were beginning to understand it now- his irresistibility. The guy was charming. You let him kiss you for a little bit until you felt him undo your back bikini string. 

You quickly jerked away, tying it back into a bow.

“You know what, I think I’m good,” you said abruptly, backing away. 

JJ looked as if someone offered a kid ice cream and knocked the cone off the second he was about to dive in for the first taste. “Wait! Where are you going?” he urged.

“Away.” 

His face flooded in disbelief as he let out a loud scoff, darting after you as you jogged back to the dancing pack.

“Wait! Y/n come back!” he called out. 

“What for? I’m not sleeping with you JJ!” you shouted, making sure everyone around you heard. 

When his face went beet-red you knew you work was done. 

You sped up the sand, out of sight, to Annalise’s car where your friends were circled. They whooped and cheered at your presence. 

“We saw everything!” Maia exclaimed, hauling you in for a bone-tight hug. 

“That was so awesome! Y/n, you’re my hero!” Arabella chimed in while you all crammed into the Mercedes. 

“Ladies, ladies,” Annalise began before pulling out of the parking lot, “Tonight we celebrate the fall of JJ Maybank!” 

The car erupted in drunk glee as everyone swaddled you from their seats. 

As you drove back to the condo, Sophia rolled down her window from the backseat and stuck out her head. 

“Fuck you JJ Maybank!” 

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note: dw there is even more D R A M A to come lolz 

chapter 3

tags: @obxlife​ @rudyypankow​ @yeehaw87​ @ilymarkchan​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @tangledinsparkles​ @toloveortobeinlove​ @pixelated-pogues​ @normatural​ @teamnick​ @drizzlethatfalls​