#i’m living for john b and brownie

[hazyspiderwebs]

Baking with John B.

• You usually only baked when you were stressed something about aggressively stiring batter was very calming

• John B had watched you and your stress baking sessions many times but this time he wanted to help you alleviate your stress

• As you were getting the different dishes you would need John B looked at the recipe and got the ingredients for you

• He glanced at the mixing spoon you had picked out and switched it out for a different one

• “I can tell you from experience this is the best spoon for aggressive mixing” he spoke with a playful smirk

• “I’m kind of surprised to hear you’ve actually cooked something.” You responded with an innocent smile

• He dramatically put his hand on his heart “I can’t believe you would say something so hurtful. But you’re kind of right I only used it for cereal.”

• “Why were you aggressively stiring your cereal?”

• “Honestly that’s my favorite spoon and I just wanted you to use it.”

• As it came time to crack the eggs John B excitedly showed you he could crack two eggs at a time and surprisingly he didn’t make a mess with it

• You started aggressively mixing the batter as your arm began to tire out

•John B took the bowl from you and started stiring for a while

• “Hey Y/N is this right?” As you turned your head he put some of the brownie mix on your nose

• “No it’s more like this.” You replied and smeared some on his cheek

• He stared at you in shock not expecting you to actually retaliate

• You both started laughing as his shock faded

• He watched you pour the mix into the pan and his heart fluttered as he realized how much he loves you

• After you put it in the oven you turned around to see him staring at you causing you to blush and him to smile more seeing the effect he had on you

• As the brownies baked the two of you sat down on the couch. He threw a blanket over the two of you and you laid with your legs on his lap

• He absentmindedly stared massaging your legs and feet while talking about the latest adventure he had

• Before long you were both sitting in comfortable silence

• Until he started tickling you

• You threatened to not let him have any brownies

• “You can’t refuse me brownies in my own house.” He scoffed

• “Try me”

• Before he could reply the timer went off. After the two of you let the brownies cool John B got a bowl and got some icecream out of the freezer

• He cut the brownies and you were kind of shocked at how perfectly he cut them

• He topped a brownie with the icecream and led you back to the living room

• You laid on his side and he took turns feeding himself and you

• He started making airplane sounds as he would feed you

• Initially it was annoying but then you looked into his eyes and saw how happy he was and your heart filled with love

• Baking with John B was a lot more stress relieving than baking by yourself

[amourology]

john b playing with brownie’s ears whenever he’s anxious —concept anon

STOP PLEASE I LOVE BROWNIE AND JOHN B SO MUCH

also jonn b just holding the little bear tighter and tighter against him when he’s upset or something bc its embrace reminds him of his father

the pogues knowing you never tease him whenever he’s hugging brownie bc they know he’s really upset when he’s doing that so they’re instantly worried

and don’t even get me started on if he loses brownie — that boy would tear apart the island to find it only for it to be in his bedroom after it accidentally fell of the side of his bed

[collecting-stories]

Bake-off - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: can you write something with jj where the reader bakes a lot :) i understand if not, but i bake a lot (especially pies, i’m rambling sorry!) and thought this would be cute

A/N: So, since it’s JJ the baking had to include weed. 😛

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

The tray of banana nut muffins sat on John B’s table, half eaten. It was long before Big John died that there was ever even a homemade birthday cake in the house, neither men having much luck in the kitchen. But the muffins didn’t belong to John B anyway, they were JJ’s, which was even more peculiar, according to Kiara. If the Routledge men were shit at baking than the Maybank’s had never even turned on an oven.  

“They’re a gift.” JJ shrugged, laying across the laz-e-boy on the porch and munching on one.  

“A gift?” That was more shocking than their existence. JJ didn’t really get gifts and definitely not baked goods.  

“Did you mow someone’s lawn?” Pope asked, reaching for the muffin only to have JJ Flop away from him at the last second.  

“You could say that.” He grinned, attempting and failing a wink.  

“Ew, JJ.” Kiara groaned and walked back into the living room, emerging a moment later with one, “oh my god they’re edibles.”

“What?” Pope asked.  

“There’s weed in them.”

“Yes there is.” JJ grinned, “I ate two last night and was cooked. It’s some good shit.”

“Is it your shit?” Kiara asked, taking a bite.  

“Obviously, I said it was good didn’t I? I got the best shit on the island Kie.” He replied.  

“I know you didn’t make them so who made them for you?”  

-

JJ was a purest, as he dramatically referred to it. He rolled his own joints, dried his own weed for vaping, and he didn’t do edibles. At least he didn’t until one of the guys in the kitchen at the hotel turned 21. A box of cookies sat on the counter in the kitchen, marked Andrew. Double chocolate-chocolate chip, according to Andrew, and packed with a enough weed to “have you cooked after half of it”.  

“They’re delicious man, you gotta try one.” Andrew had insisted.  

“I don’t do edibles.”  

“You’ll regret it.”

And naturally, being told that there was the possibility for regret was a guaranteed way to ensure JJ did something. His bizarre fear of missing out dictated that he have no regrets and so he took one and ate the whole thing right there in the kitchen. And it was good...it was so good it didn’t even taste like weed and he was two seconds from telling Andrew he’d been dupped when he felt the familiar ease settle over him.  

“Where’d you get these?” He asked, slipping three into a plastic bag and dropping them in his backpack.  

“That girl that works in the kids area.” Andrew shrugged.  

You were a glorified babysitter, in charge of occupying people’s toddlers while they went out to play golf or shop or go to the spa. Not the greatest job in the world but the kids were usually easily contained and the parents always tipped well.  

JJ knew you to see you, always wandering around with some kid or another attached to your hip, talking about Frozen or Descendants...he’d heard you duet a song from some Disney Channel movie with one of the little girls just last week. It made you seem a bit green honestly. He couldn’t imagine you doing anything less than innocent, especially making your own edibles.  

He waited until after his shift to look for you, still wearing his white button up and vest but with his cargo shorts back on. You were outside supervising and participating in a game of soccer with a handful of eight year olds.  

“Hey,” he called, waving to you as he walked up. You tossed the soccer ball back into the makeshift field and turned toward JJ, “Andrew said you made him those cookies, for his birthday.”  

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “I know he doesn’t like to smoke so...”  

“Could you make me some?”  

“Sure, what flavor?” You turned away for a moment to make sure all five of your children were still actively playing soccer and JJ took the opportunity to check you out. Your t-shirt advertised the hotel and hung loose on you. Shorts and a pair of running shoes completed the look and he was appreciative for the view of your legs.  

“Chocolate peanut butter.” JJ decided.

-

Chocolate peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodles, brownies, blondies, coffee cake, you and JJ had slowly formed a friendship built on experimental edible recipes. He supplied the weed and you made him whatever baked goods he could think up. He had even downloaded the Tasty app and Pinterest for the sake of finding new desserts for you to tackle.  

“So this girl just makes you whatever you want?” Kiara asked the next time a container of cookies appeared at John B’s house. Sugar cookies, with piped on icing that made them look like beach balls.  

“It’s business Kie. I supply the weed from my cousin, she makes the edibles. We sell them too, it’s a very lucrative business.” JJ replied, eyes closed, laying in the hammock outside John B’s while he smoked.  

Kiara was munching on a sugar cookie. She wasn’t really complaining about the edibles, her mom had been on her lately about the possibility of her smoking and the edibles were easier to hide. Especially because yours didn’t smell half as bad as some she’d had in the past. Mostly she was just curious about this girl that JJ was spending time with. He acted like it was casual but Kiara had known him for a long time and she knew JJ lacked the ability to hang out with a girl casually. Even they toed the line sometimes.  

“So when can we meet your esteemed business partner?” Kiara asked.  

“What?” JJ rolled his head to the side to look over at her, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. “Why do you wanna meet her?”

“Why don’t you want us to meet her?” She countered.  

“I don’t care. You can meet her.” JJ replied, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He couldn’t fool Kiara and he knew that but that didn’t stop him from trying. He didn’t want you to meet his friends, mainly because he liked having you all to himself. It meant your attention wasn’t divided four ways.  

-

“These are burnt on the bottom.” You commented, sitting on the kitchen island beside a cooling rack of peanut butter cookies. The peanut butter was JJ’s favorite though you usually didn’t make them because of allergies.  

“They’re fine.” JJ replied, munching on a cookie while he scrolled through tiktok. You rolled your eyes at him and held one up, turning it over to inspect the nearly black bottom of the cookie. JJ had sworn that he would keep an eye on them while you left to talk to your mom on the phone but he’d let the buzzer go two minutes before he finally took it out.

“At least you’re the only one eating them.” You remarked, taking a bite of the one in your hands. You scrunched up your nose at the taste of burnt cookie, “the high better be worth it.”  

JJ put his phone down, pushing off the counter so that he could come over and stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow as JJ moved your knees apart so that he could stand between your legs. He opened his mouth, letting out an ‘ahh’ and you rolled your eyes at him as you placed the burnt peanut butter cookie in his mouth.  

“It’s burnt.” You reiterated, watching him chew the cookie. You had discovered that JJ could pace himself far better with a blunt than he could a batch of cookies. He’d eat three in a row and get cooked, an unusual occurrence for him. You ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Your hair is so greasy it literally stands up on its own.” You teased.

“I washed it!”  

“The last time you went in the ocean does not count as a bath.” You replied. You continued to play with his hair as he leaned closer to you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.  

“You have off tomorrow?” JJ asked, still munching on his cookie.

“Yeah but my mom’s home all day.” You replied.  

The experimental creating of edibles had led to a friendship and then a something in between. You weren’t quite ready to call JJ your boyfriend but you certainly weren’t entertaining the idea of anyone else. He spent all his time at your house when he wasn’t with his friends or working. Even when your mom was home and there was no baking, he hung around. At work he sought you out throughout the day, more than once crashing whatever activity you were doing with your kids.  

“I was thinking you could come out on the boat with us.” JJ said. He was determined, now that he’d told Kiara he would, to introduce you to everyone. It certainly didn’t mean that he was planning on giving up his alone time with you but he’d concede to Kiara this time. “My friends wanna meet you.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” You replied, smiling at the implication that he was introducing you to his friends, “but I’m making them better cookies cause these are burnt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“No but there’s something wrong with me for trusting you to watch the oven.” You said.  

His eyes opened and he pouted at you. “I’m very responsible.”

“I know babe.”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @jolomez @timotaychalabae 

[highpope]

Silver Keys - Ch. Four

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton // Soulmate AU

warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing

notes: HI! I rewrote the ending of this ch. instead of finishing my Industry paper. I really hope you liked it :) Let me know what you think!!

Tags: @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @auds24 @messagesinthesky @collecting-stories @cognacdelights @sunsetholland @uwubonebabie

(if you wanna be tagged or removed message me)

JJ never liked his birthday. It was just the weight of the day and the pressure to make it memorable. It was never something he could give himself. He didn’t like to make a big deal about it either. It was easier that way. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate what his friends did for him, he really did.

JJ remembers for his 16th birthday his dad was passed out drunk the whole morning and Pope came and picked him up and they went surfing all day. Later they stayed at John B’s, sang happy birthday, and had brownies, his favorite. He had found out later that Kie and June had baked the brownies themselves. It was the best birthday he had ever had.

JJ’s birthdays were always a fight with his dad. Like a sad yearly tradition that left him more bruised than the day before. The day reminded his dad of his mom and how they weren’t in love anymore and that she left him. That’s JJ, the constant reminder of the shitty world they live in.

His mom left them both. JJ always clarified that. If his dad got to be bitter and drink himself to death, then JJ got to be upset about it. Even just a little.

He hadn’t lived with his dad in a few years, only stopping in once and a while to make sure he wasn’t dead, had paid the bills, and kept food in the fridge. He didn’t deserve it, but not doing it made JJ feel guilty.

JJ had made it clear to his friends that he didn’t want to draw attention to his birthday this year.

“We’re not doing any party shit, okay? I just wanna go surf.” He had said Sunday. No one argued, but Kie did insist they at least go to The Wreck Friday for dessert. They all agreed and would stay over at the chateau to get to the beach the following morning. That was before June stood him up for surfing. And before she said she’d go out with Topper Friday night. Pope seemed to be on her side which was just the icing on his sad, sad birthday cake. He said as such to him when they went surfing Tuesday morning.

“JJ, I am not on anyone’s side. There are no sides.”

“But you knew!” JJ responded, his thoughts were circling in his head.

Pope sighed, “I knew that he sort of asked her out back at that party, but I didn’t know he came into the shop yesterday. and,” he gave JJ a pointed look, “I didn’t know you’d be this upset about June going on a date.”

“I’m not. She can go out with whoever she wants to go out with,” he said matter of factly.

Pope just raised his eyebrows and went back to unloading his car. They hadn’t made it down to the beach yet, JJ too distracted to keep walking.

“It’s just Topper man,” JJ fake shivered.

“Listen, no one’s thrilled about it being him, but we at least owe it to June to act, I don't know, neutral about the situation.”

“Okay, okay,” JJ brushed off his comment.

JJ wanted to say that no one knew if Topper was really June’s soulmate or not, but he knew that he would tell JJ not to be rude and accuse him of being in love with his best friend. Which was not the case here.

“No, I’m serious JJ. Don’t make her feel bad about going out with him. We owe it to her. That and about a million other things.”

JJ let that thought roll over in his mind. He was right. June was the most caring person in the world, she had put them all first every single time.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, “And what if it’s not him?”

Pope was already walking down the beach, annoyed at how long JJ was taking, “then we fuck his shit up.”

JJ laughed at his abruptness because that’s exactly what he would have said.

The both of them spent the next few hours in the water, but JJ couldn’t stop thinking about what Pope said. And that’s why, the next day, JJ got out of bed before noon and drove to the bait shop around the time June would be getting off. He knew she wouldn’t have driven there, it was too nice of a day. So, he sat in the parking lot and waited.

When she was finally leaving, she used the side door. JJ had to run to catch up with her, startling both himself and June.

“Hey!” he called out.

She froze before turning around, “what’re you doing?” “Can I drive you home?”

She thought about it before agreeing.

“I’m sorry,” JJ began when they had gotten out of the parking lot. She was quiet and very visibly tired.

“The JJ Maybank… apologizing?” So, she was still mad.

“Okay, I deserve that. Go ahead, give it to me.”

June stayed silent in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, “No, I just shouldn’t have said anything.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, “No, it was shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive about it. It really doesn’t matter who you go out with or who you don’t or if it’s Topper or whoever.”

He looked over at her, bouncing her leg up and down and still leaning against the door.

“Are we okay?” he asks

“Always.” It took a moment for her to look over at him but she smiled. JJ cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to the road. He already felt better, like he could breathe properly again knowing she wasn’t pissed off at him.

“What’re you humming?” He asks.

Her eyes were closed when she answered, “I don’t know. It’s been stuck in my head all day.” and then she started humming again, louder for JJ to hear.

“Oh, I know that song!” He starts to sing along, filling in the words.

June laughs, “I’ve literally never heard that song. That’s wild.”

“It’s your soulmate?” JJ poses tentatively.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” She breathed.

When they parked he asked, “Do you really think it’s Topper?”

June shot him a look instantly. He held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not arguing. Just… curious.”

She sighed a little before speaking, “I don’t know. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t try to find out, ya know?”

JJ just nodded his head, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. June climbed out of the truck and yelled behind her, “See you Friday?”

“Of course,” he yelled back. He watched her close the door behind her before driving off.

JJ didn’t go straight back to the chateau. Instead, he kept driving, the radio at the lowest possible setting, all the windows down until he ended up at his dad’s house. He parked a few houses down and just watched. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to build up the courage to go in, or if he wanted to see his dad come out, or what. He stayed for a while, not thinking about anything specific, just breathing in the cool air and watching.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad. He desperately tries to erase all traces of familiarity, every last thing about himself that could possibly lead someone to Luke Maybank. He hated him. He hated him for giving JJ his eyes and his rough demeanor. He used to wish to be softer, kinder, more gentle. Someone like Pope or June. Instead, he was steel, dented, and hard to fix.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad and everything he had done to him, that he couldn’t.

On Friday morning, well Friday afternoon, JJ walked into the living room of an empty chateau. Half asleep, he stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out an empty Eggo waffle box from the freezer. Cool. He then dragged his feet over to the cabinets and pulled out what was left of the coffee grounds and began making a pot. He thought about calling Pope and making him bring some breakfast from his dad’s, but then he saw the note on the counter.

went to get groceries. can’t survive on stale Oreos anymore

John b.

Well, that answered that JJ thought as his stomach growled. Stale Oreos didn’t sound too bad now.

About a half-hour later, he heard someone on the front porch and thought it must be JB back from the store, hands filled with groceries.

He flung open the door, “God, I’m starving. What-” He stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him was his dad. It felt wrong, having him here. In this place, in this safe space that he and his friends had created. Such evil and anger weren’t welcome.

“What’re you doing here?” JJ said when his mouth finally caught up with his brain.

“Is that any way to greet your father?” Luke spoke as if he was reading from a teleprompter. His words were slow and meaningless, slurred together without a thought behind them.

JJ stayed silent, disgust rising in him.

“Heard you were in the neighborhood.”

“No,” JJ said through gritted teeth, “must’ve been someone else.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’m the one who taught you how.” He was inching closer. He reeked of alcohol and sweat.

“You didn’t teach me anything.” He spits.

“Listen to me you little shit” Luke started, laughing as he lunged forward. It was a dark, empty sound. It made JJ’s ears ring. He closed his eyes for a second and the laugh echoed. It encompassed him, became him. JJ saw every fight, every empty beer bottle, every stack of cash blown away, every sleepless night and it overtook him. He was the product of hatred. He was steel, so scratched and dented and kicked in that not even the best people could fix him.

When JJ opened his eyes, his body hurt and his ears were ringing and he thought his lip was bleeding. He was laying on the porch, propped up against the doorframe. Once he was sure his dad had left, he started to get up. Every thought in his head was replaced by the throbbing of his left side. The more he walked, the more he breathed, the quicker it morphed into anger, “Fuck,” he yelled, “He came here! Here. Here. He was here.” He repeated it over and over until the words had no meaning. He left through the backdoor and ended up at the overlook. His mind was racing, replaying the moments from earlier and every moment prior. JJ didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to be the little kid with the shitfaced dad who forgot his birthday. But he was, so he did. JJ cried until his eyes were puffy and his head hurt and the sun had started setting.

Now, JJ was sitting in John B’s spare room. He crawled in through the window, not wanting to run into anyone if they were home. They were probably trying to call, but his phone was in the living room from this morning. He didn’t want to have to tell them, watch as their eyes scanned over him to assess the damage. He looked around the room that had somehow become his own. There were clothes piled on the floor, a few swimsuits left from the others hanging on the door, and empty beer cans littering the ground. The bed frame was broken, making the whole mattress tilt slightly towards the left.

JJ didn’t know what it was like to call someplace home. He was always hesitant, afraid that someone would just pull the rug out from under his feet and he’d be left falling. He never called his childhood bedroom home, it was a house. With four walls and a shitload of bad memories. He wanted to scream, why did he still let his dad have this control over him? He threw a shoe across the room and stormed out before stopping short in the hallway. He could hear a voice in the living room.

“Kie, it’s fine. I’m not going to be late, I just stopped at the chateau to get changed.”

She paused.

“Because it’s faster than driving all the way back to my house.”

“Okay, see you in five.”

Shit, his birthday dinner. JJ tried to retreat to the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. June had already seen him, “J! I didn’t know anyone was here. Thought you’d be with everyone else by now.”

She was holding onto the door frame with one hand and attempting to pry off her heels with the other. She was wearing a sparkling purple dress that he didn’t recognize and her hair was lazily pulled up on top of her head. A wave of nerves flooded his body, but he suppressed the feeling almost as fast as it happened.

He cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. I was just leaving. Actually.” He grabbed his keys off the counter. He wasn’t sure if she could see his bruised knuckles from there, but he didn’t want to give her the chance.

“I can drive,” she offered softly, “if you’ll wait five minutes so I can get out of this shit,”

He nodded his head, and slowly sat at the counter, “spare’s open if you want.”

She nodded, heading into the room. JJ took this opportunity to bandage his side in the bathroom. It was already bruised, so he put some aloe vera on before taping it up and changing into a different shirt. Pope had mentioned once that aloe vera can help inflammation. Ever since there’s been a bottle in the first aid kit. He liked the smell, reminded him of summer.

He cleaned the cuts on his hand and his lip like he should have when he first got here. The blood was dry on his face and cleaning it only made the cut reopen. Fuck it, he thought and met June back in the living room.

She had changed into jeans.

“Hey, is this mine?” she asked, pointing to the shirt she was wearing. It was a gray high school track t-shirt, “I forgot to pack one and saw this in the dresser.”

“Must be, I didn’t do track, hell no.”

She laughs before linking her arm through his and leading them to the car. JJ couldn’t help but wonder how her date went. She was in good spirits, better than usual he noticed. He wanted to ask, but he was certain he didn’t want to know the answer. He wanted to tell her about his dad, too, surprisingly. But he knew the face that she’d make as soon as the words were out of his mouth. And that hurt JJ more than the possible broken rib.

When they got to The Wreck, Mr. Carerra waved them to the back where the rest of their friends sat. It felt the most normal JJ had felt in a long time like time resets itself when the five of them sit around a wooden table eating ice cream.

He tried to focus on the conversation, on the light music being played through the restaurant, on the crickets outside, anything to ground him to this moment.

“JJ?” John B asked from across the table.

“Hey,” June said a little louder, hitting his stomach to get his attention. He winced slightly before responding, “huh? Sorry. I was, uh, trying to figure out what song was playing.”

Pope and Kie share a look before diverting their attention back to John B who repeated his question, “Are you excited to figure out your soulmate?”

“Oh,” JJ laughed, “yeah. Thrilled.”

“Come on, it’s kind of exciting. You’ve gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His eyes scan the table, stopping at each of his friends. Truthfully, he doesn’t want anything to change. He’d trade a soulmate for his friends any day. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

When Kie's dad finally kicks them out of the restaurant, he makes her stay behind to clean the tables. They all offer to help, but to JJ’s excitement she assures them to go ahead and that she'd meet back up with them in a little. Pope and John B hop in the van and start driving away before the rest of them are even in the parking lot, “See you in ten,” Pope yells from the passenger side.

Once June and JJ are in the car, she makes JJ close her eyes.

“Why?” he questioned.

“Just do it.”

“June, I really-”

“Please?”

He huffed and pulled down his hat to cover his eyes. He could hear her moving around next to him.

“Okay, open.” JJ did as he was told and was presented with a soft gift-wrapped present.

“Happy birthday,” she said sweetly. She was facing him, turned sideways in the driver's seat with her head resting on the chair.

“It’s not my birthday yet.” He said, meeting her eyes.

“I wanted to be first.”

“I told you not to get me anything.”

“I don’t care,” she chuckled.

“June,”

“Take the present, you jerk.”

He pulled back the paper revealing a keychain laid on top of some type of clothes. He held it up to get a better look and realized it was a surfboard with “OBX” written on it like from a tacky souvenir shop, “cute.”

She smiled, “now look at that.”

He lifted the crewneck in his lap, it was a light blue color and had stitching near the colors.

Before he could say anything June interrupted, “Found it in that thrift shop by my house the other day.”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, are you kidding?” He laughed a little, “thank you.”

She smiled again, satisfied with herself before turning forward and starting the car.

JJ messed with the rings on his fingers, examining the bruises that had started to form/

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,”

“Have you… heard anything else? Like your soulmate, I guess.”

He felt her hesitate beside him, “Ya know what nevermind. It’s okay, you’re pretty sure it’s Topper and you really don’t have to tell me anything. It is totally okay. I was just-”

“Nervous?”

He sighs, “yeah.”

She clears her throat, “it’s not scary. At all. It is weird though, weird as hell. I mean it’s almost like if you weren't paying attention, you’d never even notice.”

She had the same far-off look John B got when he talked about this shit. It made him uneasy.

“But to answer your question, I’ve only heard it a few times.”

He nodded his head and mulled over what she said.

When he opened the door to the chateau, he was met by everyone standing in the living room, “happy birthday!”

“You distracted me!” He yelled at June shutting the door.

“It was my job!” she yelled back, “I had to give them time.”

He was laughing at everyone’s stupid party hats and the tray of brownies with sloppy “happy bday J” iced on top with a single lit candle. He made a show of blowing it out and pulled the others into a hug. He pretended to be annoyed at the effort, but deep down he had been so excited.

Later, he tried to etch it into his mind. He wanted to remember tonight as the best birthday he had ever had. He smiled as he fell asleep on a mattress that didn’t tilt to the left anymore in a room that he had made his home.

[itsapapisongo]

FOR THE HOMIES | SKZ

Pairing: None, though you I don’t blame you if you spot any Ho-Yay moments.

Genre: Comedy | Crack Fic

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Felix loves to bake. The boys enjoy the “magic grass.” One thing leads to another and—well, you can guess the rest.

Notes: 

This is inspired and totally based on a post by @hanstagrams​; she deserves all the credit.

Though this is a fun little one-shot, this doesn’t reflect who the boys’ (Stray Kids’) are in real life. It’s a fictional portrayal of real people and thus not the real deal.

Keep in mind this is a) based on my own experience with the “magic grass” and edibles and that b) it’s for written for shits and giggles.

I kept the cast short, meaning it’s only Felix, Chan, Minho, and Jisung. Perhaps a follow-up one-shot might include the other boys—Changbin, Hyunjin, I.N., and Seungmi—because they, too, deserve to have fun.

CLING!

Felix, humming to a song he can’t name nor remember the lyrics to, calmly puts on an oven mitt and takes out the baking tray of recently baked brownies from their dorm’s small oven. Though the piece of equipment is old and ready to be replaced it still heats up and bakes like it’s a new model.

The strong yet smell of chocolate fudge permeates the kitchen and he can’t help but smile at it. It’s somehow therapeutic after a long night of dance practices or long days of promotion. Baking is Felix’s own little thing, a way to unwind and focus on something else entirely.

“What a master baker I am,” he says to no one in particular, smirking. “Five-star Michelin, baby.”

He looks at his pride and joy: an entire batch of chocolate fudge brownies, the perfect shade of brown sprinkled with the perfect amount of chocolate chips. He places the tray on the counter, leans in, and takes a whiff. Not only do they look amazing, they smell amazing too. Waving a hand over the tray in a circular motion, as though to keep the chocolatey scent all to himself, he chuckles. With a pep on his step and the catchy but unnamed tune still being hummed, Felix turns on the ball of his feet and crosses the kitchen from the counter to the refrigerator. He opens it, peruses its contents, then takes out four banana milks, balancing them with great care in two hands.

“For the homies,” he whispers, nodding to himself.

Felix pokes his head out the kitchen and sees his friends sitting on the ground, laughing and complaining, colorful cards flying from their hands onto a ground-level table. Bangchan laughs loudly, smacking Jisung’s knee as Minho cackles, doubling over, relishing in their friend’s awful luck. Apparently he’d been forced to pick up over eight cards.

“Yeah.” Felix finds himself smiling with crinkled eyes. “For the homies.”

The chocolatey fragrance still lingers in the kitchen, oddly soothing and tantalizing. It’s stronger than before, something else entirely harmoniously mixing in with the sweetness.

If only Felix knew what it truly was.

THEN, about an hour before . . .

“How the hell did you get that?”

Jisung asks this as his eyes widen at the paper bag Minho conceals in his hoodie’s pocket. He glances over his shoulder and sees Felix and Chan working on the brownie batter, talking amongst themselves in between chuckles and smacks on their shoulders. When Jisung looks back at his hyung, Minho stares back, impassive.

“I know people,” Minho retorts with a shrug.

A beat. Jisung looks over his shoulder, eyes toward the kitchen, then leans in real close.

“Can I meet them?” he whispers.

Minho glares, flicking Jisung’s forehead. “Definitely not,” the other says, scoffing. “You’ll scare them away.”

“C’mon, hyung.”

“Nope.”

“Pretty please?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Pretty pretty please?”

“Add another pretty and I might consider it.”

“Pretty pretty pretty—”

Another flick to the forehead. Jisung blinks, eyes toward the ceiling, a blank expression in his face. He smacks his lips and nods, as though to say I deserved that.

Minho sports a devious smirk. “I said I’d consider it not that I’d agree.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And yet you keep coming to me for cuddles.” Minho wiggles his eyebrows. He glances past Jisung’s shoulder and catches a glimpse of Felix stirring something in a mixing bowl. “Call Chan over.”

“What for?” Jisung asks, looking back and forth between Minho and the kitchen. “He’s busy.”

“Just wave him over.”

“Wave who over?”

While Minho merely blinks, Jisung gives a startled jump as Chan stands behind him. He has brownie batter in the tip of his nose, his hands smudged with chocolate and butter. His blond-dyed hair has a blue highlight across his bangs and it’s held back underneath a black bandana. His arms are exposed thanks to a white sleeveless tee. Equally amused and confused, Chan looks between his friends and demands an answer by lifting his chin.

“Something on your minds, darlings?”

“He’s got the stuff,” says Jisung through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at Minho’s hoodie. “The stuff, y’know? The magic grass.”

Chan raises an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle as Jisung nods. Minho, on the other hand, glares at Jisung.

“Subtlety clearly isn’t your forte,” says Minho.

“A lot of things aren’t my forte,” Jisung replies, shrugging. “And I’m still standing.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chan sing-songs, imitating Elton John’s lilt. He pats Jisung’s shoulder and leans on it. He sneaks a glance at the kitchen before turning his attention at Minho. “We’re doing this?”

Minho nods, tapping his hoodie’s pocket. “Oh we’re doing this.”

“Nice,” Jisung exclaims, fist-bumping Chan. His smile falters as he frowns. “What are we doing again?”

“Aish.”

“OI, Lix, need another pair of hands?”

Felix turns, stirring the batter with chopsticks and skillful ease. Chan joins in the kitchen, Minho close behind him. Jisung stands in the small corridor between the kitchen and the living room, eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He looks like he’s both amused and nervous, though he quickly looks away and disappears from view.

“Sure,” Felix replies with a shrug. “The more the merrier.”

“What can I do?” Minho asks, surveying the mess in the kitchen.

Felix looks around then passes him the mixing bowl. “Whisk this,” he says, momentarily distracted. “Chan, I need more eggs.”

“Right on it, mate.”

Minho sits on the table and begins to whisk the batter. He glances over his shoulder every now and again and when he’s certain Felix is too distracted to pay him any attention, he extracts the paper bag from his hoodie; the contents are gently placed on the table and hidden in plane sight. Felix comes by, looks over his shoulder, offers a thumbs-up, but just as quickly moves away when Chan calls him over.

It only takes Minho a second to slip the special stuff in the batter.

AN hour later, which is to say now . . .

“They’re done!” Felix exclaims from the kitchen. “What are you guys up to?”

Gathered around a table, conspiratorially looking at each other, Chan, Minho, and Jisung hold cards in front of their faces. Chan smirks at Jisung who, due to a streak of bad luck and constant betrayal by his friends, holds more than twenty cards in his hand. Minho, having played his cards well, simply looks between them and scrutinizes his hand. If all goes according to plan, he’d be able to win in the next eight to nine moves.

“We’re playing UNO,” says Chan, stifling a fit of laughter. “Oops. I meant kicking Han’s arse at UNO.”

Jisung mumbles complaint under his breath, tilting his head in annoyance. “This isn’t fair,” he whines.

Minho wiggles his eyebrows, throwing a Reverse to play his hand yet again. “Life, in general, isn’t fair,” he chuckles and pats Jisung’s knee. “But we know this, don’t we?”

Jisung looks at the Skip recently placed on the table and pouts. “Aish.”

“Lix, c’mere!” Chan shouts, red in the face from laughter. “You’re missin’ out.”

“Be there in a second,” their baker friend replies, his voice echoing loudly into the living room.

“I think he’s tasting them,” Minho whispers, eyes glued to the kitchen. He chuckles then grimaces. “Aw shit.”

Chan nods, as though to convey something obvious. “The whole point is that he tastes them.”

“With us, not on his own.” Jisung pipes up, drawing a Wild Draw 4 and setting it on the table without looking. He does this while biting his lip and snorts, concealing a giggle by clearing his throat. “Chan, it’s your turn.”

“He’ll be fine.” Chan barely reacts to Jisung’s play and adds a Wild Draw 4 of his own. He turns to Minhow and whispers, “You didn’t go overboard, right?”

Minho shrugs. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“It’s about whether or not we can handle it—”

“Felix has never touched the special grass.” Jisung points out. His eyes widen when Minho adds a Draw 2. “So it’s going to be like that, huh?”

“We’re keeping an eye on him.” Chan’s demeanor suddenly transitions from shits and giggles to team dad in the blink of an eye. “The moment we notice he’s not feeling well, we sober him the fuck up.”

“Deal.” Minho nods.

“Operation Sober Boy is officially a thing,” Jisung adds, smiling at having passed the burden of picking up twelve cards to Chan after drawing a Draw 2 of his own.

Chan nods, pouting with an impressed expression. “That’s a mouthful but I like it,” he compliments and smiles when he sees the cards. “Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen.”

From his hand, Chan throws a Green Draw 2. Minho stares at it. Unfazed, he draws yet another Reverse and Blue Draw 2 and slowly turns to take in Jisung’s look of utter shock. The inevitable betrayal that comes with playing UNO lingers in the air.

“You gotta be shitting me.”

“We can do this all day, Han.”

“Are you still bullying poor Jisung?”

They all turn when they see Felix join them, baking tray in hand, his every step bringing forth a mouthwatering aroma. He looks at them and smiles, his eyes crinkled with joy and his freckles distinctively present. Jisung plays his hand, drawing the last Draw 2 in his deck, and groans when Chan rebuffs him with yet another Wild Card 4. Minho chortles and responds with a Draw 2 his own.

“Aish, are you two planning this? This is an ambush!”

Felix chuckles, shaking his head. “Cut Jisung a break.”

“It’s just a bit of fun.” Chan waves Felix over, tapping the empty space to his right. “And UNO is the perfect game to build character.”

“This is a massacre,” Jisung whimpers as he begins to draw twenty-four cards. He looks at Felix and pouts, feigning tears. “Look at how they massacre your boy.”

“Hate the game, not the player.” Minho shrugs and, before anyone can correct him, he smugly adds, “If you say it’s the other way around, you’re playing wrong.”

“Let’s go with that.” Felix shrugs and sets the tray on a corner of the table. He smiles proudly. “I reckon this is my best batch yet.”

“It sure smells nice,” says Chan, his voice high-pitched. In the thickest Australian accent he can speak in, he whispers, “Chocolatey.”

“It sure does!” Minho agrees, the faint echo of laughter in his voice.

“Give me an eternity,” Jisung says, still counting cards. “I’m gonna be at this for a while.”

“Let’s eat!” Chan claps and rubs his hands together.

“Not yet, not yet.” Minho reaches out and gently gets a hold of Chan’s wrist. He looks at Jisung with mischief in his eyes. “I’m enjoying this.”

WHEN Felix said it’d been his best batch yet, the young idol and part-time baker hadn’t been wrong.

But while the boys divided an entire brownie between each other, aware that one for each of them would be a tad much, Felix, on the other hand, had an entire brownie by himself. The boys hadn’t noticed until Jisung pointed it out. Apparently Felix had been taking bites from it way before he joined them, which meant he’d started in the kitchen and finished eating it when he joined them in the living room.

The UNO cards have been put away—Minho won, leaving Jisung with forty-nine cards in his hand—and they sit in a circle, eating brownies and giving each other shit. The TV is on, though mostly for background noise, and Chan, in his infinite wisdom, makes a playlist to both set a mood and for future sessions.

Though he looks focused on the songs he’s picking, Chan is trying not to look worried or shocked. Every now and again, he glances at Felix with a worried glint in his eyes. Minho, anticipating what is soon to ensue, carefully watches Felix, smiling that smug smile of his that indicates he knows something his friend doesn’t. And then there’s Jisung, who openly stares at Felix bug-eyed, making obvious comments about the special stuff in the brownies and sporadically chuckling to himself.

Felix, for better or worse, hasn’t noticed any of this. He drinks his banana milk and carries a conversation about baking with Minho, explaining how he made the batch; he’s aware to not pat himself on the back too hard because, as much as he loves baking, he’s still a relative newbie to the whole thing. Minho nods and adds a thing or two but overall simply scrutinizes his friend’s body language.

Having an entire brownie is a recipe for a ripe high.

And just as he gives the final details, Felix feels it.

“So you just leave it for about thirty-five minutes and—” Felix zones out, his eyes widening. He blinks and blinks and blinks until he slowly turns to look upward, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His entire body relaxes to the point where he leans on his hands and stretches. “Crikey.”

Minho smirks and points at him while Jisung leans in and waves a hand over Felix’s eyes.

Chan, on the other hand, claps and sings an improvised song:

   Hey hey, ho ho

  Felix had some of the special dough

“Wh—what?” Felix asks, his eyes heavy. “Who’s a hoe?”

“He is,” Jisung absentmindedly replies, pointing a finger at Minho without looking. “A big one.”

Minho glares and works his jaw. “Dumb prick says what?”

Jisung is about to reply but Felix beat him to it: “What?”

Minho and Jisung exchange a glance and smile as Chan leans forward and gets Felix’s attention.

“How you feelin’, mate?”

“Loose.” Felix shakes his head. Though the gesture is gentle, to him it feels like the heaviest and slowest movement in the world. His eyesight is blurry then clears and everything seems to move in a different frequency and is presented in a strange, one-of-a-kind filter. “Very, very, very loose.”

“How are the brownies?” Jisung asks, giggling.

“They’re—have I ever mentioned how pretty you are, Minho?”

“Once or twice.” Minho winks. “But do go on.”

“See? He’s a hoe.”

“Yah!”

“But you’re my hoe.”

“You little—” Minho motions to punch Jisung’s knee but relents when Jisung blows him a kiss. He scrunches up his face in a mocking face. When Jisung looks away and lets Felix lean on him, Minho softens and can’t help but smile. “Lix, you look like you could use something to drink.”

Felix nods, giggling. “I’d love something to drink.”

Chan looks at his friend’s hand and sees the half-drunk banana milk there. He pretends to hand it over to Felix then shakes his wrist a bit. “There you are, Lix,” he says.

“Heol!” Felix’s eyes widen and he giggles a bit more, a high-pitch sound of pure joy. “You’re pretty fast there, Chan-Chan Man.”

“Sure am.” Chan snaps his fingers, motions finger-guns.

Felix smacks his lips, nods to himself. “This is definitely my best batch.”

“Does it have a name?” Jisung asks, genuinely curious.

“Super Duper Brownies!”

Minho snorts, choking on his banana milk. “Come again?”

“I would need to be hard for that to happen.” Felix giggles. “I can’t come without—”

Chan chokes on the small brownie piece he’s eating. Jisung scoffs, a hand over his mouth to cover his laughter. Minho, on the other hand, rolls his eyes in that way a diva does after hearing the lamest pick up line of the century.

“Whoa, buddy, pal, mate, easy there on the dirty talk.” Chan pats his chest then shakes Felix’s leg.

“What’s the taboo? Sex is sex is sex.”

“Shit.” Minho raises an eyebrow, amused. “He gets all philosophical when he’s high.”

“High? Who’s high?”

The boys look at each other then back at Felix. “You are,” they chorus, apprehensive amusement laced in their voices.

“Come again?” Felix leans forward, groggily blinking. “Did you just say I’m high?”

They nod.

“I haven’t smoked any magic grass.”

“Hey!” Jisung raises his hand, waiting for a high-five. “I call it that too.”

Felix absentmindedly high-fives Jisung. “You haven’t smoked any of it either. Dunno what you’re on about.”

“That’s because we didn’t smoke it.” Chan replies sheepishly.

“We ate it,” says Minho, lifting his chin and pointing at the baking tray with his eyes. “And you ate an entire brownie by yourself. You’ll be pretty fine and dandy for a while.”

“You—what—huh?” Felix blinks and scratches his head. The sensation is both new and familiar, feeling soothing to this touch. “Did you put some magic grass on the batter?”

“Not exactly magic grass.” Minho smiles with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Super duper special butter.”

“Butter?” Felix asks, but he says it in english so his Australian accent comes off very thick. It sounds like buttah instead of butter. “I think you put too much of that buttah.”

Minho nods, grimacing for a fraction of a second. “I might have gone overboard, yes.”

“Why do you say that?” Jisung looks worried.

The question is answered as Minho blinks and nods to himself, lips puckered. His eyes look glazed over as he begins to giggle. The giggle becomes a modest chuckle then hysterical laughter. Minho’s laughter is echoed and matched by Felix’s, a contagious fit of guffawing that is hard to contain. Chan and Jisung exchange a glance then look at their friends.

“It hasn’t hit me yet.” Chan raises his eyebrows and shrugs. His head suddenly feels heavy, sort of forcing him to lie down. “Wait—shit-fuck—I spoke too soon.”

Jisung chortles, shaking his way to show disappointment. “You’re weak, fellas,” he says, reaching for half a brownie. “You don’t have what it takes.”

“Han, sing us a song,” Minho requests, fighting a fit of giggles. “Can you sing opera?”

“I can certainly try,” Jisung retorts, his mouth full.

“Do or do not,” Felix chimes in, his voice high-pitched. “There is no try.”

“Hey hey, ho ho—” Chan sings, his voice cracking.

“—Felix’s Yoda, yo!” Minho finishes, snapping his fingers to a beat that is only in his head.

“Shit.”

Chan, Felix, and Minho turn to Jisung. He’s mid-munch and he looks lost in thought.

“Something in your mind, darling?” Minho asks, dragging himself toward Jisung. “Do you feel relaxed?”

“What was that about us being weak?” Chan raises an accusatory eyebrow before chortling. “You drongo, you.”

Jisung perks up. “Bongos? Where?”

Minho rubs his forehead. “This is going to be a long night.”

“Chill out, we have brownies.” Felix reaches for the baking tray, picking a bigger brownie than he expected. “We’ll be coolio.”

“Did he say ‘coolio’?” Chan asks through gritted, covering his mouth with his hand though exposing his mouth to Felix and not Minho.

“I can read your lips,” whispers Felix.

“Shit.”

“Language.” Minho snaps. “For fuck’s sake.”

Jisung snorts. “What an example you’re setting for all of us.”

“A terrible one.” Chan giggles, his eyes crinkled. Smoking grass every now and again was fun but eating it was another thing altogether. “We gotta thank Lix for this batch, though. If I had stars to give, I’d gladly give you the whole damn night sky.”

“Bro,” Felix whispers, his voice deeper than the Mariana Trench.

“Bro,” Chan whispers back, tapping Felix’s nose with his index finger.

They move closer and lean on each other, foreheads touching. They remained like this for a while until Felix sits straight and sighs a heavy sigh of relief, as though he’d been tense and is only know letting go of all the weight on his shoulders.

“I’m a great masturbator.” Felix the Idol-Baker nods and smiles, his eyes suddenly and oddly watery. “I’m such a talented masturbator.”

The boys blink.

It takes the quartet a full minute to realize the Freudian slip.

“Fuck! I meant I’m defo master baker!”

Chan sighs in relief. “Had us scared for a second there, champ.”

“But I’m also a wickedly talented mastur—”

“Have another brownie.” Jisung snatches the brownie Minho snatched from Felix and returns it to its original owner. “Before you say something you might regret.”

“Too fucking late.” Minho burps. He stands up and points at each of them. “More milk?”

“Defo, mate,” Felix and Chan chorus, high-fiving at their synergy.

Minho sighs and rolls his eyes. “Be right back.”

It  will take Minho twenty minutes to return. By then, half of the tray is empty, and the boys are playing UNO again—though no one is paying much attention, even while high the inevitable betrayal that comes with playing UNO lingers in the air.

[moldisgoodforyou]

give a little: chapter two (jj maybank x oc)

MASTERLIST

pairing: jj maybank x oc

synopsis: charlotte “charlie” walker is a rising senior at the university of south carolina, an exercise science major, a kappa, and is back in the outer banks for the summer. she’s stubborn as hell, isn’t rich enough to be a kook or poor enough to be a pogue, and is used to being in the background. she and jj both go to USC, her sorority and his frat (beta) running in the same social circles but the two rarely speak at school. things change when they run into each other at the boneyard in the summer.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of sex, all characters are 21+

mainly filler!

wordcount: 2.6k

_______________________________________________________________________

JJ nodded. “Alright, good night Charlie. I’ll see you around.” He leaned in slightly, like he was about to kiss her, then changed his mind at the last second. 

She realized her eyes had almost fluttered shut in anticipation, then shook her head, taking a large step away from him. “See you around, JJ,” she replied over her shoulder before going inside.  

She shut the door behind her and leaned up against it, smiling to herself. Maybe JJ Maybank wasn’t all that bad. 

JJ had walked all the way home that night with a dopey smile on his face. It took him 45 minutes to get back to his side of the island, but he decided it was worth it to get Charlie home safe. The next morning, he woke up early and was at the kitchen table of the Chateau, scrolling through his phone  like a madman. John B ambled out from his bedroom, confused at why JJ was already up. “Dude, you just disappeared last night. Did you hook up with Charlotte?” He asked. 

JJ shook his head, intent on whatever was on his phone screen. “No, of course not, and she prefers Charlie.” 

“Okay…” John B took the seat across from him, intrigued by his friend’s strange demeanor. “What are you looking for?” 

“Look, I didn’t get her number last night, and I found her Instagram but I don’t want to slide in her DMs and be all creepy. So I texted two girls in Kappa that would know her, but I kind of ghosted them after we hooked up so obviously no response there. I even thought about seeing if she’s on Facebook but no one is on Facebook anymore.” 

John B just gaped at him in response. 

“What?” JJ snapped, annoyed. 

“I mean, it’s just...I’ve never seen you like this about a girl before,” John B laughed. “Did you even kiss her?” 

JJ shook his head and ran his hand through his hair in distress. “Of course not, she was drunk.” 

John B scoffed mockingly, shaking his head. “Like that’s ever stopped you before. Why are you so set on this girl?” 

“Have you seen her? Plus, I want to prove I don’t have a reputation. We go to the same school, we might as well be friends,” JJ reasoned. 

“Yeah. Okay. Friends is what you’re after,” John B replied, dubious, as Pope walked into the Chateau. 

“Who wants to be friends?” He asked. 

“JJ claims he just spent a good hour tracking down Charlotte on his phone just so they can be friends,” John B told Pope, shaking his head. 

Pope had the same reaction as John B. “I haven’t heard that one before. Did you guys hook up?” 

“Why does everyone assume that? And John B, I told you she goes by Charlie.” JJ replied, going back to his phone. 

“Such a simp.” John B punched JJ’s arm lightly.  

“You’re one to talk, have you seen yourself with Sarah?” JJ snapped, shoving John B back. 

Pope laughed. “You’re both simps, but JJ, you know her family’s ice cream shop is right next to the Wreck, right? Why don’t you just go find her there?”  

“Oh my god, Pope, that’s the best idea you’ve had in centuries! Let’s go.” JJ practically jumped out of his seat, before Pope clapped him on the shoulder to stop him. 

“You think the shop is gonna be open at 9 am?” 

JJ slumped back down in the chair with a groan. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Later that next morning, Charlie woke to a couple texts from Grace after she had confirmed she got home safe. 

Grace: so JJ Maybank took you all the way home and you didn’t even kiss  

Grace: like, THE LIST JJ Maybank 

Charlie laughed, reading the texts and shot off a quick reply. 

Charlie: nothing happened, like I told you. he’s not into me like that at all 

Grace: i just don’t want u to get hurt like u did with rafe 

Charlie: that feels like so long ago, I’m not gonna let that happen again

Grace: i mean it was only 5 months ago, i’m looking out for u ok

Grace: and remember this is JJ we’re talking about here, of all people

Charlie: I know. talk to you later 

After getting ready for the day and pulling on her uniform, Charlie sighed before looking over her slightly-hungover appearance in the mirror. “Another day, another dollar.” She yelled goodbye to her parents, slipping out the door before they could berate her again for not staying in to watch her brother - even though he was eleven and definitely old enough to be at home alone. Unluckily for Charlie, her little brother Jamie was also old enough to notice her sneaking out and waited up to tell their parents the second they came home from date night. 

Charlie got in her car and inhaled deeply once she realized she could still smell JJ in the fabric of her front seat. After a moment, she caught herself. “Get a grip, Charlie,” she muttered to herself, then drove to work. 

She prepared the shop and just as she was unlocking the front door to open it to the public, Kiara walked out from the Wreck. 

“Hey, Charlie! I didn’t know you were back for the summer.” She greeted her warmly, waving to catch her attention. 

They had been friends in high school, nothing close, but close enough for her to know that she wouldn’t be caught dead being called Charlotte. The two had drifted apart once they went to separate schools, Charlie at the University of South Carolina for exercise science and Kiara at the University of North Carolina Wilmington for marine biology, but they kept in touch through social media. 

“Kiara, hey! Yeah, just working with the family business, you know how that goes. Um, sorry we didn’t really talk last night, JJ was -” 

“JJ was being annoying, I know.” Kiara interrupted, laughing. “Trust me, you don’t need to explain about him. He got you home safe though?” 

“Yeah, definitely. Just drove me home. It was nice.” Charlie smiled. 

“Is the list you were talking about real?” Kiara asked. “I hope not, I mean I knew JJ was bad in high school and he doesn’t really date, but he doesn’t seem to really brag about girls when we hang out.”

Charlie gave a slight grimace, nodding. “It’s real. It started as a joke, honestly, but then it turned out to be pretty helpful to know who to avoid. But yeah, JJ’s not at the top just for kicks.” 

“Oh my god, you’d think with all the lectures I gave him and Ted talks I sent him he would know better. I love the guy, but I know how he works.” Kiara shook her head and gave her an apologetic smile on his behalf.

Charlie shrugged. “I think he just flirts too much and doesn’t realize how quickly girls fall for it. I don’t know. Hey, I have to open, but I’ll see you around? We should catch up.” 

Kiara smiled. “Definitely. I’ll text you. Bye, Charlie,” she nodded as she left.  

Charlie returned to behind the counter, servicing a handful of families over the lunch rush until the customers died off around 2pm. The A/C hardly worked in the shop and all the spare fans were pointed toward the ice cream, refrigeration cranked up high, but Charlie was still a sweaty mess. After not having customers for a good half hour, she pulled off her apron and stood in the back, then peeled off her shirt for good measure, wearing her bikini top underneath. She sighed in relief as the cool air hit her skin, leaning against the wall. Her relief was short-lived and she jumped when she heard the bell of the door opening, peeking around the corner. “Fuck,” she muttered, grabbing her shirt again.

JJ, John B and Pope walked in and John B glanced around. “See, she’s not even here -” 

Charlie quickly pulled her shirt back over her head as she walked out, JJ doing a double take at the sight of her dressing. 

Pope elbowed John B to get him to shut up and smiled pleasantly at Charlie. “Hi Charlott - uh, Charlie, nice to see you again! I didn’t know you worked here.” 

She smiled at his fumbling of her name. “Hi Pope. Yeah, um, Walker Ice Creams, my family runs the business. I’m just working here while I’m home for the summer.” 

“Very cool.” Pope nodded, then stepped on JJ’s foot out of view. 

JJ yelped before Pope shot a glare at him. “Hi Charlie!” JJ greeted, a little too brightly. 

She quirked an eyebrow at his demeanor. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, are you okay?” He replied, trying to flirt and failing miserably. 

John B gave JJ a look and mouthed “what the fuck are you doing” to him before turning to Charlie. “Excuse this dumbass. Can I have a cone of mint chocolate chip please?” 

“And I’ll take a cup of the cookies and cream,” Pope chimed in, trying to cover for JJ’s weirdness. JJ scanned over all the flavors, watching as Charlie scooped for the two of them. 

“Do you want anything, Maybank?” She questioned, and it was like a light had flickered on in his brain at the sound of the nickname. 

“What’s your favorite flavor?” He asked. 

“The chocolate fudge brownie. I have a big sweet tooth though, so it might be too much,” she shrugged. 

“I’ll take a cone of that, please. I love chocolate. And, uh…” he paused, before feeling his wallet in his back pocket. “I’ll pay for all of us.” 

John B and Pope whipped their heads over in surprise. “It’s okay, JJ, we can pay for our own -” Pope offered before JJ cut him off. 

“Nope, I got it! My treat. You’re welcome,” JJ responded, talking through gritted teeth with the last words. 

Charlie rang them up after handing out their ice creams. “Thanks again for taking me home last night. I obviously hadn’t planned on being too drunk to drive, so...” 

JJ waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s no problem, I just wanted to be sure you were home safe. Are you coming to the next Boneyard party?” 

“You guys already have another one planned? When is it?” Charlie asked and JJ panicked, looking over at John B and Pope for assistance. 

“Uh, this Friday?” John B said questioningly. 

“Yeah, exactly, this Friday. You should come.” JJ grinned. 

“Yeah, maybe.” She responded, seeming uninterested. 

JJ frowned a little at her lack of enthusiasm. “Right, well, I’ll see you around then.” 

The three of them walked out and immediately started arguing out of Charlie’s earshot once they got outside. Charlie didn’t notice, cleaning up, til Pope came back in a moment later with a crumpled up napkin in his fist. “I think you dropped this,” he said as he set it on the counter then walked back out. Charlie waited for the boys to walk away before opening it, seeing “JJ - 252-630-8416” scrawled on it in Pope’s neat handwriting. She smiled to herself and shook her head, then pocketed the napkin.  

_______________________________________________________________________

Later that day, the Pogues were all out on the water, hanging out. John B and Pope were eagerly retelling the story of the ice cream shop to Kie, JJ interjecting multiple times with lies of different lines he had “flirted” with. “And after all that, he still chickened out and didn’t get her number.” John B finished the story dramatically. 

“Don’t worry, JJ, I saved your awkward conversation.” Pope claimed proudly, crossing his arms. 

JJ gave him a wary look. “What did you do?” 

Pope grinned. “When I told you guys I went back because I left my keys in there, I actually gave her a napkin with your number on it. You’re welcome.” 

JJ immediately responded by punching him in the arm, Pope groaning. “What the hell, Pope! Now I look desperate!” 

Kiara tilted her head, confused. “You know, I saw her earlier when she opened the shop. I have her number, you could have just asked for it.” 

JJ practically jumped out of his seat to grab Kiara’s phone. “You could have spared me all that! Holy hell, Kie, give it to me.” 

She frowned, holding her phone out of his reach. “No. You should only have it if she wants you to have it.” 

JJ sat down with a defeated sigh, knowing not to push her or he’d earn another lecture about feminism from Kiara. He slumped in his chair dramatically. “I’m never gonna talk to her at this rate.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

After her shift, Charlie went over to Grace’s house to wind down for the night. Grace greeted her at the door and immediately lifted her friend’s hair off her neck. 

Charlie ducked out of her grip, walking in the house. “Hey! What are you doing?” 

Grace smirked and crossed her arms. “Checking for hickies.” 

Charlie blushed slightly and groaned. “Grace, I swear to god, nothing happened!” 

Grace laughed. “Just being sure! I can’t blame him if something did, he’d be stupid not to make a move on you.” 

“It’s not like that,” Charlie shook her head.  “If he was ever vaguely interested, he would have said something at one of our Kappa mixers.” 

Grace poured them both a glass of wine and flopped onto the couch with her. “Would you have considered it? If he did make a move?” 

Charlie ran the tip of her finger around the wine glass, avoiding her friend’s inquisitive gaze. “Um. I don’t know. He’s probably bad news.”  

Grace nodded. “Exactly. I mean, he’s hot, but at what cost? Just find a Touron at a Boneyard party. It’s been more than enough time though, you need to get laid.” 

Charlie sputtered, choking on her sip of wine. “Grace!” 

Her friend just rolled her eyes and handed her a napkin. “Think about it. You broke it off with Rafe three whole months ago and you’ve only been on one date since. And you lied and told me you hooked up with that Beta just to get me off your back. It’s not like you don’t have any options either, you practically rejected half the soccer team -” 

Charlie blushed. “Okay, okay, Grace, I get your point. I just don’t know if I’m ready. I mean, the way we ended things wasn’t -” 

“No.” Grace interrupted. “You broke it off with him, it wasn’t a we decision, because he’s a lying, cheating bastard. You didn’t deserve any of that. What you do deserve is a good old-fashioned dick appointment. Just not with JJ Maybank.” 

Charlie laughed in spite of herself. “He and John B and Pope came into the ice cream shop today. They said there’s a party Friday, I guess we could go?” She offered halfheartedly, fishing the napkin with JJ’s number on it out of her pocket. 

“What is that?” Grace raised her eyebrows.

“Um, JJ’s number, Pope passed it on,” Charlie shrugged. “I’m probably not gonna do anything with it but I thought I’d keep it just in case.” 

Grace reached over and plucked it out of her hands, promptly ripping it into pieces despite Charlie’s feeble protest. “We went over this, I told you that boy’s no good for you. Will you let me do your makeup and pick out an outfit?”

“Why’d you have to - ugh, yeah, sure. Whatever makes you happy,” she teased. 

Grace clapped together her hands in excitement. “We’re gonna get you laaaiddd!” She sang, making Charlie blush again and whine in response. 

“I hate you.” 

Grace laughed. “No you don’t. You love me.” 

tags: @booksandshish​ @jiaraendgame​

[ghostiewriter]

3 and 113 for Jiara!

I hope this lives up to your expectations!! Sorry it took so long to get out😅☺️

Word Count: 1.4K

Prompts: “He’s been gone for quite a while.” // “Are you high?”

JJ Maybank was a man now.

Or, at least, that is what he told his cousin when he was eleven years old and adamant that he was old enough for weed (he really wasn’t but that didn’t stop the young Maybank). But his cousin was decent enough to cut him some slack, not to give him anything too strong. Then, as time went on and JJ’s weed consumption experiences expanded, it wasn’t long before the blond became one of the resident stoners. It was his legacy, I guess you could say. At a party wherever weed was, JJ was most likely not far behind. He didn’t mind the assumption, it wasn’t far off. But it was safe to say that JJ believed himself to have quite a high tolerance for weed intake, he was no amateur.

And it was exactly that thinking that brought him into this situation.

It was one of the usual keggers at the Boneyard, no real occasion other than some teenagers wanting an excuse to just let go and get wasted. Kiara usually considered herself a social butterfly, happy to chat and mingle and dance. But it was different now. Every person she spoke to wanted to know about the gold. They wanted to hear wild stories, wanted to hear about the night the Phantom went down and how she felt (not a memory she wished to remember). It was overwhelming, even if things were better now. It wasn’t as fun and easy as people made it to be. She still had nightmares about that night, she still got a little claustrophobic when she thought about the amount of close brushes with death they had, she still thought about the people they lost along the way. It wasn’t exactly her number one choice of party conversation topic.

That’s why she found herself off to the side, sitting on one of the logs as she happily sipped on her cheap beer and watched the party from a distance. She didn’t mind sitting alone, she liked the peace of it and it was an extra bonus that observing a bunch of wasted teens happened to be hilarious. However, her solitude was soon broken when she saw John B jogging over to her.

“Hey, you good?” She asked when she saw the small frown on his lips.

“Uh yeah,” He mumbled, glancing around before his attention focused back on Kie. “Have you seen JJ? I thought he would’ve been with you.”

“No, last I saw him, he was grabbing some blunts from the Twinkie or something.” She shrugged. “Why?”

“Nothing, I needed a beer pong partner and thought JJ would be a better shout than Pope.” He chuckled. “He’s been gone for quite a while. Do you think he’s alright?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kie assured him before sighing. “I’ll go look for him, make sure he isn’t doing anything stupid.” She added with a snort as she handed John B her half-drunk beer.

“You’re the best! When you find him, tell his ass to get out here and help me.” John B called out as he ran back towards the party after he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, lazy ass.” She murmured to herself with a smile.

She started with the usual places where one would find JJ Maybank at a party. Around large groups of tourons, around the kegs, even by the grove to make sure he hadn’t passed out when he took a quick piss by the trees. But he was nowhere to be found. So she tried her last prediction: the Chateau.

The second Kiara stepped in to the house, the strong smell of weed hit her. She frowned a little, sniffing the air to try and work out the underlying smell that was mixed in the air. Her eyes glanced around the dark room, trying to find the blond but she was only met with the usual messy living room and…a half-eaten brownie?

Suddenly the sounds of someone gagging echoed through the silent house and Kiara quickly began walking towards the source of the sound. As she pushed the bathroom door open, she was met with the sight of JJ Maybank hunched over the toilet, gagging and vomiting.

“Oh my god, Jay.” She quickly rushed to his side, a comforting hand on his back as he continued to heave for a couple of minutes. Eventually he raised his head, a lazy and weak smile on his face. He looked horrible, to be frank. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks flushed and his skin looking a bit pale. She then noticed his eyes, and despite the shit light in the bathroom, she was able to see they were a bit redder than usual.

“Are you…” She trailed off, slightly confused. “Are you high?”

“High as a kite, bab—” But before he could even finish his sentence, his head was back in the toilet again.

“Let it out, it’s okay.” She murmured, rubbing comforting circles on his back and helping push his hair back from forehead. She sat with him, letting the wave of nausea pass before she spoke up again. “How much have you had?”

“Too much.” He drawled out.

She frowned. This was JJ they were talking about. JJ who spent most of his days with a blunt or vape in his hand. JJ who was notorious for being the pogue stoner. And now, here he was, stoned out of his mind and vomiting the food they had earlier that day.

“What? Did you like smoke your year’s supply or something?”

“Not smoked.” He shook his head lightly. “Ate.”

It took Kiara a few moments to realise what he was saying, her mind flashing back to the half-eaten brownie on the table. “An edible did this?”

“They are fucking evil, Kie.” He groaned out, his face scrunching in disgust. “I feel like I can see my stomach. It looks horrible, Kie, all weird and swishy and bleh.”

She let out a small chuckle before quickly covering it with a cough when he sent a pointed glare at her. “Alright, c’mon, you should probably lie down.”

“No, I can’t move!” He whined as he half-heartedly hugged the toilet. Her nose scrunched as she attempted to pull him off the floor to stand up.

“Trust me, Jay.” And that was enough for him to listen to her. She helped him freshen up a bit, clean himself up after he had been vomiting in the toilet for who knows how long. After that, she managed to help him to his room where he oh-so gracefully flopped down onto the bed. She quickly headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before she returned his room, where the blond was pouting on the bed.

“I thought you left me.” He murmured.

“I’m right here.” She assured him as she placed the glass down on the nightstand. She also grabbed a bucket and placed it beside the bed, in case he needed to throw up again. However, just as she turned around, his hand shot out to tug her back.

“Nooo, don’t go!” He whined like a child.

She smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Jay. Just grabbing you an extra blanket.” She told him but he shook his head.

“No, I don’t want a blanket.” He huffed as he yanked her back as best as he could. “I want you.” Butterflies didn’t even begin to explain the feeling those words made her feel.

“Okay.” She whispered, watching as he shuffled on the bed so she could lie down next to him. The second she did, he wasted no time before wrapping himself like a koala on top of her, head on her chest as he murmured something about playing with his hair because it felt nice.

“Thank you.” He murmured, his breath tickling her skin. “For helping.”

“Always.” She replied, one hand gently running through his hair as the other squeezed his own. “Always here for you, Jay.”

“I love you, Kie.” He whispered to her. Kiara froze, her hand in his hair stilling as she stared down at the blond, waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. Thoughts raced through her mind on whether he meant it or not, if he was just stoned and confused but the tug deep down in her gut told her that he was telling the truth.

“I love you too, Jay.” She whispered back.

But he was already fast asleep.

[yourlocalauthor]

Anger Issues- Chapter 3

Pairing: JJ x Reader 

Summary: Still don’t have one

Word count: 1.2k+ 

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, child abuse, and sex

A/N: The ending is really fucking shitty I’m so sorry, also may or may not have been inspired a teensy bit by my ex so sorry. Also this is a flashback to that night so enjoy

Requests are open

You were very drunk, everyone around you was. And even though you were very intoxicated, you continued sipping from the warm cup of beer that was in your hands while laughing in Kiara’s lap. She was playing with your hair, braiding it and unbraiding it again and again. You let her as long as you were able to continue taking sips from the red solo cup sitting next to you, but everyone so often you’d tilt your head a little more than you wanted to and you’d hear her make a small remark. All of you were laughing at some dumbass joke John B let out, and honestly life couldn’t be better. This was the best summer of your life, and it was hard to believe in just two weeks it’d be over. Although over wasn’t exactly the right word. These friendships you had managed to start, wouldn’t suddenly go away overnight, or because of school, no that’d be dumb. You carefully set down your now empty cup, slowly trying to stand up but quickly having your ass be met with the ground again.

“I think I’m a little too drunk.”

“No really Y/N, we couldn’t tell.”

“Hey, that’s not fair Kie I was very very thirsty.”

“So what’s the excuse for the weed?”

“I really really need air?”

Everyone started laughing, including you. You knew you were totally going to regret your hangover in the morning, but things were going so good it almost didn’t matter.

“All jokes aside, I seriously have to get home. Not that I care, but my aunt is coming home in two days and if I don’t make some effort to make the house look better she’ll give me this sad depressed look for a couple days.”

You slowly started to stand up, only to start wobbling towards the ground again until you felt two very strong arms around you. You turned around only to be met with your favorite blond on the island.

“Aw my shining knight in muscle tees.”

“I’m very honored Y/N”

“You’re welcome, but may I ask why are your arms wrapped around me?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“No way, you’re as drunk as I am.”

“Obviously not because I can walk.”

“Ouch, that hurts.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

And before you could respond, JJ had managed to lift you up over his shoulder.

“Um excuse me?”

“Yes?”

“Absolutely not, I’m not letting you carry me like this.”

“Well princess how do you expect me to get you home, you can’t walk.”

“Piggybacks exist my sweet idiot.”

“Right.”

“Maybe you’re drunker than you think.”

“Maybe you, are drunker than you think.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Oops.”

You both bursted out into laughter as he sat you down, and then proceeded to put you on his back.

“Careful JJ, don’t want to drop her she’ll probably be mad at you for the rest of the week”

“Wow John B, thank you so much.”

“No problem Y/N”

“Just be careful you too, watch out for cars.”

“We don’t live that far from here Kie, we’ll be fine.”

“Bye”

You said as you waved back towards your friends around the campfire, before JJ started walking making some stupid joke causing the both of you to burst into laughter. The walk home was fun, you kept pointing out shooting stars and then JJ would tell you they were in fact planes. JJ would say something funny, and the two of you would both laugh very hard causing him to stumble a little. It felt so nice to be alone with him. You knew you needed to get over this silly little crush you had, but sometimes you’d wonder what would happen if you told him how you felt. But then you’d remind yourself that you weren’t his type, and how no one wants to be with a girl who’s always angry. You’d remind yourself of your shitty attitude, and how shitty of a girlfriend you’d be.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N.”

You were pulled out of your head, readjusting your grip around JJ.

“Yes, sorry.”

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Butterflies.

“Oh, nothing just thinking about how good brownies would be right now.”

“You know my cousin-”

“Not those brownies, actual ones like fudgy chocolate deliciousness”

“That sentence didn’t make any sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make any sense.”

“Very middle school of you.”

“Thank you, I try my hardest.”

You watched him shake his, which only made you laugh and only seconds later so did he.

“How far are we? I'm getting tired.”

“I don’t know.”

“We better not be lost.”

“We’re not lost, I’ll get you home soon.”

Eventually you were both able to drag your intoxicated asses to your house, you very drunk let stuck the key in missing a couple times but you made it in. JJ walked in after you making a remark about the pink door like he always did, causing you to tell him to apologize to it just like you always did.

“Alright, alright. I am very sorry ugly pink door.”

“Rude.”

“Can’t be rude if it’s true.”

“That is very not true.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, like I can say you suck at giving piggyback rides but that would be rude.”

“You know, I did not just walk for two miles with you on my back for this.”

“And I thank you for that.”

“Very appreciative.”

“Oh how could one ever repay the great JJ Maybank.”

And suddenly his lips were on yours, hands behind your head as you both began stumbling around. You wrapped one of your arms around, using the other to use the wall to guide you to your room. The both of you managed to stumble into your room and onto the bed. JJ tasted like weed, beer, and mangos. In general he just tasted like a party. You stuck your fingers into his hair, tangling them. For the whole summer, this was all you wanted. And as he began kissing down your neck, you couldn’t believe it. You were in such bliss, and you didn’t want it to go away, until you felt him tugging at your shirt, slowly pulling it up. Everything you had thought about earlier had flooded back, and you couldn’t let this happen.

“Wait, wait stop.”

And it did. He stopped everything, his hands were gone from your body, and now he was looking you dead in the eyes and once again you had those stupid butterflies you always did when he looked at you.

“Is uh, everything okay? I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no you’re fine, great actually but we can’t do this.”

“What? Do you mean like right now?

“No, I mean like ever.”

“You’re kidding right? Tell me you’re joking”

“What that I don’t want to fuck you right now? I’m pretty sure I know that feeling even when I’m drunk.”

“No, not that I don’t care if you don’t want to fuck me or not. But you’re going to tell me you didn’t feel anything, because I did. I mean I know you were kissing back Y/N, I know you felt something.”

“JJ…”

“Don’t JJ me.”

“I’m sorry, it was… it was just an instinct.”

You could see the hurt in eyes, and you instantly regretted it. You regretted everything, and you went to caress his face but he quickly stood up and he was gone. Not a single word, stood up and left your room. You heard the front door slam, and all you could do was sit there.

@spilledtee @teamnick @sexualparkour @hmspxgue @yeehaw87 @judayyyw @justawilddreamerchild @jjsbaebae @dangerouswhispersblog​ @jj-maybabe​ @sortagaysortahigh @softstarkey

[thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars]

Coming Home Part Two

I am so sorry it took me so long to get this second part up. I have just been crazy busy because I finish school in a few days. I might be a little inconsistent with posting this series for the next week but hopefully I’ll be able to get something up every other day. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) and thank you for reading I hope you enjoy!!💖

Warnings: For this part there are none. Most parts will only go as far as the show does, however, warnings but in future parts there will be sexual assault and trauma.

JJ x Reader

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

That last night at the fireside was the best send off you could have asked for. Big John, Hayward, and your parents even joined the four of you after they had gotten off work. You all ate the most amazing food. Your mom had brought the most juicy and sweet watermelon and her notorious brownies, they were a family recipe and it took a little over 10 minutes for everyone to get through a whole batch because they were just that good. Hayward brought his famous steak kabobs and Big John grilled corn on a the cob and fish that you and the boys had caught earlier that day. As it started to get dark and all of the talking and stories died down you could practically feel your heart shatter and your smile fade from your face because you knew it would be time to go home soon and you were leaving first thing tomorrow morning. The parents started to pack up and John B and Pope had been tasked with putting the fire out. You didn’t move. You realized this was your last few moments with your best friends and you sank to the ground, out of the chair you had been sitting in and started balling. JJ had been putting some food into the fridge for Big John but when he walked out the back door to see you curled up into yourself crying he ran over to you. As he got to were you chair was he slowed his pace. He walked up behind you and squatted next you, he rubbed your shoulder and said

“Hey, hey, it’s okay lift your head up.”

You shook your head and continued to sob into your lap. Now he shifted so he was in front of you. His soothing smile concealed the pain of losing you that hid behind his eyes.

“y/n, I can’t have you crying the last time I see you. What kind of goodb-... I mean see you later would that be?”

Now you lifted your head up and wiped the tears from under your eyes.

“A sucky one.” you sniffled

“Darn right it would be a sucky one so how about you stand up and we can take a walk. Let’s see if I can put a smile back on your face, huh?”

You craned your neck to watch him as he stood up and dusted his hands off before he extended a hand to help you up. “Well J looks like I’ve taught you a few things as far as comforting people goes” you said as he pulled you to your feet.

“I only learn from the best.”

He started to lead you toward the doc and the HMS Pogue but you grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself and JB and Pope? It’s been my job to look after the three of you and I just I- I wanna know you guys will be safe when I’m gone”

The corners of JJ’s mouth twitched as he swallowed a sob. Blinking away a tear he said, “Of course I’ll protect them. I’ll do anything and anything for them, not that I wouldn’t all ready but I’ll make sure to keep everyone safe for you while you’re gone. This isn’t goodbye y/n, you will be back to take care of us... I just know it.”

“Thank you JJ. It means the world to me, yo- you guys mean the world to me.”

“I know. Let’s go say see ya later to the Pogue. What do you think?”

You smiled and pushed your hair behind your ear as you nodded your head. The two of you walked down across the yard to the dock and when you reached the Pogue JJ climbed in and extended his hand to you.

You jumped into the boat and sighed. “See you later old girl. I’ll miss you!” You bent down and kissed the cold metal of the boat.

JJ was sitting on the port side of the boat, his arms crossed over his chest smiling at you. Taking in every ounce of these last few moments with you. Admiring the way the moonlight glistened off your long hair wavy hair and illuminated the freckles on your face. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed John B and Pope coming down to meet you guys and stood up. “Hey, y/n I want you to have this.” He scooped up your hands and dropped something into your hand. It was something you had seen many times. A handmade bracelet, three beads of sea glass were strung together and woven into this leather bracelet. JJ made this when you guys were eight and declared it his lucky bracelet and he hasn’t taken it off since.

“I can’t take this JJ. I mean it’s your good luck charm.”

“Yes you can and will take it. You’ll need the luck up in Rhode Island more than I will here. Besides I’ve got these losers to bring me luck.” He motioned to John B and Pope who had just reached the Pogue. You smiled up at your best friends as they clambered into the boat and joined you two.

“So what did we miss?” John B asked.

“Just sayin my farewell to the Pogue.” You responded.

“Ahhh. It won’t be the same without you here y/n.” Pope said as he stepped in to hug you.

“Awwe Pope. I know... nothing is going to be the same. It sucks.” You pulled away from him.”I’m going to miss you guys so much, you have no idea.”

“Oh believe me we have an idea. And how am I supposed to stay agile without things flying at my head from time to time.”

You chuckled at the look on John B’s face. His nose scrunched and smile spread wide. You’d seen that same smile a million times and quite frankly you don’t understand how you could have taken it for granted. Only just realizing how much you had taken for granted, you stood there saying goodbye to this boy who is essentially your brother. “I’m sure I can get these two to chuck a few things your way from time to time.” You chuckled. “I’m going to miss you Bookie. You’re like my brother. I’ve literally never lived without you by my side annoying the hell out of me 24/7. Without that I’ll always feel like I’ve lost my keys.” He knew what you meant by that. He knew that was your way of saying goodbye without saying it. He knew the words were too painful to say out right.

You and John B exchanged a look that said everything you needed it too as your mom called from the distance “y/n! It’s time to go, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Okay coming, give us two minutes.” You yelled back towards the Chateau.

“I love you guys more than any of you will ever know. It literally kills me to leave you g-guys.” You began to cry as the boys reached in for a hug.

“We love you too Bug.” Pope said as you all pulled away from the group hug. “And as we’ve been saying all day, you’ll find your way back here and then you can come home to us and live your best Pogue life again.” With that you all started to make your way out of the Pogue. But JJ grabbed your hand before you could climb out. He put his hands on your shoulders looked into your eyes and pulled you in for a hug. This hug was very different than any one he’s ever given you before, it was like he was trying to tell you something. He pulled you in so close and so tight that you could feel your heartbeat sync up with his. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him for what felt like an eternity.

@tangledinsparkles

[userlarri]

stealing @jakeperalta‘s idea of putting all of the tag games friends have shared into one post - ella, you’re a genius!! if anyone feels like doing any of these, pretend i tagged you 💕 

tagged by @cheddarholt  💖

honey and lemon or milk and sugar // musicals or plays // lemonade or iced tea // strawberries or raspberries // winter or summer // beaches or forests // diners or cafés // unicorns or dragons // gemstones or crystals // hummingbirds or owls // fireworks or sparklers // brunch or happy hour // sweet or sour // Rome or Amsterdam // classic or modern art // sushi or ramen // sun or moon // polka dots or stripes // macarons or croissants // glitter or matte // degas or seurat // aquariums or planetariums // road trip or camping trip // colouring books or water color // fairy lights or candles

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tagged by @charmainediyoza  💖

Rules: put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that come up, then tag 10 others to do the same! (disclosure - i shuffled my liked songs on spotify)

let me get me / selena gomez

tequila makes her clothes fall off / joe nichols

time after time / quietdrive

don’t let me be the last to know / britney spears

home / sundy best

it’s nice to have a friend / taylor swift

freak / little mix

this kiss / faith hill

a.d.i.d.a.s. / little mix

you don’t do it for me any more / demi lovato

let me just say, this list is not a very good representation of my taste lol

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tagged by @smilecapsules  💖 

top seven comfort movies

grease

miss congeniality

any disney tbh... but if i can only have one, mary poppins

anastasia

now and then

the princess diaries

10 things i hate about you

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tagged by @jacobperaltaz  💖

RULES ⇥ TURN YOUR URL INTO SONG TITLES (because we all need a little more music in our lives) 🎵🎧

enchanted / taylor swift

i do / cardi b ft. sza

gravity / john mayer

have i told you lately / van morrison

temproary fix / one direction

your love / the outfield

no judgement / niall horan (stream this album!! my mans doesn’t miss!!)

island in the sun / weezer

new year’s day / taylor swift

everywhere / michelle branch

somebody to love / queen

really enjoyed this one, too!! THIS is better view of my music taste, but still there’s so much more

---

tagged by @smilecapsules💖

Rules: name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things and then tag 10 people

remus lupin, harry potter

amy santiago, brooklyn 99

ben wyatt, parks and rec

erin hannon, the office

mindy lahiri, the mindy project

titus andromedon, unbreakable kimmy schmidt

peter parker/spiderman, marvel

james aubrey, bones

janet, the good place

chandler bing, friends

what can i say - your girl loves some sitcoms

---

tagged by @greatbigstorm 💖

🌿 favourite comfort food: chicken and dumplings

🌼 favourite alcohol (or hot drink!): margaritas! but also hot chocolate

🌷 favourite relaxing activity: giffing

🌸 favourite fluffy/feel-good fic: none come to mind. haven’t read fic in a minute

🌻 favourite calming scent: anything vanilla tbh

🌺 favourite relaxing (or uplifting) song: have i told you lately by van morrison

🌵 favourite white noise: thunderstormss

🍄 favourite book to get lost in: the outsiders by s.e. hinton

💐 favourite chill out tv show: parks and rec or friends

🌹 the best advice you’ve ever had: don’t let the bastards get you down

---

tagged by @smilecapsules  💖

top 3 ships? ugh..... ben x leslie, jake x amy, ron x hermione

last song? no judgment / niall horan

last movie? the princess diaries

food i’m craving? oh man, i’d kill for some warm cheesecake brownies right now....i gotta make some this weekend

---

tagged by @greatbigstorm 💖 

Bold what applies to you

♡ appearance ♡ i am over 5’5 // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing over tight clothing // i have one or more piercings// i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball caps backwards

♡ hobbies and interests ♡ i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with my friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand (in the pool? lol)

♡ relationships ♡ i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have hooked up with my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have had a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

♡ aesthetics ♡ i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms //i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

♡ miscellaneous ♡ i can fall asleep in moving vehicles // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote(s) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a superhero movie // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least 3 dogs

[solesurvivorkat]

Get to Know Me!/About Me/The Self Care Tag Game

Tagged by @the-dubstep-strawberry and @ja-crispea, thank you guys!  <3  :-)

(This is long, so I put it under a tag)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who were you named after?: My maternal aunt (Kathy), middle name from my other maternal aunt.

Last time you cried?: (snorts) ...Okay... there’s this book that my toddler son has, called ‘Love You Forever’ - and the damn thing always makes me cry and I HATE it, lol. It’s basically a mom that watches her son grow up from a baby to an adult, and she rocks him to sleep his whole life saying, “ "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living My baby you'll be." “. ...IT’S A MENACE. He asked me to read it to him the other day & I couldn’t say no, so my husband was kind of sympathetically laughing at me (not in a mean way) b/c I was definitely crying by the end. IT’S EVIL. 

Do you like your handwriting? Ehhh.... sometimes? When I CONCENTRATE on it, it’s fine. When I scribble something out in a hurry, I don’t love it so much (though it’s still a million more times legible than my husband’s ‘chicken-scratch’ handwriting, LOL).

What is your favorite lunch meat?: Roast beef. I don’t buy it often b/c it’s usually expensive, but a good roast beef deli meet? Oof.

Longest relationship?: The one I’m in w/ my husband. We’ve been together since 2008, married in 2011 (for those who hate math like me {lol}, that’s together for 12 years in August, married for 9 years in December).

Do you still have your tonsils? Yes.

What is your favorite kind of cereal?: Don’t really have a favorite, but I like Lucky Charms (I know, I’m a stereotype, LOL), Captain Crunch, one of the Post ones w/ cranberries in it (forget what it’s called), Honey Nut Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, Peanut Butter Crunch, and a bunch of others.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?: Right now my sneakers are the slip-on kind (though I really need to buy new ones sometime), but I have to untie my boots when I wear them b/c they have roller skate laces in them and they stay put (don’t move around a lot, which is what they’re supposed to do), so if I didn’t untie them I’d never be able to get them on/off, lol.

Do you think you’re strong willed?: Oh my GOD, yes. ...Almost to a fault, lol.  *XD

Favorite Ice Cream?: Don’t really have a favorite, but I tend to go for either Oreo, Cookie Dough, or chocolate & peanut butter.

What is the first thing you notice about a person?: Usually their eyes. I think I mention eyes a lot in my writing (again, almost to a fault, lol), but it’s b/c eyes are so expressive. ‘Eyes are the window to the soul’, as they say.

Football or baseball?: Neither - I’m really not a sports person. But if I HAD to choose one, I’d say baseball (Red Sox!).

Favorite donut?: Chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles (...yes, I like the sprinkles on it, I ‘donut’ know why. HA!!! .....I’ll show myself out. LOL)

Last thing you ate?: Chocolate-frosted Pop-Tarts, & currently, gradually drinking water flavored w/ store-brand caffeinated fruity drink mix (need this at work to keep me going b/c I don’t like coffee).

What are you listening to?: Nothing right now - quiet at work (I love when it’s peaceful at work... I don’t really get peace at home often, lol)

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?: Cerulean. ...Shut up, I like that color. (lol)

What is your favorite smell?: Don’t have one favorite... I love the smell of cookies/brownies baking, woodsmoke, cedar, Old Spice (my husband wears it, and yes - my grandfather actually DID wear it, lol!), freshly mowed lawn, mulch (I know that might sound weird, but it smells nice to me - earthy!), that smell that happens before it’s about to start raining (...I’m weird, I know lol)

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?: Probably my husband... (thinks) ...well technically it was my boss, actually. He calls us every morning when we go in to work just to check-in (not in a condescending way, just to make sure we’re doing okay & to let us know if anything’s new).

Hair color?: Medium/honey blonde. (I’m not allowed to color it b/c of work, but I would love to try a funky color again, like pink or purple... or maybe rainbow! <3 )

Eye color?: Blue on the outside/edge, brownish-green on the inside/around the pupil (I have ‘central heterochromia’ - look it up, I’ve mentioned it on my blog before, lol) 

Favorite food to eat?: Don’t have one favorite, but I tend to go for pizza, Italian, or American food 

Scary movies or happy ending?: Happy ending. I know it’s lame of me, but if a movie doesn’t end happy it bother me.  

Last movie you watched in a theater?: I... honestly don’t remember, lol. I think it was ‘Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker’.

What color shirt are you wearing?: It’s a purple-y, mulberry kind of color.

Favorite holiday?: Christmas, hands down. Halloween is a close second. 

Beer or wine?: Neither (don’t like the taste - you’ll usually find me drinking Diet Pepsi, lol. I know, I’m a dork.)

Night owl or morning person?: Used to be a morning person when I was younger, but now I’m kind of a mid-day/twilight kind of person (I usually veg at night, lol).

Favorite day of the week?: Probably Friday or Saturday

Favorite animal?: LOVE Red Pandas, they’re so cute! I would totally get one for a pet if I could. I would also love a Husky/Shiba Inu/Klee Kai (dog), but I don’t have the time to devote to one right now, unfortunately.  :-(

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rules: answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you’d like to know better!

Nickname: Kat, Sprocket, Kit-Kat

Zodiac: Aries

Height: 5′5″ (technically a hair under, but it’s 1/4″ or less so I round it up lol)

House: Hmm... either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, I think

Last thing I Googled: (thinks) Ugh, I just did something this morning, too... I totally forget what, though.  x__x*

Song in my head: Nothing, for now.

Followers and following: Currently followed by 259 awesome people, for which I am VERY grateful.  <3  Following 80 people.  (...I am NOT trying to insult people if I don’t follow you - I swear it’s nothing personal, I just don’t have time to catch up on the people that I’m following now.)

Amount of sleep: Usually anywhere between 6-8 hours

Lucky number: 4, 7, 13 (yup lol)

Dream job: Hmm... honestly not sure. As long as I get a paycheck & don’t hate/dislike my job, I’m usually pretty happy, lol.

Wearing: Slide-on sneakers, socks, black capri leggings, short-sleeved shirt, hair braided & clipped up

Fave songs: Don’t have a lot, though I always like ‘The Sound of Silence’ covered by Disturbed. I know there’s a bunch more that I like, but none are hugely standing out to me right now.

Instruments: Played the clarinet for a year in 5th grade, played the acoustic guitar in the 12th grade, don’t currently play any.

Random fact: One of my ancestors signed the Declaration of Independence, and there’s a town in NH named after him that I’ve never gotten to visit (heard that one before? Well I only have so many facts about me, lol)

Favorite Authors: Don’t really have one

Fave animal sounds: My chinchilla makes some cute noises, lol. I like hearing cats meow too, even if I’m more of a dog person. Ever hear a Husky ‘talk’? Hilarious. I love hearing guinea pigs ‘purr’ too, so cute!

Aesthetic: Woods, rustic, ‘comfy’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Favorite comfort food: Chocolate (shocker, I know), particularly Lindt brand

Favorite drink: Diet Pepsi

Favorite relaxing activity: Relaxing on my couch, surfing the ‘net

Favorite fluffy/feel good fic: 

Favorite calming scent: fresh laundry, the ocean, woodsmoke, mulch (I know, I know, mentioned above)

Favorite white noise: Maybe the sound of ocean waves or birds chirping in the woods

Favorite relaxing (or uplifting) song: ...Can’t think of one off the top of my head.

Favorite book to get lost in: Reading friends fanfics

Favorite TV show to chill-out: Don’t usually watch a lot of TV (usually put something on to entertain my toddler)... maybe Kitchen Nightmares, or anything w/ Gordon Ramsey - not that I really like cooking shows, I just find him fun to watch, lol. (Or Bar Rescue - John Taffer is fun to watch too lol)

The best advice you’ve ever had: Hmm... I guess just variations on being true to yourself. The people that matter the most will love you no matter what and will always be in your corner, even when you’re having a bad day. Don’t try to impress people that aren’t worth your time/don’t truly care about you - it’s not worth your time and energy. Find and be with people that make you happy, that accept you for who you truly are. Be the best person you can be, but also remember that everyone has ‘off’/bad days. You’re not perfect, you’re not meant to be perfect. Do what makes YOU happy (...assuming it doesn’t hurt anyone else, obviously, lol).

Tagging whoever would like to be tagged in!

[ivory-haired-queens-blog]

So, as season 6 ends, these are my top ten favorite characters after the season. This is based purely on how I personally feel about the characters, so yeah.

(By the way this only includes people who were ALIVE at some point during this season. Sorry Monty)

10 - Madi

While Madi May have been an interesting and good addition to season 5, I feel like the conflict with shadeheda had been rushed into the writing for one reason or another. I feel as is you can’t even consider it a B plot line, it’s more of like a D or an E plot line due to its irrelevance.

Still, Lola Flannery’s performance this season is enough to give her character the spot of number ten. She played a convincing bad guy and I give her major props.

9 - Diyoza

Ah, poor Diyoza. All she wanted was a life for her unborn child, only to be fucked over by the Anomaly.

The major point of her character this season was to show how Octavia is learning from her past, and how she’s changing.

I think that the reason Diyoza doesn’t place higher on my list is because she was “killed off” so early in the season, but I have a feeling we haven’t quite seen the last of her.

8 - Jackson

A strange choice? Yes. A good one? Also yes.

In a show as wild as the 100, the one thing you wouldn’t expect is for things to stay the same. However, throughout the entirety of the show’s run, Jackson has been a silent but unchanging character. He cares about others deeply, and is all around just a good, simple side character over all.

7 - Kane

Kane, the moral compass.

Kane has been a pretty solid character throughout the show’s run, and I’m glad the writers respected his actual character’s morals.

Though I’m sad to see Henry Ian Cusick go, I feel as though if they’d kept Kane in his new body it would be throwing away everything about Kane’s character from the last seasons. Though I found him whiny in the last season, his character really stayed true until the very end.

6 - Joesephine.

This one is a Hot Take™

Just because a character is a Villain doesn’t mean you can’t like them.

Joespehine was WRITTEN to be likeable! That’s the POINT! She’s genuinely funny, charming, and a bit of a sociopath! What’s not to love? Sure, she tries to kill Clarke and everything...but that’s not important.

She kinda reminds me of the Joker, a villain that everyone LOVED. Though she’s a bad person, she still ranks #6 of my list.

5 - Gabriel

Okay first off...Chuku Modu is FINE.

Secondly, his character is so unique yet realistic. Eventually the guilt of killing hundreds of people to live forever would weigh on the primes, but it didn’t take long for Gabriel to feel guilty. He knew what the primes were doing was wrong, so he stood up against it.

Just overall a good guy. Not much else to say about him lol.

4 - Bellamy Blake

Though Bellamy may have ranked #1 in previous seasons, this season wasn’t about him in the slightest. In fact, it was more about his relationships with Clarke and Octavia than it was about HIM.

Still, he’s still likeable. And he’s a main player, if not THE main player in saving Clarke. Plus Bob Morley always equals brownie points. Always.

3 - Clarke Griffin

The queen of the show herself. This season it was entirely about her, and her face off with Josephine.

Coming in at a strong number three, Clarke is a badass bisexual goddess. The only reason she’s a three and not a one is A) Other characters really shone this season and B) I think we got too much of her. Some scenes (especially ones with Josephine) felt unnessicary and like they were trying to show her off as much as possible. Other than that, Eliza Taylor provides a strong variety in her acting skills with switching from being Josephine to being Clarke.

2 - John Murphey

From the opening episode, I had a feeling this was gonna be his season. I forget which scene exactly, but in the pilot of this season they had him in a scene that could have been anyone else, but they made it a Murphey scene. And then in the second episode, saving Clarke from herself and then saving his friends? This really was Murphey’s season.

Him fooling the primes/believers in the last few episodes was very true to his character, and seeing him continue to flip-flop between being a good guy and a bad guy is always fun.

And that leaves my number one character of season six...

1 - Octavia Blake.

I’ve been the biggest O Stan since I first watched the show. Marie Avgeropoulos is a stunning woman and that’s not a negative in any way.

I loved her switch to evil is season five, and I knew a redemption arc was coming this season. I loved seeing her question her morals when she was deciding the fate of the human race down in the bunker, and how she did the only thing that would keep her people alive. But then, and I’m guessing from the guilt, she found herself being defined by the wrongs she’s done.

This season was her saying “No, I am still Octavia Blake. I am come Skaikru, come Trigeda, come WONKRU, NOT Bloodrena.”

And I LOVE that for her.

[caveartfair]

What Andy Warhol Really Ate

Image courtesy of Burger King.

Andy Warhol was known to eat hamburgers, but they weren’t exactly his go-to meal. In his 1975 book The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (From A to B & Back Again), the Pop art pioneer wrote that he was not too keen on protein.

“I’ll buy a huge piece of meat, cook it up for dinner, and then right before it’s done I’ll break down and have what I wanted for dinner in the first place—bread and jam,” the artist wrote. “I’m only kidding myself when I go through the motions of cooking protein: all I ever really want is sugar.…People expect you to eat protein and you do so they won’t talk.”

But after watching the latest Burger King commercial, which premiered during Super Bowl LIII and declared in its slogan to “#EatLikeAndy,” you wouldn’t guess that the artist had tepid feelings toward meat. It features a clip from 1982 by Danish filmmaker Jørgen Leth in which Warhol slowly unwraps a Burger King delicacy, then sinks his teeth into it. As many outlets reported following the ad spot, Warhol actually preferred McDonald’s—but for its design, not the food. According to Warhol’s diaries and accounts from his friends and employees, he was not a die-hard burger fan. Instead, for much of his life, Warhol was known to eat very little, indulge in decadent desserts, and in his final years, avoid meat per doctor’s orders.

Campbell's Soup I: Vegetable II.48, 1968. Andy Warhol Hamilton-Selway Fine Art

Campbell's Soup I (Pepper Pot), 1968. Andy Warhol Collectors Contemporary

Warhol typically started his day (which often began in the early afternoon) with a bowl of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes or, later, peppermint tea and a toasted English muffin with marmalade. Unsurprisingly, he also frequently consumed Campbell’s soup, the subject of some of his best-known paintings. In the 2015 BBC Four documentary A Day in the Life of Andy Warhol, BBC correspondent Stephen Smith explained that Warhol’s love for the soup went beyond the aesthetics of the can; he saw it as “the food of life,” Smith said, “a square meal you could depend on.” And Warhol did, regularly.

He enjoyed fruits, too, like bananas (also unsurprising) and cherries. He once recalled eating so many cherries that he had to hide the bowl of pits from his sight. “That’s the hard part of overdosing on cherries—you have all the pits to tell you exactly how many you ate. Not more or less. Exactly,” he wrote. “One-seed fruits really bother me for that reason. That’s why I’d always rather eat raisins than prunes. Prune pits are even more imposing than cherry pits.”

Warhol also had an insatiable sweet tooth. “When I was a child I never had a fantasy about having a maid, what I had a fantasy about having was candy,” he wrote in The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. “As I matured that fantasy translated itself into ‘make money to have candy,’ because as you get older, of course, you get more realistic.”

RARE NEAR MINT, "Andy Warhol", Velvet Underground & Nico, UN-PEELED Banana Sticker Cover, Album LP, RARE NEAR MINT CONDITION, 1967. Andy Warhol VINCE fine arts/ephemera

NEAR MINT- "Velvet Underground & Nico", 1967, "PEELED" Torso/Black Banner Sticker, USA Mono Copy, MUSEUM QUALITY, RARE, 1967. Andy Warhol and Lou Reed VINCE fine arts/ephemera

In the book, Warhol also described his recipe for “cake”: “You take some chocolate…and you take two pieces of bread…and you put the candy in the middle and you make a sandwich of it. And that would be cake.” In the 1960s, he frequented the Upper East Side restaurant Serendipity for its speciality, a glass of frozen hot chocolate, which he indulged in at lunchtime.

Other days, however, Warhol skipped lunch entirely. Famously image-obsessed and known for having a daily speed habit, he would take the amphetamine Obetrol (which was branded as a diet pill) and regularly worried about his weight fluctuations in his diaries. In order to stay thin while eating out at restaurants constantly, he developed a strategy for maintaining his figure, which he called “the Andy Warhol New York City diet.”

“When I order in a restaurant, I order everything that I don’t want, so I have a lot to play around with while everyone else eats,” he wrote in The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. “Then, no matter how chic the restaurant is, I insist that the waiter wrap the entire plate up like a to-go order, and after we leave the restaurant I find a little corner outside in the street to leave the plate in, because there are so many people in New York who live in the streets.…So I lose weight and stay trim, and I think that maybe one of those people will find a Grenouille dinner on the window ledge.”

Torte a La Dobosch (from Wild Raspberries) (see Feldman & Schellmann IV.130.A), 1959. Andy Warhol Forum Auctions

Ice Cream Cone, 1959. Andy Warhol Susan Sheehan Gallery

While working, Warhol often ordered in from the health food store Brownies on East 16th Street near Union Square, when the Factory was there in the late 1960s and ’70s. (He wrote in his diaries in 1980 that he once sent singer Carly Simon to the store to pick up “health sandwiches.”) When Warhol moved the Factory to East 33rd Street in 1984, he wrote: “I’ll miss ordering out from Brownies, all the carrot juices and stuff. What’re we going to do for food in this new neighborhood? I’ve only seen greasy coffee shops.”

Beginning in the late 1960s, Warhol’s health declined due to the serious gunshot wound he suffered from Valerie Solanas in 1968, but also because of an unhealthy gallbladder—an affliction he inherited from his father. He was told he needed the organ removed in the ’70s, but due to his fear of death and hospitals, particularly following the shooting, he pushed it off until 1987. By the mid-1970s, Warhol was taking pills for his gallbladder before each meal, and he was also given diet advice from his doctors.

Dietician Amy Shapiro notes that people experiencing gallbladder issues are advised to avoid foods high in fat, and should instead seek out “low-fat, easily digestible foods such as simple carbohydrates,” as the gallbladder produces the bile the body needs for digestion. That Warhol was content to eat jam sandwiches for dinner makes sense, she said, because such foods will “more likely than not prevent a flare up.” Fat cuts of meat, she added, could cause the gallbladder to become inflamed.

Life Savers, 1985. Andy Warhol Collectors Contemporary

But Warhol often ignored his doctor’s advice. In April 1980, he wrote: “I’m eating the nuts and chocolate and all the things that I’m not supposed to eat because of my gallbladder, because I think the gallbladder pills are helping so that I can eat them. But I’m getting fat so I’ll have to stop.” And years later, in September 1984, he recalled eating chicken for lunch with his friend Benjamin Liu outside of the Whitney. “And a woman came by and saw me eating chicken and said ‘That’s a no-no,’ and she was right,” he wrote. “I’m not supposed to eat meat. But I’m trying to be more normal.”

Warhol reached a breaking point one evening in February 1987, after dinner with friends at the Japanese restaurant Nippon. He felt sharp pain and went home; he guessed it was “a gallbladder attack” and threw away his junk food. Two weeks later, he was admitted at New York Hospital to have his gallbladder removed, and died shortly after. The surgeon found that his gallbladder was full of gangrene, his body had never fully recovered from being shot, he was dehydrated, and had eaten very little in the month prior, as Dr. John A. Ryan told the New York Times in 2017.

So while these anecdotes only offer a few glimpses into Warhol’s diet, it’s safe to say that the slogan “#EatLikeAndy” certainly comes with more baggage than Burger King’s ads let on. And though it probably wouldn’t be wise to emulate these eating habits, they serve to remind us that the endlessly influential and legendary artist was only human.

from Artsy News

[blamebrampton]

Eurovision 2018 final

And now, 12 hours after the rest of the world, and startlingly unspoiled, I hit the finals! I’ve not been recapping the touristy bits in the ‘postcards’, but if you’re thinking about visiting Lisbon, or Portugal in general, get to it; it’s utterly gorgeous. I’m hoping for somewhere in the top 10 for Jess, and I wouldn’t mind seeing Denmark win. They won’t. It’ll be someone awful, I just know it.

We open with fado music and it is pretty bloody splendid: melodic twanging steel strings and a heart-rending woman’s voice singing a song that is almost certainly of woe but resilience (my Portuguese is terrible). There are no unattractive people in this broadcast, it should be mentioned. Yet another reason to visit!

Another hot fado female vocalist, this time with drummers. She sounds more political, but again, I have no idea. I do know that Portugal is a country that has an amazing tradition of vocalists and narrative music, and I think we are seeing it shown well tonight. I like this a lot better than the usual blather from presenters. Though I like the women, they are admirably quick at moving things along.

And now some local DJs. Look, it was never going to stay glorious. Flags go past. There are many. We are welcomed to the grand final and the crowd goes wild. Hello contestants, I’m thrilled you get a moment in the sun before the horror of the contest descends. They are all smiling and lovely and I hope they all go on to have happy lives. Denmark are actually amusing! Bless their hairy hipster hearts!

You know, I can honestly say that everyone I’ve heard in this final can actually sing and on that basis alone, 2018 is already a good year.

The presenters are back. NCIS is dressed like a Goth prom queen, Blondie is wearing a beaded shower curtain, Saintly is cosplaying a tall Kylie Minogue (I loathe the fact I need to specify Kylies these days) and Little One has come dressed as an entrant from Greece. I actually know all their names now, but they’re longer, so it’s nicknames for me, I’m afraid.

I’m not going to repeat performance notes from the semi finals, but if you’ve missed every other piece of Eurovision commentary, a. Well done! b. What the hell are you doing here? c. I’ll let you know if anything new happens.

Ukraine, Melovin, Under the Ladder. Now I’m not focusing on the madness of the staging, I can mention that he and his backing singers are selling the hell out of this one. I like it a lot better the second time around, and the vocals are tight. It’s still a totally nuts Dracula moment, but if it wins I will not be at all upset.

Spain, Amaia y Alfred, Tu Cancion. Arena full of people holding up their lit phones. Young people singing to each other from opposite sides of the stage. It’s all very sweet. Now they are holding hands. Now they are hugging. Keep it nice, kids, you’ve got two minutes to go. They are lovely, but so wholesome that I feel listening to this song represents 100% of my daily intake of Vitamin C and roughage. Nice climbing crescendos and key change towards the end. Big lights, earnest singing into each other’s faces… this is a song that speaks of carefully studied microphone angles and breath mints. Bless.

Slovenia, Lea Sirk, Hvala, ne! This is the one that stuck with me since I last saw it, but more for the snappiness of the staging and performances than for the song itself. They are enormously charismatic and the choreography is very well put out there. She changes it up tonight and tells them to stop the music and has the audience sing the refrain with her, which I really liked and thought much more successful than the fake cut in the semis, even if the chap in the audience the camera cut to was clearly wondering what the hell was happening and whether he had accidentally eaten the wrong brownies before he headed out tonight. I’m keen on these girls and hope they do well!

Lithuania, Ieva Zasimauskaite, When We’re Old. Sweet whispering song girl is back. She remains sweet and whispery. She and Joanna Newsome would make a lovely duet. Her voice is genuinely delightful, though there is a little more assist in the reverb than she needs: makes it all sound a bit more Jared Leto than is optimal. But I quibble, she is a delight. Her husband comes to join her at the end again and she seems deeply moved. Bodes well for their future.  

Austria, Cesar Sampson, Nobody But You. I resent Cesar’s bad T-shirt more than in the semis, because he is a hot young man and we should be allowed to enjoy him in all his loveliness and that plasticky bit is very distracting. The backing vocals in this track are probably the best in the whole contest, and he has a beautiful voice that I hope to hear more of. In a perfect world, John Legend writes a better version of La La Land in which this chap and his best friend come to LA to pursue their dreams and both succeed without hurting each other. It’s actually a decent song, it just sounds like a lot of other decent songs. But his performance is something very special.

Estonia, Elina Necheyava, La forza. She is lovely, her frock is lovely, her voice is lovely, this song is not going to win. Which is a shame, because I would like to see the ECS back in Tallinn. If they had a European Frock Contest, this would be douze points from everyone.

Norway, Alexander Rybak, That’s How You Write A Song. He is a super chap and I hope he does win Eurovision twice, but if he does it with this song, I will be looking at the countries that vote for it with thinly veiled disdain. This is the sort of song that would have had Paula Abdul dancing with an animated cat in the 1980s. But I will say that it is lovely to have him back so that Nigel Kennedy will finally have to give up any idea that he’s the hot young man with the violin. The crown, which was never really Nigel’s, is clearly Alexander’s.

Portugal, Claudia Pasqoal, O Jardim. Pink hair gets an extra 10 points from me to start with. Sounds like London Grammar, in both tune and delivery, but since I love them, that’s fine. Her frock is a nice wrap-around black number with thigh split. She’s joined on stage by a woman who looks a bit like Kirsten Stewart, and the two of them are in fact much cooler than practically everyone else in the stadium. That was a nice soft song that you would wrap up a big night or start a romance with and I liked it a lot. I want to see it in the top five, but not winning, because it’s too expensive to do this two years in a row!

The presenters make a knowing reference to the queerness of Eurovision and it comes off as an inside joke not an arch piece of commentary, and this is the point at which I accept that I have fallen for their charms and will never be free of this annual horror.

United Kingdom, SuRie, Storm. We’ve done something unusual this year and sent someone good. It won’t help, but it’s a pleasant change. More pink hair, with a sort of Annie Lennox hair and jumpsuit arrangement. I hate to say this, but this song is actually pretty damned good. What the hell? We’re usually awful. The staging is admirably simple and the performance is a cracker, and there is some fuckwit invading the stage to shout something and WELL DONE YOU, YOUNG WOMAN, you held that together amazingly! She is in fact bringing it even more strongly, even though the incident clearly affected her. How amazing is she! ‘Some absolute cockhead’ is the Australian boy commentator’s description of the stage invader and he is 100% on the money.

They skip to the green room with Little One while they deal with the stage invader situation and she is talking to vampire boy from the Ukraine who offers to bite her neck and talks about his personal brand. If he doesn’t have 100,000 followers on Instagram and a YouTube ‘presence’, I will be very surprised.

Back to the show!

Serbia, Sanja Ilic & Balkanika, Nova Deca. This song remains as OTT and epic as in the semis with costumes and wailing mysticism that puts me in mind of nothing so much as one of those epic episodes of Xena that your girlfriends used to trot out in the 90s to talk about when lesbian subtext becomes text. It’s classic Eurovision and if it wins I will be thrilled.

Germany, Michael Schulte, You Let Me Walk Alone. It’s apparently a song to his father, who died when he was young, and it’s got a hell of a dose of the Ed Sheerans, from the hair to the singing style. It’s saved from the annoying side of the Sheerans by the personal message, which comes through strongly. Though it’s a little unfair in the ‘you will never know, because you let me walk this road alone’, unless his father took his own life. Just saying. Exactly the right mix of sentiment and ten-year-old newness that could win, thanks to a very strong performance.

Albania, Eugent Bushpepa, Mall. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this song in the semis and I am still surprised about it now. It’s everything I would usually mock, including a safe 80s chord sequence and handclapping, but it somehow works superbly and he looks a little nervous, yet has an actually superior classic rock voice, instead of the standard ‘thinks is great, is OK’ frontman. I think the dungaree drummer, who has done both of his straps up tonight, has won me over.

France, Madame Monsieur, Mercy. It’s political! And about refugees. And my French isn’t good enough to follow it entirely, but she is all the children, her name is Mercy and she is fleeing war and is alive and she needs our help. It’s actually a cracker of a tune, and the Jean-Paul Gaultier outfits are the classiest of the evening. Far too attractive for this shindig.

Czech Republic, Mikolas Josef, Lie to Me. I think what troubles me most about this song is that I keep expecting Will Smith to appear. Much as in the semis. They are perfectly good, it is just not my cup of tea. Nice little flip at the end, and the dancing is excellent. Bless em.

Denmark, Rasmussen, Higher Ground. I’m putting this out there: I think I want these guys to win. But it’s entirely based on the fact they are singing about pacifist vikings and I have mentally built them up into a rejection of toxic masculinity in favour of human decency and manliness meaning things like facing your fears and having integrity, which I can get behind. If there is a MeToo/Weinstein moment for any of these chaps, I’m coming after them with an axe. I do like a Wailing Medjeval Epic though.

Australia, Jessica Mauboy, We Got Love. Jess is gorgeous and she loves a crowd, which is good because the crowd loves her. Every lovely thing I said about her in the semis remains true. Alas, it also remains true that this song could be better. But it’s grown on me. We may be powerless to bring down the US government, and its lesser evils the UK and Australian governments, but we’ve got love and regular elections, and New Zealand, and it will be OK in the end. She’s a champion and I hope she makes the top five!

Saintly and Blondie are back mocking social media and rightly so.

Now NCIS is eulogising the first winner of the Eurovision Song Contest, Lys Assia, who died at the age of 94 in March. For five seconds. There’s efficient and there’s cold, ladies.

Finland, Saara Aalto, Monsters. This is the other song I want to win, though I have to confess I wouldn’t mind if the UK won, after SuRie’s amazing turn. But Saara’s voice fills the stadium and sails up and down the scale. Still with the Annie Lennox Bondage Backup Dancers, which makes two tributes to Scotland’s finest Oscar winner in the one show. I’m slightly less convinced by the song the second time round, but the performance is great. Her backwards death dive at the end is a cracker!

Bulgaria, Equinox, Bones. This song remains all about the girl’s Heey-yays for me and nothing has changed. It’s another one that is very good, just not for me. Cup of tea time! Good lighting at the end. T2’s Turkish Apple is definitely the right tea for tonight!

Moldova, DoReDoS, My Lucky Day. Kids, I am all for polyamory, but it should be based on mutual communication, not sneaking about. It turns out well for them, though, and it’s a fun song.

Little One is here with the audience and everyone is Very Drunk. I think she is trying to pick up a tall British girl, and I like her even more.

Sweden, Benjamin Ingrosso, Dance You Off. This is a favourite with the punters but not with me. Soz, Ben.

Hungary, AWS, Viszlát Nyár. It’s the lovely Lordi Lite lads and while I respect his vocal cords for surviving the sustained abuse, I am skipping through this one as it’s getting late here and there are hours of judging to go.

Israel, Netta, Toy. The Aussie commentators have mentioned that she would have broken a stage invader and I think this true. She looks as though she would have enjoyed it, too. I feel you, Netta. The chicken bits are a bit distracting, but she sells the hell out of this and it’s bright and bouncy. Another one I won’t mind winning. Also, more pink hair. I was clearly two years ahead of the curve on that one.

The Netherlands, Waylon, Outlaw in ’Em. Apparently, Waylon is cool with people who don’t really like country. Which is good news. I do like country if it’s Johnny Cash or Dolly Parton, but yeah, on this one we’re just going to have to quietly share a beer and talk about something else, Waylon. You’re a good chap and your band is excellent, so if you win I won’t be upset, even if I still don’t like this song. It’s just my taste rather than there being anything objectively bad about it. Hang on: turns out the band are the dancers. They are going off and taking the piss in epic quantities and I like it quite a bit more after that.

Ireland, Ryan O’Shaugnessey, Together. Apparently China cut the broadcast of this one due to the gay backup dancers and Eurovision cut their contract in response. Well done, Eurovision! This song remains sweet and beautifully performed, with the backup dancers really carrying the whole show. But there’s not a lot to it aside from the lovely staging.

Cyprus, Eleni Fouriera, Fuego. Another one I will not be surprised if it wins. Spectacular combination of song and performance, with fabulous backing dancers/singers (again, the best combo set). If Beyonce came to Eurovision in disguise, this would be her performance, and I am reading the whole thing as a tribute to Queen Bey, which is pretty easy given that practically every aspect of it references her. She is nervous as hell at the end, but the performance was stonkingly good.

Italy, Ermal Meta and Fabrizio Moro, Non me avete fatto niente. Written in response to the bombing in Manchester, this is a strongly serious track from a country that can often be flippant at Eurovision and in the first thirty seconds we see the passionate political engagement that explains the entirety of Italian politics. It’s a strong piece and well performed, including wailing hero notes  towards the end and overlays in the various languages of Europe declaring defiance to terrorism. I think it might be in with a shot.

Presenters have had a costume change. NCIS is Morticia Addams, Blondie is Meryl Streep circa 1988, Saintly is Sophia Loren circa 1968 and Little One has come as a Glomesh handbag. Oh, holy moly, it’s recap time before the votes. We learn that SuRie was invited to perform again and has decided not to. Bless her toughness! I am fast forwarding through this as life is too short.

Blondie’s cleavage is plunging to her belly button and I am just impressed by the amount of double-sided tape holding that outfit together. The interval act is local musicians, who are splendid, but I need to get a few things done while I listen, so you go and download it from the official site. Worth your time!

Another recap, more fast forwarding. Australia’s commentary team are doubling as the royal wedding commentators and I think I might actually catch that on SBS as it would be a bit of a giggle. It’s Australia’s multicultural channel and I love it because it’s full of international films and news, but I have an American friend who refers to it as ‘That channel where your government gives you free soft porn.’ Mate, it’s Swedish film and you just need to expand your horizons!

Blondie is with the audience and she has found some Irish people who are delightful. And now they are doing Portuguese pop culture things that go over my head, and recapping Junior Eurovsion, which is like Senior Eurovision, but with more sedate images and sober contestants. The Junior winner sings a little of last year’s Senior winner, which is apparently a new condition for entry into Lisbon as every man and his dog as been trotting it out. Saintly presenter might be a little drunk, you know.

NCIS and Little One are in the Green Room, introducing Salvador Sobral, last year’s winner, and he’s looking a bit healthier, which is good! Still as fey as ever, but find your schtick and stick with it, I say. Lovely new song, you should download it, too, as I need to put a load of dishes on, so won’t be describing it. Ah, he’s had a heart transplant. Excellent! That is good news!

He’s joined by the legendary Caetano Veloso and they (Caetano for the most part) sing last year’s winning song and it’s quite lovely. Salvador is visibly moved by the whole thing. Where is his sister? Apparently he’s been slagging off some of the other songs and it’s caused an upset, but seriously, Sir Terry Wogan made a career out of that and there are thousands if not millions of us who do it on an amateur basis, so why should he miss out?

Little One has some fans pretending to do some last-minute voting, and she has been the hardest working presenter. I hope that tall British girl she was chatting up earlier has a cold bottle of gin and a big cake for the two of them later tonight, she’s earned it!

Jon Ola Sand says votes are ready to go! Jury votes first.

Ukraine first: 8 The Netherlands, 10 Israel, 12 France.

Azerbaijan, 8 Hungary, 10 Serbia, 12 to Albania.

They are FLYING through this.

Belarus, 8 Norway, 10 Austria, Australia is nowhere at the moment, 12 to Cyprus!

San Marino, 8 Sweden, 10 Germany, 12 to Israel. He’s chattier than the others.

The Netherlands, 8 Sweden, 10 Austria, 12 Germany.

FYR Macedonia, 8 Serbia, 10 Cyprus, 12 ESTONIA! YAY

Malta, 8 France, 10 Italy, 12 Cyprus, which is starting to pull ahead. Australia still nowhere.

Georgia, 8 Austria, 10 Estonia, 12 Sweden, who take the lead. Meh.

Spain 8 Austria, 10, Israel, 12 Cyprus. UK still on 0, which is for once entirely unfair.

Austria, 8 Sweden, 10 Germany, 12 Israel, who pop in front. It’s a big battle tonight!

Denmark, 8 Austria, 10 Australia, THANK YOU! 12 to Germany.

UK, 8 Bulgaria, 10 Israel, She cracks onto Jon Ola and I respect that, 12 Austria. Not a sausage to Oz, you bastards.

Sweden, 8 Australia, 10 Austria, 12 Cyprus.

Latvia, 8 Estonia, 10 France, 12 Sweden.

Albania, 8 Bulgaria, 10 Cyprus, 12 Italy!

Croatia, 8 Moldova, 10 Israel, 12 Lithuania. The UK has 4, which is not enough, but there we go.

Ireland, 8 Germany, 10 Bulgaria, 12 Cyprus. Nothing for Oz. I’m reading this as a protest against Peter Dutton’s appalling treatment of refugees.

Romania, 8 The Netherlands, 10 Spain, 12 Austria.

Czech Republic, 8 Sweden, 10 Ireland (nice!), 12 Israel.

Iceland 8 Israel, 10 Albania, 12 Austria. Denmark is down on 7, alas.

Moldova 8 Bulgaria, 10 Israel, 12 Estonia!

Belgium, 8 Sweden, 10 The Netherlands, 12 Austria, which is terrific given how good his voice is!

Norway, 8 Austria, 10 Sweden, 12 Germany.

France, 8 Germany, 10 Australia, Merci!, 12 Israel. They and Austria are creeping ahead.

Italy, 8 Denmark, 10 Germany, 12 Norway.

Australia, 8 Estonia, 10 Germany, and Ricardo Gonzales’s Aussie Portuguese accent is a cracker. 12 to Sweden and FUCK YOU ALL the Australian jury. This is how we get Turnbull and Dutton.

Estonia, 8 Cyprus, 10 Lithuania, 12 Austria.

Serbia, 8 Italy, 10 Germany, 12 Sweden.

Cyprus, 8 Italy, 10 Moldova, 12 Sweden and you are all clearly drunk. The jury votes are all over the shop.

Armenia, 8 Israel, 10 Moldova, 12 Sweden.

Bulgaria, 8 Czech Republic, 10 Lithuania, 12 Austria.

Greece, 8 Sweden, 10 Moldova, 12 Cyprus. I typed that 30 seconds before she said it. No need for correction.

Hungary, 8 Austria, 10 Albania, 12 Denmark! YAY! The Vikings go off! They are chuffed.

Montenegro, 8 Moldova, 10 Albania, 12 Serbia. Big surprise!

Germany, 8 Ireland, 10 Austria, 12 Sweden because they are all drunk. But Austria is still ahead!

Finland, 8 Sweden, 1o Bulgaria, 12 Israel.

Russia, 8 Israel, 10 Sweden, 12 Moldova; look, they were fun.

Switzerland, 8 Lithuania, 10 Estonia, 12 Germany.

Israel, 8 UK THANKS, 10 Sweden, 12 Austria.

Poland, 8 The Netherlands, 10 Germany, 12 Austria.

Lithuania, 8 Sweden, 10 France, 12 Austria.

Slovenia, 8 Cyprus, 10 Austria, 12 Sweden.

Portugal, 8 Austria, 10 Albania, 12 ESTONIA! Oh, Portugal, you are so delightfully odd. I love you guys.

That’s it for juries, but we have the popular votes to go. Australia currently in 12th, Denmark and UK nowhere, which is cruel on both counts. Austria in first place, which I think is down to a great performance. Sweden second, probs down to the drink. The Israel song is third, which I think will go up with the popular vote.

Jon Ola Sand is back. He says the public votes are exciting. Here we go! They are reading them out from lowest to highest.

9 to Australia. Fuck the lot of you. Unless that’s a protest against Australian refugee policy and black deaths in custody, in which case, fair enough. 18 to Portugal and Spain 21 Sweden YES! Good! Sorry, I mean, Oh well. 23 Slovenia 23 Finland Rude. Should have been more. 25 UK Very rude! Should have been lots more! 32 The Netherlands 58 Albania A joke. The people are morons. 59 France Ripped off. 62 Ireland 65 Hungary 66 Bulgaria 71 Austria NO!!!! WOE!! Sorry, mate. You were triff. 75 Serbia Should have been more. 84 Norway 91 Lithuania 102 Estonia 115 Moldova 119 Ukraine Fair, they deserved some points for that show. 136 Germany Surprised it wasn’t more, he’s rather good. 180 Denmark I’m good with that one. They are stoked. 215 Czech Republic 249 Italy and they are also thrilled. 253 Cyprus I think she is both heartbroken at not winning and thrilled at not bankrupting a Cypriot TV station with the cost. ISRAEL HAS WON! (though I missed how many popular points they got. More than 253)

(This will be a tiny bit awkward if the whole Iran war thing kicks off. Maybe this will be the kick up the bum that Netanyahu needs to pull his head in. I would very much like my friends in Israel to have fewer things to worry about, so not starting wars seems like an excellent idea.)

Netta is thrilled, the ladies are a little drunk, Jessica Mauboy has snuck off to party with the Irish mob and fingers crossed Mr Austria’s phone is already running hot with people who want to put that glorious voice with better songs. But keep the backing singers. They were ace. Netta sings us out and we are DONE for another year. Goodnight, Eurovision. Why can’t I quit you?

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better wen you didn’t have a knife in your hand... Chapter 108 - There’s just somethin’ I need you to see

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she's certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

MASTERLIST

Chapter 108 - There’s just somethin’ I need you to see...

[Blake is at the Sanctuary and bumps into a person she certainly wasn't expecting to be back so soon.]

Today felt like a good day- a rare thing in this world that was for sure!

After having what had felt like the longest lay-in Blake had had in years, feeling oh-so snuggly and sleepy under Negan's sheets, that smelt of his deliciously heady, musky scent, Blake had dragged herself dozily into his shower.

The water had been hot and much needed and had felt so good, burning its way across her smooth skin.

She knew that, right now, life for her was good.

She was lucky to have found herself in such a good position in her life. Here, with a man she loved, and who loved her back.

She had gone for years being on the bottom rung…with David…living out there on the road…sleeping in horrible places surrounded by walking corpses and fearing for your life every time you ventured out to use the bathroom. So despite having everything she would ever want, right here with Negan, Blake knew she couldn't take any of it for granted. Wanting to give the rest of the people here, exactly what she had. Making a better life for all of them.

That was why, after languishing in the shower for a while before heading down to her room to get a fresh change of clothes, Blake had headed out to garden, toiling here for a couple of hours….happy and content with spending time here and pulling her weight as and when she could.

But it was obvious that her love for the people here, was indeed, very much reciprocated. They cared for her, as much as she cared for them, none of them fearing her like they feared Negan, and treating her as one of their own.

And this made her happier than ever.

It was a nice feeling. To be here amongst people who actually gave a shit about here, unlike the people back at Alexandria , who had proven that they would rather have sided with an abusive man over her…just because of her alliance with Negan.

Sure, the dark-haired Saviour certainly had his flaws there was no doubt of that. But he loved her and he had shown Blake just how much he cared for her each and every day, tenfold over the way David had treated her.

Negan had made her feel happy and safe, and that, in this world, meant so, so much.

It had been almost lunchtime by the time Blake, having taken a short break to use the bathroom and freshen up a little after weeding non-stop for almost two hours, was stood in her room humming to herself, as she prepared herself a small cheese and tomato sandwich.

She was dressed today in something far less pretty than yesterday's floral dress. Instead, wearing just a pair of tight indigo jeans, a white t-shirt and pair of brown boots. Her long caramel-hair swept over one shoulder.

Blake had been desperate for the taste of tomatoes for a few days now and was delighted when she had noticed that John (one of the older Saviours that helped out in the gardens sometimes) had already picked an entire basketful straight from the vine by the time Blake had made it outside this morning.

Now Blake carefully cut the single tomatoe she had gratefully taken into thin slices and placed them on top of the synthetic cheese slice she had gladly accepted from a stall at the marketplace, before squishing down the top of her bread roll onto the filling, and lifting it to her mouth to take a huge bite.

God it felt good to taste something as fresh as this, Blake's mouth watering as she savoured the taste of tomato.

She smiled to herself almost instantly….almost shaking her head.

She really did realise how lucky she truly was right now.

Here she was, with fresh fruit and veg on her plate almost every day, in her own room, at a well-protected place like the Sanctuary, with people all around who cared about her….eating a sandwich.

Something she could have only dreamed of doing just a year ago, as she had cowered inside an abandoned barn eating roadkill and cold dog-food, straight from a can.

It had been tough for her at times out there….but she had made it through. She had survived all of that. Survived the threat of walkers…David's beatings….and she had survived herself.

At times, Blake had wanted to give up on everything, but she had pushed through, with the help of Negan, and become everything that she was today. Strong and bold, and as Negan oh-so aptly put it - 'a bit of a badass'.

But she smiled to herself again now, thinking on this, as she carefully wiped her mouth, placing down the rest of her sandwich to save for later, as her eyes lingered for just a moment on the abandoned mixing bowl she had failed to wash up from making brownies yesterday.

Blake's mind, at this, drifting back to that amazing moment where Negan had fucked her up against this very counter yesterday…the thought alone driving her wild as she remembered how it had felt to have him want her just that bad, and the way she had wanted him just as much in return.

But Blake's smile and her hazy memory soon faltered a little, as she remembered just what had followed this good sex….

Fuck…

She had promised herself not even twenty-four hours ago that she would go see Doctor Carson today.

She and Negan had been having a lot of sex as of late….and of course, they were as irresponsible as each other, and Blake knew what could happen if they weren't careful….and falling pregnant in this world was not something Blake could risk happening…

She had miscarried twice already in her life….and it didn't bare thinking about what would happen if the same thing happened to her here with only one doctor and not enough medical equipment to see her through.

And besides, no one truly knew what would happen to a deceased foetus in the womb in this world.

Blake let a gulp trail it's way difficultly down her throat as she tried to shake horrible thoughts like these from her mind now…sliding the sandwich across the work surface away from her in disgust, as she turned on her heel, marching across the room and hauling open the door.

Carson would help…he would surely have the morning-after plan b pill for her…and hopefully some form of birth control contraceptive to take in the future.

But Blake, so on a mission now…. with her hair flying wildly behind her as she stalked hurriedly down the lengthy Sanctuary corridor….that she barley even had time to stop herself as she barrelled straight into a tall, looming, and very recognisable figure, as she hurriedly rounded the corner.

"Oof…ouch…" she uttered out, stumbling backwards and blinking few times as she stared up into a face she had certainly not been expecting to see so soon today.

"Negan?" she said in a quiet voice, looking a little confused, as she stared up into the eyes of the dark-haired Saviour, standing there before her now with his shoulders slightly slumped, Lucille held loosely in his hand, and a dark, worried looking frown plastered across his brow.

What the hell was he doing here?

But Blake shot him a bemused look in return, glancing over his shoulder as Arat appeared there, looking solemn.

"I thought you'd gone to Alexandria?" the caramel-blonde woman asked questioningly.

It was at least a good two hour drive to Alexandria from here and there was no way the Saviours could have made it all the way there and back again with enough time for Negan to bother the hell out of Rick.

But Negan didn't answer her now, merely staring at her with a look of frustration lingering over his long and bearded features.

"What is it?" Blake murmured, her smile dissipating little. "What's wrong? H-Has something happened?"

Blake looked now to Arat, but the curly-haired woman gave her nothing, her hazel eyes merely reaching the floor at her feet.

What the hell was going on? What was Negan keeping from her?

Blake felt her heart begin to beat a little faster now as she attempted a smile. Perhaps this was some sort of joke.

But Negan was never ever this quiet.

"W-Where's everyone else?", she asked slowly, her green eyes searching his face.

But it was only then that Negan spoke, low and growling, his chocolate eyes fixed on hers.

"Doll…there's somethin' I need you to see…" he muttered imploringly. "Come on, we need to load up an' go back there…now."

At his words Blake narrowed her eyes at him a little questioningly.

Go back there?

What? To Alexandria?

"What the hell are you talking about, Negan?" she said in a slightly defensive tone, as she folded her arms over her chest, her voice wavering slightly as she spoke.

She had no idea what was going on, was this some sort of joke?

"Fuck….jeez, Sweetheart" Negan breathed , running a hand over his face tiredly, looking far more exhausted now than he had done upon leaving just a few hours ago. "You just need to come back there with us, like I said, there's somethin' you need to see…"

But Blake just tutted, shaking her head and making to shove past Negan.

She had no idea what game he was playing today, but Blake, her good mood now utterly gone, felt pissed-off and not in the mood for any of this right now.

"There is no way I'm going back there, Negan," she said, lifting her chin and making to head off down the corridor back to the gardens. "I told you earlier I didn't want to see those people…so whatever this is…whatever you're trying to do, I'm not interested."

But before she could go very far, a sudden gloved hand reached for her forearm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Peaches, jesus, will you just wait a fuckin' second…"

But Blake, scowling darkly, spun around, pointing her finger threateningly at Negan.

"I'm not going back there," she said staring up at the dark-haired leader of the Saviours now, her face deadly serious and her eyebrows up in her hairline. "Look, baby, I don't know what game you're trying to play with them…or with me…but I don't want to get involved-"

And with that, Blake tugged her arm from Negan's grasp, turning back around once more.

God, how the hell could one man possible infuriate her so much?

Just a few short hours ago, there she had been, with him, in a stare of undress….the pair of them utterly in love. And yet now, Blake was thoroughly pissed with the bearded Saviour.

She had told him point blank this morning, and yesterday for that matter, that she hadn't wanted to go to Alexandria and now here he was, obviously on some sort of glory trip, wanting her to return there with him…and for what?

To show her off?

To gloat?

But Blake had barely made it even two or three steps down the gloomy hallway, when Negan suddenly spoke, his voice loud and clear…

"Darlin', she's there…."

Blake suddenly stopped dead…

..her lips parting and her eyes fixed on a spot dead ahead of her….

What had he just said?

..she blinked once….

…twice….

..three times…

…before slowly turning back around on the spot, her heart hammering a drumbeat in her chest.

She stared up into Negan's eyes now…as her breath caught in her throat….seeing in his gaze, a sad sort-of look that only caused to make tears prick at Blake's green orbs…

The caramel-blonde woman looked at him…desperate for him to say it again…

But he didn't need to….

For Blake could see it now in his dark eyes…the truth…

And she didn't even need to ask who he was referring to.

For there was only one person to make him look at her in this way….the dark-haired Saviour's face full of hurt and anguish and wordless meaning.

"Mia?" Blake managed to whisper out, her own eyes suddenly welling with tears.

And it took a long second for Negan to finally nod, taking a step towards her, a line between his eyebrows and his jaw clenched tightly.

"She's there…..an' I'm takin' you to fuckin get her, Peaches…"

Tara paced across her living room floor, her fingers drawn up to her mouth, biting down on her nails.

Shit. This wasn't good.

"He's comin' back for her…" said Rick shaking his head, as he stood there beside Michonne, arms folded over himself. "…my guess is that he'll be back within the hour…"

"Well what are we going to do?" Michonne murmured, staring up at her partner and shaking her head. "We can't just hand her over to him!"

But Rick gave a shrug of his tired shoulders.

"I don' think we have a choice right now…" he said in a low voice.

But Tara, as much as the kid frustrated the hell out of her sometimes, was not about to just give her up without a fight. Not to him.

"I won't let him just take her…" she said continuing in her pacing. "If he wants her, he's going to have to go through me."

After Negan had disappeared, Tara had taken the tiny girl up to her room and tried to distract her as best she could with some crayons and a colouring book, before shutting her in. Hoping that would give her and Rick and Michonne enough time to come up with a solution to their problem.

"When he comes back, he's not just going to be on his own. That's what he said…" murmured Rick, causing Michonne to frown darkly.

"So what? He's bringing more Saviours?" she asked stariing at him wildly.

But Rick shook his head, grimacing, and offering the two women a dark look.

"No…" he said in a worried voice. "Someone else…"

But Tara, at Rick's words, merely gave a huff and continued the chewing of her nails…

…waiting…..

But if one of them had only chosen to look out into the hallway at that very moment….surely one of them would have noticed a tiny toddler, in pink pyjamas, carrying a large fluffy toy snake, make her way down the stairs on pudgy legs, alone and unheard…

...and in the blink of an eye…

…without so much as a backward look…

….she was gone….

….leaving the front door creaking wide open behind her…..

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Tangerines

Season 8 Her doctor assured them that everything was fine. The placental abruption, though a serious complication in pregnancy, somehow managed to resolve itself and both Scully and the baby were healthy. There really wasn’t any concrete medical explanation but that was to be expected with a miracle. Dr. Speake insisted that Scully was to start her maternity leave early and avoid being on her feet for long periods of time. Mulder seized the opportunity to show her he wanted to be involved and his first mission was to acquire proper nutrition for the mother of his unborn child.

“You’ll be okay, Mulder?” she asked looking slightly worried.

He compiled the dishes they had just finished using for their breakfast into a neat tower and nodded. Her concern could either be because he wasn't fully himself after everything They did to him or she thought he would only come back with sunflower seeds and artificially flavored orange juice. The remnants of their meal were placed in the sink and he glanced at his wristwatch. It was just twenty past nine so there was plenty of time to brave the store lines and come back to spend the rest of the day together.

“I know just what you need,” he answered with all the self-assurance he could muster.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Are you bringing back ice cream?”

An amused smile formed on his lips and he placed his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her forehead that was a throwback to all the times his feelings for her consumed him but could not be articulated.

“Chocolate Brownie Extravaganza,” he confirmed with the seriousness he used when discussing UFO sightings. He put on his jacket and gathered his keys, placing them in the pocket of his dark jeans, and held onto the doorknob. He looked at her trying not to regard her with the panic he felt in leaving her. “You’re going to take it easy, right?”

Her right hand moved to her lower back and she nodded.

“I’m going to lay down.”

He released the breath he was holding, his lips pursed out like a kiss.

“Mulder, I’ll be fine,” she said and started to make her way to the bedroom.

He closed the door but then opened it and stuck his head in her apartment. “Oh, and Scully?”

She was just outside the hallway and turned her head towards him. “Yes?”

“I’ll bring some chocolate syrup and those crushed peanuts you like,” he added. “Since I noticed that you’re out.”

She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

It only took about forty-five minutes to complete his errand. Mulder had never purchased so many items labeled ‘high in fiber’ and ‘natural ingredients only.’ Though he was thrilled with the side effects of pregnancy that had Scully pining for pizza and French toast at all hours of the day, he had covered the chapter on what to eat while growing a baby. He knew that her body needed foods that were rich in protein and iron. He had also read that prenatal babies needed a good source of B-vitamin complex like folic acid. Coincidently, tangerines were an abundant source.

He missed out on offering her the coveted little fruit and making some endearing remark on how the baby was the same size that week. He would have liked to have done that along with just being there from the moment she found out. There was so much he would have wanted to change but he wasn't even supposed to have lived. He didn't dare bring it up now because what would be the point in reminding her of his shortcomings? He was more than grateful that she hadn’t condemned him to hell and moved on with her life. The only thing left to do was to prove himself worthy of her and their baby or die trying.

Since coming back, he couldn't stand the loneliness of his apartment as it only invited the darkness of his ordeal into his mind. With her, he was surrounded by light and of course, it gave him the chance to be the overprotective and doting partner, even though he would never admit that to her. At his insistence, he spent another night on her couch. He was afraid that his nightmares would disrupt her sleep, or worse, hurt her.

On his way back to her apartment, he stopped by the farmers market on 26th and O street and picked up five pounds of tangerines.

Five pounds, Mulder thought in awe. That's the weight the pregnancy book said the baby is right now at thirty-five weeks gestation.

He couldn't stop thinking about it as he tested the weight of the bag of fruit in his hand. Maybe he hadn't missed out on the opportunity of relating the two after all. It was a true wonder that she was carrying five pounds worth of a little person they made together inside her body.

The front door was unlocked without trouble, considering his arms were laden with grocery bags. He had to juggle them around to fish his keys out of his pocket and maneuvered his way inside. As he entered the warmth and comfort of her living room, Scully came padding down the hallway with a slight waddle he had come to find sexy and cute at the same time.

“Sit down, Scully,” he commanded before she could offer to help. “I remember where everything goes. You need to rest.”

He removed his jacket and toed off his shoes. The ice cream and other perishables were quickly put away. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he grabbed three tangerines and peeled them over the kitchen sink and disposed of the rinds when he was finished.

He walked over to her where she was sitting on the couch. With her swollen belly and clad in the blue silk pajamas she had the night before, she was quite the vision. He smiled at the sight of her pink little toenails as she propped her feet uncharacteristically on the coffee table.

“A little something that's better than congealed cheese,” he quipped as he offered a yellow porcelain bowl filled with tiny tangerine wedges.

She took the bowl from him and smiled.

“Mulder,” she said before putting a piece in her mouth. “So sweet.”

Her eyes met his and he couldn't contain his delight when he realized that she wasn't talking about the little orange.

He sat down next to her and she extended the bowl of fruit to him. He picked a delicate piece of tangerine and examined it.

“I missed this,” he began.

She swallowed and said, “Your recovery has been remarkable on its own, Mulder.”

He ate the wedge and leaned towards her as a smile crept up on her lips.

“I mean this,” he clarified. He made a sweeping gesture that included them and their surroundings. “Us, sitting here. Things are starting to feel like old times.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” she said softly.

She averted her eyes and her hand moved to her belly, rubbing gently on the spot which he now knew signaled the baby was kicking.

He took the bowl from her and placed it on the coffee table.

There were many things running through his mind that he wanted to say. He had apologized for not being the first person to greet her when she had woken up in the hospital. There was gratitude on his part for everything John Doggett had done for Scully but there was still some jealousy towards the agent. For the past six months, Doggett got to share an office with her and knew to keep ginger ale and chocolate wafers around to relieve nausea and cravings. He needed to count his blessings but Mulder couldn't help feel replaced.

His gaze settled on her hands, how they tenderly stroked and then cupped her distended stomach. The gentle waves of the baby’s movements beneath her palms were hypnotic.

“Looks like someone else likes tangerines.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out. Her breath was slightly hitched while their child continued to shift around inside her. “I haven't had some in a while and it looks like the baby is enjoying the Vitamin C.”

She smiled and gazed at him with an expression that said ‘see for yourself.’ He delightedly accepted the invitation and placed his right hand on her belly and was immediately rewarded with a strong jab.

“Wow! He's moving even more,” he marveled. “He didn't react like this to the pizza last night.”

He settled himself deeper in the couch and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer to him with a little sigh.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked.

“I'm already doing it,” he provided seriously.

“Mulder…”

She stopped and licked her lips. He could tell she was weighing something on her mind and he felt bad that she felt any hesitation. After waking up and remembering what had been done to him, he couldn't control the anger and bitterness that arose. He knew the baby was his but he felt awkward fitting back into his life. There were a lot of possibilities that scared him and the biggest one was if Scully even wanted a life with him after everything he had put her through. Their child’s paternity had not been revealed to anyone except her mother and as much as he respected her decision, it hurt. Everyone seemed to suspect he was the father but he had a feeling that admitting it would endanger her and spoil her reputation.

“What is it, Scully?” he prompted and caressed her shoulder.

“When I asked you to father my child, I didn't have anyone else in mind,” she stated with evident conviction in her tone. “If you had said no, I don't think I would have gone with an anonymous donor. I wanted a baby with you and only you, Mulder. When I found out I was pregnant, revealing you were the father would have given them a reason to close down the X-Files and not let me find you.”

He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry about the other day… I was just teasing about the pizza man.”

“I know. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I've lost my sense of humor,” she told him.

He nodded and pursed his lips.

“If you want to make things more official,” he started to say not being able to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Mulder you're not obligated to-”

“No, don't do that, Scully,” he cut her off. “This has nothing to do with obligation and I've already told you that.”

“I just want you to be sure that this is what you want,” she said placing her hands on her belly again. “You've been through so much and I don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything.”

“Are you afraid of me?” he interrupted. “Because of what happened, what they did?”

His heart beat frantically in his chest in anticipation of hearing her answer.

She gripped his forearm. “Mulder, no. I feel safe with you.”

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

She began to shift around and he grabbed her by the wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” she murmured.

The deep blue of her eyes was striking and their brightness beckoned him to not doubt her words. The love he saw in them always had the power to make him feel whole. Placing her hand on his shoulder for support, she lifted her body off the couch and sat on his lap.

“Hi,” he said with reverence. He gazed at her before his eyes moved to her lips. His arms embraced her, one hand snaked around her back and the other rested on her belly.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Is this okay?”

He nodded and began to rub circles over her pajama top and fidgeted with the small buttons. Even though he didn't have all the answers and he feared the possibility of aliens coming to colonize the earth and hurt their baby, there was one thing that was certain: he loved them and he would do anything to protect them.

His fingers deftly undid the buttons of her top to just below her breasts. He placed his hand on her bare skin and looked up at her.

“I can't get enough of how warm you are,” he said continuing to caress her taut skin. “You’re so beautiful, Scully.”

She stared back at him longingly with parted lips. Their heads inched even closer together. The slight tint of pink on her cheeks made him feel bold and he closed the small gap between them. He captured her mouth and his tongue gently prodded and tasted. A soft whimper filled the quiet of the room and was quickly accompanied by a groan of his own.

“We can’t,” he reminded her though he was also telling himself. “You have to take it easy.”

“You started it,” she muttered.

His jaw dropped slightly indicating his surprise at her interpretation of who had caused the temperature to elevate in the room first. He could have pointed out that her sitting on his lap was the precursor to him wanting to lose himself in her and he had solid evidence straining against his jeans to prove it. When they decided to cross the final line in their relationship it was Scully who initiated it. It was by far one of the sexiest and most enthralling experiences of his life. Therefore, he didn't find the need to verbalize technicalities. She desired him as much as he did her and he would always be grateful for that.

“How about some lunch?” he suggested. “I want to know how he reacts to broccoli.”

“He tends to poke me in the ribs just like his father,” she said dryly.

Mulder smiled proudly. He helped her get up and they made their way to the kitchen.

“There’s something I want to ask,” she revealed as she buttoned up her shirt. “I have a Lamaze class in a couple of weeks and, um, I wanted to ask if you would go with me.”

His chest expanded with pride and he took a deep breath. These were the kind of things he didn't dare to imagine because they seemed too good to be true. Before he fell in love with her, he would have told anyone that he could prove the existence of aliens before finding himself in the situation of becoming a father. Then, he found out what it was like to be loved by her and he yearned to give her everything. Despite their need to keep their relationship a secret, a part of him wanted the liberty of having everyone know that they belonged to each other. Now he would have that opportunity in a room filled with Kellys and Toms.

“Yes,” he answered confidently in spite of the rapid pounding of his heart. “Of course, Scully. I want to be involved.”

He wrapped his arms around her to seal the deal. His hands glided up and down her back. She felt so good to touch.

“Okay,” she beamed.

Images of Scully sitting in between his legs while they made forced breathing noises together in a room full of strangers brought another smile to his face. They would get to be a normal couple - whatever that was. They were expecting a baby, and everyone else would silently congratulate him for causing her condition. It dawned on him that if she was inviting him to Lamaze then perhaps he could anticipate being in the delivery room. He hoped he could provide her with everything she needed. For the first time since waking up from being dead, Mulder felt thrilled. This excitement wasn’t comparable to getting leads on lake monsters or evidence for the existence of extraterrestrials. It exceeded that because this was a life he had made with her, and despite the odds against them, she wanted him there.

The only answers he could be certain of were waiting for him in a chapter titled Just Breathe and he had to do just that.

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