outerjjbx

[outerjjbx]

eyo. chapter 5 lol https://archiveofourown.org/works/33047560/chapters/83427829

[outerjjbx]

LADS!! chapter 4 is here!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33047560/chapters/82781809

[outerjjbx]

mmmm

Jiara Week is returning for 2021! 

Did you ever doubt us? 

While it won’t be for a couple months yet - we want to give everyone enough time to process the new season and prepare - we are starting to put together this years prompts. 

That’s where you come in. Fill out the form below with your suggestions for this years prompts. We are open to having some of the same prompts as last year but would also love some new ones to mix it up. Last years prompts were: 

pre canon, activity, au, destination, 5+1, firsts, genre 

Are you are jiara giffer? 

This year we are also thinking about creating a prompt list for gifs as well! So if this sounds like something you’d be interesting in participating in let us know! Everyone is welcome to suggests prompts for this section too! 

In the meantime keep on sharing the jiara love and we’ll see you soon for jiara week 2021! 

SUGGEST YOUR PROMPTS HERE!

[outerjjbx]

chapter 3 of there are lessons to be learned babes :)

[outerjjbx]

chapter two of there are lessons to be learned (jjpope library au) is up :). the ao3 link is here

[outerjjbx]

Ship: jjpope/mayward

Words: 1.5k (multichap, i’ll be posting the first chapter here and the rest on ao3)

Ao3 link: right here

Summary: library au. pope works at the library, and jj asks for help studying.

Pope likes his job.

He does, really. It’s just- frustrating, sometimes. The stupid teenagers; the mountains of books the owner makes him stay behind to stack; that musty smell that makes him sneeze every three seconds. It can be okay, of course. He’s always loved books, and he’s always dreamed of working at a library. It just isn’t what he expected.

Between college, studying, and taking care of his dumbass roommate, he hardly has enough time for work. After the first week, the ‘wow-I-work-at-a-library-and-this-is-straight-out-of-a-romance-novel’ magic wore off, and was replaced with stress, dust, and piles of unsorted books. And, worst of all, other students from his school come in constantly, and all he can do is keep his head down and pray they don’t see him.

Pope, unfortunately, is not a very lucky person.

He’s just about ready to die when he hears his name get called by someone he definitely recognises. The blonde from his history class is sitting at a table in the corner, waving him over. Pope feels his stomach churn uncomfortably as he approaches, his hands growing sweaty as he take’s JJ’s appearance in. His eyelashes are highlighted by the sun, much like his hair, and his bruised knuckles are flexing as his fingers strum nervously against the table. Pope's mouth is dry. He fucking hates how attracted he is to this guy.

“Hey, P,” JJ smiles- all teeth, no eyes. Fake for the sake of charm. “I didn’t know you work here.”

Pope grimaces. “Enough with the nicknames, please.”

“Isn’t Pope already a nickname?” JJ grins, bringing a beaten up pen to his lips and leaning back in his chair. He lifts his foot up to the table to balance himself, the action striking the other’s blood cold.

“No feet on the table,” Pope almost-sneers, swiping at the blond’s boots. “You aren’t even reading anything. Why are you here?”

JJ holds a hand to his heart. “I’m totally reading.” He reaches across the table, picking up an old-looking textbook for their history class. “Studying, actually. Why don’t you join me?”

Pope narrows his eyes. “Seriously? Bye, JJ.”

“Wait!” the blond calls as Pope turns. “I need help studying, okay? I came here for some quiet, but I can’t concentrate. I just- I’m gonna fail midterms if I don’t get this done. I’m already behind in, like, a bajillion classes. Please, man.”

Pope pauses. “If you wanna pass, you should stop fucking around in class. I see you with John B in the back. You’re super annoying, by the way. Some of us are here to, like, get college degrees, so we can get jobs. We’re not all trust-fund sons here on Daddy’s money.”

“I’m not rich, if that’s what you’re implying,” JJ scoffs, looking almost offended.

Pope shakes his head. “No way you got here on a scholarship.”

“Okay, I won’t take any offence from that,” JJ says. “You make a fair point. The dean paid for my tuition. A special, 100% discount. Just for me.”

Pope furrows his eyebrows. “What, did you blackmail her? Did you sell her meth or something?”

“She’s my mom, dude. Chill,” JJ laughs.

Pope tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters when JJ laughs. “So you are rich,” he deadpans.

JJ rolls his eyes. “Nah, she just owes me. I grew up in North Carolina, in the Outer Banks. Right in the shitty part, like the lucky bastard I am.”

Pope can’t help the way that piques his interest. “Really? I grew up on the coast there, I visited the Outer Banks a few times.” He shuffles his feet, his posture relaxing by the tiniest degree. “How is your mom the dean here, though? She’s been at this school, for, like, decades.”

“Fifteen years, actually,” JJ corrects, pointing a finger. “Can you help me study now? I’ll put a good word in with my mom. Then you can, like, be at the top of all your classes and fulfil all your nerdy dreams. What do you even wanna be?”

“A mortician,” Pope replies. “I’m really into forensic scien-“

“A mortician?” JJ interrupts, a laugh strung along with his words. “What the fuck? That’s the grossest shit ever. I thought morticians were people who just, like, failed at being real-people doctors.”

Pope grits his teeth. “Dead people are real people. It’s a respectable and interesting science. You probably wanna be a MacDonald’s worker or something, anyway.”

“A MacDonald’s worker?” JJ scoffs, holding a hand to his chest “Pope, I’m offended! Am I not currently attending this prestigious university? The very same one that you attend?”

Pope raises his eyebrows, his head tilting downwards. “Yeah, but my mom isn’t the dean. I think we got in for vastly different reasons.”

“Vastly different- Pope! Why must you injure me so? My pride, it’s just… falling apart, at your very feet!” JJ exclaims, throwing his head back and rocking in his chair. He pauses, palm resting upwards on his forehead in a dramatic pose. “Will you pick it up for me? It’s just- it’s right over there. I don’t think I could manage.” He motions to the floor, where the sun highlights a soft rainfall of dust.

Pope scowls. “Fuck you, JJ. You can study by yourself.” He turns on his heel, his blood pumping unsteadily in his ears.

He hears a clatter behind him. “Wait, Pope! Shit, one second-” there’s another few crashes, sounds Pope doesn’t want to dignify with his eyes. “Pope, man, come on. Do me a favour.” JJ pauses, the library falling silent for one small, sweet moment. “Please?”

Pope presses his palms to his eyes and exhales sharply before turning around. “Why should I help you? You’re annoying, you’re rude, you don’t care about school-” he looks past JJ’s shoulder, where his chair is tipped over next to a pile of fallen books. “-and you’ve made a mess in my library, that I have to clean up.”

“I’ll clean that up. I promise.” As if to prove it, JJ takes a step back, without actually doing anything to fix the mess.

Pope blinks, unimpressed and growing more frustrated by the second. “Why do you even need help?”

JJ stares for a moment, eyes trailing along the shelf behind Pope’s head, as if avoiding his gaze. “I’m dyslexic.”

Pope nearly laughs. “So? Dysexic people can read. And study. I don’t see the problem.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t-” JJ pauses, motioning vaguely with his hand. “I didn’t, like, learn how to.”

Pope tilts his head. He’s trying his best to look condescending, but he’s afraid he’s failing miserably. “Your mother is the dean. The college has plenty of resources that can help you more than I can. Your old schools should have, too.”

“My old schools?” JJ repeats, eyebrows raised. “Pope, bro, you should know me well enough to know I never went there. And my mom doesn’t know, so I can’t use the ‘resources’ she apparently has anyway.”

Pope scoffs. “Your mom, the dean, doesn’t know that you’re dyslexic? Are you seriously making a learning disorder up just to annoy me?”

“I am not!” JJ exclaims, brow furrowing. A few strands of hair fall in front of his eyes, making Pope’s mouth go dry. “I was diagnosed in, like, the third grade. But my mom doesn’t know. And she can’t know.”

“Why not?” Pope asks. His voice catches, and he’s ready to drop dead if he doesn’t compose himself.

JJ waves his hand. “It doesn’t matter. But I have to pass if I wanna stay here. Can you just- help me out? Just this once?” He interlocks his fingers, twisting them uncomfortably, his purple knuckles flexing as his fingers twist. “I won’t bother you again. I promise.”

Pope considers running away for a moment. Just- running away. Turning on his heel and abandoning his responsibilities. But he’s getting paid minimum wage to be here, in this too-loud, too-messy, too-annoying library, and he’s worked hard for it. To be at this school, to be in this very building.

And JJ, the apparent son of the dean, wouldn’t be a bad person to get behind. Perhaps he’s annoying as he is blonde, and his eyes are prettier than they should be, and his stupid, worn-out boots make Pope want to stomp like a misbehaving child, but he’s the son of the dean, and Pope wouldn’t mind being on her good side.

“Will you put in a good word for me? To your mom?” he asks. He may as well take advantage of the opportunity.

JJ seems taken aback. “Yeah! Yeah, of course, of course. I’ll tell her all about you, put a good word in. And you’ll help me?”

Pope sighs. He clenches his teeth, jaw working as he hesitates to reply. After a considerable silence, he speaks. “Fine. But- don’t be annoying, okay? And stop rocking in your chair, you’ll break it.”

JJ grins, eyes sparkling, and runs a hand through his hair. “Great, man. I have my history book with me now, but if you’re still working I can, like, chill out. Or whatever.” He smiles, properly this time, like he’s been saving it until now.

Pope is definitely going to regret this.

[outerjjbx]

no bc literally

im bisexual which means i ship jj with both kiara and pope

[outerjjbx]

anyway im back after like a year bc obx2 came out. i was planning a bunch of jjpope fics and couple jiara ones, so lets hope this motivation keeps up. wish me luck lmao

[outerjjbx]

the terms ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ dont apply to cis straight people. they are queer terms. stop interchanging them with ‘sub’ and ‘dom’ and please shut up.

[outerjjbx]

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesn’t

[outerjjbx]

boobs or butt

why would you not do this anonymously. anyway both i luv me some women 🐌

[outerjjbx]

Welcome to the first jiara event of 2021!

Let’s make the most of this hiatus by continuing to fill it with as much jiara content as we can! 

The concept is simple: 

Above are 7 au gif’s created from Maddie and Rudy’s other projects, consider them your prompts. Over the course of the event post a fic (or more) to ao3, tumblr, or your platform of choice. There is no specific day for each prompt as we wanted to have a more low key event to kick off the year. Your fic can be as loosely based on the gifs as you like, let them inspire you but there is no need to stick to them, you can write one fic or seven. You can use one gif per fic, or two, or seven! The world is your oyster. 

Make it jiara. Make it au. And have fun. Other than that, do what you want!

Non-writers are more than welcome to reply/reblog this post with their ideas, you never know it may spark something for someone.

Don’t forget to tag #jiarajanuary2021 and add your fic to the jiara January 2021 collection on tumblr! Looking forward to seeing all your wonderfull work. 

[outerjjbx]

you know what’s sad? how hard it is to write from pope’s perspective. like, the writers literally gave him nothing. wanting a scholarship isn’t a whole personality. it isn’t even a personality trait. i want backstory, and realistic angst (his breakdown was completely out of character. yes, he should have been upset, but they just wanted to turn him into a mess for the sake of the finale drama). i know i talk about this too much, but it’s what needs to be said. i literally could not confidently tell you what pope heyward’s personality is. smart, sometimes sarcastic? reasonable? mature? i deadass do not know. and that’s not because i haven’t been paying attention, it’s because the writers don’t tell us. he’s just the designated Smart And Mature One.

[outerjjbx]

i really wish they’d give pope more depth and character development. him, jj and kiara are all my favourite characters, but jj’s the only one with actual depth. all they gave to pope and kie is “i’m smart but poor and need a scholarship” and “i hate sarah cameron and am rich”. i hope they give both pope and kie more screentime and independent storylines, and give them more personality and all that. i’m sick of poc characters being treated like conveniences that are only around to boost the white characters’ stories.

one of my (many) nightmares for s2 is that they make pope do the whole “something bad happened so now i’m gonna give up on my dreams and act like someone i’m not”

[outerjjbx]

i wanna write mayward so bad but i deadass can’t think of shit

[outerjjbx]

No one’s saying this so I guess I’ve gotta: no more shirtless scenes for men if the actors gotta starve himself. Its just as bad as woman being forced to lose weight for a needless sex scene/photoshoot what have you. If it endangers the health of the individual it should not be encouraged.

[outerjjbx]

Mayward Week 2020

Day 7: free choice

Songfic: You Were Drunk by Anthony Amorim

Pope stares at the hammock, watching smoke curl around JJ’s figure and twist into the trees. The blond is laughing, telling a story Pope isn’t paying attention to. He usually hangs onto to every one of JJ’s words, hooked on the way they spill from his lips like they’re desperate to get out, but this time is different. All Pope can focus on is that smoke, that God-forsaken smoke, and the way it spills out just like the words do, like a visual representation of JJ’s thoughts.

He usually hates it when JJ smokes weed. He hates it when any of his friends do, really. He thinks it’s stupid. Why would they risk getting caught by a cop that already hates them, just for a few minutes of dazed oblivion? They’re crazy when they’re high, too, especially JJ. Apparently weed is supposed to relax people, but it does the opposite to JJ. He bounces of the walls when he’s high.

This time is different. He’s just swaying in the hammock, one hand holding the joint near his head while the other brushes by the beer on the ground almost protectively. His head is craned, eyes closed as he speaks. The moonlight is reflecting off of the water, dotting it with white specks and making it almost indistinguishable from the night sky. JJ seems as if he’s just floating in space, completely at peace.

Time passes too fast, and Pope spends the entire time staring at JJ. He doesn’t realise how long it’s been until John B and Kiara are already inside, probably passed out, and JJ is staring back.

“Hey, man,” the blond grins. “Can you- can you get me another beer from the cooler? I’m all out.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” Pope replies, forcing a chuckle into his words.

JJ shrugs and lets out a heavy breath. “I’m- you- can you come here?”

Pope blanks, barely processing the words. “What?”

“Come here,” JJ repeats. “I want- I mean, I’m cold. Just come here.”

Pope stares for a few more seconds, this time trying to decipher what exactly JJ is asking for. He brushes aside his confusion and stands, making his way towards his friend. He’s about to climb into the hammock with his head on the opposite side of JJ’s; how they usually are, but a hand around his wrist stops him.

JJ blinks slowly. Pope thinks of a cat, and how they blink slowly when they trust people. Pope isn’t sure if JJ trusts him, though. Not when still insists on lying about the dried blood on his lower lip and the purple splatter of a bruise on his cheekbone.

“Can you-” JJ hesitates, struggling to get the words out. Instead, he motions to the space beside him.

Pope’s breath catches in his throat. He freezes, unsure of what to do, before nodding and falling into the space beside JJ. His heart is racing, his hands trembling. JJ looks calm as he rolls over, his face resting on Pope’s shoulder.

They stay like that for a few minutes. Pope is telling himself to relax, relax, relax, because he wants to enjoy this, but all he can do is lay tensely as JJ breathes against the fabric of his shirt. They’ve always been affectionate, always been close, but this is different. This isn’t JJ kissing his cheek to tease him or wrapping an arm around his shoulders. This is different.

Different is scary. JJ is drunk and high, too out of it to feel awkward, and Pope is almost jealous of him. He would do anything to just calm down and enjoy being so close to the most beautiful person in the world.

“I want to kiss you,” JJ mumbles.

Pope nearly chokes, his voice hoarse as he speaks. “You- you what?”

JJ continues as if he never even heard him, his words slurred. “Have for a while. You’re- you’re so pretty, Pope.”

Pope feels his heart seize uncomfortably, and for a moment he’s pretty sure he’s about to pass out. There are butterflies in his throat, choking him, stopping him from speaking, but he doesn’t even know what he could say.

JJ lifts his head and Pope turns his, and suddenly their noses are almost touching. Pope can still smell the smoke he was so infatuated with earlier. That’s what draws him back to reality, and he closes his eyes, exhaling softly as his muscles loosen.

“Can I kiss you?” JJ asks, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Pope wants to reply. He wants to say yes, to nod, to do anything, but all he manages is opening his mouth, his words stuck on his tongue. JJ seems to understand, though, because JJ always understands, and leans forward until their lips meet.

JJ kisses gently, carefully, and Pope feels himself get lost in it. He’s fallen into JJ’s oblivion, into the peace he feels among the stars. His heart bursts into flowery flames, and it’s the same feeling as when he successfully rode his first wave, or when he gets 100 on a test, but still so much better. It’s indescribable, and his mind is racing as he searches for any logical definition for whatever the fuck he is feeling.

They break for air but return without a second thought. They’re working in synch now, together, and it feels like they can read each others’ minds. Pope doesn’t even have to think about it as he opens his mouth; as JJ slides his fingers into his hair; as he rolls on top of the blond, his leg slotted between JJ’s.

Pope’s never made out with anyone before. He expected it to be awkward, to be bumped-noses and bitten lips. But everything with JJ has always been so natural, so smooth, that it almost feels as if this is a daily occurrence. He cards his hands through JJ’s hair, tightens against the strands, and genuinely feels as if he’s ascended to heaven.

They pull away, both out of breath. Pope’s eyes are wide and calculating, trying to memorise every aspect of the blond’s face. JJ’s are the opposite; hooded, concentrated on the way the moonlight reflects off of Pope’s irises, completely at peace.

“Cool,” JJ whispers, and his just-kissed lips spread into a smile, and Pope is reminded of just how drunk his friend is.

His heart is heavy as he grits his teeth and swallows, feeling dread set in his chest as he wonders what will happen next. JJ is a blackout drunk. He does impulsive things, things he always regrets. He rants, or he cuddles, or, apparently, he makes out with his friends.

JJ isn’t going to kiss Pope when he’s sober. And if he remembers what they did, he might not even talk to him. What if they’ve fucked everything up? What if Pope has fucked everything up? He isn’t nearly as gone as JJ. He’s a little buzzed, and he’s probably going to wake up with a headache, but he knew what he was doing when he leant in. What if JJ didn’t?

A shiver runs down Pope’s spine. He’s still staring at JJ, but it’s gone from awestruck to panicked. He isn’t sure if the blond has noticed; he hopes he hasn’t. Pope blinks and inhales deeply, letting the oxygen blossom in his lungs and untie the knot of anxiety in his chest. He can worry about this later. He doesn’t have to think about it yet. Right now, in the hammock, in a sea of stars, he doesn’t have to think at all.

Pope forces a light chuckle and lets his head fall to the space between JJ’s shoulder and jaw. “Cool.”

“I’m so tired,” JJ mumbles, voice low.

“Me too,” Pope agrees, eyelids growing heavy. He somehow feels both awake and asleep; both energised and exhausted. He breathes in JJ’s scent, the strong smell of weed and surfboard wax now comforting, and lets himself relax into it.

The hammock sways, the breeze rocking them both into deep, comfortable sleeps. They lay together, protected by cicadas and the soft sounds of the water behind them. For a few hours, as their breathing matches and they dream of one another, angry fathers and scholarship deadlines don’t matter.

Nothing matters until the morning, when JJ flinches awake, and Pope has to open his eyes. It takes a moment to think and remember through the pounding in his skull, and once he does, he practically falls out of the hammock.

JJ does the same. They stand there for a moment, on opposite sides, breathing heavily. JJ’s eyes are darting around, flicking between the hammock, Pope, the hammock, Pope, and again and again.

“Do you remember?” Pope asks, voice scratchy and rough from sleep.

“I-” JJ pauses, and he stills for just a moment. Pope can tell that he’s thinking it over, milling every option and outcome he can conjure. He looks up. “No.”

He’s lying. Pope knows he’s lying, and it hurts more than he thought it would. He nods and twists around the trees, making his way towards the Chateau. He passes Kiara on the pullout and eyes John B in his room, both of them sleeping peacefully.

The bathroom is small and dirty, but it’s enough for Pope to slide against the wall and rest his head in his hands. He breathes consciously, in and out, in and out, in and out, and focuses on that. He’s been through this so many times, freaking out on John B’s bathroom floor over fucking JJ, but this time is different. It’s always JJ doing something reckless, something stupid, something dangerous.

But it’s not so different, is it? JJ is impulsive. He does things without thinking them through. He never thinks things through. Pope is supposed to be the one that stops things, that keeps his friends in check. So why didn’t he this time?

He’s selfish. He’s selfish enough to kiss back, to not put an end to it, to not be sensible enough to realise that kissing Pope was just another one of JJ’s stupid decisions. He doesn’t know how they’re supposed to come back from this. How they’re ever going to be the same.

It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. Pope is slipping, collapsing, breaking, and it’s his own fault. JJ was drunk. He didn’t know what he was doing. Pope was more sober than him. He was more conscious. He was more capable of stopping them.

JJ was drunk.