#John Ames Mitchell

[thefugitivesaint]

John Ames Mitchell (1845-1918), 'From The Depths', ''Appeal To Reason'', #579, Dec. 29, 1906

[zivazivc]

“Floyd, could you sing to me?”

The big brother looked up from where he was tucking the blanket under Branch’s feet. “Sure thing,” he said with a light smile.  “What would you like to hear? A lullaby?”

“I don’t know,” Branch mumbled as he nestled his head into the pillow. “You choose.”

Floyd could still see a crease of worry between his baby brother’s brows. He softly brushed a thumb over it in a silent reassurance that everything was going to be okay before he turned around to reach for their dad’s old guitar.

I think Floyd would often sing to Branch to get him to fall asleep, usually the songs and lullabies their parents sang when the older four were still little.

I know in the movie it seemed like they all left right after their fight, but I like to imagine that they just stormed off to cool off and that they actually left in the following days. And that this was the last song Floyd sang for Branch that night. :')

Both Sides Now (specifically this cover by Voncken) Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I've looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They snow and rain on everyone So many things I would've done But clouds got in the way I've looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down, and still somehow It's clouds’ illusions, I recall I really don't know clouds at all Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels The dizzy dancin' way you feel When every fairy tale comes real I've looked at love that way But now it's just another show You leave 'em laughin' as you go And if you care, don't let them know Don't give yourself away I've looked at love from both sides now From give and take, and still somehow It's love's illusions, I recall I really don't know love at all Tears and fears and feeling proud To say "I love you" right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds I've looked at life that way But now my friends, they’re acting strange They shake their heads, and say I've changed Well, something's lost, but something's gained In living life each day I've looked at life from both sides now From up and down And give and take And win and lose, and still somehow It's life's illusions, I recall I really don't know life... I really don't know life at all

[beeboomachine]

i recently noticed that most of the music i really like comes from the 70s, so here's a poll asking which decade you think either has the best music or when most of your favorite music was made!

feel free to include in the tags your fave artists albums and songs that helped you make your choice!!

[cashmere-caveman]

[1] Richard Siken, Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light [2] Being Human S1E5 [3] Clint Smith, When people say, “we have made it through worse before” [4] Being Human S3E8 [5] Guillermo del Toro at the 2018 Golden Globes [6] Being Human S1E6 [7] Allie X, Fresh Laundry [8] Being Human S1E5 [9] Christian Wiman, The Parable of Perfect Silence [10] Being Human S3E8 [11] Hanif Abdurraqib, And What Good Will Your Vanity Be When The Rapture Comes [12] Being Human S2E8 [13] Allie X, Fresh Laundry [14] Heidi Priebe, To Love Someone Long-term Is To attend A Thousand Funerals of The People They Used To Be [16] Being Human S3E8 [17] Christian Wiman, Flight

[sarcasmchandlerbing]

Some Leafs players collages

[companion-showdown]

Option 1 was suggested by @intodarknes

Option 2 was suggested by anonymous

The generic line up will be changed to include companions who have been specifically requested (their may be other changes depending on the tournament, for example option 1 would be a whole new line up, or including robots who don't wear clothes wouldn't make sense in a tournament judging fashion)

Lucie Miller will replace Josie Day (requested by @thenugking)

Hex Schofield will replace Sabalom Glitz (requested by @thenugking)

Alison Cheney will replace Kate Stewart (requested by anonyomous)

If you want to suggest a companion you'd like to join the general line up or just the line up to a specific tournament, either leave it in the notes of this post (or any really, but for the purposes of me being able fo find it easily it'd be nice if you left it here), or send me an ask. This includes anyone who I've swapped out, who you think should stay. I'm especially interested in almost / could have been companions, theres so many I'm sure I'll miss your favourite whenever we eventually get round to that tournament

If you'd like to suggest a tournament then similarly

You can find all suggested tournaments, my ideas, and requested companions under the tag #future tournament ideas

[fuckyeahelijahwoodfan]

Elijah, Christina and John Cameron Mitchell on set dancing 😍 behind the buzz ep7 🥰🥰🥰I love this so much .

[gremlinbehaviour]

At first, Mitchell thought Annie just made tea because she didn’t know what to do with herself and sure, that was probably part of it, because what was more stereotypical than that. But after he kissed her, he put it together pretty quickly. She was chilled, like someone just come in from the rain, and after that he said that, he noticed that she never put the cups of tea down until they’d cooled. But they cooled fast, and every single surface and mug quickly filled up with cold tea or coffee, or sometimes just hot water if they ran out of both of those.

“Hey, what’s this for?” Annie asked as he draped a blanket over her shoulders as she sat on the couch.

“Just, uh, you looked cold,” he said, plopping down next to her and flipping on the tv. 

“Oh, uh, thanks, but blankets don’t really help,” she said. “I don’t have any body heat to hold in.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “I’d offer a cuddle then, but I’m not much warmer than you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay then. I’m not actually that cold anyway.” Annie smiled at him though, bright and warm as ever, and pulled the blanket a little tighter around her. It’s nice, comforting, even if it doesn’t do anything.

A week later, Mitchell brings home an electric blanket.

[youlooklikeabeeandilikebees]

omg it literally took me 10 years to realize that constable wilson is human and not a vampire. i'm so used to being human characters who have power in society being vampires i was just like he's a vampire. i literally thought mitchell ate him just to show dominance or something lol

[joellesolo]

I just had my first assessment with the neuropsychologist to see if I’m autistic. I go back tomorrow for another couple hours of testing. I’m exhausted and he was like, oh TOMORROW is when it gets hard and I was like, uh excuse me THIS PAST HOUR WAS HARD.

I maybe made the mistake of telling him he reminds me of John Crichton from Farscape (and also a little bit of Cameron Mitchell from SG1; on the whole, just very Ben Browder-y vibes from him but in a good way) and he didn’t know who I was talking about but took it as a compliment. Which is how I intended it, thankfully. 

But like... is that weird, to tell your new doctor who’s testing you for autism, he reminds you of a character from a weird 90′s sci fi no ones heard of?? I feel like it’s weird.

[miss-jane-doe]

None of this was your fault. Anything that happened would have happened a lot sooner and a lot worse if I hadn't have met you.

BHUK S3E1

“Just come back.”

[pistachi0art]

I thought of a completely nonsensical idea with Aubrey, John Freeman and, Mitchell Shepherd (YES, from HDTF) in a little group hanging out. Secondary Non-canonical sibling of main character squad. ✨

(Although this goes into a question whether a younger female clone is to be considered as a younger sister or daughter in this case. I’ve been leaning more to daughter but now that I think about it more, Barney would definitely treat her more like a younger sibling.)

[old-man-hell]

john aprea as Mr. Tevere and mitch gaylord as Steve Tevere in American Anthem (1986)

tw: violence, abuse below the cut:

[cashmere-caveman]

Herakles, Euripides (Tr. Anne Carson) | Being Human, S2E8 "All God's Children" | The End of Poetry, Ada Limón | The Blind Leading the Blind, Liesel Mueller | Flight, Christian Wiman

[rthko]

I recently saw a post with Fran Lebowitz saying, "a book isn't supposed to be a mirror; it's supposed to be a door," and it made me think about the state of "representation" discourse online. I thought back to an anon I once received from someone who claims to get "secondhand embarrassment" from "drag queens, leather daddies, and kinksters with pup hoods acting like they represent all gays." Many thought my response was too harsh, that I ought to show more sympathy to people who do not "relate" to nor feel "represented" by these modes of queer being. Blame it on online fandom, blame it on heteronormativity, but we are too concerned with "relatability." It is the sort of "relatability" advertising executives concern themselves with, or "relatability" of people who treat their online presence as a "brand." It is a notion I find alien to queer art and culture.

I have never done drag, nor do I consider myself a part of the leather community beyond befriending others who do and owning some gear. I do not "relate" to these expressions in any vulgar, literal sense, but they are still deeply resonant. And how many of these individuals truly "relate" to the images they peform? Drag artists and leatherfolk are purveyors of fantasy. In their daily lives, they might not be bikers, rockstars, pop divas, or mythical beasts, but they reinvent themselves through metaphors and performances. These theatrical performances are no more absurd than the quotidian performances expected by cis straight society. Larry Mitchell writes, “The faggots act out their fantasies without believing them to be real. The men act out their fantasies always proclaiming that they are real."

This could explain why literal attempts at relatability are often less resonant than campy extravogant fantasies. I once wrote a rant about how Taylor Swift is not a gay icon, and an anon smugly told me, "Taylor makes music for everyone and not just gays." Yes, I suppose she does make music for "everyone," in the same way that the Midwestern weather reporter voice is the universal accent of the English speaking world. But diva worship was never about "relating;" rather, it's about survival through the evocation of patron saints of strength and glamor. Most celebrity or mass media attempts at "relatability" are at best clueless or at worst insulting. I would much rather participate in a campy fantasy, which is in its own right more "real." Susan Sontag describes camp as the "farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.”

I am not telling anyone to stop pushing for the recognition of diverse stories. This is crucial! But the recognition of queer stories should also come with an understanding of queer modes of resonance. When has John Waters ever produced something "relatable?" Who cares? His work resonates, in fact, more than a lot of "safe" gay media that should be all accounts be more "relatable." The "average" listener would not necessarily relate to SOPHIE. They may find her work otherwordly or downright unsettling. But she did not produce music for the "average" listener, at least not before the rest of the musical landscape dragged to catch up with her. Adam Zmith writes: "Inside SOPHIE’s words, performances and final act is the queer utopia of always grasping, always dreaming of a freer life." We are living the wildest dreams of our former, closeted selves, but we are still always grasping, never quite satiated. Queer art is not just autobiographical but aspirational. Let art be a door.

[raribella]

To Say “I Love You” Right Out Loud | JJ Maybank

summary: JJ revisits his childhood and how he grew up with you through every side of life until he finally understands why this makes you so special

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: fluff, a spark of angst

contains: a combo of “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell and Love Actually (2003), mentions of death and child abuse. John B and JJ are childhood friends in this. I don’t know how to write dialogue. Drug usage (beer, weed).

word count: 6k

author’s note: I was immediately triggered by Joni’s astonishing performance at the Grammy’s and by remembering that the song is in one of my favorite movies. This is my favorite fanfiction I’ve probably ever written and I put so much time and love into this I really hope you like it.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

Rows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air; and feather canyons everywhere. I looked at clouds that way. But now they only block the sun, they rain and they snow on everyone; so many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way.

College had finally ended. They had finally done it. Against all odds and contrary to the expectations of others, the pogues were finally free to embark on their own paths. And so, they gathered for one last celebration, a bonfire near the Cat's Ass, surrounded by shotguns, snacks, and reminiscing in the familiar feeling of just being together.

Spreading themselves along the space at the Chateau's yard, most of them ended up divided the comfortable water at the tub and the warmth of the fire, their laughter mingling with the sound of running water as they shared stories of what each of them could remember of their time roaming the Outer Banks as this fearless gang; the sentiment of each flashback was being intensified from the time they spent apart. As they were the pogues, it was not like their time together was abruptly interrupted, but the responsibilities and the minor distance happened during college, and they couldn't run away from it's effects; but the memories of those days seemed tattooed into their hearts and minds as they could recall every moment in lighthearted detail.

In a corner of the Cat's Ass, JJ found himself lost in a sea of memories, surrounded by the comforting embrace of his friends. You sat beside him in the water, the coolness soothing against your skin, while Cleo and Pope nestled comfortably at his other side. Outside, John B, Sarah, and Kie laughed and joked, their voices carrying on the night breeze. As he watched them, a faint, nostalgic smile tugged at the corners of JJ's lips, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared history, thinking back on how far they had come. They had started as a trio—himself and the Routledge twins, bound together by fate and circumstance.

The tree of you lay sprawled out on the sand for what seemed like hours, your eyes tracing the ever-changing shapes that danced across the sky. Castles, pirates, turtles—your imaginations ran wild, weaving tales of adventure and intrigue as you watched the clouds drift lazily overhead. At nine years old, you had joined your brother and JJ just a few moments ago, after spending the afternoon at a friend's house watching a Christmas movie, "Love Actually," with her mother.

As you settled into the sand, JJ couldn't resist a playful jab at the movie, dismissing it as a "dumb chick flick." his mind still floated between that child-like distaste of girls and the appreciation of you tagging along with him and John B back then. You swatted at him, your tiny arms barely reaching his chest, but it only elicited a smirk from the blond pogue. It was nice for you to actually share a moment with a nurturing figure at the absence of your own mom, who had just recently left for Colorado. Besides, you had eaten a whole bag of M&M's that she bought for you to share and you really liked the movie, even if it was funny how sometimes Mia's mom would tell you to close your eyes, your ears, or how sometimes you didnt really catch why she was laughing at some weird scene. You just rolled your eyes and brushed JJ's comment off, suggesting the sky gazing then relishing in the opportunity to spend time with him and your brother.

Your days were often filled with moments like this, carefree and full of laughter, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. JJ's mother would eventually come to fetch the three of you, ushering you inside for sweet treats and cozy nights spent squeezed together in JJ's tiny room. Or you'd spend hours playing in the grass, watching as the river met the sea, until Big John's bell rang out, signaling the end of another day. You would get home covered in dirt, JJs hair color nearing yours and your brothers, so you would have a nice shower and come out to your dad telling treasure tales and making you hot chocolate.

One day, as Big John finished building a set of three swings for you, JJ's parents arrived. Standing side by side, the couple had brought beer and peanuts to complement what your dad already had inside for the night. That day, you were playing for hours, your small frame struggling to mount the swing until the duo stepped in to help. John B had made a mess while trying to help you hop on, and  JJ stepped forward to push you, but in excited haste, he pushed too hard, and you tumbled to the ground, scraping your knee. As your first cry pierced the air, the adults rushed to your side, JJ's mother soothing your pain with stinging medicine and comforting words.

In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of JJ, guilt etched on his face as he watched you wince in pain. But your brother nudged him, urging him to shake off his guilt and claiming that this was just a mere blip in the larger scale of the adventure you lived today.

And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the beach, Luke took charge, setting a bonfire ablaze near the ancient tree in the backyard. The flames flickered casting shadows that stretched out against the sand. You gathered around the fire, marshmallows in hand to be skewered and toasted, laughter filled the air and echoed into the night. The hours slipped away unnoticed, so as the night wore on and the fire burned low, reluctantly, you bid farewell to your blonde friend as he left with his parents.

The life you lived was simple; living in the less fortunate side of the island, you couldnt really enjoy much more than moments like these; the food wasn't fancy, the drinks weren't expensive, your houses weren't pretty and big, so you relied mostly in home made playthings and your own imagination, but you were happy that way; the youthful innocence made all the diferences between you and the kooks be seen with rose coloured glasses, and while in the company of your brother, your best friend, and the team of parents that you saw as guardian angels, it all just seemed warm. It seemed like it would be fine.

One day, though, just as the sky turns cloudy at the end of summer, signaling the onset of storm season, JJ's demeanor shifted, casting a shadow over his usual brightness. At fourteen now, he had been seeming distant and preoccupied at school for weeks, until one day after class, he reached out to you with a heavy heart. Fidgeting nervously, his hands clammy and cold, he confided in you about his mother's illness, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air. Knowing how much his mother meant to you both, he sought solace in sharing his burden with you, trusting you with his vulnerability. "Mumma's sick, I think... been in the hospital for a while now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't visit because I'm not sixteen yet... I- I wanted you to know, but you can't tell John B." And as you hugged him, you promised to keep his secret, the first one you kept just between the two of you.

And as JJ clung to you and John B in the solemn silence of the cemetery, the stark reality of their loss weighed heavily upon you, casting a shadow over your once bright and colorful world.. JJ's mother's absence lingered like a specter in their home, his father grappled with the weight of his grief, seeking solace in alcohol and spiraling into a downward spiral of despair. The once vibrant hues of their family life began to fade, replaced by the darkness of addiction and aggression. JJ watched helplessly as his father's temper flared more frequently, his outbursts leaving scars both physical and emotional. The sanctuary of their home became a battleground, each day a struggle to navigate the minefield of his father's unpredictable moods.

In the aftermath of his mother's passing and the turmoil within his home, JJ withdrew into himself, building walls around his heart that even his closest friends struggled to breach. He became increasingly unreachable, his once vibrant presence dimmed by the weight of his grief and the scars of his father's aggression. Some days, he would disappear altogether, only to reappear with a purple eye hidden beneath dark glasses, a silent testament to the struggles he faced behind closed doors. And when he did show up, his demeanor was somber, his face etched with a perpetual frown as he rejected activities he once enjoyed. Even cloudgazing at the beach became a source of frustration for JJ, as he lamented the impending rain or the end of summer, his words tinged with bitterness and resignation. As you and your brother looked on, helpless in the face of his pain, you could only watch as JJ retreated further into himself, the vibrant colors of his spirit muted by the shadows that engulfed him.

The tension crackled in the air as you confronted JJ, frustration bubbling to the surface like a storm about to break. "Why won't you just watch 'Love Actually' with me, like, once? It'd help distracting you, y'know!?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "You can't keep avoiding fun, JJ. You can't lose hope and light just because things are tough."

But JJ's response was sharp, his tone laced with bitterness. "Those things are for kooks, y/n" he retorted, his words heavy with the weight of his pain. "Pogues can't afford to indulge in luxuries like love and hope. We have to focus on surviving you know."

Your heart sank at his words, feeling the distance between you grow with each passing moment. "If you really look for it, JJ," you countered softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've got a sneaky feeling that love is all around. Even for us Pogues." But JJ's expression remained hardened, his walls firmly in place as he turned away, the gap between you widening with each step he took.

John B stepped in a while later, his voice calm but firm as he defended his friend. "He's been through a lot," John B interjected, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of empathy and understanding. "Give him time, he'll come around. I know he will."

But despite John B's reassurances, the weight of your worry and frustration bore down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you sought solace in the arms of your father, tears streaming down your cheeks as you poured out your heart. "I didn't mean to be petty," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "But I'm just so worried about how Luke has been treating JJ. I miss him, Dad. I miss the way things used to be." And as your father held you close, comforting whispers soothing your troubled mind, you cried yourself to sleep, longing for the comfort of simpler times and the warmth of JJ's presence by your side.

A few days after the heated exchange, JJ found himself drawn to the familiar solace of the beach. As he laid alone on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves echoing in the background, he cast his gaze upward, chuckling at the shifting shapes and colors of the clouds above. Yet, amidst the tranquility of the moment, a pang of longing stirred within him.

Reflecting on recent events, JJ realized that he had begun to see clouds from two distinct perspectives—from the highs and lows of life's tumultuous journey. But amidst the solitude, his mind drifted to an understanding; to how he seemed to have looked at clouds like this from two different perspectives now, from up and down, and still he would recall better colorful and elusive memory of your company. He remembered the joy of pointing out funny shapes at the sky with you and your brother, laughter echoing into the vast expanse. It was a memory painted in hues of warmth that contrasted with the darker shades of recent events. In that fleeting moment of recollection, JJ yearned to return to that moment exactly, to say sorry, at least. And alone at that same beach, he felt like he had a perspective of a future for the first time in a long time. He wanted to see if he truly knew clouds at all, or if there was a new side to it.

JJ was abruptly brought back to reality by Pope's punchline of a memory of his own; he was retelling the story of how he met Cleo at college, and how she wouldn't have passed half her subjects f it wasn't for him. As the group erupted into laughter, he did the same to mask the fact that he had zoned out for a minute, but JJ's gaze instinctively sought yours, his heart yearning for the comfort of your smile. And as his eyes met yours, a warmth spread through him, his thoughts drifting to another memory

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels; the dizzy dancing way that you feel as every fairy tale comes real. I've looked at love that way. But now it's just another show, and you leave 'em laughing when you go. And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

At sixteen years old, you had a full understanding of the dizzying, electric sensation that washed over you whenever JJ emerged from the sea, his board in hand. It was a feeling that stirred deep within you, igniting a spark that refused to be extinguished. Yet, despite the intensity of your emotions, uncertainty plagued your heart. You couldn't decipher JJ's true feelings for you; for every significant gesture or word he offered, there was an equal measure of aloofness or distance.

There were moments when JJ's actions spoke volumes, leaving you breathless with hope and anticipation. But just as quickly, he would retreat into himself, leaving you to question whether his affections were genuine or merely fleeting. And then there were the times when he would disappear into the crowd at a kegger, his attention captured by another girl, leaving you to grapple with the ache of unrequited longing.

Fearing the consequences, you kept your emotions hidden from your brother, John B, despite his keen intuition and suspicions about your lingering glances. Instead, you found solace in the companionship of Pope and Kiara, the only other pogue girl. Your friendship with Kiara blossomed rapidly, providing a safe haven where you could confide in her about everything, including the complexities of your feelings for JJ, seeking her guidance and understanding.

In December of that same year, a vivid memory remains etched in your mind—the day JJ was meant to pick you up from work and take you to the Chateau to meet up with the rest of the crew. Kiara had proposed the idea of a secret Santa, with the stipulation that the gifts could only be candy or chocolate—She herself aiming to guarantee that she'd get a bag or two of Sour Patch Kids. As you exited the souvenir shop, clutching your own "Paradise On Earth" cap, you spotted JJ waiting for you by the Twinkie—the van John B claimed would be safer than the bike. With both hands hidden behind his back, you shot him a questioning look. "Hello?" you greeted tilting your head slightly to the side, to which he responded with a playful smile, feigning surprise at seeing you. "Oh, hello ma'am, your carriage is right here!" he exclaimed, extending his arms towards the open door of the van, one hand tightly clutching something that piqued your curiosity. Hopping onto the Twinkie, you couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious object as JJ closed the door and took his place behind the wheel.

During the ride, JJ attempted to coax the name of your secret Santa out of you, but you remained tight-lipped. Upon parking the van at the Chateau, he sat in silence for a few moments, and you studied him intently. "Oh, before I forget," he said non-chalantly, reaching into his pocket and offering you the object he had been concealing—a ceramic lobster adorned with a tiny Christmas hat, clearly crafted by him. "This is for the nativity scene you keep in your room, I just didn't have time to make the other one..." he explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he confessed that he hadn't received your name for the candy exchange but couldn't bear to leave you without a gift.

You stood in awe for a moment, marveling at the thoughtful gesture and the evident reference it held. JJ's apprehension melted away as your eyes met his, a radiant smile spreading across his face. "Wait, wait, wait... Are you trying to tell me that there was more than one lobster at the birth of Jesus?" you quoted, teasingly. JJ rolled his eyes playfully, completing the reference with a loud "duh!" his laughter mingling with yours as you stepped out of the car into the moonlit night, making a lighthearted entrance at the Chateau and eliciting a knowing look from Kiara towards John B.

As time passed, you welcomed Sarah into the fold, introduced by John B with starry-eyed affection that spoke volumes of their budding romance. With the dynamic between her and Kiara settled, John B wasted no time in proudly declaring their relationship to the group—a declaration met with hugs, smiles, and lighthearted jokes about not hurting each other.

One day, Sarah suggested a surf trip to a lesser-known beach nestled between Figure 8 and the Cut, its pristine beauty a sight to behold with crystalline waters and powdery white sand. As you surfed the afternoon away, basking in the warmth of the sun, you found yourself sprawled on the sand along with the rest of the group, supporting yourself on your elbows and catching your breath as you watched JJ roll a joint with practiced ease. "I like this shit," JJ declared, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "We can be neglected misfits or whatever, but I love leading this life with you guys. I don't even care about what people think of me! "long as I have a board and you guys, 'm gonna be saying I'm rich... Especially if I have this!" He gestured towards the joint, his words met with cheers from the group.

Your smile started weak but grew as the group cheered. In that moment, you felt a sense of family, and your appreciation for JJ weighed heavily on your chest. Despite the challenges, he had found a way to see life in a positive light, even after Big John went missing. As the wind blew sea salt into your eyes, you turned your face toward JJ. "Yeah, yeah… you know, I keep saying it… but if you really look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that—"

"Y/n, if I hear that quote just one more time!" Sarah interrupted, and the others joined in with her lighthearted protest.

With time, JJ's behavior became increasingly perplexing since after sharing moments like this, he would leave you alone, retreating into the company of the other Pogues with a suddenness that felt jarring and awkward. His focus would shift, his attention consumed by their own banter, leaving you to wonder where you fit into the equation.

It was during these moments of isolation that doubts crept in, whispering of insecurities and unspoken fears that lingered just beneath the surface. Wondering if you did something wrong, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as you watched JJ immerse himself in the dynamics of the group, his laughter mingling with theirs as you stood on the sidelines, a silent observer to a world that felt increasingly distant and unfamiliar.

One morning, as you shuffled through the Chateau's corridors, the aroma of breakfast lingering in the air as John B shuffled through the kitchen, you noticed JJ's door ajar. You peeked inside with the intention of wishing him a good morning, only to be met with a sight that shattered your makeshift reality of him. JJ hovered over another girl in his bed, their closeness echoing a betrayal that left you speechless.

"Hey, whoa! Sorry!" His voice softened as he realized it was you, not your brother, at the door. The shock on your face was palpable as you hastily pushed the door closed, shaking your head to dispel the image burned into your mind. Stumbling down the corridor, you muttered a distant "morning" to Kie and Pope, who were still groggy on the couch, woken by the commotion.

Throughout the day, both JJ and yourself moved in a state of flustered avoidance, exchanging glances laden with sheepish guilt. JJ's eyes mirrored the remorse of a caught wrongdoer, but you couldn't summon anger; instead, you carried the weight of hurt and confusion, grappling with the realization that he wasn't yours to claim.

As the day waned and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Chateau, you found solace on the hammock. With the remnants of the day lingering, you confided in Sarah about the events, the words tumbling out as the weight on your chest grew heavier. The hammock cradled you in its gentle sway as another day ended, leaving you to confront the tangled emotions that now clouded the once-clear skies of your friendship with JJ.

JJ vividly remembered June of the following year, with your birthday fast approaching. Usually, you wouldn't stop talking about how much you loved having your birthday during the summer, and everyone would plan something special to mark the occasion. Kie and Sarah would always get you fancier gifts, like a new top or necklace, while the boys made sure there was a cake to share, probably under the tree lights at another night spent at the Cat's Ass, chuckling at the stupid name JJ had given to the tub.

But this year was different. You and the girls wouldn't stop talking about this idiotic touron, Jeremy, who had apparently flirted with you when you helped him at the store. Now, your attention seemed solely focused on him, much to JJ's annoyance. He rolled his eyes and huffed aloud whenever Jeremy's name was mentioned, with Pope nudging him to keep his cool.

"He's gonna take me to a summer fair," you grimaced, looking into the mirror as Kiara clasped a necklace around your neck. Sarah and JJ hovered on the kitchen counter, Pope sat on the couch, and your brother leaned against the doorframe of your room with a protective frown on his face. John B always believed you and JJ would end up together, and he felt safe with that perspective because he knew and trusted JJ. But that didn't happen with Jeremy.

Across from him, you, Sarah, and Kie giggled with scenarios and provocations, "What if he brings you a giant teddy bear and tries to win you a goldfish?" Kiara teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Sarah snickered. "I can already picture it!"

Meanwhile, JJ fought to keep a frown from appearing on his own face. He was unwilling to let you know how he really felt about the situation, and he avoided giving his jealousy away to his friends. As you exited laughing with the guy in his car—a godforsaken Jeep, for crying out loud—JJ was still unknowingly clenching his jaw, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown.

Sarah, the only one still outside by now, smiled to herself and snuck up on him before reaching a hand to pat his back. The gesture was meant to silently convey far more than his poisoned mind could grasp at the moment.

He chuckled at that memory; you had to endure a girlfriend of his own during college, and he watched as two or three other guys broke your heart as well—he wanted to go out there and punch them every time, but preferred that only John B externalized that thought. From those memories, he realized he had looked at love from both sides of it with you, from give and take, but years later he wasn't so sure if you'd be keen on the idea of him ever again. JJ turned to you in the tub, whispering, "Where's that lobster I gave you that Christmas?" You were a bit taken aback by his sudden recall but smiled back, mimicking the tone of his voice, "Been keeping it on my bookshelf all year long now."

John B and Sarah were now playfully arguing about the two perspectives from when she joined the group, with Kie tagging along to remind them of how they had to make amends beforehand. It made JJ come back fully into the scene. As he looked around, he realized they were sitting in couples, at least Pope and John B, and he held back a nostalgic smirk at the thought of how his younger self would react to both his old friends now "pussy whipped," stuck in relationships and breaking the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule—he didn't know love at all.

He was different too, at least Kiara said so, coming at him a few days ago before graduation with a whole "you've changed, became more yourself and know how to separate what you went through from what you are, I'm so proud you're opening the surf shop—but please make it eco-friendly" speech. It was nice to look back and realize how his years and moments with the Pogue family kept balancing out all the rest. Now he would open a sick surf shop, Poguelandia flag above it and all, right in the corner from the souvenir one you worked since you were fifteen—he didn't know if you had bigger plans than that after graduating though, but that was an uneasy thought he preferred to ignore.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, "I love you" right out loud! Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way. Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange, and they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed. Well something's lost, but something's gained, in living every day.

Kiara was the first one to leave, claiming that this was really good and that she knew that with the pogues there were never really goodbyes, but that she had an early morning tomorrow with a sea-turtle project. Then, as the fire died out and the minutes turned into hours, the two couples left as well. Pope and Cleo claimed that they still had to shower before going to bed, and John B only snuggled with Sarah, pushing her towards the house. As the couple giggled, JJ noticed from his peripheral vision when you jiggled your eyebrows at Sarah, but the blonde only winked at you, pointing at the both of you at the tub before turning back. You sighed, distancing yourself from him now that you had more space in the water, and JJ held back a smile as the tree lights illuminated your pink cheeks. At twenty-two, he felt just like a teenager in that moment.

There were a few quiet minutes then, you were looking intently at him, drawing each of his features with your eyes as if trying to tattoo the image of his wet torso on your brain, but JJ didn't notice; he was lost in thought, provoked by being alone with you again. JJ realized that ever since he could remember, even though your brother was his de facto best friend and even as the group grew larger, you were there. For every phase and every belief that each one etched into him, you were there. As he looked at both sides of life, at win and lose, you were right beside him, either winning and losing as well or just supporting him emphatically through it.

Somehow he could always just recall how his pogue life acquired a rose-colored filter with you in it; he'd recall life's illusions with you at his side. You were there. You were it. And he didn't know his next step at all, but he wanted you in it; ached for it even.

He feigned cold as an excuse to get you both out of the tub, grabbing the one towel thrown onto a chair and wrapping it around you as you exited as well. He threw a familiar, amicable smile in your direction to disguise how he was, again, lost in his own train of thought. A hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the Chateau. As you got to the front porch, the other reached for your pulse gently, trying to stop you from entering. JJ became conscious of how he was dripping onto the wooden porch, but he didn't care, calling you by your nickname in a low voice. He was acting fast, planning something but also acting instinctively, intending to speak just from memory.

"Hey, uhm..." he stopped himself again as your eyes locked onto his, growing a little bit nervous now. Your eyebrows shot up expectantly, and some of your hair was sticking to your wet face. You'd be the death of him.

"With any luck, by next year, I'll be going out with one of these girls..." Your brows pinched, and eyes flashed with recognition as JJ shuffled his phone, some drops falling from his hair onto the screen before he turned it in your direction with a picture of Kendall Jenner and sliding his finger so it would also show one of Giselle Bündchen. You laughed, gulping expectantly.

"But for now, let me say, without hope or agenda, just because we finished college— even though it's at Christmas that you tell the truth." You chuckled again, but felt like you were hyperventilating, unable to believe that this was really happening to you. Much less that JJ Maybank had memorized a scene from the "dumb chick flick" you obsessed with since you were a mere child. You battled with your own feelings as you tried to let him finish.

"To me, you are perfect, and my wasted heart will love you until you look like this..." He shuffled again with the tiny screen, a smirk on his face as he turned it to you. A photo of a very old and wrinkly woman made you chuckle. Under it, it read "former surfer lady turns viral as she advises to the risks of not wearing sunscreen." You couldn't hold the cackle that left you at that, not even worried about the rest of the group sleeping inside the house, which made JJ smile widely as well.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, I love you..." A loud sigh met a sob halfway as you looked up, feeling pounds lighter after saying so naturally something you had been burying for years, feeling absurdly proud of just that. "I love you so much, what the fuck! I've loved you forever." You beamed at him again, relief written all over his face as he said it back proudly. "I'm sorry for the wait; it wasn't on purpose—Swear it." He grabbed both your cheeks as you laughed, smiling from ear to ear as his face etched closer to yours by the second. Your noses were touching already when he whispered in a low tone, "fuck, y/n..." as your mouths glued together longingly.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a rush of warmth spreading through you as if the sun had risen inside your chest. JJ's touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as his hands cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. Every moment felt like an eternity as you lost yourselves in the kiss, the taste of saltwater, beer and weed mingling with the sweetness of the moment.

For JJ, it was as if everything he had been holding back, every unspoken word and hidden feeling, was finally pouring out into this one embrace. His heart raced in his chest as he kissed you, his mind buzzing with the realization that he had found something truly precious in you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a culmination of years of friendship and longing finally coming to fruition.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, JJ's eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that took your breath away. In that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. You had crossed a threshold together, stepping into a new chapter of your lives filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a future together. And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this was just what you wanted; like you were made for just that.

"I don't even want to come inside, I don't wanna-" you said, sighing mid chuckle, "don't wanna do anything right now, God, JJ, I'm like in a haze!" He clung to you, chuckling, his hands going to your arms, your neck, your hair—he wanted to touch all of you. "Always have the hammock..." he suggested, and you rushed your way there as if just walking would make you lose any time with him.

After you spent a while staring at the stars in the sky, listening to the chirping of crickets in between small, sloppy kisses, JJ sleepily muttered "I feel like I'm fucking high right now," you both laughed "like I'm floating—life accomplishment kind of thing." you swatted at his chest, lightheartedly telling him to stop being silly before readjusting in the wet towel that served as a blanket for the two of you.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep, the sound of the river running to meet the ocean lulling you into a state of contentment. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the warmth of JJ's embrace and the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of perfection in an imperfect world.

The warm rays of the morning sun gently kissed the faces of the sleeping pogues as they stirred awake, the sounds of birdsong filling the air. Stretching and yawning, they emerged from their makeshift beds scattered across the Chateau, the pull-out couch and matresses on the floor.

As they gathered outside to clean the space free of empty cans and wrapping paper, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, John B's gaze was the first one to fall upon the sight of JJ and you nestled together in the hammock, still fast asleep. He nudged Sarah first, but soon a collective smile spread across their faces as they exchanged knowing glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

"About time," Pope muttered under his breath, eliciting chuckles from the others.

John B grinned, looking at Sarah. "Looks like our boy finally made his move."

Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Took them long enough," she teased, but there was genuine warmth in her voice.

Kiara smirked, crossing her arms, she showed a satisfied facade even though she was jumping inside, bubbling with happiness for the both of you; the sparkle of her eyes being hard to hide. "Well, better late than never, I guess."

With a chorus of laughter and gentle ribbing, the pogues left JJ and you to enjoy your moment together, the feeling was that their little family had just grown a little bit stronger. You had woken up the moment the front door banged back against it's frame as it closed the first time, but feeling JJ's chest under your head, you decided to just keep your eyes closed, fighting a grin to show on your face at your friends' commentaries. You were home. And you only wanted to know life now if it was by JJ's side; especially if he'd be scratching your hair like he was doing just now, half a smile on his lips—"Did I take that long?" he questioned, jokingly.

"A lifetime."

If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.