#World’s best Surf Destinations

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱

daughter of poseidon!reader x luke castellan 🫧

IN WHICH.. in an attempt to keep percy from going insane, y/n is forced to keep her relationship with luke a secret

warning! the fic contains- feminine reader // post tlt but no luke betrayal (percy is there and chris and clarisse are together) // use of y/n

🎧- give you the world by steve lacy

2.4k

Since the dawn of time, you and Luke Castellan have been best friends. Attached at the hip since birth, the two of you have always been close. He was the one who helped you conquer your most intimidating challenges, whether that be the nervousness due to the first day of school or a Minotaur vigorously hunting you down.

And you assisted him, too. On those sleepless nights due to haunting nightmares, you lay beside him, comforting him through every scared shiver. It had always been Luke and Y/N, two peas in a pod, destined to spend eternity together.

Now, you both reside in Camp Half-Blood, eagerly awaiting your next adventure. You loved your time at the summer camp, whether it was tending to the young children or paddle boarding on the smooth and crystal blue lake that glimmered as sunlight passed through. It was thrilling to live such a beautiful life with the people you loved most.

It all started when you waltzed into the infirmary at fourteen, hurt and confused, with Luke and Annabeth by your side. The journey to get here was long and painful, losing one of your best friends, Thalia, in the process. Your head throbbed as Chiron explained the basis of everything, since this whole Greek God situation could be hard to process.

Poseidon, the God of the Sea, claimed you with ease the moment he saw you lingering by the lake all day. With Hermes, it took him a lot longer to accept Luke. However, you cheered him up when no one else could, lighting up his whole world, and no matter how bummed he was about his absent father, your illuminating smile shifted his mood instantly.

You’ve been a year-rounder since then; the world is too dangerous for you to venture off. Every once in a blue moon, however, you wish that just for one year, the monsters would stop prowling and you could explore the cities that tourists swarmed on a regular basis. Other times, you were happy to live in the warm solace you referred to as camp. The companions made inside the safe haven were incomparable to all the mysteries that roamed outside.

Around a year ago, a small blond boy arrived, his cluelessness mirroring yours when you first stumbled in. As you gave him the standard tour, something seemed to be off. The stories he shared of devious monsters attacking reminded you of your childhood, and a feeling of suspicion and concern arose.

Your wariness was only confirmed when the golden trident floated above Percy’s head. Sure, you were excited to have a younger brother, but you knew the dangers the life of a forbidden child contained. So, you made it your honorary job to protect him no matter the circumstance. You taught him how to surf and how to use his powers for the greater good.  And so a magnificent connection was formed, with you and him bonding like full siblings. He loved hearing all of the gossip between the older campers, and you loved when he updated you on how his friends were doing. Not to mention the chaotic board game nights you and he shared with Annabeth and Luke. There were almost no hidden secrets, for you told each other everything. Which is why you felt horrible about the massive personal detail you left out of your weekly yapping session.

You and Luke had been dating for three months. You had liked each other for a while, but eventually the overly flirty comments and long stares got the best of him, and he confessed . One breezy night, he asked you to meet him on the waterfront before bed. You obliged, stepping out into the chilly weather to find hundreds of blooming flowers (courtesy of the Demeter kids) arranged neatly in a heart. It was cheesy, but it was the exact type of movie love you were looking for.

That chilly, moonlit evening, you decided it was best to keep your relationship hidden from Percy and, for that matter, most of the camp. Close friends, such as Clarisse and Chris, knew, but that was only because you went on frequent double dates with the pair. But that doesn’t mean others didn’t bat an eye at your overly friendly relationship. You had almost been caught multiple times, despite Luke being the son of Hermes, who was known for his sly nature. 

The first time it happened was entirely Luke's fault. You and him had just finished archery training and were walking to lunch, where the rest of camp resided. As soon as you approached the bustling picnic tables, you were dragged off by the Aphrodite kids, who wanted your help with some fashion emergencies. That left Luke with Chris and Percy, along with some other campers from Hermes cabin.  -

“How was archery?” Asked an unclaimed kid, who Luke had little interaction with. They had small talk every once in a while, but not enough for him to know any personal details about his life.

“It was fine. You know, my girlfrie-“

Luke was lucky looks couldn’t kill, because with the way Percy and Chris were staring at him, he would have been six feet under already. He tried his best to salvage the situation, continuing on as if nothing had happened.

“My friend hit three bullseyes in a row. It was really impressive.” He finished, staring down as he pushed around his mushy broccoli with a flimsy spork, hoping to avoid the glares of his, let's face it, practically brother-in-law. Lucky for him, Percy shrugged it off, and the topic was quickly changed. 

-

The second time, however, was most certainly your mistake.

-

The dull light from the moon provided little protection from the consuming jet black sky. You and Luke had to sneak out after hours often, which was one of the major downsides to a private relationship.

“No!” You playfully shouted, trying to juke him out as you ran through the rocky sand of the shoreline. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), your boyfriend was the most athletic kid on camp. He easily caught you before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to the navy blue lake. 

You gently punched his back through strained laughter, gasping for oxygen. But as he attempted to step into the cold winter waters, you used your powers to manipulate the sea so it avoided his path. And with one quick swoop of your hand, he was drenched with the cooling solution, and you remained dry. 

He set you down, aggressively shaking the water from his head. “I forgot you were like the princess of the sea.” He said. Your harmonious giggles caused him to grin from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, maybe not the best choice on your end. C’mon, Percy probably has a shirt for you.” You replied, interlocking your fingers and skipping back to your cabin. 

You sneakily creaked the door open, hand over your mouth to try and hush the laughs that spilled out. Percy was sound asleep, snoring softly as you made your way to his dresser, rummaging through the array of neon orange shirts.

“Here. Mr. D gave him the wrong size by accident a while ago.” You whispered toward him before dragging him back out with the fabric still in hand. Once outside, he slid his soaking shirt off, carefully placing it next to your clothes that hung on the drying line. After giving him the t-shirt, you kissed him goodnight and headed back to get some much-needed sleep.

The next day, Percy awoke you with violent shakes, causing you to twist and groan with confusion.

“Get up. It’s like eight already. Don’t you have counselor activities to tend to too?” He said.

You shot up in a panic, staring down at the clock that read 8:03 a.m., almost 20 minutes after your morning duties. With an exasperated sigh, you slipped out of bed and rushed to grab a clean t-shirt from outside. 

Still dazed, you grabbed a familiar shirt off the clothing line and rushed back inside, quickly changing in hopes of escaping Chiron’s anger for your unpunctuality. 

While you happened to make it to breakfast on time, you failed to notice how unusually long the shirt was or how the tag on the back had the initials “L.C.” loosely scribbled on them. However, everyone else noticed your strange outfit. 

“Whose shirt is that? Why is it so big?” Percy was immediately questioned as you sat down with your food tray in hand.

“What do you mean?" You asked, glancing back down at your lengthy attire, before realizing your mistake. “Oh! I spilled something on my only clean shirt, so I borrowed that old one from you. Sorry.” You salvaged, and others seem to believe you. 

You made eye contact with Luke from across the table, growing flustered instantly due to the anxiety-inducing incident.

-

The third and final time might have been your fault, too. But by then, the two of you were fed up of keeping it secret.

-

“Awe, look at the little lovebirds!” 

Clarisse voiced as she shakily pointed a digital camera towards Luke and you, who were engaged in your own conversation.

Gorgeous flowers blossomed around the couple, ranging in various colors and sizes. Laughs rang through the air as Chris, Clarisse, Luke, and you all hung out one hazy camp afternoon. 

You looked up at the girl, smiling brightly as you twirled a pink flower in your palm. Grabbing Luke’s jaw with your soft, freshly manicured hands and turning his head to look in their direction, Chris pulled out a Polaroid camera, snapping a photo of the teens. 

As the black picture slid out of the small box, Chris handed it to Clarisse, who shook it with force in order to see the image fully.

“Do you want me to take one of you two?” You asked, snatching the camera from Chris’s hands and pointing it towards them. 

They posed, and the photo turned out super cute. You stared down at your frilly ruffle socks that stuck out of your high-top navy blue Converse. The toes of the shoes had been decorated with the signatures of all of your friends.

“It’s getting late; wanna head back?” Chris suggested the others let out a groan. He was right; they had camp duties to attend to, but being wrapped in their loved one’s embrace was so much more appealing.

You hopped up reluctantly, Luke grabbing your hand as you took the scenic route back to the cabins, the other couple straying a different way.

“I love going out with them.” You declared, breaking the silence and dramatically swinging your intertwined arms.

“Me too. It makes me feel like we’re just regular people.” He responded, smiling at her with such genuineness.

“Maybe in another universe.” You replied, sighing as you let out a light giggle.

“Speaking of which,” you continued. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

“Duh. We’re probably Gwen and Spiderman in one.” 

“Totally.” They grinned, enjoying the comfort they brought each other in the chaos that was their life.

After hours of training, you slipped back into Cabin 3, taking the photo out of your back pocket and placing it on your bed. You smiled at the sweet situation before Luke burst in, calling you to the bonfire. Obliviously, the Polaroid was left open on your bed, exposed to the world.

You basked in the warmth of Apollo’s kids songs, zoned out while mindlessly swaying to the beat of the guitar. Luke, who was sitting beside you, noticed you staring off into space and questioned it.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“I wanna tell Percy about us.” You replied, looking into his eyes to detect his emotions. He seemed surprised at first, but his expression changed to one more supportive a few seconds later. 

“I agree. I mean, he might try to literally drown me, but I hate lying to him.”

“Me too.” You finished, turning back to face the singer. However, you instead met eyes with a furious-looking Percy, holding a small black rectangle in his hands. Your heart stopped, and you leaped up to rush and explain, Luke following behind. The young blond stormed off in the other direction.

“Percy, please listen. We couldn’t tell you because we knew how you’d react. I know you’re protective and all, and I love that about you, but Luke's a good guy, and we both know that.” You started, praying to the gods that this would work out. 

“I barely even know him!“ Percy lied straight through his teeth, trying to come up with a rational reason for his anger. 

“Are you kidding? You’ve known him for a year now.” You sassed back.

“How long have you been dating?” He threw away his last point, knowing he had already lost that argument.

“Three months, I think.” You whispered out, ashamed.

“Three months, and you didn’t think to let me, your little brother, know?” He screamed, speed-walking back to his cabin, irritated. 

You let out a sigh, facing Luke. Sadness coated your glossy eyes before seeping out onto your cheeks. Your boyfriend was quick to wipe the tears with his calloused thumb, comforting you.

“Hey, he’ll come around eventually. Let him sleep it off.” He whispered, embracing you in a tight hug. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, clamping your eyes shut.

As the sun rose the next morning and Percy stepped out of the cabin, you and Luke were waiting outside, prepared with a whole spiel about your relationship. To your astonishment, he greeted you with a smile and spoke up first.

“I’m sorry about last night. While I think this whole concept of you dating Luke is insane, he’s probably the best it’s going to get, so I approve.” You smiled back, a sigh of relief escaping your throat. 

“And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. It’s just-“ 

“Don’t. It’s fine, really. Just absolutely no PDA in front of me.” Percy stated, a look of disgust appeared as he said the last sentence. Both of you agreed to his simple terms.

“I’ve gotta go to the arena. I’ll see you later.” Luke declared, and you nodded, ruffling your fingers through his curls before he departed. Once he was a solid distance away, Percy leaned in and whispered to you.

“Really? Luke Castellan? That's the best you could do?”

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[fallstaticexit]

So much for a peaceful reunion …

Prev / Next / Extras

Sick to my stomaccchhh the first Briar to cheat in my legacy. I saw Zoey had a sentiment and fell to my knees in agony. Now Selene’s punishment is that it’s canon and everyone will point and boo 😡🫵🏽

[Later That Night]

Zoey: So. How was your flight?

Selene: Not bad. Quickest flight I’ve ever been on.

Zoey: Makes sense, you were only 2 islands away.

........

Selene: Anyway, they don’t know I’m here yet. Wanted to wait for you.

Selene: You sure about this?

Zoey: I really don’t think we have a choice...

Aiden: Hey look, it’s the Sulani Surf champions of the world!

Nina: *gasps* Our baby!

Nina: My sweet baby, I’ve missed you to pieces. I love you so much. My baby-

Selene: Mom, okokok-

Mel: Maeve, Loren, get in here! Look who came to visit their old parents! It’s the lovebirds!

Mel: How long are you in Sulani for? Your mom and I were going to fly out to Henford to see Ri and Adie before we head back to DSV.

Selene: Yeah, maybe... dad, um, Zoey and I wanted to tell you guys something actually...

Selene: So...um... damn...basically...

Zoey: This is something we’ve wanted to tell you guys for a while now.

Loren: Zoe, you two didn’t elope did you?

Maeve: Yeah, I thought you wanted to do the whole destination wedding, in Mt. Komorebi after the tour was over?

Zoey: Mami, no, we didn’t elope. We-

Mel: Someone’s pregnant!!! Calling it now!

Nina: *gasps* Oh my god, are you!? Is my baby having a baby?

Mel: I knew something was up! All the sneaking around and missed calls. You two are giving us another grandbaby. I knew it!

Maeve: Looks like we’re about to hash up that age old rivalry of who’s the best couple, except it’s who’s the best grandparents.

Mel: You forget we got 7 years of experience ahead of you?

Selene: Guys! Please, nobody is pregnant!

Zoey: Just tell them. This is your thing anyway-

Selene: Ok, alright...um. We—I mean I—called off the engagement. We broke up.

Mel: W-what? What do you mean you called off the engagement?

Aiden: You two been together since you were kids...

Nina: Selene, did something happen? We don’t understand.

Zoey: Yeah, you know what, I’ll let Selene tell you all about that.

Selene: Well, um...so I...y’know...I...

Zoey: She fucked someone else on tour. That’s what she did.

[silence]

Nina: My god, Selene, have you lost your damn mind?

Selene: Mom....

Maeve: Sweetheart, wait, talk to me.

Zoey: [sobbing] Please, just leave me alone-

[hvcmixtape]

love's all fair when you're checking the decisions between you and seungkwan on the basketball court on the island of jeju

pairing: seungkwan x reader themes: vacation!(Y/N), resort worker!seungkwan, jeju!seungkwan, there's no mention of caffeine but assume seungkwan still has his caffeine addiction 🤣 wc: ~2600 genre: fluff note: first fic released in a long while! hope you enjoy this AU :>

“I know you say you’re trying, but are you really?” Seungkwan teases you with a fiery tongue. He looks down at you as if the whole world is in his hand, the corner of his lips digging deep into his smirk. With the basketball cradled in his palm, you shoot daggers into his eyes. Who does he think he is, Troy Bolton?

You're the only two on the court at this late hour, but it's only because of the consequences of your own actions, all of which started just earlier that day.

It's your yearly vacation with your family and they decided, why not go to a resort where the destination is the journey itself?

As soon as you heard that come from your mom's mouth, you weren't sure what to make of the next week you'd be spending in Jeju, a place you'd been to a few times before. You've already visited the major attractions on the island, like hiking the Hallasan volcano, so what are a few more hikes? But realistically, who are you to deny your parents, the ones paying for the vacation in the first place?

Packing was difficult as you've thrown random clothing that you'll hope will make cute outfits when you're on the beachy island, and as soon as you know it, you're on the flight to Jeju, then in the shuttle to the resort, and then your ass is kissing the seat to a poolside view.

September is one of the best times to visit Jeju—the rainy season is starting to die down, but it's still bright and warm outside when there aren't any clouds. There aren't as many tourists at this time, but you've soon figured out that this is the time for locals to make the trip to Jeju so it's almost as crowded as you figured it would be. You suppose it's just another testament to how amazing Korea's geography can be.

As you sip on your drink, your mom beside you flips through one of the many brochures they handed her at check-in.

"Me and dad want to do a cooking class," she says after reading the description. "They'll teach us how to make paella; it's a Spanish rice dish."

"That sounds really yummy," you mindlessly reply, but as soon as you say that, she places one on your torso. "You want me to find things to do too?"

"Why not? Weren't you complaining and asking why we were coming back to Jeju? That's why I chose this place," your mom roughly says. "You don't have to do everything, but at least do something other than staying by the pool all day."

"I guess," you grumble, finally opening the pamphlet. There are a lot of things to try out: surfing and scuba diving caught your eye, but you weren't sure how you'd fare with those very physical activities. When you flip to the other side of the paper, your eyes are drawn to the left side. "Mom, they have an activity center for people my age—"

"Try it out! It'll be fun. Maybe you can go there after lunch and see what things they have planned for the day."

Lunch comes and goes and you have no choice but to venture off on your own, as your parents decided they want to do a wine tasting in the downtown area, taking the rental car with them.

Your first step is to approach the reception area, where you find a young man, probably around your age, manning the desk.

"Hi, good afternoon, how can I help you?" His full cheeks give him a boyish look, and his messy hair just adds to his appearance. He's wearing the same linen shirt the other staff you've seen wear, but on him, it looks just a little bit better.

"I was wondering if you have any information on the young adult activity center here. I saw it in one of the brochures."

A smile beams on his face. "You've come to the right place. I'm the worker in charge of the young adult activity center. I'm Seungkwan."

He puts out a hand for you to shake, and you accept it right away. "My name is (Y/N), it's nice to meet you," you reply back. "When are there usually activities during the day? I'm staying at the resort until the end of the week."

"Usually every few hours is a light activity and sometimes, we do excursions. Let me check to see what we have for today."

As Seungkwan pulls up the schedule on his computer, you say, "You seem a little young to be working at a resort full-time?"

He chuckles, pulling his focus toward you. "This is actually my aunt's resort. I'm working with her until I manage to figure out what I want to do. But I am 21, so I'm not totally young."

"Oh, I'm only a little bit older than you. I'm just turned 22," you reply. "But this seems like a fun job."

"Yeah, I like it most of the time. I'm sort of thinking of going into the entertainment industry, so I'd say this is good practice." Seungkwan shrugs. "So, for today's schedule, we're planning on hiking around the Cheonjeyeon waterfalls. We'll meet at 3:30 so we can make it for the sunset and head back right after that."

"Sounds good. Where's the meeting spot?"

"It'll be right here at the reception desk. We usually have 5 to 10 people come around, especially for the hikes. And since we're at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn, not as many young adults are here." There's something in that sentence that makes you raise an eyebrow but you don't think further of it.

"I'll see you at 3:30 then," you smile. "See you later, Seungkwan."

You find him later on with a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of his head, waving around a tiny green flag. You can't help but laugh at how cutely he spins the flag in circles as he raises his hand high above his head.

"Hi Seungkwan," you say as you approach the group of 7 people so far. Most seem around your age but some have younger faces.

"Hi, (Y/N). You look ready to hike," he smiles and leans in toward your ear, making you feel some type of way when his breath tickles your ear when he speaks. "Some people seem like they've been forced to come by their parents."

You chuckle at his hushed tone and take a good look around you, where everyone is wearing completely different styles that might not be the best for hiking to a waterfall. One guy is wearing an all-white outfit, and you know that can't be good news for a hike.

"I suppose you get this often then?" You ask, as you turn away from him and you rummage through your backpack to find the sunscreen that you'll definitely need with the sun's rays still beating down at this time.

Seungkwan's eyes are stuck on your hands as they glide the sunscreen along your arms and shoulders, not even able to answer your question. He bites his lip as he can see you try to reach the exposed parts of your back with your fingers that just can't find a way there, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Can," you look back at him with a pleading smile. "Can you put sunscreen on the parts I can't get?"

He doesn't have much of a choice and he accepts the bottle with a flushed face. "Sure," he says, squeezing the product onto his hand and watching the cream soak into your skin. He's embarrassed to admit that he knows the spots on your back that didn't get covered.

"Thanks!" You beam with a bright smile as you turn toward him, not knowing that he'll be thinking about that moment for a long while.

"Bye, Seoyeong, it was nice meeting you!" You wave to a girl who leaves almost as soon as the group returns to the lobby. She doesn't say much back, but you hope you'll get to see her again in the next few days that you're still here.

As people start to break ways, you're reluctant to leave. "Do people usually leave right away, or do they hang around?" You ask Seungkwan. He says he's still on the clock, whether he's with the young adults' group or he returns to manning the front desk, so it doesn't matter much to him how he spends the last part of his day.

"Most leave right away, but you're more than welcome to hang around if you want." Seungkwan smiles and it's the first time you've felt like you want to absolutely squish his cheeks.

You fold your fingers tight, not letting them leave your side. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not. We can get to know each other better, and," he glances down at his watch. "I get off of work in 45 minutes and that was a pretty hefty hike, so we can grab food if you want? I can take you somewhere outside of the resort."

...Is this a date?

After letting your mother know that you're off to eat dinner with one of the people you've met at the hike, you click your seatbelt buckle and are ready to go wherever he leads you. Never mind the fact that you've known him for half the day—you are usually more aware than this—but you just feel good about Seungkwan. Something feels right about him.

"Do you like hamburgers?" Seungkwan asks as he adjusts the mirrors of his car. You can feel your heart pattering against your chest from such a domestic action.

"Yeah. I get them often with my friends after classes." You go deeper into conversation about your academic aspirations when he wonders what courses you're taking, and it's nice, to say the least. You enjoy getting to know someone better and it definitely doesn't hurt that you find him attractive. Maybe he's just being nice and maybe he's done this with other people who have been to the resort and met up with him, but you're only here for a few days anyway. If things don't work out, it's fine.

Seungkwan's a smooth driver as you glaze over his appearance: his brown hair floating up and down when the wind blows through it, the wire glasses that perch on his nose, and a smile that comes about often when he's speaking. He doesn't let the conversation drop, making sure he's nodding his head in acknowledgment while also keeping his eyes on the road.

As he approaches the parking lot of the restaurant, you mention that parking is so difficult.

"No, it's pretty easy," Seungkwan shakes his head. He removes his hand from the wheel and places it on the back of your seat as he reverses the car into the space.

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, trying to look in the side mirror if your face can get any redder.

After you head into the restaurant and order your food, you look out the window and even a simple hamburger place has the best views. "I wouldn't see the ocean while eating a burger like this in Seoul."

"Just another great thing about Jeju," Seungkwan says as he digs into his burger. "This is my favorite burger place, I go here pretty often whenever I finish a shift."

"I like your shirt, by the way. It looks good on you," you blurt out and you can't help but take a huge bite of your burger so you can shut up.

Seungkwan sets down his burger and covers his laugh with a napkin. "Thanks," he replies after he settles down. It's a simple outfit—just a blue button-up with a white inner shirt, but it's the rolled-up sleeves that do it for you.

You move on from that topic as soon as you can.

"Thanks for taking me there, Seungkwan," You grin as you walk out potbellied after the meal. "And thank you for paying for me too, you didn't have to."

"Just wanted to show you around is all, so it's my pleasure."

You're not quite sure what he means of it, but he brings you to a walkway that leads down to the coast. "This is a nice place to walk along," you say as your shoes crush the sand below you.

"Yeah, I usually like to exercise after my meals, especially with burgers," he laughs at himself.

The two of you walk in silence for a little bit, taking in the sights and sounds of Jeju, a place Seungkwan has known forever and a place you're just here to touch on for a few days.

"Hey," Seungkwan pipes up. "Do you like basketball?"

“You suck, Kwan,” you say, as you jump, jump, jump. Your arm stretches out as far as you can, fingertips grazing his forearm each time your feet leave the ground. “What happened to playing a fair game?”

You're surprised that you get the court all to yourselves. Seungkwan said that the courts close for guests around 9 at night, but since it's his aunt's resort, a key can solve all of his problems. The floodlights are still on, illuminating the green and white basketball court you stand on.

“This is fair!” He can’t help but to laugh. “You just can’t reach me because you’re short.” His eyes crinkle at the outer points, still keeping enough focus to maintain the ball in his possession. Damn you, Seungkwan.

Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s all of the mixed signals he’s been giving you but ah, to hell with it. It’s time for you to get on the offense and make a move.

With a deep breath in and out, you wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with the softest eyes you could muster.

As soon as he feels contact on his body, only a layer of clothing between your fingers and his midriff, his face burns. And you have never seen Seungkwan flustered to a point that the ball falls from his hand immediately and bounces multiple times on the court.

His feet are frozen and his eyes land on you, even as you run after the ball and sink a shot that’s not the cleanest, but still swishes through the net. 

Grabbing the ball, you saunter up as cool as you can, and hold the ball on your hip as you stand face-to-face. “Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I was trying at least.”

Your smart comment goes right over his head, as he’s still trying to process what the hell just happened.

"(Y/N)," he can only manage to utter, looking around to see if anyone saw what he just experienced. His eyes are wider than the full moon in the sky and he blinks a few times to shake off his surprise. "Yeah, I guess that would be trying." He puffs his cheeks and purses his lips, not knowing what else to say.

"I think you're cool Seungkwan."

"You do?"

"But I mean, do you do this with all the girls you meet when they come here for vacation?"

You have time to run away if need be, but you find yourself taking one, two, three steps closer to him.

"No," he replies, his voice softer than ever before. "Only you."

[zuko-always-lies]

What is Aang's opinion on destiny?

This ask has sat in my box for well over a year, so I figured I should actually answer it. We see people talk about Aang's destiny to him or Aang talk to others about it a few times. The brief version is that for Aang, his destiny ultimately comes to mean both his duties and responsibilities as Avatar, and also something that he must actively decide and shape, instead of something which is preordained. Aang is "destined to be Avatar" and must do his best to fulfill the duty of that role, but what that looks like and entitles is up to him. It is very different from how Iroh and Zuko view destiny.

"The Storm":

Gyatso: Aang needs to have freedom and fun. He needs to grow up as a normal boy. Tashi: You cannot keep protecting him from his destiny. Pasang: Gyatso, I know you mean well, but you are letting your affection for the boy cloud your judgment. Gyatso: All I want is what is best for him. Pasang: But what we need is what's best for the world. You and Aang must be separated! The Avatar will be sent away to the Eastern Air Temple to complete his training. Aang is shown looking through a hole in the ceiling, shocked at the news that he just heard.

Destiny here is "Aang's duties as Avatar"

"The Fortuneteller":

Wu: [Her and Aang shielding their faces in surprise.] Oh my! [Cuts to shot of the bone lying in the fire and back to Aunt Wu who is fascinated.] Your destiny! This is incredible. You will be involved in a great battle, an awesome conflict between the forces of good and evil. A battle whose outcome will determine the fate of the whole world! Aang: [Casually.] Yeah, yeah, I knew that already. But did it say anything about a girl?

Destiny here is whether Aang ends up with Katara, but that's the only time we ever see Aang treat it as such.

Aang: [Disappointed.] You didn't really see love in my fortune, did you? You just told me what I wanted to hear. Wu: I'll tell you a little secret, young airbender. [Gestures to the sky.] Just as you reshaped those clouds, [Cuts to shot of Aang, who smiles; off-camera.] you have the power to shape your own destiny.

Aunt Wu tells Aang he can shape his own path.

"The Firebending Master":

Aang: Master, I need to learn firebending. Jeong Jeong: Only a fool seeks his own destruction. Aang: [To Jeong Jeong.] I'm the Avatar, it's my destiny to— [Gets interrupted.] Jeong Jeong: Destiny? What would a boy know of destiny? If a fish lives its whole life in this river, does he know the river's destiny? No! Only that it runs on and on out of his control! He may follow where it flows, but he cannot see the end. He cannot imagine the ocean. Aang: Okay, but it's the Avatar's duty to master all of the bending disciplines.

Destiny is again Aang's duty as Avatar.

"Sozin's Comet, Part II":

Aang: I need to look deep inside myself. Close-up frontal view as Aang starts meditating. Side-view of Aang as the spirit of Avatar Kuruk, a male Avatar from the Northern Water Tribe, appears before him. Kuruk: [Close-up.] I am Avatar Kuruk. [Cut to flashback to a close-up view of a younger Avatar Kuruk. The camera zooms out to show him surfing.] When I was young, I was always a go-with-the-flow kind of Avatar. [The camera pans round to follow his movements on the wave before holding steady as he surfs away.] People seemed to work out their own problems, and there was peace and good times in the world. [Cut to shot of the sun and the camera pans down to Kuruk with Ummi and they kiss.] But then, [Fade to a side-view of Koh in the Spirit World. Koh moves in front of the camera to reveal the face of Ummi.] I lost the woman I loved to Koh, the Face Stealer. [Fade back to close-up side-view of present-day Kuruk.] It was my fault. If I had been more attentive and more active, [Close-up of Aang.] I could've saved her. Aang, [Close-up of Kuruk.] you must actively shape your own destiny and the destiny of the world.

Destiny is again something Aang must actively take control of, instead of preordained path.

[acceleracers-baby]

Acceleracers HC’s! Road Trip Roles! Teku Edition!

Teku

(Nolo Pasaro, Vert Wheeler, Shirako Takamoto, Kurt Wylde, Karma Eiss)

+Bonus Round

(Brian Kadeem & Banjee Castillo)

Teku

Nolo Pasaro - Nolo is in charge of picking the movies- assuming whatever big ass van they renovated comes with one of those little movie player things. Who am I kidding- these guys probably would have just installed one if it didn’t come stock. Unfortunately, Nolo’s movie choices are always pretty predictable. It’s either going to be one of the now TEN Fast and Furious movies, Pacific Rim, Transformers, or The Losers. That being said, Nolo DOES take bribes. Vert once washed his car for a week just so they could watch Surfs Up.

Vert Wheeler - Speaking of Vert, he’s the snack guy! At first, he gathered up everyone’s requests a few days before they got on the road, but now he practically has everyone’s snack preferences memorized. Let it be known that he takes this job very seriously. He genuinely goes out of his way to ensure everyone’s got at least one or two things to munch on. That’s also why he starts shopping a few days out from the actual trip, so that way if he has to run by different stores, or cut up fruit and divide them up into little ziplock bags he’s got enough time to do it. I also like to imagine at some point Jack comes home early from one of his missions and sees his son just surrounded by a shit ton of food like “are we doomsday prepers now??? What the hell is going on???”

Shirako Takamoto - I feel like I don’t even have to say it, but I’m going to anyway. Shirako is the DJ. Like Vert, he is very serious about this role. He starts curating a playlist as soon as he knows a road trip is going to happen. It doesn’t matter if he’s learning about it months in advance, he starts on it immediately. Despite always having headphones on and seemingly vibing in his own little world most of the time, Shirako is an astounding listener. He never fails to add the perfect mix of everyone’s favorite songs to the playlist. Not only that, but he has it sectioned out by hour. He wants to make sure whatever music they have playing, whether it be background noise for group conversations, or loud sing along sessions, it’s perfect!

Kurt Wylde - Spoilers for Karma, but they’re the two drivers. They work in shifts, switching off every few hours to (1) make sure they’re making the best time and (2) prevent any unnecessary road fatigue. Kurt is also practically the group big brother, so before any trip he’s sending everyone checklists to make sure they don’t forget anything. It’s ridiculous how in-depth they are. Obviously, he trusts them to fulfill their individual road trip roles but he’s on their asses for literally anything else. They’ll be ready to go at like 4am- everyone’s tired asf and he’s going around like “wallets? phones? chargers? toothbrushes???” making sure they didn’t forget any last minute items.

Karma Eiss - Like you read for Kurt, she is one of the designated drivers. On top of that though she is also the group navigator. She has like Waze levels of finding the best routes. With her at the helm, they’re able to make a 12 hour drive in a fraction of the time. Karma also has his uncanny ability to pick the best rest stops. Want to use the restroom but also take a quick breather in a nice scenic area? Good thing Karma was able to find the most beautiful truck stop you’ve ever seen with the cleanest bathroom ever. It’s honestly a little scary.

Bonus Round

Brian Kadeem - With Kadeem, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. When this guy road trips, he ROAD TRIPS. What I mean by that is you will be stopping at just about every cite to stop and smell the roses. It doesn’t matter if it’s some tacky tourist trap or one of the seven wonders of the world, he wants to see it, learn about it, and appreciate it. And if anyone one deserves to be able to relax a little, it’s Kadeem. Let this man enjoy his goofy little side quests. Especially, cause he ends up finding the greatest hole in the wall places to stop at too.

Banjee Castillo - Banjee quite literally never runs out of energy, so you HAVE to give this guy something to do or he will be miserable the entire ride. Thankfully, he is absurdly versatile. Obviously, his preferred role is to be in the drivers seat, but when he is not doing that he is the king of road trip games. 21 questions, I spy, and trivia are child’s play compared to the shit that Banjee brings to the table. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the classics, but they get old pretty fast on long road trips so he’s had to get creative in the past. It’s not uncommon for there to be three games going on at once half way through the drive. Usually two “spot em” games like Punch Buggies & Cows on my Side, and one actual game like Mafia or Song Quizzes.

——— Thanks for Reading ———

[titanslayyyer]

NIGHTS LIKE THIS. Jean Kirstein

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 . . . sophomore year of college holds things you never thought the universe would choose you to experience.  you find yourself strolling this long and winding road without the one person who was supposed to guide you through everything, but with your chosen family-- a group of loud-mouthed friends who wouldn't dare let you lose yourself again.

Though, a new-found face with a troubled past has made his way into your life, and you find yourselves butting heads before you can even build a true bond, only for hearts to mesh together and form something like no other.

WARNINGS/WHAT TO EXPECT: modern college au set at a real school, slowburn-ish, heavy underage drinking and use of drugs, explicit sexual content, mentions of suicide and themes of trauma, hurting, weird love triangle, reader is a musician (guitarist) FEM READER

CHAPTER 1: WHERE WE BELONG

“Pool House” by the Backseat Lovers plays loudly from the radio in your Jeep Wrangler as you drive down ward memorial boulevard with all of the windows down and two packs of vodka seltzers on the floor of the passenger side. 

The familiar California breeze hits your cheeks and the salty smell of the Pacific coast calms your nerves, setting a nonchalant smile across your face.

Palm trees sway in the distance, and to your left waves shimmer under the September sun as Henley Gate welcomes you.

Everywhere you look on the campus of UC Santa Barbara people are buzzing around, an array of different words are spoken at once and a thousand different voices share conversation. 

Sophomore year of college is on the rise, the hustle and bustle of move-in weekend never being something to mess around with and this year was no different then the last. . . people of all sorts riding bikes to their next destination, saying goodbye to their parents, and everything else under the sun.

Here, it didn’t matter where you came from whether it was across the country or from Europe, or the highschool drama you were the center of. You could be whoever you wanted to be. 

You have no plan, no guide on how to do things right. . . but you knew that this is where you had to be.

Your older sister Cassie, formerly a junior here, passed away the summer before your senior year of highschool. 

This left a dent in your world, and you knew that things would never be the same despite the path of better things in your wake. 

She was always there for you, to prepare you for the worst and teach you another lesson you would never forget. She left you a video for your first night away from home, telling you that “all you have to do is endure and survive, because no matter what there are people that you’ll fit in with.’ and  her words lingered in your head like the worst hangover of your life 

Passing her memorial tree near the lagoon hit the hardest, but you did it no matter what.

Seeing her picture, the flowers scattered and the ones that grew, and the cards from friends that were laid out always caused your heart to ache. There were even a few of the remains of candles from her vigil so long ago. 

People who you had no idea existed would come up to you and hug you, saying how sorry they were for ‘what happened.’ and that your sister was one of the best things that happened to this world. They weren’t wrong. She was almost a saint.

There was no avoiding it either, because your family didn’t handle it well.

Your father divorced your mother and is now somewhere down the coast, while your mother sips expensive wine and pops pills on the porch of your home pretending to be as happy as she possibly can. 

Your brother is two years older than you and is a senior at the same school, texting you every so often but for the most part he does his own thing with his own group of friends and surfing day and night to escape his own problems.

He doesn’t talk to your mother as much as he used to, speaking only when spoken to and hanging around your dad.

That’s just the way it goes, whether you like it or not.

You make your way down Ocean Road on your way to Isla Vista where five of your best friends, two of which had already arrived, would be unpacking their own things into the house you would be renting out for the school year.

Your stomach fills with an indescribable warmth, the feeling of excitement filling your body from your head down to your toes as you get closer and closer to the place you call home.

All along each street you pass, students are unpacking and some are already making their way down to the beach under the late afternoon sun in the tiniest bikinis, pedaling smoothly on pastel bikes.

You pull into the wide driveway of your rental, parking right behind Sashas' car whose back bumper and trunk were littered with hundreds upon hundreds of stickers she’d collected since she was gifted the car for her 16th birthday. 

There was a loud scream as you shut your car door, and a gush of happiness filled you up. 

You knew all too well that it was Sasha, who stumbled out the front door and down the steps to give you the biggest bear hug she could muster up.

Time feels as though it’s come to a major halt, your heart nearly stopping from the feeling of the arms you've missed so dearly.

“HIIIE!” She squeals, and you cant help but to laugh heartily into the crook of her neck while you two cradle each other as tightly as possible. 

In the year and a half that you’ve known her, you have learned everything about Sasha and she’s learned every little thing about you from the freckles on your waist to your oldest scars dating back to when you needed training wheels.

Without her life almost seemed boring and empty, and over the summer you found yourself on almost nightly facetime calls to update each other on your hectic lives.

“I’ve missed you so so much!” You cry, passing along the squeezing hug to Historia who followed closely behind Sasha just as excitedly. Her blue eyes nearly began to tear up as she smiled into you, giggling jubilantly. 

“Mmmm im gonna start bawling I’m so glad you made it.” Historia smiles, the two of you pulling out of your embrace and regrouping again as a trifecta. “I’m saying that as if the ride here was a Lord of the Rings-esque journey but still! You didn’t die!”

“I mean, The AC in my car wasn’t working while I was balls deep in traffic and I thought I was gonna have a heatstroke.” You chuckle restfully, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead, reminiscing of the early-evening bumper-to-bumper.

“Hah! I made it before all that.” Sasha boasts, and you roll your eyes, grinning. 

“Some of us weren’t as lucky!” You groan, throwing your arm around Sasha’s shoulders and falling into her as if you were fainting into her arms. 

The three of you laugh.

“We made some lemonade, too! If you wanna have a glass please do, because we accidentally made way too much.” Historia offers, motioning for you guys to follow her into the house, backpack and tote bag slung over your shoulders. 

You walk in to the living room- greeted by the gracious smell of bath and body works candles and the music of a Mt. Joy cd softly playing from a large stereo.

Your eyes wander over each wall and tiny little detail that you could pick out, from the white ‘L’ shaped couch in the corner, and the tv mounted on a small stand. There was a large dragon tree next to that, as well as a large gray chair. 

“Historia’s parents pitched in on the couch, chair, tv stand and coffee table.” Sasha informs you, sipping sweet lemonade from a red plastic cup and throwing herself onto the couch.

“We should run to target when Mikasa gets here.” You say, throwing out the offer.

“That would be so fun.” Sasha replies, nibbling on her straw. “We’ll have to get groceries eventually, but for now I told everyone to bring their favorite snacks.”

“Perfect! I have some chips and pretzels in my car, i’ll make sure to get them.” You say merrily, moving to make your way down the hallway past the kitchen.

You eye the room with a flamingo nametag sticker, sporting your name in big pink bubble letters – very obviously written by Historia.

You push open the door with a curious mind to see an empty bedframe along with a mattress and a nightstand, as well as a closet in the corner. The open window on the back wall looked straight out onto the ocean, where the waves recklessly crashed onto great rocks below and seeped onto the beach before retreating back into the tide.

Tossing your bags down next to the closet, a satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you leaned onto the window sill. . . soaking up the view you missed more than anything. 

Pulling back, you leave the open window and leave the quiet serenity of your own room to begin unpacking your things from your car with the uncertainty of what the upcoming year would hold. 

-

It took about an hour and a half, not counting the large break you took to greet Annie who stopped by for a quick hello, for you to unpack your belongings and organize your room exactly how you wanted it, listening to music during the process of building your desk and dresser and setting up your little guitar corner. 

Your sisters old cd player sat on the dresser, your cd collection in a holder right next to it. Your cds consisted of bands like Alice and Chains and No Doubt all the way to Surf Cruise and Tijuana Panthers. . .  a couple of which you had stolen from her bedroom when you were younger, and listened to most often.

Mikasa had sent you, Sasha and Historia a group snap of her in front of the Isla Vista sign, notifying you all of her arrival while you all sit on the back deck.

“I think Eren is with her.” Sasha says to you guys, snapping her a quick photo of you three.

“No wonder why she took so long.” You chortle, putting your phone down on the side table. “Where’s he staying?” 

“I think him, Connie, Armin, Reiner and Jean are in a place a couple streets over. At least thats what she told me.” Historia states, sucking down some of her lemonade. 

You had all met Eren and his friends Connie and Armin at a backyard party towards the middle of Freshman year when his band played. Eren wore a shirt with “CUM SLUT” in big letters on the back which Mikasa complimented him on tipsily.

Since then, the four of them have always stuck around. 

You’ve been to almost every soccer game, baseball, basketball and volleyball game together with them, and on various nights you would go out to eat at some cheap restaurant that you could only afford when you all pitched in.

“There you guys are.” 

You whip your heads to the nonchalant voice coming from the porch door. It’s Mikasa.

“Hii!” You smile, excitedly jumping up to wrap your arms around her in a tight embrace.

She returns the action, holding you as if she would break your bones if she gripped too hard. Her head is buried into you, and she breathes warm air into your skin. 

Whenever Mikasa hugs someone, she means it. 

“Get over here!” Sasha demands, jumping into the two of you. Historia follows, bundling up into this hug between you and all of your closest friends on the face of the earth. 

It’s hard not seeing the people you love for a while. 

These girls would be in your wedding. These girls would meet your first born. These are the girls that you’re going to graduate college with and have monthly visits with when you live in different places all along the country.

“This is real cute guys, yknow? totally adorbs.” Eren speaks from the doorway, arms crossed and a smug smile across his tan face. 

“Do you want one too or something?” You say, looking over at him. He reeked of weed and the cover-up of Ralph Lauren fragrance.

“I’m good! Thanks though.” He gives you a thumbs up

“That’s not how you sounded when you were crying like a baby last year.” You smirk, tilting your head slightly. “Besides I wouldn’t give you one anyways. You smell god-awful.” 

“Okay, fuck you. I was not crying like a baby.” Eren says sharply. “And I do not smell.”

“Don’t even try to defend yourself, dude.” Sasha snorts, throwing her hat onto the chair behind her and going in to serve your guests some lemonade and fetch herself one of the bags of chips that had been lazily thrown onto the counter.

“Mikasa, Help me out here,” Eren pleads to the girl, but Mikasa simply shakes her head and chuckles. “C’mon!” 

“Sorry, but you were.” She raises her hands in self-defense before reaching into the bag of chips generously brought out.

“You guys need to be put in an anti-bullying class.” Historia giggles, looking up from her phone, having spent a lot of the time texting her girlfriend Ymir.

“It’s not bullying, it’s harmless teasing.” Sasha says. 

“It’s not out fault he’s sensitive.” You snicker.

“It is bullying!” Eren shouts, walking out onto the porch and sitting down in one of the chairs that came with the rental. 

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Mikasa giggles, sitting down next to him.

Eren grunts and rolls his eyes as a response, scooting his chair closer to the table. 

You simply hum softly and sit yourself down next to Historia who speedily typed away, chuckling to herself every so often but remaining consistent in the conversation. 

Hours seemed to pass in such little time as you conversed, sun beginning to set below the horizon. Armin and Connie have since joined you guys, throwing snacks on the table while music plays from Connie’s waterproof speaker that he brings almost everywhere with him.

Your music choice was a collaborated playlist made last year, songs put in from everyone in your friend group and was played countless of times.

You talked about your summers, upcoming job interviews or ones that have passed, classes for the fall quarter, celebrity drama and anything else that came to mind. Eren, Connie and Armin gossiped about the newest beef with Floch who was starting things again with Eren. . . and from the way Floch is, you weren’t surprised. 

He’s a typical college douche with little respect for anyone other than himself.

They began talking about their new roommate and Erens long-term friend– Jean whom you had heard of before, but knew very little about.

You had seen him in a couple of instagram posts, and knew all the boys hangout together a lot over the summer. Though, when your girlfriends finally met him you were unable to make it because of your summer job. 

“He’s got some baggage but he’s nice once you get to know him.” Armin says, looking over to Eren who spat out some remark about his looming fuckboy reputation that’s been on his shoulders since highschool.

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s got some shit going on or somethin’.” Eren says, though at this point you’ve zoned out into a side conversation about gym routines with Mikasa ears only receiving the most interesting points

“an alcoholic. . .” “sophomore sensation. . .” “huge ego. . .” “always on speed dial. . .” “selfish. . .” it went on and on until Connie cracked a joke that completely switched the topic.

Sasha nor Historia had much to say other than little sayings on how they ‘saw it from the moment they met him.’ 

Your mind was buzzing with all sorts of different thoughts as it tried to take in the two different conversations happening around you. 

Plans had soon unfolded into walking to the closest bar and grill where you would be introduced to these new friends of the guys, as well as meeting Zeke there . . . who would be persuaded into buying you guys drinks after being begged.

Sasha was drooling the minute your group shuffled inside the loud restaurant. . . Smells of steak, cooked vegetables and appetizers of all sorts overwhelmed her senses as she bounced over to where Zeke was sat with Ymir, a Coors Light at his lips.

“Finally! I’m starved.” Zeke says, placing his bottle down.

“It’s good to see you too,” You greet him, taking your seat. “You gonna buy us a couple rounds or what?”

“I’m so sick and tired of being used like this.” He huffs.

“What? Because you’re the only one with a real ID?” Eren raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, Don’t expose us like that.” Connie points a finger at Eren, helping himself to a basket of steaming buffalo wings that Zeke had previously ordered for the tabe. “My business is fuckin’ booming, man.”

“Having a fake ID is cringe.” Armin teases.

“Didn’t you blackout like, a week ago?” Annie claims, and Armins cheeks flush red. 

“Okay, I did not blackout—” He begins matter-of-factly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Eren had thrown a little shin-dig with the guys in his parents backyard as a little “end of summer” bash before they all drove out to Santa Barbara.

You received a snap from Connie at about 10pm of Armin on his first drink, and at 3 in the morning. . . another of Armin on his last; messy hair and zero thought between his big blue eyes.

“Oh, you absolutely did!” Eren exclaims. “Somebody get the receipts!” 

“I’m already on it, man,” wiping through the thousands of photos in his camera roll to find the correct videos. He puts the phone in the middle of the table for everyone to see the video of Armin on top of a pool table, dancing to a song you couldn’t identify. 

“Yo, that’s not me!” Armin protests, unable to stifle his own laughter despite being absolutely ripped on.

Connie swipes to another, and another, and finishes on a final photo of Armin passed out in a camp chair, Brewski in hand and sunglasses on the ridge of his nose. 

The whole table is cackling now under the cover of the loud music of the sports bar, only progressing as other jokes are thrown into the mix.

During your fit of laughter, out of the corner of your eye you spot two men and a woman walk into the restaurant– Reiner and Annie along with another face. 

The other man has ashy blonde hair that reaches just below his nape and wears a careless. He’s goddamn handsome, and carries himself like he knows it too. 

“Jean, Reiner! Over here!” Eren calls over to them out of the shocking blue, raising an arm to signal the two over to your table. As the ashy-brown haired man gets closer to you, his eyes meet yours under the multicolored lights. 

Though, you look back to your laughing friends the moment you catch yourself looking for a little too long. “Hey, y/n! This is Jean.” Eren says. “She doesn’t bite. . . much.” 

“Shut up, Blockhead.” You hiss, shaking your head. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“‘S nice to finally meet you too..” He says with little to no emotion, aside from that he nodded his head to you.

His grip is firm, cold silver from his panther n’ roses ring making your hand cold.

“Watch out for the lesbians, though. Those ones bite.” Connie snickers, motioning to Ymir and Historia who were sat next to each other across the table from him.

“Shut the fuck up, Connie.” Ymir snaps, draping her arm around her girlfriends’ shoulder. 

“It’s true!” He says, defending himself. 

“Just ignore him, Ymir. He’s a homophobic stoner who failed English.” Mikasa smirks, earning an offended look from Connie, whose jaw drops.

“Hey! I’m not an author, and I love the gays!” He exclaims.

Jean raises his eyebrows across the table, a smug look on his face. “Well you surely don’t come anywhere near Shakespeare.”

“Stick to Dr. Seuss, Bud.” Sasha says, a lick of evil in her tone as she pats Connie on the shoulder sympathetically. Connie can only huff out a small ‘whatever,’ shaking his head with a grin on his face.

Eventually, your waitress came by to collect your orders, and of course your drinks which were all on Zeke. With a groan, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and gave it up to the woman.

Drinks came in what felt like a matter of minute as you all conversed amongst yourselves. Everyone chatted happily on various topics, and you couldn’t help but notice Jean’s Pearl Jam shirt.

“Eddie Vedder, huh?" You say, tapping your fingers along the side of your drink.

“The one and only.” Jean says with a small chuckle. “You like Pearl Jam?” 

“I grew up with Pearl Jam. My parents took me to a bunch of concerts growing up.” You tell him.

“Same here. ‘Was supposed to go to their last concert but got swept up in work and had to sell my tickets.” He says. 

“Aw, that sucks.” You sigh.

“I know. I was lookin’ forward to it.” Jean says cooly, resting his arm on the table and taking a sip of his drink.

You can’t help but watch as his adams apple lunges up and down his throat, a thick sheen of silence coming between your conversation though his whiskey colored eyes speak for themselves as they study every reachable inch of you.

You found yourself thinking about everything your friends had been saying about him, due to the fact that he didn’t seem as awful as they said based on your first impression.

Despite your longing to stare at him longer, you tear your eyes from him and look down the table, where Eren’s green eyes quickly tore from Jean to you. He had this possesive look on his face, as though if Jean were to get too close to you he would pounce on him and rip him apart limb by limb.

As the waitress came around to take your order, Eren shifted and placed his eyes on her so he could mindlessly flirt and once again force Zeke to purchase yet another round. He only gave in because Eren would pay for his dinner, so a win was a win. 

Your food came, and the volume of your table switched from 100% down to 50% while everyone ate, starving from the built-up hunger they had from moving around all day. 

“Eren are you gonna throw another party to kick off the semester?” Sasha asks, throwing a ketchup-drenched french fry into her mouth. 

Eren shrugs in response. “Probably. I don’t see why not.” 

“Well, as long as the frat dudes don’t get in the way of your plans.” Armin points out.

“Fuck them, man. ‘Specially Floch.” Connie says angril, taking a rather large bite of his cheeseburger. 

Last year, during Eren’s spring break kickoff him and Floch got into a fight that resulted in the cops coming to shut the entire function down. Since then, neither of them have had a real conversation – and the last time they spoke it turned into an intimidation game.

Eren was constantly getting himself into trouble, whether it was at home with his parents or here at school with people he didn’t exactly get along with. He was beyond lucky that he hasn’t been in serious trouble with the school board yet.

“Don’t act like that fight wasn’t your fault, Eren.” Mikasa says, brushing hair out of her face. 

“Oh, come on! He wasn’t invited, ‘nd was already starting shit!” He snaps back. 

Armin chimes in. “Don’t start, guys.”

“I was just telling it as it is.” Mikasa sighs and tears apart a section of her barbecue ribs.

This turned into a playful verbal tussle between Eren, Mikasa and Annie – who were ganging up on him about his moral values and what he viewed as a fair fight. 

People talked through mouthfuls of food, interrupted by the crinkle of checkered butcher’s paper and the slurp of someone sucking down a thick milkshake.

Once everyones baskets were cleared and the bill was paid, you all shambled out of the restaurant at around 9pm and found yourselves walking down the street towards your house after stopping to grab ice cream and wander the streets without any idea if you were going to end up home or not.

There was a small breeze, chilling your face under the night sky and sending a chill down your spine. After living in the heat your whole life, you were used to the cold of the night and craved it in the blistering sun. Though, when you were actually in it you realized how you weren't missing out on anything on the other side of the country.

You adjusted your zip-up jacket on your shoulders and stepped along, comforted by the sounds of your friends all talking together-- something you've grown to love more than anything.

Sasha was the first inside the house as you reached the front stoop, tossing her body onto the soft cushions of the couch where she curled up comfortably. “Don’t take up all the room, Sash.” Annie says, moving Sashas’ legs onto their own path so she can sit down besides her. 

“I go where the food takes me. .” She mumbles, face pressed into the throw pillows.

Annie just laughs a bit and pats her back, reaching towards the tv remote and watching as Mikasa moves to push the coffee table out of the way.

Historia and Ymir had ended up going back to Historia’s room where their music could be heard playing faintly, and everyone else scattered around your large-enough living room to play games on Mikasas’ switch for hours until you all crashed.

It was at about 11:45 when only you, Eren, Sasha, Jean and Connie were left playing Mario Kart, the others having left to go to their own bed or walk down the street to their own house. 

Jean was pretty talkative the entire evening, joining in on conversation and taking turns playing Mario Kart when everyone else was here and active– and at the current time when it’s just the five of you left in the living room taking turns playing Pikmin.

Verbatim from dinner earlier, you and Jean would occasionally catch each others eye from either side of the couch and share a silly look before turning your heads away from one another. 

“Someone should get us more drinks” Eren says, lifting his arms over his head to flexibly stretch and bother everyone by pushing the coffee table with his long legs. 

“Why can’t you get them, freedom boy?” Sasha snorts, desperately button mashing her way through a boss battle. 

“Uh, because it’s your house?” Eren replies sharply. 

“I don’t know if they like the idea of you passing out on their couch.” Jean raises his eyebrows, and you nod. “How many have you had? Like, 6?”

He snaps back in an instant. “Excuse me sir this will be my third drink of the night. I have high tolerance unlike all of you pussies, and will walk myself home without your assistance.”

“Whatever you say.” You shrug, passing your controller to Eren and rising off of the couch to walk back to the kitchen to see what was left. 

“Mind if I come with ya?” Jean speaks from behind you, and you look back with a small smile. “I wanna get something too.”

“Not at all.” You say, opening the fridge. 

Despite bringing two packs of alcohol, there were 5 left in the last pack of surfsides. You barely even remembered who had one, and found yourself shocked that they had gone so fast. 

Sighing, you grab two of the vodka iced-teas, handing one to Jean and putting the other on the nearest surface to eventually give to Eren. 

“Thanks.” He says kind of quietly, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can — his eyes flavouring the round of your ass as you turn around and bump the fridge door shut.

“So how did you meet Eren?” You ask, and he immediately corrects his stare. 

“Oh, I grew up with him. We went to highschool together, Connie too. I was at Santa Barbara community college but transferred.” Jean tells you. “I’m actually gonna play bass for his band.” 

It probably seemed like you were interrogating him at this point, but you couldn’t help your wanting to pick his brain. “Sick. You play bass?” 

“Mhm. I started playing guitar when I was like 10, bass when i was 15.” He says, taking a quick swig of his drink without moving his eyes off of you. “Do you play?” 

“I’ve been playing since i was 13.” You tell him.

“That’s really cool.” He nods, and so do you. 

Jean was quick to open up his phone and begin to boredly text somebody, walking back to his seat on the couch without another care in the world– as if you hadn’t even been there in the first place. 

Silence consumes the kitchen, nothing to be heard except for the running of the air conditioner and playful bickering behind you.

Turning around, you grab Eren’s drink and take it to him in the living room, sitting inbetween him and Jean on the couch with Sasha at your feet and Connie next to her– constantly pushing her controller so she would mess up. 

Sasha was beginning to nod off, head falling forward then snapping back up as she exhaustedly pressed buttons and tried her best to keep up her good work at one of the many games you had played in one night.

She could push herself as long as she really wanted to, and being her friend was one of the wildest rides you’ve ever been on. 

Last year your group of friends went on a ski trip over christmas break and she dragged you out to go sledding at 5 am, and on your days down on the beach she would always be the first in the waves and take you on walks to go look for tidepools. 

She brought out the best in everybody without even trying, and that’s what you loved about her. 

-

You hadn’t even realised you fell asleep for about 30 minutes when she lightly shook you awake, whispering your name and interrupting your dreamless rest.

Connie yawns, rubbing his tired eyes and using Sasha to get himself to his feet. “I need a fuckin’ joint, bro.” 

“Me too. We should get goin’.” Eren says, picking himself up off your couch and grabbing his hoodie from where it was tossed onto your floor.

Sighing, you lift your body up and let your eyes adjust to the light of the tv screen in the dark and notice the lack of a certain body. “Did Jean leave already?” 

“He got a booty call and dipped.” Connie tells you, sliding his vans on. 

“Hm. I see.” You hum.

“I wouldn’t waste your time with him.” 

You look up from picking pillows off of the floor and at Eren who now leaned against the doorframe with hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I saw you talking to him earlier, that’s it.” He shrugs.

A hearty laugh leaves the cushion of your lips. “Do you think I have a little crush on him or something?” 

“No.” He says, plain and simple and you furrow your eyebrows. “I just don’t want him trying to get in your pants.” His response makes you roll your eyes, walking into the kitchen and putting your can of High Noon in the back of the fridge with your name on it.

“Is that what you think of me?” You ask him, mostly teasing.

“Never in a million years.” His eyes go soft as he steps closer to you. "You’re cool, and I don’t want him hurting you.” 

Pushing hair behind your ear, you cross your arms under your chest and watch as he throws out his empty can. “Thanks, but I can handle myself, Blockhead. Besides, I don’t think Jean wants anything to do with me. He’s a fuckboy and I’m not into that.” 

“I saw him lookin’ you up and down all goddamn night. I think he wants somethin’ to do with you.” Eren huffs out a breath of air.

“But when Reiner does it, or you do it that’s so different?” You challenge him.

“Dude, Reiner’s gay.” Connie chimes in, the potent smell of OG Kush rushing your nostrils in an instant How had he lit up so goddamn fast? “Fuck are you guys’ talkin about.” 

“Just trust me.” You tilt your head. “An’ don’t let Connie get hit by a car, or greenout on your way home.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you.” Eren says, motioning for Connie that it was time to hit the road. “You’ll be at Zekes place Wednesday night?” 

“I’m always there. You can count on it.” You tell him

Eren grins as you wave him ‘goodbye’ with your fingers, pushing Connie back into the correct path down the road while keeping his eyes on you. “Atta girl.” 

[not-so-rosyyy]

I am going to the philippines for about a month is there any places you would recommend. For the first two weeks we'll be based in manilla and then we might visit some other places in the country.

hi! sorry for answering this late. I'd like to say that Metro Manila is certainly not on the list of places I would recommend for tourists 😅 I love this city, it’s my birthplace and hometown, but I personally think the Philippines is best experienced outside of the capital.

still, since you say you're staying here for two weeks, these are the places around the metro that you can visit:

If you’re into art and museums:

National Museum of Fine Arts / National Museum of Natural History - they're close by each other so it’s possible to visit in one day

Ayala Museum - love their exhibits and dioramas

Pinto Art Museum - best for contemporary art; 1-2hrs from Manila depending on traffic

If you’re into culture and history:

Binondo Chinatown - oldest Chinatown in the world. pretty cool melting pot of chinese, filipino and western cultures. cheap food.

Intramuros – if you want a taste of the country during our Spanish colony era (NOTE: try to look for tours of Binondo and Intramuros so you’ll get the full experience and context into our history)

If you're into the nightlife

Poblacion, Makati

BGC

If you’re into shopping

Glorietta

Greenbelt

Mall of Asia

SM Aura

Greenhills

outside of Metro Manila, there's a loooot (and I mean, A LOT) of places to visit because we literally have 7,000+ islands lol. these are, I would say, a few of the easier ones for tourists to go to and enjoy:

Palawan – crystal clear waters, hidden lagoons, seafood. the landscape views here are BREATHTAKING, I swear you won’t regret it. go to either Coron or El Nido if you do choose to visit.

Siargao – lovely, laidback island globally known for surfing. the people and vibe here are perfect for those who would like to take a step back from the daily grind.

Bohol – white beaches, adventurous activities, natural wonders. you can find the Chocolate Hills and the Tarsier (also known as the world’s second smallest primates) Sanctuary here

Cebu – this province is huge so there’s lots of things (diving, whale shark watching, canyoneering: you name it) and islands to go to.

Boracay - okay, so this is perhaps the most popular beach destination here, so it's definitely more expensive than other places. the upside is it's also more developed and tourist-friendly (the nightlife on the island is great!)

there are pristine beaches and magnificent views here almost everywhere you go, and all the places I listed above are ripe with those. the Philippines is beautiful, and I hope you're able to discover even a portion of that beauty during your stay. enjoy your trip here!

*all photos in this post are NOT mine, i just stole them from google lol. credits go to all their respective owners*

[jeremylincoln]

NO SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL; KEEP THAT IN MIND...

Name: Jeremy Lincoln

Nickname: Jay, Jem, Remy, Linc

Gender & Pronouns: Cis male & he/him

Age: 37

Occupation: Owner of The Anchor

Origins: Briar Ridge, South Carolina

Neighborhood: Beach Front

Relationship status: Single

SUMMARY: Born and raised in Briar Ridge, Jeremy is the oldest of 4 children. He has two younger sisters that follow after him and a baby brother to round out the family. Growing up he was always very physical, into everything especially if it were sports. He helped his father out on his fishing boat almost from the time he could walk and by the time he entered into junior high school he was a master at handling a boat as well as it’s upkeep. The Lincolns had a restaurant, more like a pub and grill, a surf and turf kind of place called The Anchor that has been passed down through the generations — started by his grandfather. His father and his best friend were fisherman, supplying the area with their hauls and The Anchor as well. Mom stayed home to raise the kids and ended up mostly managing the restaurant when it had been time for Jeremy’s father to take over the business. He was a very gifted baseball player, who won a scholarship to a university in Boston and had a promising future in the MLB one day. Unfortunately, Jeremy went a little wild when he got away from home. More wild than he was when he had been in Briar Ridge. He barely kept his grades up and went to classes but remained a star on the baseball field. It was near his graduation and with offers coming in from MLB that bad news struck and altered his world forever. His father died during a fishing expedition, having gotten caught up in a bad storm. So, he left university behind and his dream and went back home to Briar Ridge to take over The Anchor. His mother died not long after, passing away from heart complications. From there it was completely up to Jeremy to provide for his siblings and keep The Anchor in business. He’s been doing his best.

BIOGRAPHY

trigger warnings: death, heart disease

For Jeremy Lincoln he’d found that life was equally simple as it was complicated. He grew up the oldest of four children in a blue collar household. Something that he’s very proud of to this day, something that comes from beyond honoring his father and the legacy he left behind. It may have been the only way of life he really knew but in his heart and soul Jeremy also knew that he needed nothing more. His father, Harrison, or Harry for short, was a second generation fisherman and had both used that to support and supply a business that was a seed his wife, and Jeremy’s mother, had planted in his ear. To take over Harrison’s restaurant, The Anchor. The goal had been more so for the purpose of longevity, to keep her husband safe and their family in tact and whole. Fishing the seas was dangerous with unpredictable weather and fierce competition. She had also wanted to keep Harry home more as the often long excursions out for a haul were brutal to a family, mostly to a woman taking care of four children close in age.

As soon as he could walk Jeremy was practically climbing on his father’s boat, clearly the spitting image of his old man and destined to be following in his footsteps one day. Jeremy was the oldest, then there were two sisters in the middle, and a baby brother rounded out the family in full. It was just that none of them were quite built like he was. Jeremy was always a bit taller and stronger, rangy and sinewy; resilient. He learned to fish and assist his father on the boat before he’d move on from elementary school, only slowing down when he started playing school and community sports like baseball. By this time he hadn’t been missing too much, Harry was hardly out fishing the seas anymore. His dad’s longtime family friend, Chadwick, had been supplying Jeremy’s grandfather’s restaurant for some time and it was an arrangement that continued when it was time for Harry to take over The Anchor. He couldn’t help himself and still went out to fish when he could get away with it but ownership changed hands and the family transitioned into the bustle of running an establishment that had become a staple in Old Town.

What Jeremy had understood from life was that it was hard work. He grew up helping his mother with his younger siblings, fishing with his dad, juggling school and sports, and then helping out at the grill most evenings. Somehow, none of that stopped Jeremy from being a teenager ripping around town with experimental alcohol in his veins with his friends and teammates. In fact, as mannered as he could be he also had a reputation for being a rowdy teenager. Some part of him was rebelling from the structure and boundaries, from the non-stop working schedule, and an intense need for freedom and independence. That was obtained upon graduation from high school and entry into college. It put a little distance between himself and his family and the discipline that entailed and his first couple of years at university were wild. Too many nights out partying and getting into trouble, worrying his parents with coming up with bail money, and inking tattoos on his body. He had a baseball scholarship, couldn’t care less about academics, and began thinking if he could be good enough to go pro then his family would never have to worry about money ever again.

Sometimes dreams and hopes go up in smoke and that’s exactly what happened to Jeremy when his father met an untimely death. Harrison had had an accident when out fishing, getting caught up in a bad storm that destroyed his boat and left him out to sea. Coast guard search and rescue performed search after search but Jeremy’s father’s body was never found. It devastated the family, perhaps even the close-knit Old Town community. Jeremy never noticed that, too focused on his and his family’s grief and worrying about staying afloat. On the verge of graduating and MLB knocking on his door, he dropped out of university and went home to take over the grill. The family pulled together to run The Anchor, ownership was transferred to Jeremy per his father’s will request and he’s been working the establishment since.

It could be said that a couple of years following his father’s death that his mother died of a broken heart, but the clinical and official ruling for cause of death was heart disease. Feeling more alone than ever, doing his best to keep the ledger of the grill in green and footing the bill of his siblings everything became distant. Eventually it was too late, he’d been gone from the sport too long and his fate was sealed to follow almost exactly in his old man’s footsteps. So, he raised his younger siblings, helped them get into university, and somewhere found a few extra bits of cash to buy a fishing boat. Whatever free time he finds himself with he tinkers away on it, fixing it up and taking it out on short trips. At 35 he finds himself feeling old and weathered but content in that this was the way life was supposed to be.

PERSONALITY TRAITS

(+) persevering, adaptive, industrious

(-) complacent, unpolished, aloof

[merllis]

Percy Jackson Fic Recs

mother to mother by vivelalark

The Goddess of Marriage had no love for mortals – not anymore. Not with all their arrogance and pride and stupidity.

Io was the first to betray her, Jason broke her heart, Ixion was a disgrace, and so she had forsaken them all for her golden throne in the skies, detached and indifferent.

Sally Jackson was no exception. Hera had answered her prayer out of pity for the mortal woman, alone on her birthing bed, and put aside her disdain in a moment of mercy.

The only thing she hated more than mortals were demigods. 

(Or, an AU where Hera, the Goddess of Mothers, crosses paths with the Best Fictional Mother™ aka Sally MFing Jackson) 

Words: 30,086 Chapters: 5/?

An Undertow of Sand by Shujin1

"A half-blood child of the eldest gods, shall reach sixteen against all odds." Who decided the sons of Kronos met the criteria for eldest gods? There are older gods. Elder Gods. And They have been watching. See with the vision granted to your mind, oh Child of Prophecy. For reality is a lie. Your very existence is a flaw. An anomaly. A bend in Fate. And if Fate can bend, then it can break.

Everything is different. Nothing has changed.

Open your eyes…

Words: 260,726 Chapters: 31/?

The Hero Unsung by Sarcastic_Metaphor

“Oh gods,” Percy thought, “I got fucking isekai’ed.”

Thrown back in time and tossed onto the scorching shores of ancient Greece, Percy becomes the unwilling center of attention for an entire army. One destined to sail for Troy and wage a ten year war. If only they could appease the gods keeping them far from their destination first…

Meanwhile, Percy will have to make allies fast while navigating a pantheon of deities who have not yet been tempered by time. Because here, it’s not just the kings who have taken a terrible interest in him; Percy will soon learn just how painful the attention of a god can really be. 

Words: 83,614 Chapters: 15/?

Oh Yeah, No, I Totally Forgot by BlueberryLimoncello

Amphitrite really had only gone to that particular beach to see if there was something special about it. To see if the surf was softer, the wildlife nicer, if the nymphs were maybe prettier. She needed to see if there was a reason Poseidon went there so often.

But the stretch of sand she’d come to was truly pitiful, it wasn’t anything special or different, it was in fact boringly empty.

Or it was meant to be empty.

A small child stared up at her with big green eyes, a mop of dark curly hair, and an armful of various colorful buckets and a tiny shovel.

Oh.

Words: 76,841 Chapters: 33/?

Falling For You by 1967HogwartsGoddess

In an alternate series of events, Percy saves Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. Too bad he can't save himself. As Annabeth leads the Seven on a treacherous quest to meet him at the Doors of Death, Percy fights through a wasteland of pain, torture and difficult choices. Surrounded by monsters, alone in the darkest corner of the underworld, he starts to question whether he's a good kid anymore.

Final chapter is an AU following on from chapter 66. 

Words: 269,696 Chapters: 69/69

the winner takes it all by 5_m0re_minutesDaisy by hautepink

Hera messed up. Percy Jackson wakes up outside the Wolf House to a she-wolf goddess telling him that the Queen of Olympus wiped his memories. Even worse, Hera accidentally put him to sleep for an entire year instead of six months. It's December 2010, and without Percy's help in the war, Gaea and her giants claimed victory and drove the gods into hiding. With the Mist fallen and the world crawling with monsters, Percy must seek out the demigod survivors at Lupa's guidance as they prepare to make their final stand.

Or an AU, dystopian retelling of Heroes of Olympus with a lot of plot twists: the canon divergence is not what you think it is, and the original plot gets entirely upended. 

Words: 208,722 Chapters: 40/?

Daisy by hautepink

An unfortunate sophomore in college finds herself waking up after passing out in the midst of an all-night study session in the middle of a hospital. This would be concerning even without the fact that she seems to be in labor, and Sally Jackson is very much not her name.

Words: 40,341 Chapters: 9/?

Wrath of the Earthshaker by IStillPlayWithLegos

The Gorgons die screaming.

Stheno's wails are heard for miles as she burns from the inside out. The eldest begs for mercy, reminding her killer of his father's kindness. Will Solace thinks of mice and locusts and plagues. Of Apollo Smintheus and the mercy he showed in the Trojan War. He giggles at her pleas and summons more sunlight. The only thing left of her is a pile of golden ashes.

Euryale thinks fighting a daughter of Demeter is beneath her. She learns her lesson at the hands of Katie Gardner, who remains sitting at their table out in the stone garden. She whispers to the bushels of roses and firethorns around her and strokes their petals with a gentle touch. Katie smiles into her teacup as Euryale suffocates, sent back to Tartarus, swaddled in a blanket of thorns.

Percy Jackson guts Medusa, stomach to breast, with black claws, and watches her blood pool at his feet. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel it pulsing. Riptide severs her head in one clean strike, and she dissolves into gold dust. For the second time, she is slain by one named Perseus. There's no Chrysaor or Pegasus to spring from her neck this time, but a child of Poseidon is present to haunt her all the same.

Words: 29,532 Chapters: 9/?

The law of change and the lack thereof by Irisinally 

After the Second Giant War, Percy just wanted a break. Because of that, his mom decided to visit her family back in Britain.

It was just his luck that his cousin was some other kind of special. With the discovery of wizards, a new mythological mystery that could very well be good or bad and Camp Half-blood taking part in some kind of magic games, Percy's break was completely ruined.

Absolutely perfect, isn't it?

Words: 113,002 Chapters: 32/32

My Golden Crown of Sorrow, My Bloody Sword to Swing by mrthology

He stepped forwards, Anaklusmos held out in front of him. No one else was in the throne room—not even Annabeth. It was just him and Luke's body. His feet crunched over shattered bits of marble and glass, the steps loud in the echoing silence. He looked up to the black sky above, terror suddenly clogging his throat. Something was wrong here. He had been sure his dreams would end with Kronos' defeat, that he would no longer be haunted by visions of what could be and would no longer have voices clamouring in his mind.

Apparently not.

———

Percy refused godhood standing in the ruins of Olympus, Luke’s body sprawled at his feet. Fate, however, has a different plan for him, and for them all. 

Words: 8,000 Chapters: 1/1

Camping By The Shore by withay for JadeStar

Estelle Blofis is too sick to go camping with the Girl Scouts, and this is the worst thing to ever happen in her six years of life. Luckily, her big brother is willing to create a camping trip for her. Told from their parents point of view.

Words: 5,628 Chapters: 1/1

Full Disclosure, I am a Monster by NOTTODAYARTT

It made a sound that sounded halfway between a growl and an exasperated sigh, "Kid. I really don't want to drag you out here, but I will if I need to. Now here's how this is gonna go, you could one, come out and," it shuffled around and grabbed something from its pocket, the object popped and then started hissing, "share this delicious cherry coke with me, or B I can drag you out by your arm and you'll start crying and I'll feel bad, because you're crying… So kid, what's it going to be?"

(In other words, monster!Percy because there's not enough of that in this fandom) 

Words: 10,235 Chapters: 4/7

Hired Hands by neighborhood_yogurt 

"A short, plump man in a three-piece suit stood over a costumed child wrapped in a small boat chain. The man had a smoking revolver in his hand leveled at a spot right next to the kid’s ear. His ridiculous top hat sat low over his eyes, but his hooked nose was just long enough to jut past the brim. The lighting in the warehouse wasn’t great, but Percy recognized him immediately. It was the Gotham supervillain Penguin, and Percy was on his godsdamned payroll."

Words: 50,325 Chapters: 12/17

Just Add Water by seasunwrites

“Don’t you feel it, Sal?” he said, pulling her closer.

She looked up at him and met his eyes.

“What?”

“The sea,” Poseidon explained. “It rises with the moon. Over and over. One of the only sureties in this world. Over and over, the tide will rise.”

Sally gave him a funny look. “Well, of course I know about the tides and that it’s a full moon—”

“Yes, but do you feel it?”

.

It's strange, how you add a bit of water and suddenly...Percy isn't human anymore.

(aka an h20 au that no one asked for) 

Words: 58,434 Chapters: 10/?

Inkspell. by youngjusticewriter

Because of a passing breeze the man’s trench coat and some fallen leaves drifted in the wind. “That reminds me - I suppose it’s rude of me not to introduce myself! It’s a pleasure to meet you my new friend. I’m Osamu Dazai.”

And that was how Percy’s new life began.

[\]

Or, Percy saves Dazai from drowning while underwater. Dazai is naturally curious how that worked considering Percy was holding his wrist.

Words: 34,420 Chapters: 8/?

After the Gates of Prophecies by mrthology

"They know something has irreversibly changed," Juno said.

"I'm Greek," Percy protested, ignoring the roaring in his chest, the pull the Roman demigods and legacies had on the very fibres of his being. He wondered if they even knew he existed, that there was a new God walking amongst them.

"You are something new, Perseus. There has never been a god like you before. You've terrified us all." Juno paused, allowing Percy to watch the thriving city. "You are going to change us all. I simply do not know if you will change us for better, or for worse."

—

Percy refused godhood standing in the ruins of Olympus, Luke's body sprawled at his feet. Fate, however, had a different plan.

Words: 41,000 Chapters: 12/30

Of Storms and Bloodlines by inkncoffee

When people thought of Poseidon they thought of the sea; Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, Commander of the Waves, the Stormbringer. Upon consideration they would add Earthshaker, for catastrophic events such as earthquakes were hard to forget. Few remembered, however, that Poseidon was also Lord of the Horses. Stormbringer and Earthshaker tended to squeeze that one out.

Percy had been able to talk to horses for as long as he could remember. He liked to think he understood them. Although he's not entirely sure why the new stallion thinks he's its foal.

Poseidon is not jealous that Percy thinks a horse makes a better father figure than himself. At all.

Words: 12,780 Chapters: 3/3

you with the sea in your eyes (you have the ocean at your fingertips) by SenjuMizusaya

(Fem!Percy)

After finally defeating Kronos, Percy had expected peace, not a flash of molten gold after which she found herself as a twelve year old girl in a village recently reduced to rubble, surrounded by forest and Ancient Greek.

A little too much Ancient Greek.

 (Or, Percy is flung back into the past and gets a hands-on history lesson when it comes to living during the Greek classism.) 

Words: 52,321 Chapters: 9/? 

my soul opposes fate (with daily will) by visiblyuncomfortablIf 

Percy Jackson rejecting godhood was not the plan, and so the Fates must act. So, as the Giant War ends and Gaea is defeated, the Moirai make a god out of the boy destined for it. No one but them is happy about this decision, but now Percy has to learn to navigate his new powers and new life whether he likes it or not.

there's one good thing to come out of it though, it's the new friendship he's somehow found himself in with a certain sun god… 

Words: 62,177 Chapters: 20/?

A Quarter Life Crisis by Butterflies_Stormclouds

Percy turned down godhood in the hope of having the white picket fence dream with Annabeth. Now he's in his early twenties, has the girl, his flat and midway through a degree and it's not quite as peaceful and fulfilling as sixteen year old Percy had imagined. But nothing in his life has ever gone smoothly and "retirement" doesn't quite fit into Percy's vocabulary all that well.

Words: 17,258 Chapters: 5/5

I've been here before by Butterflies_Stormclouds

Percy has been present when a lot of major deities have "died." Two months before getting married, Percy falls down the rabbit hole when parts of those deities left within him fills the missing pieces of his soul a little too well. 

Words: 44,283 Chapters: 17/19

bring the forgotten dawn by poisedwalrus

“What is it?” Grover asks, “What’s with that weird look on your face?”

“Just trying to figure out if turning me in will get us enough bounty money to buy our way to LA.” Percy says, craning his neck towards the news van.

“We are not turning you in to the police.” Grover presses his head back into the alleyway.

“Why not?” Percy says. They could use a bit of cash. “You guys can just break me out afterwards, right?”

Annabeth looks like she’s considering it.

“No, guys,” Grover says. “No.”

If Percy has to spend the rest of his life cleaning up after the gods, then he might as well start from the beginning. 

Words: 21,890 Chapters: 6/6

Symbol of the Ocean's Love by WardofWinters (QoLife)

Aphrodite doesn't use a dove to claim her kids, she was born of the sea. She rose from the depths of the ocean, crafted of seafoam. No, she doesn't use a dove to claim her children, her little pearls, she uses her sacred conch shell.

Problem is, so does Triton. 

Words: 11,963 Chapters: 2/5

Hold Tight and Pretend It's a Plan by Rynna_Aurelia

Olympus has fallen.

The second Gigantomachy has ended far differently than the first, and in Gaea's triumph, the world has been torn apart. But the Fates have seen what ends their failed meddling have brought, look on at the dead—and undo what should never have happened the only way they possibly can.

Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, is returned to his twelve-year-old self, memories intact and determined to save everyone he can. But he is not alone.

The Moirai underestimated the strength of the Lord of Time when stealing his power, and there is something about this particular demigod brat that intrigues him. . .

Perseus Jackson came roaring to life with a violent gasp, green eyes wild. After a moment of panicked flailing and struggling to breathe, his fear-filled gaze settled upon a girl with blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, her face stern and unimpressed.

"You drool in your sleep."

Words: 112,485 Chapters: 21/21

[rpxgifs]

[ abigail cowen | she/her | 19 ]  rumor has it that ARIA CORDEAUX has been seen wandering around town. they are a WITCH/WEREWOLF who is one of the SURVIVORS. they are known to be DISPUTATIOUS but deep down they are MAGNANIMOUS. when it comes to the brewing conflict in new orleans they’re on the side of THE MASQUERADE.

name: aria nova cordeaux nickname: ari age: 19 birthday: september 12, 2009 species: witch/werewolf hybrid gender: cisfemale pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual hair color: red eye color: blue family:

grayson danes (father)

cordelia cordeaux (mother)

raven cordeaux (sister)

cameron cordeaux (uncle)

tara kenner (”aunt”)

casper kenner (cousin)

ember kenner (cousin)

wesley cordeaux (uncle)

sierra cordeaux (aunt)

maddox cordeaux (cousin)

kennedy cordeaux stefanie salvatore (cousin)

logan cordeaux (cousin)

riley cordeaux (cousin)

winter edelman (aunt)

chris edelman (uncle)

carter edelman (cousin)

juliana cordeaux (grandmother)

history:

Growing up in California, Aria’s life was anything but normal. She born to a werewolf father who was destined to be alpha and a witch mother who survived a crazed city with an even more crazed coven and had a witch/werewolf hybrid sister. But their parents tried their hardest to make sure that the girls grew up with as normal of a life as was possible. 

That was until they started to tap into their powers and really experiment with magic. Cordelia taught the girls as much as she could. But the two of them began excelling faster than she could teach. Aria put up one hell of a fight, wanting nothing more than to stay in her own little bubble in California with her family. She was happy, she was comfortable. But her parents insisted that it was the best thing for her, to be around other witches, to learn from the best. 

It was nice being around her cousins, seeing them more than once for a couple weeks in the summer. But that was about it. Aria studied enough to make it through her classes and fly under the radar of any overly concerned teachers. She was surviving. That was until the one night that Casper practically dragged her out of her bed, forcing her to socialize and go to a party. 

Aria was completely out of her element, staying away from the crowd, until a nice blonde witch came up to her and started making conversation. She had seen him in classes before, but she hadn’t talked to him. She barely knew is name. small talk didn’t come easily for the redhead. But for some reason, between the two of them, the conversation easily flowed. It was without a second thought that she was talking and laughing. 

From that night on, Aria was like a completely different person - a person that she hadn’t been in a long time. Not since she left California. Austin brought out the best in her. She began excelling in her classes, becoming stronger. But the world came crashing down around her that summer when she took a human life while surfing. It was an accident, one could argue that she wasn’t at fault. But it couldn’t be denied. Her curse was triggered. She was officially a hybrid. She feared that her transition every month would change her. She feared that it would scare Austin away. But each full moon, Austin was sat outside her cell and was there the next morning. 

Aria’s life was good. She was happy. She was powerful. And then she had a ring from the most perfect man who loved every bit of her, even the broken bits. She had everything she could have ever asked for. But, just as it had once before, when she truly began to feel happy and comfortable, the universe had other plans for her when her mother, her sister, and herself were sent away by Grayson in an attempt to save them from the fate that he was about to suffer when a group from his pack attempted to overthrow him as alpha and he subsequently lost his life. 

Though her family had settled in New Orleans, she was riddled with guilt for essentially leaving her father alone to die. She felt as if she could barely make it through day-to-day, let alone care about any sort of supernatural war going on around them. Her goal for every day was to get out of bed, to manage her grief. If she was able to do anything else, it was a win in her book. 

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 8: Surfing a singular couch

Hola a todxs! Niko back here with week 8 of studying abroad in Madrid. I just realized that I never fully explained my usual intro ‘Hola a todxs’ so I took the time to do that in a footnote* for anyone curious :).

Anyways, this week I’ll write a little bit more of a traditional blog format — I’ll talk about some recent trips I’ve gone on. For those wondering how my progress is going on waking up earlier and appreciating Madrid, I’ll report some small successes: I ventured out to study in a cafe last week and enjoyed the warmer air (spring is starting to be sprung!!), and went out to dinner in the oldest restaurant in the world last night (called El Botin) :).

This weekend, I was in Amsterdam, and the weekend before that, I was in Sevilla. Recap time.

Couchsurfing in Amsterdam

Amsterdam is a very special city. Immediately when I stepped out of the train station, I was hit with the bustling scene of Centraal — the combination of the castle-esque buildings poking up in every direction, bikers going every which way, and canals slicing through the streets created a unique energy that I haven’t felt in any other city I’ve been to. It felt distinctly Dutch, and clearly had a subculture that can only be found in Amsterdam.

This weekend I was meeting one of my best friends Charlotte in the Netherlands, a friend I’ve had since middle school who’s spending her spring break in Europe. She arrived on Saturday, so I had the time to explore the city solo for a little bit before she arrived.

The second thing that struck me about this city: everyone speaks English, and they all speak it very well. Although the same can be said about many young people in countries in Spain and Italy, in the Netherlands, English almost felt like the default — not Dutch. There was not a single time that I felt the uncomfortable feeling of being disrespectful for not attempting to speak the local language, and there was not a single time that I came across someone that I couldn’t communicate with. Learning English has clearly been ingrained in the culture of the Netherlands (along with many Nordic countries), which calls attention to the question of how this occurred in the first place. At the very least, it makes tourism much easier.

The first thing that struck me: bikes. If you’ve never been to Amsterdam, the first thing to know is that everyone bikes everywhere, all the time. It’s said that pedestrians rule the streets in NYC. In Amsterdam, bikers rule — there’s actually more bikes than residents in the city. There’s bike lanes everywhere, and you’ll never be farther than a 20 minute trip to any centrally located destination.

So naturally, I rented a bike, and I felt pretty awesome joining the hoards of commuters zigzagging through Amsterdam. I made my way over to the Van Gogh museum, which I can confidently say now was my favorite museum I’ve ever visited.

I took a trip to Amsterdam with my family when I was around 10 years old and actually visited the Van Gogh then, but I can’t say that I remember it too much. Now, with 21 years under my belt, an appreciation for art, and a greater understanding of the human experience, the main exhibit in this museum quite literally brought me to tears.

Something about the way this museum told Van Gogh’s story through his art — from his starting place, through his simultaneous progression as an artist and mental health struggles, to his ultimate suicide — really touched me. I could really feel the emotion Van Gogh had imbued into his paintings with his brushstrokes and colors in a way that I had never felt looking at visual art before. The painting “Almond Blossom” was a highlight — a painting that Van Gogh considered to be one of his best works, which was a gift to his nephew. I would highly recommend a visit if you enjoy impressionist art.

On Saturday, I explored the Rijksmuseum (which is massive) before Charlotte arrived. When her train got in, we found each other and went together to meet our host for the weekend: A film student at the University of Amsterdam named Tassos, who hails originally from Athens, Greece. Tassos graciously offered up his pull-out couch for us to sleep on for the weekend, in his apartment overlooking one of Amsterdam’s many canals.

So, how’d we connect to our gracious host in the first place? Through a website called couchsurfing.com. Couchsurfing is an app that connects its members to a global community of travelers. Hosts can offer up their home for travelers to stay in free of charge, and travelers can message hosts to find lodging (and connection). Couchsurfing communities in various cities also organize events — meetups, tours, even parties — for members of the community to join at their leisure. People use couch surfing to meet interesting people, form connections, and to exchange stories/wisdom, all of which is right up my ally.

Admittedly, the idea seemed sus to me at first. You have to have trust that your host will be truthful, responsive, and safe to spend time with. The reference system alleviates this greatly (you write reviews of the people you spend time with), but the process still requires a healthy amount of trust. From Charlotte and I’s interaction with Tassos leading up to our trip, I had built up a good amount of trust — and that paid off last weekend.

A clear pattern is emerging from my travels: experiencing cities through the guidance of a local enhances the experience 100 fold. No matter how much research you do, there’s such a large part of cities that can only be discovered through lived experiences — which, oftentimes, is where the most direct connection to local culture can be found. This connection is what I seek wherever I go, and is something I felt greatly staying with Tassos this weekend.

Over the course of the weekend, Charlotte and I explored the city and its parks (highly recommend Vondelpark) on our bikes, shared delicious home-made Pastitsio with Tassos (his grandma’s recipe), went to the largest flea market in Europe (I got a sick Matrix-style trenchcoat), ate tons of delicious food (someone say stroopwafel?) and went out to an amazing community centered techno party in the outskirts of the city. It was wonderful to spend time with Charlotte outside of Virginia, and connecting with Tassos through our shared cultural background, interests, and life experiences was fulfilling. You can only get so close to someone over the course of a few days, but I know that I’ve made an friend that I’m looking forward to crossing paths with again sometime in the future, wherever that may be.

(Not so) Sunny Sevilla

I know that I’ve been mentioning this trip for a long time in these blogs without actually talking about any of the details, so I think it’s about time. Sevilla is a city in the south of Spain, famous for its flamenco, sunny weather, interesting architecture, and distinctly Andalucian vibe. This was a trip organized by CEA, the company managing the study abroad program I enrolled in with IPE. Me and around 80 other students in the program took a short train ride down to get there, lodged in a nice hotel (amazing buffet breakfast), and got to take a few tours of the major sites to see in the city.

It never rains in Sevilla — except, somehow, the one weekend we were there. It put a bit of a damper on our first two days, but it made the last 1.5 all the more marvelous when the sun finally shone out from behind the clouds. I figured that telling the details in the form of pictures might be more interesting (and would help keep the word count of this blogpost down a bit). Check on the ALT description for more details on the trip :).

Making lists has become (yet) a new hobby of mine this semester. I bookmark all of the places that I visit and write little personal notes to go along with them with two goals in mind: one, that I might keep a better digital footprint of my trips so that I can remember them better (especially if I ever want to return). Two: for all of you! If just one of my lists can help one of the readers of this blog find something worth seeing, I would be more than content.

Here's Amsterdam...

and here's Sevilla!

As always, don’t hesitate to reach out with questions about more specific recommendations/vibe checks for any of the cities I go to.

Hasta la proxima semana!

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

economos@umich.edu 

*Hola a todxs translates directly to “Hello to all”, or “Hello everyone”, which is simple enough. However, the x in the final word might seem out of place — why do I use it? The word todxs is usually written as todos or todas, as many nouns and adjectives in Spanish are gendered. When you see an x at the end of a Spanish word, it’s likely because this word has been made gender neutral, which exists outside of the accepted rules of the Spanish language but is widely used in online communities and in the media. An @ symbol is also commonly used (tod@s). In the gender neutral form, the x/@ is pronounced with an ‘e’ sound, so we would say “Hola a todes”. Consequenly, some words like ‘amigxs’ can be written as ‘amigues’ so as to take a more ‘normal’ looking form. Now you know!

[lingyunxiang]

Los Cabos

At the tip of Mexico's Baja California Peninsula is the magical resort destination of Los Cabos. This unique environment pulls together contrasting concepts to create a visually stunning backdrop. Known as "Land's End," this is a place where worlds collide. Arid desert and rugged mountains meet, and the Pacific Ocean and Sea of Cortez become one. The natural beauty of this place is part of the reason Los Cabos is such a popular destination.

Cabo San Lucas is located on the Pacific side of the peninsula and features scenic desert landscapes and pristine golden beaches. Starting as an isolated fishing village with few settlers, Cabo has since developed into a world-class getaway. Today Cabo has popular resorts, pulsating nightlife, delicious dining options, a world-class marina, and the biggest fishing event in the world. The waters around Cabo offer some of the best deep-sea fishing opportunities around making this the place to go for those who want to tangle with the giants of the sea.

Connecting Cabo San Lucas to San Jose del Cabo is a golfer's paradise known as the Corridor, a 20-mile stretch of highway that cuts between rolling desert hills and the Sea of Cortez. Seven renowned courses designed by greats such as Jack Nicklaus, Robert Trent Jones Jr., Tom Fazio, and Tom Weiskopf, lie along this coastline making this the premier place for those wanting to play a few rounds. Not only is this the place for golfers, but this is also a place for those who enjoy the water. The all-inclusive resorts in this area have beautiful beaches and safe waters that are ideal for swimming, snorkeling, surfing, and scuba diving.

San Jose del Cabo, the second half of this region, rests on the Sea of Cortez. This old pirate hideout turned into a center of commerce with trade ships stocking up on supplies along their journeys. The transformation from a shipping port to a famous resort destination hit in the 1980s with the completion of the international airport allowing infrastructure to support growing development in the region. Today visitors flock to the area to explore top attractions such as the Mission of San Jose del Cabo, founded in 1730, and the Art District featuring works from local and visiting artisans. Beach lovers can gaze upon migrating gray whales, spot marine birds, and witness the excitement of turtle hatchlings as they emerge and venture into the sea for the first time.

[artemiseamoon]

The Edge of Dawn

Donald Pierce x Brandi Cross

Oneshot | Words: 2.209 | A western/zombie/post apocalypse crossover | fic info

Summary: The old world is gone, it fell 7 years ago. Brandi has survived and lived various versions of herself. After leaving a bad situation in the town of Ruby Rise, a trip Southwest puts her in the crosshairs of a particularly menacing and charming man named Donald Pierce.

Warnings: old west stuff, killing, kidnapping, surf defense murder (against creepy men)

Also inspired by this

An: Is this a one shot? A two-shot? I don’t know yet. Just winging it! The best way to find out if I add more is by subscribing to this on a03 (and following my update blog on tumblr). I honestly have like 5+ notes about the background and world building for this, so chances are high I will add more. Enjoy the preview!

Read in full on A03

The old way of life was dead, deader than dead. 7 years ago, the world fell.

Modern civilization was no more, the power grid is a thing of the past and nature swiftly took back the land. The heat got hotter, the cold - colder. In the last 7 years, so much has changed and there have been various types of words within one.

It started with extreme weather, followed by an ancient disease released from the earth as it got hotter. Many died, many were infected and whoever was left tried to survive or take over. The wars started and continued; they still go on today.

Along with disease, there was the mutant outbreak. It was considered a conspiracy theory that mutants existed, but as soon as the world fell, the government was trying to use them to their advantage. Many escaped, and a group of them made it their mission to take down government institutions before disappearing into the abyss.

The ones left? Well, there out there somewhere, either hiding in plain sight or in communities of their own. Then there’s the select few who stay, loudly, and usually hold some position of power or act as enforcement in a community. Many, after being captured and used by the government, got revenge and sought refuge elsewhere if they survived.

As people started to rebuild after the mutant-government wars, everything took on a tone akin to the old west. What used to be preserved sites and tourist destinations, soon took over the West all over again. Instead of watching a western on tv as she streamed from her couch, Brandi was living in one.

Read more on A03

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[watatsumiis]

you and your f/o(s) finally have time to relax and decides to take some extra days off this festive season! where are you going and what will you be doing? 🌴

no pressure in answering, and please take your time! <3

Ooooooh (twirling my hair (gay coded)) this is such a fun question, ill answer it under the cut since ive got a feeling im gonna ramble!! thanks so much for asking this, it was so fun to answer :D

my self ship blog is @rowavolo in case anyone is interested in more of these sorts of drabbles, they're so fun and silly <3

Well, since the festive season is always warm for me and I don't cope well with the heat, a lot of the activities would probably be shaped by that skdjjkdfs

Neuvillette and I go on a trip! Not super far out, but we stay in a place close to the beach (with air conditioning, of course,) and spend the days napping away (or doing some low effort crafts or cooking together!) and then go on walks in the morning and evening, even going to go sit on the beach late at night and hold hands under the light of the stars while we listen to the waves!! I imagine the time would be mostly unstructured and calm, with a few scheduled Events for us to work around, but a lot of it really depends on how we're both feeling that day, and we may choose to be randomly spontaneous and do something a bit wacky every now and then (including cooking soup over a bonfire on the beach. simply because we can.)

Ayato doesn't often get time off, so I feel like he'd pack it full with all the things he's been wanting to do since he last had a break like this. He'd have an annotated itinerary and will do his very best to get Ayaka and Thoma to be able to join us! He likes to be able to wander the markets at his leisure, but also going on long walks or checking out monuments and events and stuff like that! If it's possible, he's almost definitely swinging to get out of Inazuma. I think one of the things he'd love to have a chance to see is the Lantern Rite, so Liyue is the number one destination! Fancy dining, interesting stalls, storytellers, you name it, it's on Ayato's itinerary in itty bitty writing that only Thoma can even begin to decipher. Of course, there's definitely a few cheesy little dates for just us strewn throughout there too.

Zhongli has probably been planning for something like this for a while - Hu Tao is pretty lenient with giving him time off, especially around this time of year. Of course, he'd definitely have the Lantern Rite on his list as well, but it's definitely not at the tippy top of his list. Ideally, he'd organise what is essentially a several day long hike/camping trip to show me places of interest around Liyue, including interesting ruins and statues and even places with fauna or flora he thinks i'll like looking at. In the end, it's just us infodumping back and forth at each other for hours on end about whatever subjects come to mind as we walk, occasionally stopping for picnic breaks or to look at some cool animal that's passing by :3

Diavolo organises a trip up to the human realm. He certainly doesn't want to miss out on the warm summer weather and all the human world traditions i've mentioned to him! Anything summer-y that you can think of, we're probably doing it. Sailing, surfing, fishing, playing on the beach, water parks, drive in theaters, everything! He probably plans way too much to do in the short amount of time he has off, and thus has to extend the holiday (much to Barbatos' chagrin). He totally wears a big floppy hat, short shorts (that his thighs are basically bursting out of jksdfhkfd), sunglasses and those painfully bright button up shirts (stolen from me) as well as the most horrific bright red crocs (covered in charms, obviously).

[rocavendish]

INTRO. ROMAN CAVENDISH

[cis man and he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ROMAN CAVENDISH]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ROBBIE AMELL]. You must be the [THIRTY-FOUR] year old [BUSINESSMAN]. Word is you’re [GENIAL] but can also be a bit [CAVALIER] and your favorite song is [SUPERPOSITION BY YOUNG THE GIANT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [FISHER'S COVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

TW: car accident, mention of death

Roman was born and raised in Aurora Bay to an old-money family known as the Cavendish. Being the oldest of two, the expectation fell to him at a young age, with a meticulously planned path to continue the family legacy.

For the longest time he had thought it was the best thing possible and with a platinum spoon at his disposal, why not? He excelled in the classroom and even more at athletics. Roman was the well-rounded, charismatic, and thoughtful kid.

Stanford bound, he was continuing on the trajectory that was destined for him. All was going well up until he got the sickening phone call his junior year of college. His mother had passed away in a car accident and just like that their family went to a lovely balance of four down to three.

It flipped his whole world upside down. His last two years of college, Roman was going through the motions, finding no joy in anything that he once loved. It was only being in the water that was his saving grace.

Sailing, surfing, swimming. It brought him a state of peace over everything else. Being by the water was the thing that bonded him to his mother in his youth. Therefore Roman wanted access to it all the time and to make it his life.

He's been committed to that lifestyle since he was twenty-two. Cruising along the west coast, checking off every beach town, lake, and marina. Of course, he's still tied to the family business since the persistence of his father has yet to yield. Ideally, Roman can take off and travel the whole world indefinitely and pass off the family company to his baby sister.

For now, he remains in Aurora Bay in between his quick trips around the globe. He's hoping he'll be able to get his dad to transfer the company succession to that of his sister and let him be free from these restraints once and for all.