#pope with parents who work all the time just to provide

[philtatosbuck]

the sooner we (read: you people) realize kie’s parents aren’t shitty for wanting better for her the sooner we can be normal

[ofblemishwithin]

Paths intertwined

@thehellsakook 

Outer Banks; it was made up of two sides. The rich freaks that lived on figure 8 and the pogues which were known as the people that had to scrape by. JJ was neither; well he was a pogue; it was his known family. But he wasn’t the guy that had people looking out for him. He had a dad but he was far from the father figure you’d picture in your mind. He was the guy that scraped by, with working on boats; that helped the rich across the town in order to make the ends meet, but he was also the dirty guy that tended to feed off any person that was willing to toss him money. 

JJ witnessed it first hand; the poker nights growing up. The smell of beer that stayed within these walls. The lack of food provided. JJ knew he had to count on himself. It’s why John B, Pope, and kie and I all stuck together. We helped each other when we felt in a bind. Kie was able to help more considering she lived in the big house; she was a kook yet she liked slumming it with us. She didn’t care what her parents said, all the warnings based on the rumors. It was always kooks vs the pogues what could I say? JJ though he had to fend for himself; he was the one who walked around at night; waiting for the wreck to close up; and Kie would help hand out any extra food the restaurant had. He didn’t like asking for help nor would you hear him say the words. But the pogues knew; his dad he was unreliable, the only person he could count on was himself. 

It was another start to a another school year. One JJ was dreading, he knew in order to make it life you had to learn. YOu had to sit through each boring class. He was his own kind of smart. He could pick up on cues, he could pick up on the simple concepts; but when it came to applying himself he froze. He rather let Pope do the work; and he’d feed the notes of each subject to him. Pope was the brains of the pogues; he was the school scholar that wanted to go to an ivy league school, and I had no doubt in my mind he’d make it. But me; I was barely getting by. John B had the smarts like myself; his quick thinking. But would we amount to anything? Heck no. All that in mind; JJ had pushed the simple supplies of a notebook, a few pencils into his backpack. Using his hand he zipped it; as he heard the calling from the windows. 

“ JJ Man let’s go.” John b neither of his friends dared to stay inside especially when his dad’s truck was parked outside. He had pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Taking his gray baseball cap he brought it to rest over his sandy blonde hair. A pair of shorts he wore; an an old white T-shirt, simple was all the teen did. He closed the door to his room and made his way through the small home. He paused when he saw his dad head facing down against the arm rest of the couch. Same old day; he was passed out probably from his work last night; or the money he managed to trick out of his so called buddies. I had to roll my eyes as I took the keys for the boat; for after school. Tucking the key into my shorts pocket. I had stepped through the swinging doors spotting Kie and Pope. Eyes moved to try to find our missing friend; the one I had heard inside. Ducking my head down; I had felt a pair of arms wrap around my neck from behind. “ Took you long enough.” John B, I had used my hands to push behind me; in order to push the male down. 

This was us; joking around; laughing on the walk to the dreadful day at school. I never cared what anyone thought; the pogues were my life. The only ones I truly cared about. The walk was a bit longer compared to figure 8, as we stepped onto the pavements we caught sight of the sport cars, of the fancy cars; you’d dream of riding in. I had to roll my eyes; just another day. Topper and Sarah and their crew were hanging out by the small wall before the stairs. We had shrugged our shoulders as we passed. Stepping one at a time on the stairs until we walked right into the building. 

Pope and Kie had walked the other way as John B and I did our hand shake an agreement to meet at next class; math my worse. I had science first; the male ducked his textbook under his arm as he walked the distance to the class. Cap blinding his eyes from making eye contact with anyone. He had found a spot in the third row; the desk in front of him as he placed his book down. His legs in front of him. Hand had moved to rest on the edge of the desk when he spotted the brunette from the sports car; a kook. Figures. To his surprise she was directed to sit next to him; oh great, cue the roll of his eyes. JJ had barely acknowledged her. “ Ah okay.” As if I was giving out my name to strangers; attention drawn to the teacher as if I intended on paying attention.

[cassipedia]

Review of Cabrini (2024)

Hey, Cassipedia, what're you watching?

My first viewing of Cabrini was during National Women's Day, as the story is a dramatic retelling of the Catholic missionary Francesca Cabrini as she travels from Italy to America in 1889 to help impoverished and suffering, Italian orphan children while living in the depths of a dangerous city of poor working conditions and cutthroat criminals, and an ambivalent upper class.

Do you recommend watching it?

It’s absolutely a recommended watch. It has beautiful visuals and immersing acting that handles this dark topic with respectful seriousness and dignity. It also stirred my heart in desiring to further bridging the gap between people.

What's the story like?

It is based on a real-life figure and series of events, but it is told as a story rather than a biography. It is 1889 and we are introduced to Mother Cabrini, a woman who suffered from a severe lung disease and was told as a young girl that she would be bedridden, only for her to grow up, very much able to walk and make a journey to the Vatican to have her proposal for orphanages in China to be turned down by a cardinal. But her persistence brings her an audience with the Pope, whom recognizes her zeal and provides a counter-offer; he approves her missionary work, but only if she starts in New York, where it’s apparent that Italian immigrants are suffering, ignored by the higher classes and those whom had not learned their language. She is faced with challenges of a grim reality of giving an abused orphan and taste of lovingly-made food, a safe place to sleep and hope only to hear news of that same child’s life being claimed due to the violent and unstable conditions of the surrounding community. It is a story of unrelenting love and determination under immense pressure. This movie does not shy away from showing the darkness and danger of the world, in all its intensities, and it’s all the more gratifying when a glimmer of hope begins to come through.

What does the movie look like?

It's gorgeous, even painting a masterful but tragic picture of poverty. I recall the way that rays of sunlight practically glowed like white gold when they filtered into rooms choked by dust as rats scattered across the floors. The nighttime was black oily, glinting with barely contained fire in metal barrels and the flashes of moonlight and pocket knives. The sewers below were dingy and people scurried like rodents yet it had a floor of water that created a mirror world of those passing through, with a surreal beauty despite the horrible situation. There was darkness in the quiet, early morning, easing into purple then broken open by a silent yet brilliant orange-golden sunrise. The nuns and their black habits and capes gave them an unmistakable silhouette in every scene, as if they were a mysterious ghost. It was beautiful and memorable from the cheery and hopeful scenes to even the tragic and uncertain times.

How are the actors and actresses?

It’s safe to say that the actors and actresses did exceedingly well. Cristiana Dell'Anna as Francesca Cabrini was very compelling in her strength and dignity, as well as displaying her caged anger. Yet she frightened me terribly when the movie went silent and all you see and hear were Cabrini’s wheezing, pained coughs of her lung disease, leaving me wondering if this burning fire of determination was going to snuff out, alone in her room. At the core of this story, it is not a battle against starvation or neglect, but a battle of the heart, to stir the residents of New York whose hearts have gone cold and blackened, ignoring the cries of orphans while their parents die of sickness in their arms. Federico Ielapi as Paolo and Rolando Villazón as DiSalvo were amazing as these children in need, not just there to be objects of suffering, but active individuals, as lost children desperately reaching out for comfort in their broken ways. But we see how the presence of Cabrini and her sisters starts to change hearts, especially in the case of Romana Maggiora Vergano as Vittoria, a prostitute who slowly finds herself hoping for better and wanting change while the oily hands of her old life reach out and threaten to drag her back. We see the hearts stirred of the Italian immigrants, whom had grown hopeless and complacent to their situation. And one of the many powerful scenes in the movie was when Jeremy Bobb as New York Times reporter Theodore Calloway narrated a chilling news story after Cabrini opened his eyes to the suffering of his neighbors, right beneath his feet. I enjoyed also clever touches, like how the characters switch between speaking Italian and English, and they generally switch to English as a sign of commitment to Cabrini and her sisters from her order choosing to stay, despite everyone else trying to repel them from making any changes. This movie is rife with thoughtful decisions.

Who would like this movie most?

Though I am no history buff nor anything close of an expert, I think it is a kind of movie that those whom are fascinated by the era of the early 1900’s and depiction of the trials of the Industrial Revolution era would be interested in. It is not a film for younger audiences with the heavy topics it tackles, but it is a good movie for young adults and up.

Where can I watch it?

Cabrini is still available in some theaters and it is definitely worth the watch on the big screen. It is likely set to be available for streaming afterwards on places like Roku.

Final thoughts?

It remains in my memory. It was released on National Women’s Day, but I don’t think it would be fair to limit it to simply women, as that I think would defeat the point of its message. It’s a homage to how a particular person in time changed history in a way we still feel. It is a movie that doesn’t shy away from darkness in order to shed light on it and reflect that onto ourselves and ask, “What will you do now?” It's a good movie for those looking for something that challenges you to examine your heart towards others, like it did for me.

[saltwater-and-woodsmoke]

Stupid Things (Good Outcomes) || JJ Maybank || Prologue

All things considered, Los Angeles wasn’t a bad place to end up when you’re freshly twenty three. Sure, it’s no Pelican, North Carolina, but JJ Maybank likes well enough.

Words: 1,982

Pairings: JJ Maybank x OFC (Mariella “Mari” Diaz); mentioned Eddie Diaz x Evan “Buck” Buckley.

Warnings: mentions of drowning, sparknotes version of OBX as told by JJ Maybank. Eddie gets called a tonto. Mentions of Eddie being shot

Also on ao3

All things considered, Los Angeles wasn’t a bad place to be when you’re freshly twenty three. It was no Pelican, North Carolina, but JJ Maybank never expected he’d ever actually leave the damn island. Except, you know, for the time he was stuck on an uninhabited island with his friends for six weeks or the time he’d flown to South America in a cargo plane of weed, but neither of those things were so bad when he thought about them.

The studio apartment he rented in LA was expensive, but he had his share of El Dorado and Royal Merchant gold to help pay for that, and when you spent the majority of your high school days couch surfing because your one living parent was too drunk to pay the bills and he skipped town when you were seventeen, you learned quickly to not take up too much space. He liked the vibe of Los Angeles. The surf was decent, he worked as a bartender, and he’d even made a couple friends in his time there.

The surf was decent, the weather was nicer than North Carolina, and that day, a Saturday in May, JJ found himself sitting on a beach soaking up the warm sun while he sipped the beer he’d swiped from one of his friends that had joined him while he texted the Pogues back home.

Kie was telling him all about her most recent trip to Bali with her girlfriend, Avery. John B was giving him an update on the latest house he was flipping while also giving him updates on Sarah’s pregnancy and sending the most adorable photo of his two year old goddaughter, Scout, popsicle mouth and all as she grinned. He couldn’t help but smile at the photo, saving it to make it his lockscreen later.

He was replying to Pope about his plans to fly home for a few days in June for Father’s Day, planning a barbecue at the Routledge household to celebrate Bobby Heyward who had been both his and John B’s father figure after his own dad skipped town and Big John had died when he heard it. It was a mother, yelling at a girl no more than eight years old to come closer to shore because she was getting too far out.

He watched for several moments before he realized what he was seeing. The girl was swimming like she was attempting to get closer to shore but she was struggling and getting farther out. Fuck. He knew immediately what was happening, wasting no time standing up and ripping his shirt off before tossing his sunglasses and phone on the towel he’d been sitting on.

Getting to the girl wasn’t an issue, but he could tell she was exhausted and had inhaled an unknown amount of water in her panicked state. One arm wrapped around her tightly while he swam like hell to get them both out of there. The girl was unconscious by the time his feet were back in the sand and he went into action before looking at the panicked crowd that had gathered.

“Fuck, someone call 9-1-1!” He yelled before finding the moms eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Clara”

“Okay.” He tried to smile through his own panic. He continued to provide chest compressions and rescue breaths for what felt like a lifetime. His arms ached, he could hear the sirens approaching as he kept going, telling the girl to just hang in there. Finally, he could see paramedics rushing towards them, the mother of the girl telling them that her name was Clara Logan and she was eight years old. Before the woman could kneel down and take over there was a gasp from the girl, then coughing as she started to expel the water in her lungs.

He quickly helped stabilize her neck as they moved her to her side so she wouldn’t re-aspirate on the water before he let the medics take over. As he stood there, he couldn’t help but feel ten years old again. It was a feeling that he quickly pushed down as the medics worked quickly, stabilizing her and getting her on a gurney before one of the other firefighters stopped and looked at him.

“What’s your name, sir?” He asked.

JJ froze, looking at him before clearing his throat. “Uh, JJ. JJ Maybank, sir.”

“Well, JJ.” He started, sticking his hand out for JJ to shake. “I’m Captain Nash. Your quick thinking saved that little girl's life today.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey you’re the guy from the beach today, right?”

The voice brought JJ out his thoughts. The scene from that afternoon had been replaying in his head since he’d gotten home, his thoughts dragging him back to when he’d lost his brother. He’d decided that he needed to get out of his apartment so despite that it was his night off, he had come to the bar and was sitting in a corner booth with his beer.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered. “I’m JJ.”

“Mariella Diaz.” She smiled, sliding into the other side of the booth. “The tonto at the bar ordering drinks is my brother, Eddie.”

“You’re the paramedics that showed up, right?”

“We are.” She confirmed. “Although, I have to say it would have been a completely different outcome had you not been there. The mother said she was stuck in a rip current, those usually don’t end well. She said you just jumped in without a thought and pulled her out. Most people wouldn’t have thought to do that.”

JJ was silent, kind of shocked by this woman’s boldness. She’d just sat down and started talking to him like they were old friends and he didn’t know what to say. Before he could reply, her brother showed up and gave her a disapproving look.

“Mari, what have I told you about talking to strangers.” He told her, but sat down next to her anyway. “Here’s your straight whiskey, you crazy ass woman. I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“This is JJ.” She told him. “He’s the guy that jumped in after that little girl today, so not a stranger. I was just telling him that most people wouldn’t jump in like that.”

“Well.” JJ sighed as he took a drink. “I couldn’t just watch another kid die like that.”

Both siblings were quiet, looking at him with shocked expressions as they took in that information. It was clear that Mariella wanted to ask, but was afraid to so he just gave them both a weak smile.

“Thirteen years ago, I was ten years old and my brother, Tyler, took me to the beach. The surf was rough, but our dad had been drinking again and he wanted to make sure I was out of the house so we went to the beach. I was standing on the shore while he took our one surfboard out and he was knocked off. I didn’t know anything about rip currents but when the board came back and he didn’t, it scared me. I could just barely see him struggling. He was so far out. So I ran to the nearest adult and told them, but they couldn’t get to him in time. They finally got him back to shore, and did CPR until paramedics arrived, but it was too late.” He took another drink. “He was only fifteen. He just, he was the one that always took the brunt of what my dad did when he was drunk because he didn’t want me to get hurt. After he died, my dad got worse and eventually skipped town when I was sixteen.”

“Shit” she frowned. “I’m sorry, that had to be rough. Edmundo here drives me insane but a couple years ago he was shot and the thought of him dying terrified me. I couldn’t imagine if he actually died.”

“It was hard.” JJ told her. “But it’s been thirteen years, y’know? I still think of him all the time. If he would have gotten out, what he’d be doing now. It was part of the reason I even came to California. He always said he wanted to see the west coast.”

“That’s a good thing.” Eddie told him. “Keep his memory alive.”

“I uh, I came into some money when I was almost seventeen. It was kind of a local legend, this ship that went down with 400 million in gold.” JJ half smiled, thinking of the adventure he and his friends had gone on years ago. “The Royal Merchant. My friend, his dad was obsessed with it. Well, Big John went missing when we were sixteen and John B, he became obsessed that his dad was still alive.”

“Was he?”

“Yeah.” JJ laughed. “We almost died like, four times. John B was framed for murder by his girlfriend's dad and brother. I stole my dads boat to help them off the island when that happened. But the boat capsized in a tropical storm, they were presumed dead, then they weren’t dead and ended up in the Bahamas. Sarah’s brother shot her, she died for a couple minutes, they came back to North Carolina, John B was arrested. I got hit in the head with a machete.”

“Holy shit.”

“It gets wilder. We were stranded on an island for six weeks, and survived a plane crash. There was a train heist. Sarah’s ex boyfriend burned down John B’s house while we were all inside of it. Kie’s parents shipped her off to wilderness camp because “we were bad influences on her” and I busted her out, then rode in a cargo ship full of weed to South America.”

“Wait.” Eddie stopped the younger man. “I think my husband read an article or something about this. Four teenagers from North Carolina who found El Dorado.”

“Yeah.” JJ laughed. “We went through a lot of shit in like a four month time span. Also, technically only John B and Sarah found El Dorado. They were the only two who actually saw it. We were held hostage by this crazy man trying to get rich off of it and he was going to shoot Sarah, but her dad literally sacrificed himself to save her. Threw himself off a cliff taking one of this guy’s buddies down. Big John was shot and didn’t make it back. Anyway, they split the money six ways. We didn’t actually get any of it until we were eighteen, but I have a good little nest egg to sit on.”

“How much is “little”? I’m just curious.”

“About sixty seven million a piece.” JJ told them. “Actually, it’s probably more due to interest now. I kept most of it in a savings account.”

“He sounds like Buck.” Mari laughed. “And his trust fund.”

“Who’s Buck?” JJ questioned.

“My husband.” Eddie clarified. “His grandparents started a trust fund for him when he was little that he couldn’t access until he was twenty five, but didn’t tell his parents about it, only his older sister. So by the time they got back in contact, he was twenty six and this money had been sitting collecting interest for twenty years, so he had more money than he knew what to do with, so he just….left it sit. He used part of it to put a down payment on our house and start college funds for my son and our daughter. But otherwise, he just uses what he makes.”

“I don’t know, you just remind me of him. Especially when he was younger and super impulsive.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing.” JJ laughed. “It sounds messed up but I wasn’t trying to be a hero today, but when she came to, god it felt good being able to say I did that.”

“Well, your impulsiveness saved a kid's life today, JJ.” Mari told him. “And you should be proud of that.”

[bllsbailey]

Why Would Anybody Vote for Her?

As the election draws closer, I am seeing Harris/Walz signs on lawns as I drive to work. And the number seems to have grown a little in the last few weeks. I drive through an old, established neighborhood in St. Louis called Webster Groves during my commute. Turn-of-the-century Victorians with wrap-around porches and giant elm trees line Elm Street (of course) as you drive through it. It's a nice area. I kind of wish I lived there sometimes.

To live in Webster Groves, you probably need to be a doctor, lawyer, or a business owner. It's not cheap. Having had a good education is probably the prerequisite to the career that provides the income to afford living there. I doubt there are many blue collars except for the ones that cut the grass.

So, as I drive through this area, the question keeps appearing in front of me like the flight data on an F-16's HUD display. "Why in the Hell Would Anybody Vote for Kamala Harris?"

I don't mean that rhetorically, as in, "Are you out of your mind? Why would you vote for her?" I mean it in sort of a scholarly way, like, "Are you day drinking? Why would you vote for her?" I jest, but no, really...what sort would give their vote to Kamala Harris?

So I decided to give it a little more consideration, sort of a thought experiment into the mindset of voters that would cast a ballot for her on purpose. This is just me spitballing, but I think there are actually a number of reasons. These appear in no specific order because right now, I'm doing the stream-of-consciousness thing.

1. You hate Trump. You would have voted for an old sack of rotting oatmeal that sits on the beach licking ice cream cones all day instead of voting for Trump. That's it, that's all there is. Thank God Kamala is now in the race. Now you won't have to hear the incessant taunts of I Told You So the next time Biden succumbs to gravity and somersaults down a flight of stairs, falls off a bike, or poops himself in front of the Pope.

2. You're a good, loyal soldier. You'll vote Democrat no matter what (Fetterman). You'd campaign for a baked lasagna (Fetterman) if it had a (D) after its name (Fetterman). Now, to be fair, Fetterman has turned out to be a bit of a pebble in the DNC's shoe with a few center or right-of-center comments. But Democrat voters never expected that when he ran. They saw Shrek in a hoodie and thought, "Kewl..." 

3. The Truth is more important than Facts. This little gem, once uttered by Joe Biden, drives the conscience that becomes your guide. It's Jiminy Cricket 2.0. If you're a Progressive, you know there is no Truth. There is only Your Truth. And nobody is permitted to question it because your life experience is your own, and so cannot be challenged. Therefore, when Kamala says she comes from middle-class roots and worked at Mcdonald's, that is her Truth in spite of the fact that her parents were Ph.Ds (who could actually have a summer home in Webster Groves) and no work records can be found of Harris' tenure at the golden arches. Speaking truth to power means never having to prove you're genuine.

4. Policy Doesn't Matter. To vote for Kamala means that platitudes are diamonds and promises are gold. Kamala says she will do "great things" for the country, and you know that as long as her convictions mirror yours, eventually, she will circle back and explain just what those "great things" are. After she is elected. 

Perhaps getting rid of your gas stove, your Weber grill, your combustion engine, your ceiling fan, your dishwasher, or the air, water, and trees on your private land (see SUSTAINS ACT) are among those little Easter Eggs that are buried within Kamala's Plan to do Great Things starting January 21st. But you know that policy is a secondary or tertiary consideration compared to personality because you have to believe her. You must believe her. She has nothing else to offer. Kamala has no policies she can direct you to. She hasn't done anything in four years, and whatever unpopular side effects of the administration might exist (inflation, immigration, more inflation), well, those can be blamed on Joe Biden. He won't mind. He won't remember.

Liberal Senators Confident Flip-Flopping Kamala Harris Would Quickly Veer Left If Elected

Meanwhile, Harris Steals Another Key Trump Economic Policy, Says Former Trump Senior Advisor

Can Media Dupe Enough of Us to Grease Her Way In?

5. We Need a Strong Black Woman as President. But until one turns up, you have Kamala Harris. She's no Condi Rice (whom I would vote for in an instant), but she's available and running now. Don't know how strong she is, but if she could ascend to the Vice-Presidency of the United States because of skin color and gender, she can accomplish anything and must have something going for her. But as Nancy Pelosi once said, you have to vote for the bill to see what's in the bill. So you'll go into the polling place, make the Sign of the Cross, pull the lever, and hope for the best.

6. We Need More New Americans. You will vote for Kamala because Kamala knows, as you do, that the continued growth of the country demands ever-increasing fonts of new blood. What was once an Illegal Alien has evolved into an Undocumented Immigrant, a Migrant, and now a New American. Because as we know, this country owes every good thing (and none of the bad ones) to people who came here by stepping over the Rio Grande (as well as our laws) and into our neighborhoods. And if a few million are good, 20 million are better. 

Unless you live in Martha's Vineyard. Or Bel Air. Or in Kamala's front yard. Those New Americans get moved onto a defunct military base in Massachusetts or just deposited somewhere in the Midwest. But of course, you can understand that. You can forgive that because Kamala knows, as you do, that this is what's best for the New Americans so they can integrate with the Old Americans who live in Tumblebutt, Oklahoma. They will overwhelm the public services, the school systems, and the police and fire departments, but this is a good thing because it creates intense challenges that both sets of Americans can struggle through together. It will develop the grit and guts that epitomize the unconquerable American Spirit. It melds them through the forge and within the crucible to produce new Democratic voters, ensuring a one-party state for your children and grandchildren. And, after all, isn't that the way to the future...Comrade?

7. Afghanistan. Afghanistan? Pshaw! That's so 2021. Old news. The exit was whatever it was because it simply had to be done. It had to be done all at once, and it had to be done anyway it could. Kamala knows this, and so do you. When she says she was the last one out of the room, you understand it wasn't because she was responsible. It just means she was told to shut off the lights on her way out. Dead Marines at Abbey Gate and Afghans plopping onto the runway from 130 feet in the air? Biden. Biden did that.

8. Sharp as a Tack. Smartest guy in the room. Best version of Joe Biden ever. For years, Kamala assured America that the President of the United States was in top form. Fully Mission Capable. Had his crap wired tight. But Kamala really knew better, and so did you. As a politician who may have to engage in some unsavory things to survive, you understood that she had to say those things in order to maintain her proximity to power should an anvil land on Biden's head or if he pedaled his bike into a cliff with a tunnel painted on it. Kamala lied to us, but at the same time, she did it for us. You can respect that. You can vote for that in spite of the fact that such a grave issue is more than just a fly in the paint job. Of course, the prudent and honorable thing would be to put the country first and initiate the proceedings for the 25th Amendment, but, uh....does she really even know what that is? Plausible deniability?...the events of the past sometimes cloud our vision of the pluperfect future and propel us into the field of what once was...or something. Ugh. Head starting to hurt, but yeah, you know you could still vote for that if only for the reasons mentioned above. 

Anyway, as the drive through Webster Groves came to an end and carried me into nearby Brentwood, I sort of came back to the education thing. You have a Harris sign in your yard, but there's no educated reason to vote for her. She has no track record of positive accomplishments; she only has a track record of being there in the background like Zelig or doing fluff stuff like the School Bus Shuffle or Looking at the Moon with Her Own Eyes. Say what you want about Trump, but at least he could point to actual accomplishments and positive numbers during his tenure, so it makes me wonder why other educated people don't see that. Or maybe they do. And maybe they don't care. Maybe they just want to virtue signal...I do not know. However, my hope is that there will be enough people out there who can sort through the chaff and vote from an understanding of the things that are greater than skin color or hairstyle. It's kind of important. Our future is going to be formed by what happens in several weeks, and we're all going to have to live in that world.

Dan Zoernig is a commercial photographer, retoucher, and illustrator in St. Louis, Missouri. Earning a degree in History/Political Science from Rockhurst University, he has been commenting on social and policy matters since the early 2000s.

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

May 14, 2024

THE POPE OF SALT LAKE & HIS NEW LAND OF OZ

It's gotta be nice to be a taxpayer in Salt Lake City right now 'cause they're about to embark on building someone else's dream and it's only going to cost 'em $900 million. Ryan Smith, the owner of the Jazz and a new NHL hockey franchise, is going to love it — and so will you, like it or not. Alright, so what does this Oz look like. Well, it's going to be big and cool and we'll find out later about the details. But first the City Council must go off down The Yellow Brick Road to see the Wizard and create a 100-acre Oz District where the Delta Center, Salt Palace Convention Center, Utah Museum of Contemporary Art and Abravanel Hall now sit. Bonus: no height limit zoning that includes magic beans and giant bean stalks. What grows there will be big and cool but you'll just have to trust 'em, like when they were solving homelessness with three new homeless “resource centers.” Yes, that was a rush-rush job, too. But this time it might work out because Ryan Smith is a billionaire and he's been anointed the Pope of the City of Salt. What the Pope wants, the Pope gets. Sure, many studies show that publicly funded stadium projects provide little to no economic benefit for taxpayers, but this one will be different — remember, the new zoning includes giant bean stalks.

MAKE AMERICA GAG AGAIN — STORMY TESTIFIES

Warning: Parents, do not let your children read this. It could warp their minds permanently.

Stormy Daniels, the porn star at the center of Donald Trump's “hush money” trial, took the witness stand in a New York City courtroom and what we learned was... well, not pretty. Here are the takeaways:

10 – Donald Trump likes paisley Hugh Hefner silk jammies.

9 – Trump and his wife, Melania, sleep in different sound-proofed bedrooms.

8 – He prefers “paper-scissors-hammer” as part of a foreplay game of grab-ass.

7 – The “Orange Turd,” as Stormy called him, abhors condoms.

6 – But he delights in getting spanked, she testified.

5 – Trump wears Barocco Greca boxer briefs with a trap door.

4 – The former president insists on the “missionary position.”

3 – After the assignation, Trump called her “Honey Bunch” and “Snooky Wookems.”

2 – Stormy testified she would have needed a stop watch to time the event.

1 – As she stumbled out of his hotel room, Trump said, “I'll be in touch — no pun intended. Haha.”

WHY ARE PEOPLE SO MEAN TO CLARENCE THOMAS

Washington, D.C. is such a nasty place, lamented Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. “There’s certainly been a lot of negativity in our lives, my wife and I, over the last few years, but we choose not to focus on it.” Hey Wilson, do you think all this “negativity” has anything to do with the $260,000 motorhome and lavish vacations Thomas got from a billionaire. Or maybe it was the role his lovely wife, Ginni, played in the plan to overturn the 2020 election? Nah, couldn't be. People have always been mean to Clarence, according to his biography. Bummer, man. So why should he recuse himself in cases where he has an apparent conflict, like Trump's claim that as president he had absolute immunity — how else could you launch a failed coup and then run for president again. It's curious that the court, overseen by Chief Justice John Roberts, is in the public-opinion dumper. It couldn't be its ruling that overturned Roe v. Wade and a woman's right to an abortion. It couldn't be the finding that money is speech and corporations are people. And it couldn't possibly be the conservative justices “originalism” philosophy that means it's 1788 all over again — except for the AR-15s, of course.

Post script — That'll just about do it for another beautiful week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of voter fraud so you don't have to. Well Wilson, you know all those “illegal aliens,” aka undocumented workers, vote all the time. They put down their mops and brooms, find someone who can speak English and then take Uber to vote even though they can't read English. That's why Republicans in Congress are working on legislation to make that illegal even though it already is against the law. Oops, hold the phone: In 2017 then-president Donald Trump put together the Voter Integrity Commission to sniff out fraudulent voting across the country. They searched and searched and searched — but just like a bad Easter egg hunt, they didn't find a damn thing. Then quietly, the commission went the way of Donald's yacht, the “Miss Stormy.” Just ask Donald if there's fraudulent voting. That's why, he says, he lost the last election and if he loses the next one it will be déjà vu all over again. It's a new twist on the old “win/win” situation: if you win, you win and if you lose, you still win. You'd never guess, Wilson, but that's the motto of entire Trump Organization.

Well shucks Wilson, poor old Clarence Thomas is bummed out. People are mean to him just because he's a know-it-all prima dona, right-wing originalist. It's just not fair, so how about you and guys in the band roll out some road music so he and Ginni can have a soundtrack as they get out of Dodge:

Running my rig around ninety-five, Rockin' and rollin' in overdrive My heart's beating like a jackhammer, It's the midnight ride for the gear jammer Nine long days through twenty-three states, I gotta see my baby soon you know I just can't wait The police catch me I'll end up in the slammer, 'Cause the law don't want no gear jammer Running my rig in a mighty high gear, I don't care where I go just long as it ain't here Something gets in my way you know I'm gonna ram it, Nobody fools around with this gear jammer Running my rig about ninety-five, I'm a-rockin' and a-rollin' in overdrive My heart's beating like a jackhammer, Don't you get in the way of this gear jammer

(Gear Jammer — George Thurgood and The Destroyers)

[slumgirlqueen]

Chapter One: Fathers' daughters

Prologue

Dear Queen Elizabeth,

I’m writing to you, your majesty, for you to visit the people of Albania. I am a fourteen year old girl living in Skopje in sweet poverty but The LORD provides. He provides for me and my family. He provides a good work for my father who is a janitor at a Catholic Church fourteen minutes bike ride from our home. He provides for my mother a home and family that are her shelter in the stormy rain. And he provides for me with nice friends and teachers at my school at Loreto Abbey. I am a simple girl and the lack of wants does not bother me much. With my father’s allowance, I had saved up enough money for a brand new bicycle that is red from the local bicycle store in my hometown. Where I live is a small village in the northern suburb of Skopje. In the morning I would ride my red bicycle to school and along the way I would see schoolmates riding in a hurry. Sometimes it is in the rain and we would be in an even more hurry. But the divine wind always manages to dry us off in the good Sun by the time we reach school, even though a little damp. 

I am writing this because you are the great Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and I am just a sweet poor girl living in the suburb of Skopje. My parents’ modest mean means that I do not have the money to visit your country. You have visited Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, and even America and all over Europe but you have never came to Albania. You are adored by your subjects all over the British Empire and even me, a little fourteen year old girl adores you. And my father and mother are great admirers of you. I have photograph cards of you that I purchased with the money my mother sometimes gives me. Now they are numbered twenty five. In many pictures you are standing beside kings and prime ministers. One of my favourite is one with you beside the Pope. It is my favourite because my family is Catholic and he is our Holy Father. I even have you in front of the Sydney Opera House at the Bay of Sydney, Australia.

My favourite activity is playing jump rope with my friends. My bestest friend is a girl in my class and her name is Maria. We have been friends since we were nine. She would also like you to visit Albania. And her father is an honourable man and her mother is gentle, much like the many people of Albania. And the children here are sweet and folly, much like children in your country. There is a bridge here in Albania called the British-Albanian Friendship Bridge. It was built there after the Second World War after a bombing that left my town ravaged. And people were stranded during the war. And even after the war, the people from my hometown had to swim across to reach the market. And when your father had heard about the story in the British newspaper, he asked the army to build one there. And this was when my father was young and before he even had me. My father told me this when I was still in junior school. And on the day of your father’s passing, my father was listening to the radio in the church’s kitchen and he ran home crying after he prayed for your father’s soul. I am my father’s daughter and even though you are a grownup and a queen, you are also your father’s daughter. So I am writing to you, pleading with your majesty to come and visit the beautiful people of Albania. And I and my father and mother would be there at every line in all of Albania to greet you with wild roses and welcoming hearts.

Sweet sincerely your truest,

Little Sera

-Letters in my shoebox

[acourseinmiraclesworld]

A fabulous Lifespan Populated with Increases -- Doubts You think

A fabulous lifespan about increases is mostly a lifespan completed. To think with them is normally web site regarding whatever hope from the secret taking on your life or possibly my own.

Magic is mostly a unnatural happening which usually simply a divine cause may well provide for those, exclusively or possibly via a people, cases, and additionally parties. Everyone just can't provide many of our increases, still you can easlily most certainly speak to individuals "miracles" any time an issue definitely bizarre shows up in this particular activities.

Saintly men and women are called by do the job increases at the same time individuals take up residence most of the activities, in addition to because they a course in miracles experience perished. Couple of most suitable and additionally brand-new types really are Sibling The new mom Teresa about Calcutta and additionally Pope Tom John II. Plenty of people understand all of these illustrious customers.

Implement plenty of people trust in increases? Understandably various implement, still my estimation is normally that men so, who put into practice faith, or possibly are easily faith based, will uncover all the benefits about trusting for increases. Document look at at the time into my lifespan this approach thinking, "If you do not need trust in Fin, afterward, come to a decision believe magic on your life? inch

I guess that in case you may be any Atheist or possibly any Agnostic, it very difficult to make sure you influence you will which usually increases implement accidentally most people. I had couple of pretty decent contacts: a only just shouldn't trust in Fin, and therefore the other sorts of fears which usually Fin still happens to be, still leaves behind which usually opportunity clear (whatever which usually means).

Come to a decision be aware of whether a secret comes with appeared on your life? Consequently they are you will these days looking magic in a targeted justification?

I'm going to produce ideal information to make sure you many things, and additionally maybe you'll uncover any method right via a varied mind-set. I had qualified increases into my lifespan, and additionally during that about many people, and additionally Document arrived at the equivalent result every single time: My personal opinion these were increases!

However these are stuff you must be aware of early approximately increases:

-- Magic can take place in under a fabulous wink, additionally your lifespan could very well be able to escape to work out a later date. Body fat time period towards secret, now when compared to may well be a time period to Market.

-- Come to be particularly targeted to what just exactly it's always you may need on your life to take place or possibly for a different inividual: understandably aging parents or even close family friend. An example, lots of people are getting in a secret about recovering, reviving, answer, restorative healing right from any desire, or possibly just for an alternative functionality?

-- A fabulous request magic to rotate person particularly in the area right from damaging to make sure you wonderful, even when the face is normally cheerful and additionally content and articles simply being damaging, in addition to unpredictable regarding you will yet others, is mostly a really difficult avenue to take the; and also was produced from feel by means of nearly four nephews so, who found part of harmful drugs, and additionally most of the future was first hopeless.

[cmcsmen]

Honor Your Father And Your Mother

A Father and Son out for a walk, sharing bullet points about life.   Photo: 'Father and Son Wisdom Walk' - Copyright 2012 Frank J Casella

The Fourth Commandment:  Honor Your Father And Your Mother.  That your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you. He was obedient to them. The Lord Jesus himself recalled the force of this "commandment of God."  The Apostle teaches: "Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 'Honor your father and mother,' (This is the first commandment with a promise.) 'that it may be well with you and that you may live long on the earth." 

IN BRIEF:

2247 "Honor your father and your mother" (Deut 5:16; Mk 7:10).

2248 According to the fourth commandment, God has willed that, after him, we should honor our parents and those whom he has vested with authority for our good.

2249 The conjugal community is established upon the covenant and consent of the spouses. Marriage and family are ordered to the good of the spouses, to the procreation and the education of children.

2250 "The well-being of the individual person and of both human and Christian society is closely bound up with the healthy state of conjugal and family life" (GS 47 § 1).

2251 Children owe their parents respect, gratitude, just obedience, and assistance. Filial respect fosters harmony in all of family life.

2252 Parents have the first responsibility for the education of their children in the faith, prayer, and all the virtues. They have the duty to provide as far as possible for the physical and spiritual needs of their children.

2253 Parents should respect and encourage their children's vocations. They should remember and teach that the first calling of the Christian is to follow Jesus.

2254 Public authority is obliged to respect the fundamental rights of the human person and the conditions for the exercise of his freedom.

2255 It is the duty of citizens to work with civil authority for building up society in a spirit of truth, justice, solidarity, and freedom.

2256 Citizens are obliged in conscience not to follow the directives of civil authorities when they are contrary to the demands of the moral order. "We must obey God rather than men" (Acts 5:29).

2257 Every society's judgments and conduct reflect a vision of man and his destiny. Without the light the Gospel sheds on God and man, societies easily become totalitarian.

--

"In a recent address, December 21, to the Cardinals and staffs of the Roman Curia at the Vatican, Pope Francis recalled that we are no longer living in a Christian world. 

“Christendom no longer exists. Today, we are no longer the only ones who create culture, nor are we in the forefront or those most listened to … we are no longer living in a Christian world, because faith… is no longer an evident presupposition of social life; indeed, faith is often rejected, derided, marginalized and ridiculed… the faith used to be passed on within families and the example of parents; society too was inspired by Christian principles. Today, this transmission has been interrupted and our social context, if not anti-Christian, appears to be at least impermeable to the Christian faith.  Hence the question … how to proclaim the Gospel where it is no longer known or recognized?  It is pointless getting agitated. There is no need to get organized, or to make a noise. There’s no need for gimmicks or stratagems. In the mission of proclaiming the Gospel, you move because the Holy Spirit pushes you, and carries you.  And when you arrive you realize that He has come before you and is waiting for you.”

... With these thoughts of the Holy Father in mind, is it too late to save our families and ourselves for God?  How about the evangelization of our households, our friendships.  How about fervent practice of our faith for these times and every time.  How about we men being intentional pastors of our households leading the way?"

~ Bishop Joseph Perry - The Relevance of Church

Click here for the Fifth Commandment

[anxiousstark]

The four times the Pogues tried to pair you up with JJ + the time they realized you were already dating | JJ MAYBANK

Request:  Hi! I love the whole 5+1 trope so I wanted to request one with “Five times the Pogues tried to pair the y/n with JJ and the one time they realized the pair was already dating.”❤️❤️

I LOVED this idea. I changed it to 4+1. 

Warnings: FLUFF. Swearing (always), mentions of sex. The end might be not as good as the rest, wrote it when I was feeling a little down but I promised to upload today. Enjoy it.

Word Count: 2030

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

If you guys see my works in other websites, let me know, please. I only have Tumblr.

BIG MASTERLIST 

"Please," You begged, hands squeezing the muscular arm of the boy that was sitting next to you. "Just a little sip, JJ." You pouted. The envy spread through your body as you glimpsed at his pink milkshake, deliciously going up the straw until it reached his lips. You swallowed, mouth-watering. "Please, I'm going to die, JJ."

The blond boy rolled his eyes, reminding you that you didn't want to order anything. He continued happily sipping his milkshake, eyes fluttering close. Those milkshakes should be a sin. They tasted so good, and their coldness could fight against the heat of the summer of the Outer Banks. "Stop looking at me." He groaned. "I'm trying to have a moment with my baby." Of course, he was talking about his so-loved milkshake. His words made the other pogues chuckle while they continued to eat their food.

"JJ," You whimpered. His head snapped towards you, giving you attention for the first time since the waitress delivered the milkshake. "Just a tiny sip."

Nobody could ignore your puppy eyes. Therefore, JJ groaned, moving his glass so you could get a sip. You decided to take your time, admiring the metal straw, which was a project that Kiara decided to start in the Outer Banks. JJ nudged you, impatient to put his lips back on the straw. Finally, you savoured the milkshake, understanding JJ's heart eyes towards it. However, you couldn't stop taking sips, which made him groan while trying to take the straw from between your lips, putting his mouth closer to the metal straw AND your mouth.

The others watched the both of you with silly smiles on their faces. Sarah coughed. "So Y/N," You stopped playfully fighting with the boy sitting next to you to peer at your friend. "Have you thought about what I told you?" A couple of days ago, she started talking about the most handsome boys in OBX, and you weren't interested. Most of them were proud Kooks who would look at you as an inferior individual for not having as much money as them. "I mean," She fakely laughed. "If by the age of 25 you both are single you should date." She was straightforward, making JJ glance at her. She was hoping that both of you would end up being a couple because she had never seen two people having such a strong connection.

What Sarah Cameron and the others didn't know it's that under the table, JJ's right hand rested firmly on your thigh. Fingers caressing the inside, making you shiver.

The day had been awful. You liked your job because it provided you with much necessary money. But you didn't like how some costumers treated you.

Working at The Wreck was amazing, Kiara was there to help you with anything, and you loved her dad. However, when Kooks decided to come inside and order something, there would be nasty comments thrown at you.

Teenager boys labelled your body and beauty as if you were an object, which made you uncomfortable, and as much as you tried to keep calm, you couldn't promise not killing someone. Teenager girls judged your clothes, friends and of course, money. It was awful.

However, today was even more dreadful. Rafe Cameron and his friends had decided to step on The Wreck, which was unusual and meant they were seeking for trouble. As soon as your work clothes ended up being stained by someone's food, you knew the day would be worst as hours went by.

The Cameron boy concluded that it would be a great show if he stretched his leg, making you trip, falling face down on the tray full of food that you were carrying to table number 5. You wanted to cry.

In the other part of the Outer Banks, John B removed dirty clothes from his floor. "I'm so glad you are finally cleaning your room." Sarah leaned on the door, admiring her boyfriend. "It's a fucking mess in here."

"I'm not cleaning," He groaned. "I can't find the keys to the van." He found some dirty underwear, throwing it to the corner of the room.

"JJ took them," She jumped over the filthy clothes laying on the floor. "Don't you remember? Today it's Wednesday. Y/N works until late."

"Oh, true." Every Wednesday and Friday you stayed at work until late. Since you started, the blond boy had decided that he would drive you back home every night, not wanting you to walk on your own. Everyone was surprised by JJ's commitment to driving you every night you worked late. "We need to get them together. They are perfect. They care for each other so much."

"They truly look amazing together. Couple goals." She grinned when John B replied that they were also couple goals.

What John B and the other didn't know it's that as soon as you were inside the car, JJ hugged you tightly, your head resting on his chest while his lips hovered over your forehead. He offered words of comfort, fists clenched thinking of what Rafe had done.

Pope Heyward was sitting on his surfboard, enjoying the smooth flow of the waves, rocking him gently. He examined two of his friends while they were playfully fighting with the water.

You had decided to push JJ out of his board. As soon as he came from under the water, he told John B to take care of his surfboard as he had to drown you for doing that to him. You shrieked, trying to hide behind the girls, but the water slowed you down, and the blond boy was more agile. Everyone paid close attention, goofy smiles decorating their faces as they saw both of you trying to immerse each other.

"Oh my gosh," You turned around, glancing up at JJ. He had the biggest smirk on his face. Your hands were covering your chest, trying to process what he had just done. "Did you just take my top off?" He continued smirking, his right hand coming out of the water, showing the top part of your bikini. "JJ, I'm going to kill you!" You tried to grab the piece of clothing from his hand, your other hand covering your chest. However, he was taller than you, making it impossible.

Pope started making a gesture, telling the others to get out of the water so JJ and you could be on your own. John B was the one who tried to convince you to kick JJ out of his board, knowing that he would try to get revenge, which meant getting real close to you. It was their plan all along. And the next step to their plan was to leave you two alone inside the sea, hoping you guys would end up talking about your relationship.

What Pope Heyward and the others didn't know it's that that wasn't the first time JJ's fingers caressed your back until they arrived at their destination. Not the first time his hands explored every curve of your body. Furthermore, not the first time his fingers easily unclasped your bikini or bra.

Kiara thought that it was the perfect night for something to happen between both of you. You all were friends and cared about each other, but JJ was quite protective when it came to you.

The weight of the heavy rain provoked a powerful noise inside the Chateau, and the thunders seemed to get louder and louder. It was movie night, something you guys did every Saturday. Normally, you would cuddle with the girls while watching the chosen film, but not tonight.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were surprised to see that Kiara was cuddling Pope tightly. Next to them, Sarah rested on John B's chest. Your gaze examined both couples, confused. You always cuddled with the girls, especially in nights like these. You were terrified of loud noises, which affected your anxiety negatively.

The strident sound of thunder made you jump, not thinking twice before running towards JJ, who had an entire couch for himself. "What?" He asked when he saw you looking down at him with big eyes. Then, he noticed the position his friends were in and the fact that there was a huge thunderstorm outside. However, JJ didn't move, placing one of his arms under his head, inviting you to lay down on top of him. That wasn't something new neither, JJ and you cuddled all the time, which was another reason for why the pogues wanted to set you up.

To be honest, none of them paid attention to the film playing in the background. You were soundly asleep on JJ's chest, his right arm under his head while his left arm was secured around your waist. Fingers discretely caressing the patch of skin that was revealed.

What Kiara Carrera and the others didn't know it's that you were each other's safe place. There were night visits at each other houses, silently and lovingly holding each other at night, sometimes not so quietly.

You guys had planned to go to a formal party. At first, the boys didn't want to go, not being comfortable spending time around some stuck up Kooks. But Sarah and Kie had begged the boys, letting them know that their parents were making them go, and they didn't want to go on their own.

The surprise came when everyone was ready to go to the party, fancy dresses and suits. However, there was no sight of JJ. They found him on a hammock he had decided to set, being supported by two big trees. "JJ, dude," John B was the first one to talk, getting closer to his friend. Sarah couldn't hear the conversation as she had to move far from them, her phone ringing. "How aren't you ready for the party yet?"

"I'm not going." His eyes were closed, blond hair being moved by the gentle breeze of the night. "I don't like those Kooks." He gazed at Kie, reassuring her that he wasn't talking about her or Sarah. "I'm going to stay here. Have fun."

"But what about Y/N?" Pope asked, peering at the clock on his wrist. "Are you going to leave her at the party on her own?"

"No," Sarah interrupted, getting back to her friends. "It was Y/N," She showed her phone, being clutched with her fingers as her dress didn't have pockets, ugh. "She spent all morning puking. She isn't coming."

"Then no problem." JJ sighed happily, excited to enjoy a serene night under the moonlight while the breeze caressed his hair and body, stimulating goosebumps on his skin.

"Okay then," Kiara grabbed Pope's hand, interlocking her fingers with his. "There are burgers in the fridge. Let's go, we are going to be late."

Around one in the morning, they arrived at The Chateau, tiring faces and numb feet. The girls and Pope decided to spend the night there, not wanting to walk to their houses or moving at all.

JJ's bedroom was empty, which worried them as it was quite cold outside. "He probably fell asleep on the hammock. We should tell him to come inside." John B offered to go. Moreover, a couple of seconds have gone by when he came back, a big smile on his face. "They are keeping each other warm."

Everyone was confused, running outside to see what was going on, even though John B begged them to be quiet and give them privacy. They looked completely stupid hiding behind some trees, seeing you on top of JJ. Your hands were grabbing his face, kissing him passionately. Maybank's hands were on your waist, going dangerously down, wanting to feel you closer to him.

"You guys going to watch until then end?" They were shocked and embarrassed after being caught by JJ. "We can put a show for you." You giggled, letting your head fall on top of his chest. "Not the first time we do this," He winked. "We have experience."

"What the heck?!" Kiara stepped forward, grabbing her dress so she wouldn't stop on it. "How long has this been going for?"

"Around a year and a half."

"What?!"

[fandomfix13]

Should've Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Should’ve Been You - JJ Maybank X Reader

Y/N finds herself in a rough situation with Rafe and JJ steps in and makes Y/N realize it should’ve been JJ all along

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Slight violence in relationships, Lots of swearing, underage drinking (pls be safe!), Some pretty cute fluff

FIRST THING I'M POSTING SO GO EASY ON ME! I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS AS WE SPEAK!

XOXO

_____________________________________________________________

You sat in the kitchen with Sarah and John B while you waited for Rafe to finish getting ready. It had been 45 minutes since you had first sat down with them, and Rafe still seemed to be taking his sweet ass time.

“Jesus, I thought I took forever to get ready.” Sarah huffed as she sat back and entangled herself in John B’s arms. You loved how comfortable and cute they were with each other. It had been a long time since you felt that way with Rafe. It’s not that you were necessarily uncomfortable with Rafe, but things didn’t feel the same as they used too. “Guys thanks for waiting with me, but you guys should really get going, I don’t want us to make you late.” you said as you saw the time. “Are you sure? We can wait, I'm sure he’ll be done soon.” Sarah said.

You shot John B a look that said ‘go’ without having to say it. “Yeah, Sarah she's right we really should get going.” he says as he takes her hand to stand up. You mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to John B and he nodded in return as you walked toward the couch. As the two of them walked out the door, John B slipped back in telling Sarah he ‘forgot something’.

“Hey are you gonna be okay?” He said walking over to you on the couch. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” you said in a tone that was too rushed and sounded nervous. “Because I’ve known you since you were six years old and that look that you gave me was your ‘get the hell out’ look” he laughed. “I don’t have a ‘get the hell out’ look!” you mocked him. “Oh you absolutely do and you gave it to me. Is everything okay? With you and Rafe?” He knew you too well, there was no hiding anything from him. “Yeah. He’s just….being Rafe.” you shrugged not feeling the need to go into detail. “Y/n?” he said sitting down next to you. “John B?” you returned not giving him the satisfaction of knowing what's on your mind. “You’re not gonna budge are you?” he said, looking right at you. “Not even a little.You really need to get going. You wouldn’t want to miss you and Sarah’s big entrance would you?” You said walking toward the door with John B following close behind you, you turned around to see John B giving you his ‘tell me what’s going on’ look. You opened the door once again telling him to leave. This time he had accepted his fate and walked out the door. “If you need anything, we’re all gonna be there tonight. Okay?” he quickly added. “Okaaayy.” you sighed, “now go!”

You closed the door and started walking back to the couch when you heard the sound of Rafe’s bedroom door open. As he came down the stairs you noticed something wasn’t right which in the moment you chose to ignore. That was until he came up from behind you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. You didn’t mind that kind of attention but this wasn’t like him. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and as you turned to confront him about it you saw his eyes. They were glossed over and dilated. His hands were shaking on your waist and there was residue of white powder under his nose. “Next time? You might want to look in fucking mirror after you snort coke off your bathroom counter.” You said with the calmest tone you could possibly have at the moment.

He rolled his eyes at you and turned around walking towards the door to leave. “Rafe we talked about this!” you yelled after him “No! YOU talked about this. I just sat there while you ran your mouth as usual!” He stopped in his tracks to turn around and yell right back. “You know how important tonight is! Could you not even have the decency to show up sober and get fucked up later?!” You hated when he got like this. So messed up that he was an asshole to everyone and anyone is his presence including you. “Tonight is important for my DAD! It’s not important to me! He probably doesn’t even want me there! Sarah’s there, that's all he cares about. So sue me for wanting to show up already gone.” part of you felt bad for him in a way. It hurt to see him struggle, but it also hurt to fight him on it. “Rafe we need to go. We are going to miss our entrance which is just going to piss your dad off more.” you tried to be calm. “Oh right, our entrance! Yeah I’m sure that everyone is going to be so thrilled to see me walk in with a fucking pogue!” he said in such a demeaning tone that you hadn’t heard before. You were taken aback by the words that just came out of his mouth. You always had a thought in the back of your mind that Raph didn’t like that you hung around with the pogues, but you never expected him to really say it. “Wow. Okay. Um. I’m not doing this with you right now. We have a party to get to.” You say making your way to walk past him and out the door. He tried to stop you by reaching out for your arm but you quickly pulled away. “Y/n wait.” “Don’t fucking touch me right now. We need to leave.”

-

As you arrived at the event you plastered on the biggest smile you could as you held Rafe’s hand and walked in greeting all the guests that approached the two of you. Old teachers, business owners and their plastic wives, old friends. All people that you truly did not care too see. You looked around the crowded room for any one of your friends to appear to provide you with a sense of normalcy. You spotted Kie standing with her parents also shaking hands with people she clearly had no interest in seeing. JJ was waiting for the guests. Pope was helping his dad with the food. John B and Sarah were outside secluding themselves from the socialite society that was this room, and you were standing hand in hand with Rafe who just 15 minutes ago was throwing insults at you.

You walked outside to John B and Sarah who were talking about how ridiculous some of the guests look in their outfits. “Hey if you two get to hide out here, so do I” You say approaching them from behind. “Trouble in paradise?” John B said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Just needed some air. The overwhelming smell of chanel number five and expensive champagne was starting to give me a headache.” You said only slightly joking. You all shared a laugh and you made your over to stand with your friends. “Drinks?” Sarah asked. You and John B both nodded without hesitation. “I’ll be right back” she said as she walked off the porch. “So.” John B said slowly turning his head towards you. “So.” you replied. “What are you really doing out here?” he said knowing that the excuse you gave was only half true. “Rafe just said some shit to me about being a pogue before we left.” you admitted. “I’m sorry, are you surprised?” he said with an attitude. “John B please don't be an asshole right now.” “Alright, okay I’m sorry. He didn’t... hurt you did he?” he said with concern in his voice. “No. He wouldn’t. He can be a dick I’ll admit, but he wouldn’t hurt me.” As you said this Sarah approached the two of you once again holding three beers. You sit there just the three of you, for a good 15 minutes before you thought you should probably go find Rafe. Not that he wanted to be seen with a pogue, but you should at least pretend like you weren’t beyond pissed at him.

As you walked through the crowded room saying your ‘hello’s’ here and there you realized Rafe was nowhere to be found. Your first thought was maybe he left. But then you realized that he wouldn’t leave a party that had so much alcohol and access to expensive drugs. You walked past JJ who was carrying a tray of champagne. “Hey J, have you seen Rafe?” you said following in his trail of champagne drop offs. “I try to never see him at all, so no I have not.” he said in his usual smart ass tone. “Ok. What about Topper?” he laughed “Considering I put a gun to his head I absolutely make it a point to not see him either.” you opened your mouth to speak again and he cut you off “Don’t ask about Kelce either. I haven’t seen them around anywhere. My guess is that they are in the bathroom making bets on who goes home with the hottest girl tonight.” You rolled your eyes at him and walked to the hallway where the bathrooms were. It was empty. While there was nobody in sight, you could hear the boys in the locker room.

Just as you decided to walk away, Topper stumbled out of the locker room. To say you were surprised to see him obviously fucked up would be a lie. You tried to quickly walk the other way so he wouldn’t see you, but you weren’t fast enough. “Were you stalking us Y/n?” Slurred Topper. God they sucked when they got like this. “Stalking you? Please. I have better things to do than stalk you. I was just looking for Rafe.” you said trying to ignore Topper’s attitude. “Rafe! Your pogue princess is out here lurking in the hallway waiting for you!” he yelled back into the locker room. You rolled your eyes at Topper’s label he put on you and waited for Rafe to come out of the locker room. He appeared almost instantly looking even worse than he did before. He was sweating, from the amount of alcohol in his system, and his eyes were beyond bloodshot.

“Jesus Rafe you look like shit. I left you for 15 fucking minutes! You look like you just went on a 3 day bender.” you spat out at him as he walked towards you. “And what are you gonna do about it?” He said cornering you. “I’m going home.” you said as you brushed past him. He grabbed your hand, harder than he tried to back at the house. “Oh come on Y/n, I’m just having a little fun. Don’t you wanna have fun?” he pulled you close to him whispering in your ear as he talked. “Fun? No. This isn’t fun. YOU aren’t fun when you’re like this.” you said trying to escape the tight grip he had on you. “Let go Rafe.” you said calmly. He started backing you up into the corner again, this time with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. “You don’t want to have fun with me?” He said as he started to kiss your neck. “Rafe. Stop. We aren’t doing this here.” your voice was shaky. The way Rafe was acting was scary. All you could think about was all the warnings your friends tried to give you that you just ignored. Rafe was still nipping at your neck while running his hands through your hair. “Rafe get off. Im serious.” You said a little louder this time hoping that someone would hear. You could tell where this was going and you weren’t about to let that happen. “Rafe!” you yelled this time attempting to shove him off of you. As you started to shove, Rafe was pulled off of you. JJ.

“She said get off asshole!” JJ yelled as he swung at Rafe’s face. Great just what you needed. A scene at the biggest most formal party of the year. Rafe was not one to be messed with especially in the state he was in. Then again, neither was JJ. “JJ! Don’t!” you yelled really not wanting to see either one of them get hurt. Rafe swung back at JJ, and he swung hard. Fists were flying all over the place. JJ’s nose was bleeding, Rafe’s eye was swollen, but they just kept going. You knew that you should honestly just let them hash it out, but if you let them continue, one of them was really going to hurt. Plus, knowing JJ, he could’ve had the gun with him. “Guys! Stop! Please don’t do this!” as you stepped in in attempts to break up the fight, you felt Rafe’s elbow come in direct contact with your eye. “Holy shit! Y/n I didn’t-” rafe stopped as he was cut off by another punch to the jaw from JJ. “Do you feel like a big boy! Do you feel good now that you just gave her a black eye?! Fuck you bro! Fuck-” “JJ! STOP! I’m fine really. I swear just stop.” you yelled interjecting once again. The rage in JJ’s eyes was something you’d only seen in movies. “Jj look at me.” you tried getting him to look at you so you could break him out of the state of aggression he was in. Rafe stood back in shock that he really just hit you. It may have been an accident, but it wasn’t something that you were going to forget. JJ was right, you were most definitely going to have a black eye. “Jj.” you grabbed his hand and he directed his attention towards you as you pulled him away from Rafe.

“Y/n I really-” Rafe began as you turned around and got in his face cutting him off almost instantly. “No. You don’t get to talk to me anymore. If you would’ve just backed off when I told you too we wouldn’t be in this situation at all. You’re dangerous, and I cant do this anymore. We’re done Rafe. I’m done!” You said almost crying. You were so overwhelmed by what had just happened that your emotions were about to explode. “I’m dangerous? How about your little pogue friend over there? Huh? He put a gun to Topper’s head!” he shot back. JJ looked as if he could’ve thrown another punch at Rafe at any minute. “Well my ‘little pogue friend’ didn’t just punch me in the face did he?! You did. You got so fucked up that you couldn’t even chill out for 1 second! JJ put a gun to Topper’s head because if he didn’t you were going to let Topper drown John B. So yeah, you’re dangerous.” this time you were angry. As all the emotions ran through your body, there was no control over which ones were going to appear.

“Alright, fine! If you wanna be a bitch about this, be a bitch. I should’ve known better than to fuck around with a pogue.” he said is one of the most arrogant tones you had ever heard. You got as close as you could to Rafe so he could see the tears pooling in your eyes. You don’t know where it came from, but you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. JJ instantly came up from behind you and grabbed you by your waist as he pulled you back in fear that Rafe would swing for you on purpose this time. “Don’t you EVER call me a bitch EVER again, or I swear to god next time a gun is pulled on you, the trigger will be too!” you spat at him. You honestly don’t know where those words came from, but the thing that scared you is that you meant it. “Is that a threat?” Rafe said quietly as he stepped toward you. JJ pulled you back and told Rafe to back up while he whispered to you to relax. “You bet your ass it is.” JJ started walking the two of you away from Rafe as Rafe decided to speak up once again. “You’re fucking crazy!” he yelled down the hallway at you. You laughed with tears now streaming down your face. You turned around and looked him dead in the eyes. “And who’s fault do you think that is?” with that you and JJ walked out of the hallway and outside the nearest door you could find. You needed air, and you needed it fast.

-

JJ opened the closest door to outside that he could find and the second the cool outside air hit you, you fell to the ground and broke out into uncontrolled sobs. You always had a feeling that Rafe would end up breaking things off with the two of you but you never thought it would go down like that. JJ just stood there eyes wide. He had seen you upset before, but he had never seen you like this. You were broken. You sat there in the sand sobbing and mumbling a string of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘whys’ and you couldn’t stop. JJ kneeled down and just pulled you to his chest just holding you. He didn’t say a word, he just let you cry. The way he held you calmed you down little by little so you could at least catch your breath again. You looked up at him and gave him a little smile as he grabbed your face and you winced at the feeling of his finger resting underneath your swollen eye. “You need ice on this ASAP. I’m going to go get you some.” he said, sounding concerned as he stood up again. You nodded as he walked off but yelled out before he went inside “JJ. wait!” He stopped in his tracks and looked back at you. “If you see the others in there, please don’t say anything!” you cried. You didn’t need everyone knowing about this right now. If they knew now, they would cause a scene and ruin the night. You were going to tell them you just needed to process what the hell just happened. He nodded and went inside.

As you sat outside by yourself who just tried your hardest to breathe. Your heart was racing and you just needed to slow it down. You laid down in the sand and looked up at the stars and looked for the north star because you remembered Sarah saying “everything revolves around it” and that brought you a sense of comfort. Just as you found it JJ came back outside with ice for your eye. You sat back up and looked out at the water as he sat down next to you. He put his arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The tears were still flowing but you weren’t crying anymore. The two of you sat in silence sighing back and forth. “I’m sorry for not stepping in sooner.” he said looking straight ahead. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just thankful you did.” you returned reliving the moment with Rafe in your head. His kisses on your neck were getting more aggressive, he was pulling your hair, his hands were wandering off to places that you didn’t want them to go. You started to cry again. “I was so scared JJ.” you buried your face in his shoulder once again letting small sobs out that you tried to hold back. “Shhh. I know. I know. It’s okay.” he was holding you again, his hand rubbing circles on your back. “He’s such an asshole! I feel like such an idiot! You all warned me about him! You all told me how awful he was and I just thought maybe you were wrong! I didn’t listen and I should’ve!” JJ shook his head and looked you in the eye “Hey stop. We knew he’s an asshole, that's a given, but the way he treated you tonight isn’t okay. It’s not your fault and you need to know that.” your head fell back to his shoulder and he laid his head on yours just before gently kissing your forehead.

You both just sat there in silence once again so you could catch your breath. “You know, you got pretty badass in there. That thing you said about pulling the trigger was intense.” JJ chuckled. You laughed a little at the thought of JJ thinking you were a badass. “The scary thing is, is I think I meant it.” you looked up at him. “Oh I know you meant it.” you both laughed. “You deserve better than him.” You looked up at him and slightly smiled at his comment. “I mean it. You deserve so much better. You have a lot to offer and people who can’t see that don’t deserve you.” something about this moment was different. As much as you loved JJ, you could both admit that he never said things that nice to anybody. “Thank you.” you said, smiling at him. He just nodded and looked back out at the water. “I’m sorry about all the shit I said about you and Rafe when you were with him. I should’ve just let you be happy, and for that I’m sorry.” He said, still looking out at the water. “It’s okay.” you said in awe that JJ maybank was actually apologizing for something. “No it’s not, I should have just supported you, but instead I just ran my mouth because in all honesty I was just jealous.” he rambled. “What?” you questioned. He was now looking away from you off in the distance. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. All I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me. Which is ridiculous and not a good reason to make you feel bad.” your heart started beating fast again, but this time in a good way. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you got no response. “JJ please look at me.” he looked at you and you noticed his eyes were pooled with tears. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey you shouldn’t be with him because you should be with me?’ I couldn’t say anything because I love you. And if I said that to you I would lose you. And that would hurt much worse than holding it in.” you looked at him in a way that you hadn’t looked at him before. He had never been this open with you about anything. There was a moment of silence before you did something you did not expect to do. You reached up and placed your hand on his cheek as you leaned in and kissed him. It was slow and sweet. It was nice. You opened your eyes to see his eyes on yours right as he kissed you back, placing his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. “It always should’ve been you.” You said before you sealed the moment with another kiss.

[obxfics]

puppybowl sunday

summary: you spend the day cuddled up watching the puppy bowl

pairing: john b x reader x jj

word count: 1654

a/n: i got inspiration watching the puppy bowl so... here we are lol also when tf is season 2 coming i want more motivation to write and shit please anyways enjoy (also this could technically belong to the “you against the world” universe but also... idk where it would fit lmao so if you want to imagine it like that have at it)

Masterlist

john b groaned as something woke him up. he had been deep in sleep, something he appreciated considering how many late night grocery or food runs he had to do for the residents of figure eight, when he felt someone shift as they laughed. he blearily opened his eyes to see you, sitting up with your back against his headboard and one of his arms flung across your waist, frozen with your hand clapped over your mouth. obviously you hadn't been meaning to laugh that hard.

"what are you doin' up so early?" he rasped, his voice kinda scratchy from sleep.

you smiled down at him and ran a hand through his thick hair, giggling when your fingers got all tangled up in it. "hon, it's two in the afternoon."

he lifted his head real quick and pouted when he saw that jj wasn't included in the cuddle pile. "shit, did i miss jj going off to work?"

"mhm. don't worry, though, i got some food into him and made sure he was wearing his mask. also put the fear of god into him if he didn't wash his hands throughout the day."

john b breathed out a laugh as he imagined you yelling at jj to stay safe at work. almost a year into the pandemic, and jj and john b had spent the whole time quaranting in the chateau to the best of their ability. it had been months since they had seen kie or pope in person for longer than a few minutes, and usually that was only when john b pulled up to the wreck to pick up delivery orders or when jj and john b helped pope's dad with grocery deliveries. at the beginning of everything, you had been spending quarantine with your boys since school was all online and your parents' restaurant was closed. a month or so in, however, regulations had been lifted and the people of figure eight all but demanded for them to reopen, and so you went back home to help your parents with the restaurant and to keep jj and john b safe from anything you could have possibly brought back to them.

you had practically locked them in the chateau, leaving them threatening voicemails if they even thought about going out, but as two months turned into three turned into four turned into five, you realized that the boys needed their jobs as there seemed no end in sight to the pandemic. so jj returned to his job at the country club, and john b got a job busing tables at your family's restaurant. you moved back in to quarantine with them as school started, and you spent practically your whole savings on getting a backup generator and high speed wifi for the chateau so if anything happened, you all would be good. and, despite living through a worldwide panda express, you were quite happy.

beside you, john b shifted his head to rest on your lap so he could see what you were watching on your laptop that had you laughing so hard. a smile grew on his face when he saw the puppies running around on the "football field" and jumping all over the "ref." he looked up at you and felt his chest blossom with warmth at the way you smiled at the puppies and giggled when they flopped over.

"did you really wake me up watching the puppy bowl?"

"hush up," you laughed, "it's a tradition, and you know it. 'sides, you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this as much as i am. i've seen how you and jj get with dogs. y'all may love them more than you love me."

"aw, honey, that's not true," john b cooed. "you know how much we love you. obviously i love you more since i didn't go to work during the puppy bowl, but you know, that's to be expected."

you shook your head and lightly swatted at his stomach. you knew he wasn't being serious. john b loved jj just as much as he loved you, and the feeling was mutual from jj. the three of you had a good thing going, a relationship full of understanding and compassion, and it had taken y'all a long time to get there. you all had things to work through, like jj's daddy issues, john b's abandonment issues, and your trauma from your previous relationship with rafe cameron, but you had gotten through it together, and this quarantine had actually brought y’all closer together which had surprised everyone.

“jj’s gonna be sad that he missed it,” you sighed.

“we’ll just rewatch it with him,” john b assured you. “and we can watch the old ones too.”

there was shuffling as the both of you wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position. at one point the two of you had to lunge to catch the laptop from falling to the floor, but eventually you settled in with john b curled around you and the blankets and pillows providing a sort of nest and elevated stand for the laptop. the room was filled with the soft sounds of puppy barks and whines, and your giggles when one of the dogs did something particularly cute, and john b let out a quiet sigh as he allowed himself to relax against you.

“i think we should get a dog,” you mumbled sleepily as john b clicked on last year’s broadcast. “we can add another cutie to our cuddle pile.”

there was some incoherent whining on your part before you dozed off in his arms. he did his best to focus on the puppies on the screen, but soon he too fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck. that was how jj found you two when he stumbled into the room later that night as he yanked his tie from his neck. he stilled in the doorway, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he saw the two people he loved most in the world all snuggled up together. and then he saw what was pulled up on the laptop.

“oh you assholes!”

the both of you jolted awake, your hand smacking john b in the face as you moved to make sure the laptop wouldn’t fall off the bed. john b rubbed at his eyes and turned to blink up at jj.

“hey, how was work, babe?”

jj shook his head as you rolled over and made grabby hands, obviously asking for cuddles. he put his hands on his hips and frowned down at the pair of you.

“i cannot believe y’all are watching the puppy bowl without me.”

“um... in my defense,” john b started, “they were already watching when i woke up.”

“dude!” you turned your head to scowl at your boyfriend. “jj, baby, come cuddle with us, and we can turn it back on.”

as he kicked his shoes off and rifled around the dresser for comfy clothes, jj shook his head. john b let out a laugh when he realized what he was getting at.

“no can do, babe,” jj told you, smirking at john b as he let his work shirt slide off his shoulders. “the superbowl starts soon, and we’re watching it.”

you fell back on the bed and let out a loud groan. you had been hoping the boys would be too tired to watch the football game. you lifted yourself up on your elbows and glared at the two of them.

“i am legitimately only watching your stupid sportsball for the weeknd. after that i will be passing the fuck out.”

jj laughed and wrapped his arms around you as he flopped down between you and john b. you couldn’t keep your glare on your face when you felt your cheek hit his bare chest. you had missed him all day. there were a few laughs and giggled--and a couples groans of pain--as the three of you got all comfortable on the queen sized bed. finally you and john b sandwiched jj, john b spooning the blonde boy as you nestled in within the warmth of jj’s arms.

“don’t he kiss his kid on the mouth?” you mumbled as one of the players ran out on the field.

a wheeze left jj’s chest as john b shouted his laugh out, causing you to smirk. you had absolutely no clue as to what was happening in the game, or even had any idea as to who the teams were, because like you told the boys, you were only watching for the weeknd concert, and you were getting more and more anxious waiting for it.

“wait, i thought both teams were supposed to be good. why does one team already have like three touchdowns and the other doesn’t have any?”

“honey,” john b said, attempting to hold in his laugh, “just watch and enjoy the game.”

you rolled your eyes, making jj smile fondly. “hon, how am i supposed to enjoy a game i don’t even understand?”

“do you want us to explain?” jj offered sweetly.

“absolutely not. i appreciate it, baby, but i’m too pretty for that.”

jj snickered and pressed a kiss into your hair. “of course you are, babe.”

you nuzzled your nose against his collarbone and tugged your hand from between the boys to gently scratch at john b’s scalp. a hum rumbled deep within the brunette’s chest at the action.

“i love y’all,” you whispered into jj’s skin. “even if y’all make me watch football.”

“well we love you too,” jj returned with a kiss to your cheek and john b’s arm.

“even if you make us watch the weeknd,” john b teased.

“hey! you better appreciate abel or i swear i’m moving out!”

taglist (ahaha heyyy it’s been a while so tell me if y’all want to be removed): @damndunner​ @scandalousfemale @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @write-from-the-heart​ @kurtsconner​ @thatjohnd​ @abbiesthings​ @heavenlymama​ @strangerthanfiction713 @alexis-marrt022 @brithedemonspawn​ @obxsummer​

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: As a beginner in Classics I love your Classicist themed posts. I find your caption perfect posts a lot to think upon. I suppose it’s been more than a few years since you read Classics at Cambridge but my question is do you still bother to read any Classic texts and if so what are you currently reading?

I don’t know whether to be flattered or get depressed by your (sincere) remarks. Thank you so much for reminding me how old I must come across as my youngish Millennial bones are already starting to creak from all my sins of past sport injuries and physical exertions. I’m reminded of what J.R.R Tolkien wrote, “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” I know the feeling (sigh).

But pay heed, dear follower, to what Menander said of old age, Τίμα το γήρας, ου γαρ έρχεται μόνον (respect old age, for it does not come alone). Presumably he means we all carry baggage. One hopes that will be wisdom which is often in the form of experience, suffering, and regret. So I’m not ready to trade in my high heels and hiking boots for a walking stick and granny glasses just yet.

To answer your question, yes, I still to read Classical literature and poetry in their original text alongside trustworthy translations. Every day in fact. 

I learned Latin when I was around 8 or 9 years old and Greek came later - my father and grandfather are Classicists - and so it would be hard to shake it off even if I tried.

So why ‘bother’ to read Classics? There are several reasons. First, the Classics are the Swiss Army knife to unpick my understanding other European languages that I grew up with learning. Second, it increases my cultural literacy out of which you can form informed aesthetic judgements about any art form from art, music, and literature. Third, Classical history is our shared history which is so important to fathom one’s roots and traditions. Fourth, spending time with the Classics - poetry, myth, literature, history - inspires moral insight and virtue. Fifth, grappling with classical literature informs the mind by developing intellectual discipline, reason, and logic.

And finally, and perhaps one I find especially important, is that engaging with Classical literature, poetry, or history, is incredibly humbling; for the classical world first codified the great virtues of prudence, temperance, justice, loyalty, sacrifice, and courage. These are qualities that we all painfully fall short of in our every day lives and yet we still aspire to such heights.

I’m quite eclectic in my reading. I don’t really have a method other than what my mood happens to be. I have my trusty battered note book and pen and I sit my arse down to translate passages wherever I can carve out a place to think. It’s my answer to staving off premature dementia when I really get old because quite frankly I’m useless at Soduku. We spend so much time staring at screens and passively texting that we don’t allow ourselves to slow down and think that physically writing gives you that luxury of slow motion time and space. In writing things out you are taking the time to reflect on thoughts behind the written word.

I do make a point of reading Homer’s The Odyssey every year because it’s just one of my favourite stories of all time. Herodotus and Thucydides were authors I used to read almost every day when I was in the military and especially when I went out to war in Afghanistan. Not so much these days. Of the Greek poets, I still read Euripides for weighty stuff and Aristophanes for toilet humour. Aeschylus, Archilochus and Alcman, Sappho, Hesiod, and Mimnermus, Anacreon, Simonides, and others I read sporadically.

I read more Latin than Greek if I am honest. From Seneca, Caesar, Cicero, Sallust, Tacitus, Livy, Apuleius, Virgil, Ovid, the younger Pliny to Augustine (yes, that Saint Augustine of Hippo). Again, there is no method. I pull out a copy from my book shelves and put it in my tote bag when I know I’m going on a plane trip for work reasons.

At the moment I am spending time with Horace. More precisely, his famous odes.

Of all the Greek and Latin poets, I feel spiritually comfortable with Horace. He praises a simple life of moderation in a much gentler tone than other Roman writers. Although Horace’s odes were written in imitation of Greek writers like Sappho, I like his take on friendship, love, alcohol, Roman politics and poetry itself. With the arguable exception of Virgil, there is no more celebrated Roman poet than Horace. His Odes set a fashion among English speakers that come to bear on poets to this day. His Ars Poetica, a rumination on the art of poetry in the form of a letter, is one of the seminal works of literary criticism. Ben Jonson, Pope, Auden, and Frost are but a few of the major poets of the English language who owe a debt to the Roman.

We owe to Horace the phrases, “carpe diem” or “seize the day” and the “golden mean” for his beloved moderation. Victorian poet Alfred Lord Tennyson, of Ancient Mariner fame, praised the odes in verse and Wilfred Owen’s great World War I poem, Dulce et Decorum est, is a response to Horace’s oft-quoted belief that it is “sweet and fitting” to die for one’s country.

Unlike many poets, Horace lived a full life. And not always a happy one. Horace was born in Venusia, a small town in southern Italy, to a formerly enslaved mother. He was fortunate to have been the recipient of intense parental direction. His father spent a comparable fortune on his education, sending him to Rome to study. He later studied in Athens amidst the Stoics and Epicurean philosophers, immersing himself in Greek poetry. While led a life of scholarly idyll in Athens, a revolution came to Rome. Julius Caesar was murdered, and Horace fatefully lined up behind Brutus in the conflicts that would ensue. His learning enabled him to become a commander during the Battle of Philippi, but Horace saw his forces routed by those of Octavian and Mark Antony, another stop on the former’s road to becoming Emperor Augustus.

When he returned to Italy, Horace found that his family’s estate had been expropriated by Rome, and Horace was, according to his writings, left destitute. In 39 B.C., after Augustus granted amnesty, Horace became a secretary in the Roman treasury by buying the position of questor's scribe. In 38, Horace met and became the client of the artists' patron Maecenas, a close lieutenant to Augustus, who provided Horace with a villa in the Sabine Hills. From there he began to write his satires. Horace became the major lyric Latin poet of the era of the Augustus age. He is famed for his Odes as well as his caustic satires, and his book on writing, the Ars Poetica. His life and career were owed to Augustus, who was close to his patron, Maecenas. From this lofty, if tenuous, position, Horace became the voice of the new Roman Empire. When Horace died at age 59, he left his estate to Augustus and was buried near the tomb of his patron Maecenas.

Horace’s simple diction and exquisite arrangement give the odes an inevitable quality; the expression makes familiar thoughts new. While the language of the odes may be simple, their structure is complex. The odes can be seen as rhetorical arguments with a kind of logic that leads the reader to sometimes unexpected places. His odes speak of a love of the countryside that dedicates a farmer to his ancestral lands; exposes the ambition that drives one man to Olympic glory, another to political acclaim, and a third to wealth; the greed that compels the merchant to brave dangerous seas again and again rather than live modestly but safely; and even the tensions between the sexes that are at the root of the odes about relationships with women.

What I like then about Horace is his sense of moderation and he shows the gap between what we think we want and what we actually need. Horace has a preference for the small and simple over the grandiose. He’s all for independence and self-reliance.

If there is one thing I would nit pick Horace upon is his flippancy to the value of the religious and spiritual. The gods are often on his lips, but, in defiance of much contemporary feeling, he absolutely denied an afterlife - which as a Christian I would disagree with. So inevitably “gather ye rosebuds while ye may” is an ever recurrent theme, though Horace insists on a Golden Mean of moderation - deploring excess and always refusing, deprecating, dissuading.

All in all he champions the quiet life, a prayer I think many men and women pray to the gods to grant them when they are caught in the open Aegean, and a dark cloud has blotted out the moon, and the sailors no longer have the bright stars to guide them. A quiet life is the prayer of Thrace when madness leads to war. A quiet life is the prayer of the Medes when fighting with painted quivers: a commodity, Grosphus, that cannot be bought by jewels or purple or gold? For no riches, no consul’s lictor, can move on the disorders of an unhappy mind and the anxieties that flutter around coffered ceilings.

Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt (they change their sky, not their soul, who rush across the sea.)

Part of Horace’s persona - lack of political ambition, satisfaction with his life, gratitude for his land, and pride in his craft and the recognition it wins him - is an expression of an intricate web of awareness of place. Reading Horace will centre you and get you to focus on what is most important in life. In Horace’s discussion of what people in his society value, and where they place their energy and time, we can find something familiar. Horace brings his reader to the question - what do we value?  

Much like many of our own societies, Rome was bustling with trade and commerce, ambition, and an area of vast, diverse civilisation. People there faced similar decisions as we do today, in what we pursue and why. As many of us debate our place and purpose in our world, our poet reassures us all. We have been coursing through Mondays for thousands of years. Horace beckons us: take a brief moment from the day’s busy hours. Stretch a little, close your eyes while facing the warm sun, and hear the birds and the quiet stream. The mind that is happy for the present should refuse to worry about what is further ahead; it should dilute bitter things with a mild smile.

I would encourage anyone to read these treasures in translations. For you though, as a budding Classicist, read the texts in Latin and Greek if you can. Wrestle with the word. The struggle is its own reward. Whether one reads from the original or from a worthy translation, the moral virtue (one hopes) is wisdom and enlightenment.

Pulvis et umbra sumus

(We are but dust and shadow.)

Thanks for your question.

[marcspectrr]

A word or two on Kiara's mental health...

Before I attempt to summarize the 39 page slideshow living rent free in my brain, a preface! This will include spoilers for s2, as well as a few mentions of suicidal thoughts! Also. I love Kiara Carrera with all of my heart so if you're not a fan of her, you might wanna keep scrolling. If you don't vibe with her that's perfectly fine, but this post is heavy with Kiara appreciation, be warned, my respect for her runs deep. The choice is yours, of course, just understand that I'm writing this bc @yellowlaboratory among others have encouraged me to get it out there because it's all I've been thinking about since I watched s2. This is not to start anything.

(This is also not me hating on Pope because I genuinely like his character, he's just made some very questionable choices throughout the show, some I can forgive and some that still don't sit right with me.)

Deep breath, here we go.

It's no secret Kiara has been poorly handled by the writers and therefore the characters at times. We got little development in s1 compared to other main male characters, leaving us to fill in the gaps as far as her ambitions, motivations, family, overall interest in the boys, etc. While I do keep this in mind, I could rant about it for days so for this I'm going off of what we have as well as what's been implied.

Kiara didn't have the same upbringing as the boys but it's clear the Carrera's had/have their struggles. She's got her foot in both worlds, not quite 'rich' but not entirely 'poor', inevitably giving her a fragile sense of belonging and identity. 16 is a hard age even without societal pressures and growing up in a classist environment, but here is where we're assuming the boys come in. They give her a place to feel comfortable in her own skin, with shared interests and accepting her for who she is, which we know the kooks don't provide. Just being around them helps ease those deep insecurities, helps her form meaningful bonds. We weren't given an explicit scene where this was shown but over the course of the two seasons it's clear how she feels about them and what they do for her mentally.

Her relationship with the pogues, however, puts a rift between her and her parents. Mike and Anna clearly want what's best for Kie but it's also obvious they've struggled with her even before the pogues. Anna wants Kiara to have the things she never got growing up, breeding a disconnect since Kiara doesn't share in her mother's interests. This leads into my biggest problem with Kiara's arc in s2, which was how Anna and Mike were written. 

Yes, Kiara didn't/doesn't treat them the best but it went both ways -- they all failed at communicating. Instead of finding a common ground and compensating for the things Kiara cares about, Anna shuts her down and ignores her, leaving her to feel like a problem rather than a person, further perpetuating even less healthy communication. Kiara even says in s2 that's why she doesn't like going home, because it always means walking into an argument and not feeling accepted.

I sorta expected a little more understanding from Anna considering her own background with pogues but instead it backfired. And Mike...he didn't contribute much at all. They could've all done better and need some work. Kiara could be more grateful and Anna and Mike are the parents, the adults, they need to make the space feel safe to talk. Kie didn't just wake up one day and decide to act out and keep her parents in the dark all the time, that stems from not feeling listened to when she does try and open up.

Expanding on this with...the whole Blue Ridge plot. Moment of silence for the show neglecting to acknowledge the academy,  even though it clearly had a big impact on Kiara's life. In s1 we got a brief look into how her 'kook year' affected her and it was not good. More isolation, blurred identity, insecurity and this time suicidal thoughts, with no one to turn to for support, assuming she was not on good terms with her parents then either. I'm assuming this because for them to send her to the academy, hoping to give her better opportunities only for it to end with her wanting to cut her wrists, to then thinking the best option is to send her away again? At this point I hope they didn’t know how badly the academy affected her because sending her away a second time with that knowledge is such a hurtful and oblivious move.

Kiara already thinks her parents see her as a burden, hurting her sense of worth as is. I really wanted to like the Carrera's and I still feel like they genuinely love and care for Kie, I just need to see more communication maybe. And if they choose to include the Blue Ridge plot, which I'm leaning towards yes on that one, I hope it's handled somewhat well, preferably not a tool to create drama even though I know a lot of people want to see it be used that way. I'm very particular, I'm sorry I'm this way.

Things I've seen her being criticized for in s2 is her behavior. The thing that people have to remember is that she's 16 and teenagers are just not the best with navigating their emotions. She made questionable choices (the 'murderer' thing and 'abusing' Pope) but these are both things that fit the plot and her character. She was by no means the only one grieving so I don't know why she's being targeted for it (although I'm not surprised, the fandom treats her horribly). Some of her core characteristics are her high moral integrity as well as her headstrong belief in people and causes. She's never been one to make herself palatable for people and s2 shows a lot of this (calling out the Cameron's, going off in front of the court, etc). Even if it caused them problems and even if they are flaws, that doesn't make her an inherently intolerable character, it makes her realistic. She was not in a good place emotionally and it would've been wrong to shy away from depicting it any other way, especially in a show where the teenage experience is decently represented.

Now with the Pope thing. I think it was handled as well as it could've been considering the circumstances. It really should've never happened but to justify it, emotions are messy, relationships even messier and they were both spiraling at the end of s1. I don't agree with the way it started (why give Kie the line of literally telling him she wanted something different only to show them together next episode, I'm forever confused) but I'm not mad about how it ended. They were both in the wrong at times so only bringing up Kie's faults is just unfair.

I believe they both tried their best and even wanted to feel the right things but learned quickly that's not exactly how it works, which was how it was supposed to be shown. Not as this romanticized, idealistic healthy relationship but as one that has its bumps and was bred out of all the wrong things. All of their body language pointed towards this. Pope didn't deserve to be hurt but Kie clearly didn't intend for things to turn out how they did. She wasn't mentally comfortable enough for a relationship and I can appreciate them showing this in the ways the writers framed it. Even the conversation with Kie describing their night on the beach, I think it was perfect. It was awkward but it was honest, which is so important.

Overall, I think Kiara's gone through a lot mentally that the show could be better at exploring. It doesn't have to be big, obvious lingering shots, they can be subtle and still mean so much to people who relate to her. Seeing someone on screen grapple with real life struggles (even if the show walks a painfully fine line as far as realism), it means a lot. Especially when mental health (more prominent than ever) is so rarely portrayed to translate in any significant way in media now. It's definitely something I would love to see get more time and effort so until then, just know I'll be manifesting the screen time Kiara Carrera deserves.

[stardusttkachuk]

Santa’s Workshop

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, swearing,

Summary: JJ picks up a holiday job, working as one of Santa’s elves. He doesn’t expect to meet another elf there, but isn’t disappointed in who he’ll be working with all season.

A/N: This is day 1 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas. Find other fics in my masterlist

Wanna be tagged? click here!

“You look fucking ridiculous,” John B says as JJ stands in front of the broken full length mirror that JB picked up from a junkyard.

“At least I have a job, asshat.” He fixes his hat on his head, grimacing at the way the tights hug his body. He’s uncomfortable in every place imaginable and is already dreading the 5 hour shift.

“Maybe if you’re a good elf, Santa will bring you a girlfriend this year!” Pope teases.

“You better shut the fuck up before this elf beats you to a pulp,” JJ threatens, fists raised.

Pope laughs. “I don’t think elves are supposed to be getting in fist fights.”

JJ huffs and rolls his eyes. Pope is right. He can’t show up to this job covered in bruises, that would scare the kids even more than he probably already will.

“Will you please drive me?” He asks John B. 

“Maybe you should ask Santa for a car,” John B says, grabbing the keys to the Twinkie.

“Why do you think I even took this job in the first place? Please. I don’t want to be seen in public like this.”

You set your bag in the provided cubby, checking your phone one last time before your scheduled session. When you had signed up to be one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, you were ecstatic. You and your best friend had been doing this for the last two years. But this year, your best friend ditched you for the hot chocolate stand. Really she ditched you for the cute girl who worked at the hot chocolate stand, and now you were stuck working with some kid named JJ Maybank. You crossed your fingers in hopes that he wasn’t some loser like the guy they hired last season.

“Santa arrives in 10 minutes! You better be out there in 5!” Natasha, the showrunner of Santa’s Workshop yells through the improvised locker and changing room. “Where’s your other elf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Well when he gets here tell him he’s a dead man if he isn’t here 15 minutes prior to his shift.” She storms out, clipboard in hand. 

The first day is always one of the craziest. Things don’t settle down until a few weeks in. And by the time they do settle down, it’s already the week before Christmas and they get crazy again. 

“Hi. I’m JJ Maybank. I think this is where I’m supposed to be?” You hear someone say, likely talking to the nutcracker that’s posted outside the green room.

“In there. Find Y/N. You’ll know it’s her because she’ll be dressed just like you.”

You roll your eyes. At least he showed up. Ten minutes late but he did make it.

He passes through the curtains, blonde hair a mess under his elf hat. You’ll have to remind him to brush it before he arrives. You have an extra brush in your bag, but you know you won’t have time to make it look perfect.

He spies you easily, strutting towards you. “I’m JJ. Are you Y/N?” 

“That’s me. You’re late, by the way.”

JJ looks at his watch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m five minutes early! That’s the earliest I’ve been for any job!”

“Natasha’s rules state all workshop employees must be present 15 minutes prior to their shift.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “It’s only ten minutes.”

“And if it happens again, you’re a dead man. So you better be here 15 minutes early next time.”

“Okay but why 15? Aren’t we just sitting around those 15 minutes until our shift starts?”

“It’s for costume malfunctions. Like your hair. It needs to be brushed. If you had been here 10 minutes earlier, maybe we would’ve had time to brush it and make it look better.”

“My hair looks fine,” JJ grumbles, though he does attempt to smooth down the ends with his hands. 

You lead him over to the cubby next to yours, gesturing to it. “Put your stuff in here. And that includes your phone.”

JJ places both his phone and wallet into the cubby. He then takes his jacket off and puts it on top of the two valuable items.

“No one is going to steal your stuff, if you’re worried about that. This place is heavily monitored,” you say. “And no one but Santa’s crew is allowed back here anyway.”

JJ is about to speak when an elderly woman with white hair tucked under her hat enters the room. “Looks like Mrs. Claus has arrived,” he jokes.

“That’s Natasha.” You grab JJ’s hand, pulling him out to Santa’s corner before Natasha has a chance to yell at him for his tardiness.

“So what exactly do we do?” JJ whispers, eyeing the line of children and their parents that seems to wrap around the entire display.

“We help the kids from their parents to Santa’s lap and then back out to their parents again. And don’t forget the candy cane before they leave.”

JJ grimaces. “You mean we have to interact with the kids?”

“Yes. Now smile and act like an elf,” you say.

“How do- ohf!” JJ grunts as you elbow him and immediately reach forward for the hand of a little girl.

“Hi! I’m elf Y/N! And this is my friend elf JJ! What’s your name?” You ask in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m Sophie,” she beams. She grasps onto JJ’s hand and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the face he makes. It’s clear he isn’t a fan of kids and you can’t wait to watch him interact with them for the next 30 days.

JJ pulls his booties on over the tights, chuckling to himself as the bells jingle. They jingle every time he walks. He’s grown so used to the sound now though. He’s grown used to looking absolutely ridiculous in his costume. He’s even grown used to the kids, which he thought was impossible.

But the way Y/N smiles when he coos at a baby or holds onto a preschoolers hand has helped him get over his dislike of the kids. He’d do just about anything to see her smile.

“Ready?” John B asks from the doorway, keys looped around his finger.

“Actually a friend is picking me up,” JJ says, grabbing his phone and wallet.

“What friend? You don’t have any friends besides us.”

“Well that’s very rude of you to think. I have plenty of friends. And her name is Y/N. We work together.”

“Work together or sleep together? Or both. Do you guys like, get it on in the costumes?”

“Ew, no,” JJ scoffs.

“Okay, you know elves is somebody's kink,” John B adds, shuddering as he does.

“I didn’t want to know that. I don’t want to think about that.”

“Okay but Y/N… you like her.”

“No. We’re just friends. We’re coworkers. We work the same shift and she offered to give me a ride, okay? Now can you make yourself disappear before she gets here? I don’t want her seeing your face.”

John B pouts. “Why not? I have a very likable face.”

“Just… please?” JJ asks, but it’s too late. 

The beat up Ford truck pulls up in front of the house. JJ knows it’s hers. On days when they work late and it’s dark outside by the time they leave, he walks her to her car. They once spent two extra hours after work sitting in her car and talking. She even gave him a ride home once, but he made her drop him off down the street. It was too risky for her to pull up to his actual house, especially if his dad was home. 

JJ knows John B is in the doorway when he exits the house. He watches as Y/N waves, a courteous smile on her face. JJ walks to the passenger side, hearing the familiar squeak of the old door.

“Who’s that?”

“John B. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s dating Sarah Cameron right?” she asks.

“Yeah. You know Sarah?”

“Everyone on this island knows Sarah,” Y/N laughs. JJ knows she’s not wrong. Everyone did know the Cameron's, especially after the huge scandal that went down last summer. People don’t typically forget about a murder and stealing of millions of dollars worth in gold.

“Right,” JJ laughs nervously. 

You tear your elf hat off as soon as you reach your truck. Today was a hard shift. Multiple crying kids, lines that wrapped all around the mall, parents who didn’t understand the concept of patience and waiting, and then there was the kid that peed on Santa Claus and made everyone wait even longer while Santa went to change. It was a nightmare. 

If it wasn’t for JJ, today would’ve been the day you quit.

But he insisted on stopping for dinner before you dropped him off, so here you were, sitting at a booth across from him, the both of you still clad in your elf costumes.

You probably looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. JJ was your sole focus tonight. He let you vent to him about the craziness of the day and when you weren’t talking he was telling you about the funniest wishes he had overheard while on candy cane duty. 

“All their missing socks?” You laugh, hand covering your mouth.

JJ nods, laughing harder. “He-He couldn’t understand why the dryer monster needed his socks more than him. He even asked if-if monsters were on the naughty list!” JJ bursts out laughing, as do you. If there was one thing that could cheer you up, it was this.

“Kids got a point,” you giggle. “Why does the dryer monster only take one sock and not both? Do you think he only has one leg?”

JJ nods, his smile wide. “Yeah, instead of one eye he’s got one leg.”

Your laughs die down slowly, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The smile that was forced all throughout the day was now a real one.

“I’ve missed that smile,” JJ says, reaching his hand across the table.

You blush but take his hand without hesitation, lacing your fingers through his.

JJ nervously clears his throat. “Do you think when this is all over, I can take you on an actual date?”

You’re not sure your smile could get any wider. “I’d like that.”

You both stare at each other for a while longer, before JJ can’t wait anymore. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, leaning over the table.

“I’d like that too,” you respond, meeting him halfway.

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @serpentbaby @etoilesnoor @k-k0129 @maybanksbaby @talksoprettyjjx @canibeoneofthepogues @multifixx  @theonetheonlyalexbrown @glux64 @shy-1234 @sleepyhollands @cognacdelights @ilovejjmaybank @blueeyedbesson @cheshirecat107 @myrandom-fandomlife @makebank @ifilwtmfc @obxmxybxnk  @kookkyra @rafej-cambanks @blindedbypeaky @ahiae @repostcentral @midnightzonzz @blxndeprincess @dracosbbygorl @itsagurl @Poguesinablanket @amandaburris @tovvaa @sunnsettee

[pogueshomecoming]

like to be you - jj maybank x reader

requested? nope

description: based on the song by shawn mendes and julia michaels, kook!reader and jj get in a fight about his dad and it reiterates that their lives are very different

masterlist, taglist, and request links are in my bio :)

warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of cuts and bruises, angst, arguments

word count: 2.5k

++

The chateau's door opens with a creak, and your attention is pulled away from the conversation Pope and John B are having. JJ stumbles in, barely able to walk. You're on your feet in an instant.

"JJ?" John B follows after you, Pope trailing behind him. JJ makes it four more steps before he collapses to the ground, whimpering in pain. His hair falls out of his face to reveals his bloody and bruised face.

You fall to your knees right next to him, scooting closer so his head can rest in your lap. He groans and tries to curl into himself when you lift his shirt to see if he's bleeding anywhere else. "JJ, what the hell? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Concern fills your voice, but JJ shakes his head. "I need a shower. I'll be fine tomorrow."

JJ goes to sit up, and you have to keep your hands pressed to his back as a guide. There's no way he'd be able to stand in the shower alone.

"Was this your dad again?" Pope crouches in front of the blonde boy, taking in the bruises on his shins that looked way too similar to a boot's imprint.

"Yeah." His voice is weak, strained from using his energy, and probably screaming at his father. Your blood boils. At what point will JJ stop going home? What would it take?

"I'll help you into the shower." You mumble, trying not to show your anger because it's not JJ you're mad at. JJ tries to smile but ends up wincing, and the boys help him to his feet. John B and Pope help your boyfriend into the bathroom while you grab fresh towels from the bag of laundry you brought over this morning.

He's sitting on the toilet lid by himself when you enter the bathroom, his shirt already on the floor. You can see two more cuts on each side of his ribcage in addition to the busted lip and eyebrow. The bruise on his hip is the worst. Usually, his blood has dried by the time he gets here, but it looks like he's reopened the wounds.

"God, JJ. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts." You shut the door behind you and quickly turn on the shower. It's not long before steam starts to fill the room.

"Are you going to get in with me?" JJ's voice is soft as he undresses his lower half.

"If that's what you want." He nods, and you start to undress, too, letting him use you as a crutch once you're both ready to get in.

The silence between you two isn't uncommon. JJ knows there's not much for you to say when he's like this because he knows you hate it. You hate seeing him hurt.

You use a washcloth to scrub around the cuts gently while he watches the water turn red and swirl around the drain. One of them could need stitches, but you know he won't listen. JJ uses sleep as a cure-all.

He leans against you when you've finished cleaning his wounds, letting his forehead press into the crook of your neck. His fingers are tracing patterns in your back.

"Don't you think it's time to get out of there, J? You could move in here permanently." Your voice is quiet, and the sounds of the shower would've drowned it out if JJ wasn't skin to skin with you.

"What do you mean?" JJ pulls back, so now his hands are on your elbows.

You sigh, not sure if this would be a touchy subject in JJ's mind. "Like... this happens every time you go home, so you could not go home anymore? I don't like seeing you hurt for no reason."

"Y/N, I avoid my father as much as possible already. It sounds a lot like you're telling me it's my fault if I keep going back there." JJ furrows his brow and shakes his head, indicating that he's bothered by your words.

"No, no, of course it isn't your fault. I know you already avoid him. I just thought that maybe it's time to move away from that situation and separate yourself."

JJ is quiet, and you look at your feet, knowing you've upset him, and it's too late to take it back.

"I'm here enough. John B isn't responsible for me. It's fine, Y/N. I'll only go when he's not there from now on." JJ squeezes your arms, trying to be reassuring, but you've still got that pit in your stomach, and you've never been good at keeping your mouth shut.

"What are you talking about? John B would love for you to stay here, even more so if it meant you were staying out of danger. My family has a guest house. If you're worried about bothering JB, I can-"

"I'm a Pogue, Y/N, not a Kook. Your parents wouldn't let me stay, and I don't want to. That's not how this works. I'm not taking a handout. We've talked about it before. Not everyone wants what the Kooks have, alright? Can we drop it?" His voice rises, having more of a bite as his anger grows, and he lets go of you.

"Hey, this is not about me being a Kook. I hate when you throw that in my face, and you know it. This is about you always going back there because you think you deserve what he does to you!" The words hang in the air after you've spoken them. The only sound between the two of you is the water running. You're sure that your friends heard the argument through the paper-thin walls.

JJ visibly falters. His shoulders slump, and he starts to fiddle with his hands as he turns his back to you. After a moment, his body begins to shake as he holds back tears. You're not sure if there's anything you can say to make it better.

"Wait, J, I-" You stop talking when he turns around abruptly.

"I can't, okay? I can't leave him there. He thinks the groceries magically appear in the fridge. He thinks that he's getting paid leave from work. I work my ass off to provide for him. What happens when I stop? He'd fucking die, and then it's my fault. After everything he's done to me, I hate him. I fucking hate him, but I can't leave him."

JJ doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he gets out of the shower. You're shocked. He's never walked away from an argument. Sure, you've fought before, but it never ends with one of you leaving.

You wait until you hear the bathroom door shut to turn the water off, and then you take your time drying off. There were no clothes for you to change into, so you make sure your towel is tucked tightly before you exit the bathroom.

John B, Pope, and Kie are sitting on the couch. Kie must've arrived in the last few minutes, but the looks on their faces confirm that they heard everything. They try to look away once they realize you're looking at them, but it's too late.

"Goodnight, guys." You say weakly, feeling like you're going to cry any second now. It feels stupid to cry. JJ is the one who's hurt, but you don't want that for him anymore.

In response, they all mumble goodnight, and you turn on your heel to enter the guest room.

JJ is already in bed, the covers are pulled to his waist, and he's facing away from the door. The bandages and alcohol pads and trash that comes with that is on the dresser, so you know he's already done what you usually do for him.

Both of you are silent as you move around the room to get dressed. With each step closer, you start to dread getting into bed. When you have nothing else left, you ease in as gently as possible after turning off the light.

You didn't imagine the bed to feel so cold, and it triggers the tears you'd been holding back for JJ's sake. If he notices, he doesn't do or say anything. You lay on your back and look at the ceiling, letting your tears fall past your ears and into your hair.

The relationship you have with your father is hugely different than JJ's with his. You've never been scared to go home, you've never flinched from someone's touch, and you've never had to yearn for a parent's love and affection. The two of you live very different lives.

"I don't want to go to bed like this," JJ says softly. You hear the motion of the blankets before you feel the warmth of his hand enclosing your wrist.

"I'm sorry, J. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm not that one who got hurt. I'm so-"

"Tired. We're both tired. I'll never judge you for crying. There's nothing left to say. Let's call a truce."

It wasn't an outright acceptance of your apology, but it was close. There were still more things you needed to say, but JJ is right. You're both tired, and it's time to go to sleep. For now, you'll stay in this weird in-between spot where you don't know if he's still upset or not.

"Yeah, sounds good." You choke out, managing so sound somewhat natural.

JJ doesn't retract his hand, but he doesn't move any closer, leaving you to fall asleep grasping onto the little warmth you're getting from him.

+

You wake up before JJ. Somehow your internal alarm clock is always set for earlier in the morning when your anxiety is high. He's snoring softly next to you, the bruises on his face already looking better.

JJ rolls from his side to his back, the covers falling off of him to reveal that he's almost bled through his bandages. You scoot out of bed as quietly as you can.

After leaving the room to brush your teeth, you come back with a damp washcloth and gather the medical supplies from the dresser. You start to tend to JJ's wounds while trying not to wake him up. What is he going to say when he wakes up? Is he still going to be upset with you?

It was naive of you to think your anxiety would go away overnight, but you're not sure you want to have another conversation about it. JJ stirs before you're ready, and his pretty blue eyes look at you curiously.

He said there wasn't anything left to say last night, but there was and still is. However, when you make eye contact, all of it goes out the window. You blank.

"Thanks for cleaning that up, baby." JJ smiles sweetly. You're head starts spinning with possibilities. Is he going to act as if nothing happened? Will he throw it in your face randomly to make you feel worse about it? Nothing that JJ has ever done previously would lead you to believe he'd do that, but it's where your mind takes you.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" That always cheers both of you up, but you can't tell if you're offering for him or yourself.

"Sure, sweetheart. It's too cold to swim, but I bet our spot will be open."

There was a specific tree on the beach that you and JJ liked to lay under sometimes. It had the perfect amount of shade and sun because you got cold too quickly, and JJ the opposite. Out of all of the memories you have, those are the fondest.

By the time you get to the beach, JJ still seems as normal as ever. You hadn't expected him to wake up screaming or yelling, but you did think he'd say something else—anything to make you feel like he didn't hate you for what you said would be nice.

JJ pulls you down onto the blanket with him to assume your regular cuddling position, but it's modified slightly with his bandages. "You don't have to act like I'll break, Y/N. I've survived a lot of things so far, so accidentally putting your hand over my wound isn't going to do shit."

"Alright, alright." You allow yourself to giggle despite your mind telling you that he's angry with you.

The two of you trail off into silence after a few moments of laughter, both deep in thought. You nervously pick at your nails, wondering what JJ is thinking about. Does he have a speech he's rehearsing in his head? Is he waiting for the right moment?

"Y/N, how could you? You didn't-"

"I'm sorry, JJ. About what I said, I didn't mean to come at you like that. You should still be mad at me, I-" you start to ramble, but JJ cuts you off.

"What? I was going to say you didn't give me my good morning kiss. You always do. Are you still thinking about the fight? It's fine, Y/N, really. Look at me," JJ shifts so you can turn to face him.

"It was harsh, but I needed to hear it. In some ways, I think you're right. Sometimes I blame myself for my mother leaving, which is why he's the way he is, so it comes full circle. I know that's fucked up, but it's getting better. I'm getting better. Why didn't you tell me you were still worrying about it?"

You have to ignore your heartbreaking at his words to be able to talk. JJ has let his father into his head, but you can imagine how hard it would be not to.

"I don't know. You stopped the conversation last night, and I didn't want to push anymore than I already did. I figured I'd wait until you were ready to talk about it, but I've been anxious all morning thinking about it." You take a deep breath.

"Sometimes, when we fight, it scares me because I feel like I'm going to lose you a little each time. We get so caught up in the moment, and I just... We're so different. I don't know what it's like to be you."

JJ places his hands on either side of your face, and at the same time, he wipes a tear that has fallen onto your cheek.

"You can always tell me what's inside of your head, alright? No matter what you say, I won't love you any less. You're right, you don't know what it's like to be me, but I'm in the same boat. Our differences aren't what defines us, right? We've said that since the beginning." JJ reassures you by giving you a quick and sweet kiss.

"I love you, J."

You shove yourself into his chest, and maybe you miss the wince on JJ's face, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't mind. The weight you've been carrying on your shoulders since he left you in the shower last night is gone.

But you might disagree with JJ. Your differences are what makes you right for each other. JJ is the one that pulls you out when you're stuck far in the depths of your mind, and you're the one who cleans his cuts and bruises. You don't understand what he goes through, but you're still there to pick up the pieces, and that's all that matters to him.

++

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