#it sounds as if they talked about this a fair bit

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening the Deal.

Summary: Feeling stuck and desperate for a change in life, you meet Melissa Schemmenti, a sophisticated and wealthy woman at a bar. As you talk, a beneficial arrangement is made —you become her sugar baby in exchange for financial support and a life of luxury.

Tags: @italianaidiota @lisaannwaltersbra

Part 2.

It was supposed to be easy. You’d been in these types of arrangements before — usually with someone older, someone with the means to provide. A little fun, some affection, an exchange of care and comfort for the right lifestyle. It was straightforward.

Nothing that serious, just someone to take care of you, spoil you with a luxurious life, and maybe provide some excitement every once in a while. And you’d gotten good at playing the role, keeping the personal stuff at arm’s length and only showing the parts that were needed to make it work. You had your own reasons for this, but when it came down to it, it was all about getting something you needed, and being charming enough to keep it flowing.

You were only twenty-four, yet the strain of trying to make ends meet had already worn on you. You lived in a rundown apartment with leaky pipes and cracked walls, a place that felt more like a shelter than a home. The thin walls meant you could hear every fight between your neighbors, every sound from the street below. It was cheap, sure, but every night you’d lie awake, listening to the hum of the old radiator, wondering how long you could keep going like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You’d always imagined yourself living with a bit more security by now, maybe even enjoying the occasional luxury. Instead, your days blurred together in a monotony of bills, grocery budgets, and stretching the little you had to last. You’d settled into a job that, while stable, had slowly begun to drain you. The paychecks were barely enough to cover rent, groceries, and the never-ending list of repairs your landlord promised to fix but never did. Each month, it felt like you were just one unexpected expense away from drowning.

The job itself didn’t help. It was the kind that offered no thrill, no satisfaction — just a steady flow of hours clocked in and clocked out, all while your dreams of something more started to gather dust. You’d watch others, people who seemed to glide through life without a care, and wondered what it would feel like to have even a fraction of that ease.

So when someone with money crossed your path, offering more than just their captivating presence, it felt like a window opening, a brief glimpse into a different world. A world where you didn’t have to worry about leaky pipes or thin walls, where you could shed the weight of all those unfulfilled promises and simply live — at least for a little while.

It felt odd to pretend to be interested in someone just for the benefits. Unfortunately there was no out. Since you were a child, you’d known that life was rarely fair. Your mom had made sure of that. She was a single mother, a fiercely determined woman who raised you on her own after a messy divorce. She didn’t sugarcoat things, either; she’d tell you straight-up that the world could be a cruel place, especially for a woman trying to make it alone.

From her, you learned early that being good wasn’t always enough. She taught you resilience, to work hard and keep your expectations realistic, to push forward even when things felt impossible. And, maybe unintentionally, she taught you that sometimes, you had to rely on yourself more than anyone else because no one was going to hand you anything.

Even as a kid, you’d seen the way she struggled, how she’d sacrificed and held herself together. You watched her scrape together everything you had, keeping a brave face for your sake even when the weight of it all clearly pressed down on her. She made it through, but not without that look of fatigue that never seemed to leave her eyes.

So you understood, maybe better than most, that life wasn’t likely to hand you anything easy — and that the only way to get what you wanted was to reach for it. Maybe that’s why you found yourself here now, doing what you needed to do to get by, even if it meant letting someone else take care of you for once.

But then you met Melissa Schemmenti, and everything you thought you understood got turned upside down. And most importantly, your life changed in ways that you never imagined it would.

The first time you’d first spotted her, you weren’t even focused on choosing her as a target.

It was a rainy Friday night when you first saw the mysterious fiery redhead— sitting alone at the bar in a rich neighborhood in Philadelphia. She was sipping on a whiskey neat, her sharp features softened in the dark light, the flicker of the warm candles in the background making her sharp green eyes gleam in a way that almost took your breath away. It wasn’t her beauty that struck you, though. It was the way she seemed untouchable, confident in her own skin, like she didn’t need anyone, but still drew people in with an effortless ease.

You were just finishing a drink, waiting out the weather, when your gaze drifted back to her in the corner of the room.

She looked intense, yet somehow at ease. Her red hair, loose and wild, framed a striking face: strong cheekbones, sharp nose, and expressive green eyes that had a way of flicking around the room, as if daring anyone to get in her way. And yet, there was a warmth there too — a quiet vulnerability hidden in the curve of her mouth, softer than you’d imagined someone with such a sharp, no-nonsense face would carry.

“Interesting,” you whispered to yourself after realizing that no one, not a single man or woman, dared to approach her.

You’d seen people steal glances, some lingering a bit too long, but no one made a move. It was like there was some unspoken rule, as if the invisible space around her held a warning.

It made you even more curious.

For a while, you just watched, mesmerized by the way she sipped her whiskey with a kind of measured focus, her full red lips pressing into the glass like she was enjoying every second of it. The sleeves of her fitted blazer clung to toned arms, and her fingers were adorned with rings, each one sparkling softly in the light. Melissa’s neck was full of golden necklaces. That you assumed it had a Catholic meaning due to her small cross. Her frame was strong, curvy in all the best ways, carrying herself like someone who knew exactly who she was.

She looked like she didn’t need anything from anyone. But there was something in her gaze that suggested she’d be open to the right offer.

“Why isn’t anyone going up to her?” you scoffed, shaking your head and getting up from your seat. Unable to hide your intrigue. “I mean, she’s… well, she’s gorgeous.”

You’d barely taken a few steps toward the bar when Fran, the bartender leaned over, giving you a look that was somewhere between concerned and amused. She was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a motherly vibe, the kind of person who seemed to know everyone’s business — especially when it came to her regulars.

“You sure about that one, sweet face?” she asked, nodding her head toward Melissa, who was still nursing her drink in the corner. And had ordered a lemon margarita.

You glanced back at the stranger, then back at Fran, frowning slightly in confusion. “What do you mean, Francis?”

The woman chuckled, wiping down the counter with a practiced hand. “Schemmenti doesn’t exactly do things halfway. People say she’s got a temper like a firecracker and a heart just as tough. You’d be surprised at how fast things get messy with her.” She paused, giving you a pointed look. “Not to mention, she doesn’t have the patience for games.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And why’s that?”

Fran shrugged, but her gaze softened a little. “She’s been through some things, that’s all. Divorces and family issues. Got her walls up pretty high. Not just anyone makes it past them. If you’re thinking of walking up to her, just… be ready for whatever comes with it. She doesn’t like anyone wasting her time.”

You felt a spark of excitement mingle with the nerves, and your frown shifted into something closer to a smile. “Well,” you said slowly. “I guess I like a challenge.”

The middle aged woman shook her head, a knowing smirk on her face. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

But despite the warning, you couldn’t shake the pull you felt. If anything, it only made you more determined.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

With that, you picked up your drink and walked over to her, ignoring Fran’s amused shake of the head as she muttered. “Good luck, kid.”

Alright, here goes nothing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you as you made your way toward her. The atmosphere in the bar seemed to quiet, the soft murmur of conversations fading into the background. Every step felt deliberate, calculated — but your heart was racing nonetheless.

Sliding into the seat next to her, you gave her a bold smile, one you hoped was as confident as she looked. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Melissa didn’t even glance your way. She lifted her glass, taking a slow sip, her gaze still focused across the bar, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. She looked composed and relaxed, her red waves falling around her shoulders, but there was an edge to her silence that made it clear she wasn’t the type to entertain small talk with strangers.

Still, you weren’t one to back down easily. You leaned in just a touch, close enough to catch a faint hint of her perfume. Something dark and warm, with notes of amber.

“So… is there a reason you’re quiet and alone, or do you just enjoy intimidating everyone who looks your way?”

At that, she finally turned to look at you, her gaze sharp and assessing. Those green eyes bore into you, sizing you up without an ounce of pretense. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of curiosity there — maybe even a hint of amusement, though she hid it well.

“You know, it would be inelegant for a pretty lady like you to refuse a drink offer like that.”

That earned you the slightest shift, a flicker of her eyes cutting in your direction. But just as quickly, she looked away once more, taking another deliberate sip from her glass, pointedly ignoring you.

Alright, she was tough. But you’d expected that.

Clearing up your throat, you tried again. “Can I buy you a drink?”

For a moment, Melissa barely looked at you again, her attention fixed on her drink, her elegant fingers tracing the rim of her glass. Then, slowly, she turned those sharp eyes your way, raising a single eyebrow in skepticism. “You think I can’t buy my own drink, sweetheart?”

Caught a little off guard, you chuckled, brushing off her cold response. “Oh, I’m sure you could buy out the whole bar if you wanted. Just thought you might enjoy a little company."

The corner of her mouth quivered in a faint, almost amused smile, though her expression remained guarded. “Is that so? Are you always this forward with strangers, or am I that special?”

You met her gaze, refusing to back down, though you felt the intensity of her stare like a challenge. “I could ask you the same thing. I doubt I’m the first person who’s tried their luck tonight.”

That actually made her laugh — a low, genuine sound that surprised you with its warmth. She finally looked at you fully, leaning back just a bit, her eyes still sharp but now a little more intrigued. “Plenty try. Few get this far,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, studying you over the rim of her glass.

“Guess I’m lucky then,” you replied, matching her gaze. “Or maybe you’re just curious.”

She looked you up and down, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. “What’s your name, doll?”

“Y/N.“ You introduced yourself, feeling the thrill of her attention settling fully on you.

She offered a hand, her grip firm, fingers warm and soft against your skin. “Melissa,” she said simply, with a smirk that told you she already knew her name alone carried weight.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too, hon,” she replied softly, almost too sweetly.

The air between you felt different now, charged, as though something had shifted. You couldn’t quite place it, but you knew one thing: she was far more than the icy exterior she wore.

“So,” you started firmly, eager to keep the conversation flowing. “What brings someone like you to a place like this?”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a knowing smile. “You really want to know?” she asked, her voice dropping slightly, the undertone suddenly sharper, almost dangerous.

You nodded, sensing you were getting somewhere.

“Maybe I just enjoy the quiet,” she said, her gaze sliding over to the rest of the bar, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “Or maybe I like the kind of people who think they can handle me. You know, the ones who think they can get past the walls.”

There it was. That wall. You hadn’t been wrong about it earlier.

You leaned a little closer, the space between you diminishing. “Well, I like a good challenge,” you said, tone lowering slightly as you met her eyes. “And I don’t back down easily.”

The older woman studied you for a long moment, her lips pressing together in contemplation. There was something unspoken in the way she looked at you, like she was trying to figure out if you were just another curiosity or something more.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the space between the two of you suddenly too much. It was as if you were both waiting for the other to make the next move.

Finally, she spoke again, but this time, her voice was quieter, more intimate. “Is that so? Well, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Without another word, she stood, surprising you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but follow her gaze as she turned her attention to the bartender.

“I’m leaving for now,” she said, her tone dismissive but with a hint of warmth beneath it. “But if you want to keep up, sweetheart, you’ll have to be quicker than that.”

Before you could respond, Melissa leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek — quick, but there was something sensual about the way her lips lingered for just a second longer than you’d expected.

“Melissa? What are you doing?” you prompted nervously. Your body language gave away how much desperate you were.

Her breath brushed against your ear as she whispered. “You better be ready for more than you bargained for.”

And just like that, Melissa Schemmenti was gone, but not before she slid a sleek business card across the counter toward you. “Call me if you think you can be a good girl and handle it,” she said, her eyes meeting yours one last time, a smirk on her lips.

The card was heavy in your hand as you stared at it, wondering what the hell you had just gotten yourself into. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the shivers racing through you.

Before you could process it all, the bartender's voice cut through the moment, the amusement clear in her tone. “Looks like someone’s in for the ride of their life.”

You didn’t even respond, your focus still entirely on the card in your hand. that redheaded woman had left you breathless, but there was no denying it — you were already hooked.

After Melissa left, you spent the rest of the night at the bar, her business card tucked safely in your pocket, your mind racing. Who was Melissa Schemmenti? That name. “Schemmenti,” lingered, something about it sparking a vague sense of familiarity. It didn’t take long for curiosity to win over. The moment you got home, you grabbed your phone and typed her name into the search bar.

Almost immediately, a series of results popped up — news articles, restaurant reviews, family business profiles. The Schemmentis were, without a doubt, a well-known name in the city. They were a prominent Italian family with a long history of running high-end, family-owned restaurants and food businesses. Each article seemed to mention the family's deeply rooted traditions, their reputation for intense loyalty, and an unyielding commitment to quality that set their establishments apart.

There were photos of various family members attending restaurant openings and charity events. Most of them shared that same unmistakable look: sharp features, intense eyes, a confidence that seemed to radiate through the screen. But none of them held the same aura she had. You kept scrolling, searching, until finally, a photo caught your eye — a candid shot of Melissa herself, standing beside what looked like an older family member at an event. She was dressed elegantly, her green eyes striking even in the low-quality photo. Her signature smirk was there, too, as if she knew more than anyone else around her.

Digging a little deeper, you found hints that the Schemmentis weren’t just known for their restaurants. Whispers and rumors hinted at connections beyond the culinary world. It was all speculation, of course, nothing concrete — but there was talk of ties to old-school family loyalty, the kind that ran a bit deeper than the surface.

You couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for Melissa. She had a presence that felt untouchable, like she existed in a world all her own, one you’d barely scratched the surface of. Still, that made her even more intriguing.

Scrolling through more photos, you spotted one of her in front of the family’s flagship restaurant, a chic Italian bistro that was famous across the city. It looked upscale, all dark wood and gold accents, the kind of place you’d need a reservation months in advance for. The family had a reputation for authenticity, keeping recipes as close to the homeland as possible — a fact that seemed to add to the almost mythical image they cultivated in the food scene.

“Crap,” you sighed softly. “She’s more powerful than I thought.”

You leaned back in your chair, your mind spinning with the informations. Melissa was far more than just the striking woman you’d met at the bar. She was a part of this powerful, well-established family, one that had its hands in nearly every major social event and high-profile gathering in Philadelphia. The more you thought about it, the more you realized just how far removed you were from her world. But that only made you want her more.

You found another link, this one detailing a series of more extravagant gala events the. Subtle shots of Melissa made their way into the article — always in the background, always looking stunning, but always with that same cool, untouchable demeanor. The more you saw, the more you wanted to know.

A part of you wondered if you were getting in way over your head. But the other part — the part that was curious, that wanted to know everything about her — pushed those thoughts aside.

You glanced back at the card, and something in the back of your mind clicked. The business card. It wasn’t just a way to contact her. It was a way into her world. It was a ticket, maybe, to something bigger than you’d ever imagined. If you were going to do this, to pursue whatever this was between you two, you’d have to play it smart. You’d have to prove you were more than just another curious young woman.

With a deep breath, you typed in the number on the card. Your thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, then pressed it. Your heart beat faster than usual. This could be the start of something dangerous, something intoxicating. Or it could fizzle out, like so many other fleeting moments.

But you didn’t think it would. Not with her.

You took a breath, steeling your nerves as you composed the message. It took you a few drafts to strike the right tone, something that wouldn’t come off too eager but still got the point across. Finally, you sent a simple, Hey, it’s me from the bar. Would love to see you again if you’re interested.

A few seconds passed. Then a minute. You began to wonder if you’d misread everything and were ready to chalk it up to a learning experience when your phone buzzed, and her name — “Melissa Schemmenti” — appeared on your screen.

Thought you would never reach. Meet me tomorrow. At seven. La Sirena. Ask for a table under ‘Schemmenti.’ Don’t be late, sweetheart.

Shit.

La Sirena was a well-known Italian restaurant. Upscale, expensive, and not the kind of place you could typically afford. Just seeing her name there made your stomach flutter, excitement mingling with nerves. You quickly typed back an “I’ll be there” and spent the rest of the evening thinking about what you’d wear, what you’d say, and how you’d keep your composure.

On Saturday evening, you arrived at La Sirena early. You wore the nicest outfit you could put together, something classic and understated, hoping it would hold up to the restaurant's sophisticated atmosphere. Walking into the lavish space, you felt a bit out of place, but you kept your head high as you approached the host and asked for the Schemmenti reservation.

“Right this way,” he said with a polite smile, leading you to a private table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Melissa was already seated, her gaze locked on the menu. When she looked up at you, a slow smile spread across her lips, and you couldn’t help but notice how stunning she looked, her red hair cascading over her shoulders, accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones and the piercing green of her eyes.

“You made it,” she said, almost surprised as she gestured for you to sit. “And on time, too. I like that.”

You settled into your seat, feeling her eyes on you as you tried to calm your racing heart. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” you replied, offering her a face that you hoped masked the mix of awe and nerves.

The redhead frowned, setting her menu down to focus fully on you. “So, tell me, what exactly are you looking for? A young woman doesn’t approach me in a bar without a reason.”

Her directness caught you by suprise, but you appreciated it. Taking a breath, you decided to be just as straightforward. “Honestly? I need some support. Financially,” you admitted, your face softening. “My job barely covers my bills, and… well, I could use a hand.”

Melissa’s expression didn’t change, though her eyes lingered on you for a moment, weighing your words. She leaned back, crossing her legs, her gaze assessing. “And in return, you’d be… what? At my beck and call? Or are you looking for something more traditional?” Her voice was low, almost teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness there.

You swallowed, feeling the intensity of her words. “I’m open to whatever you’re looking for. I want to be someone you enjoy spending time with, whatever that might look like.”

Her smile widened slightly, a glint of amusement flashing in her eyes. “I don’t do traditional. But I do like arrangements that benefit both parties.” She reached for her glass, taking a slow sip as she considered you. “Here’s what I want: someone who can hold a conversation, someone who knows when to keep things discreet. I don’t need drama, and I don’t need clinginess. Think you can handle that?”

You nodded, your own excitement growing at the proposition. “I can handle that. I’m not looking to complicate things — just to be here when you want me.”

She seemed pleased by your answer, nodding slightly. “Good. Then I think we understand each other.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “And let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. If I want to spoil you, you’ll let me. No protesting. Understood?”

A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of her presence making you feel bolder. “Understood, ma’am.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Green eyes softened for a moment, her gaze dropping to your lips. And before you could process what was happening, she leaned across the table, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her lips were soft, her touch featherlight yet intoxicating.

When she pulled back, her voice dropped to a whisper, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “Then it’s a deal.”

Your pulse raced as she sat back, casually reaching into her black purse to pull out an envelope. She slid it across the table toward you, her fingers grazing yours as she did.

“Just a little something to get you started,” she murmured, with a wink that was both playful and possessive. “It has a sum of five thousand dollars inside. It should help you for now, every week I can send you more. If you keep your promise.”

You took the envelope, feeling the weight of it in your hands. The gesture was more than generous, but it was the way she looked at you — with that blend of intensity and control — that made you realize what you were truly getting into. And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe, secure, and undeniably captivated.

As the evening unfolded, you couldn't help but feel the weight of what was happening. There was a sense of excitement, of possibility — but also a sharp, nagging thought that reminded you to tread carefully.

Don’t confuse things.

You couldn’t afford to get attached.

That was the key. This was supposed to be a simple arrangement, something that filled the gaps where your paycheck fell short. You weren't looking for something complicated, something emotional. Not with her. Not with someone like Melissa, who had power, elegance, and control in everything she did. She could snap her fingers, and people would fall in line. She was the kind of woman who played the game and always won.

You knew how this worked — a sugar baby and a sugar mommy. It was transactional, not romantic. You could enjoy the new life, yes, but you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in the emotions. You couldn't fall for her. You couldn’t let yourself start imagining more than what this was.

As the conversation carried on, Melissa’s wicked smirk never faltered, her focus entirely on you as she made her offers and requests while learning more about you. But underneath it all, you kept reminding yourself: No fucking attachments. You couldn’t afford them.

But even as you made that mental note, as you stared at her with those smoldering green eyes and that effortless poise, you felt something shift inside. A part of you that couldn’t quite ignore the magnetic pull she had over you, the allure that was impossible to escape.

Still, you had to stay grounded. This was just a business arrangement. Nothing more, right?

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part4

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning abortion, daddy issues, mentioning violence, kind of depression

previous - next

You missed feeling relaxed. You missed that brief period without all the stress packed into these last two weeks. Actually, it wasn’t just these two weeks. Ever since you noticed the symptoms, a constant worry had settled inside you.

What would Rafe say, what would your family say, how would they react—would they even want this?

Now, at least you knew what they felt. You knew they didn’t want this, that they were trying to convince you to end it. But the worry hadn’t gone away, not for a second. It clung to you like it knew your weakest spot, pressing down on it relentlessly.

Looking at the big picture, you didn’t really have anything left to fear. The people who needed to know had found out. Even though their reactions were awful, now you knew, and you’d have to carry on knowing it.

And that was what truly scared you.

You were starting to feel anxious about the future. Bringing a child into the world without anyone by your side would be incredibly tough, and you were sure of that. You were basically broke, with no support from your family.

Entering a dark, unknown path without any light ahead was terrifying.

This wasn’t how you wanted things to turn out.

“You’re quiet.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you were walking with your gaze on the ground. If he hadn’t spoken, you might not even have been aware of the state you were in. At the sound of his voice, you lifted your head and looked at his face. He was smiling at you, just like always.

His smile didn’t seem very sincere—it was almost infuriating. And you could tell he was doing it on purpose. He seemed to enjoy messing with you, and you hated it. The way he talked to you, as if you were some alien who just didn’t get it, made your blood boil. It was like he was observing you the way someone would watch a caged animal.

When it became clear you weren’t going to answer, JJ chuckled and turned his gaze forward. The sky was nearly dark, and the air was beginning to chill.

To be fair, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you weren’t exactly on a pleasant path. The evening was closing in, and the road had grown desolate. But he knew this walk would be worth it.

You were behind him, but JJ made a point of staying close to you. Not because he wanted to be near you, really—he just wanted to make sure you were ready for anything. Simply put, though he’d never admit it, he didn’t want you to miss out on this. He’d never say it, but these weren’t the safest paths to be on.

Hearing you sigh in frustration behind him, JJ rolled his eyes. Your impatience was practically a signature trait, especially for a Kook like you. “Not a fan of hiking, huh?” JJ’s teasing was obvious, and you disliked his tone. Just a bit.

“This isn’t hiking,” you muttered, trying to scrape mud off your shoe. You could swear you were in the most godforsaken corner of the world. "This—this feels more like a death march. Tell me there’s something good at the end of this, or else—”

JJ couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, he thought your silent moments were his favorites, but hearing you complain actually amused him in its own way. Whatever happened, you’d keep following him like a little lost puppy. He cut you off before you could go on. “We’re almost there.”

When your complaints subsided, he found himself smiling involuntarily. He was absolutely certain you’d hate every bit of this, but for now, you were stuck here with him. You didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Sure, he did—he could go to John B’s place, and he would eventually.

It just didn’t sit right with him to leave you on your own. He hadn’t been raised with high standards, but—he was still the kind of guy who wouldn’t leave a girl alone at night.

And since he definitely wasn’t taking you to John B’s house—he was sure you’d say no—the only option left was his own style of a safe, quiet spot. At least you wouldn’t stand out around the Pogues, and you’d get some peace and quiet.

To say he was doing it entirely for you would’ve been a big lie. He needed some time, too. He wasn’t ready to show up at John B’s place, explain everything, and face them in this state. JJ didn’t want to feel their silent pity, even if they didn’t say it out loud.

You wouldn’t ask, he was sure of that—or at least he hoped. And even if you did, it wouldn’t stick in your memory for long. To you, JJ was just some random person, and to him, you were the same. Your lives didn’t really intersect in any meaningful way.

JJ pushed some branches and shrubs aside to clear a path for you, and you followed close behind. This hike was becoming increasingly strange from your perspective.

As the sky darkened and you nearly found yourself in the forest, JJ took out his phone and turned on its flashlight. You rummaged through your pockets, intending to do the same, when you remembered storming out of the house in such a hurry. Honestly, you were lucky you’d even put on shoes because you’d left everything—literally everything—behind. Wallet, phone, cash, hair tie, body spray, everything was still at home. You were truly penniless.

JJ jumped down from a ledge and extended his hand to you. The realization that you’d left everything behind had hit you hard, but you pushed aside the frustration and focused on the path.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and tested the ground with your foot. It was pure mud. “Come on.” JJ extended his hand a bit further. You hesitated, but something in you trusted he’d catch you. Even though JJ was unreliable in general, you believed he wouldn’t let you fall. Just as you trusted he’d keep your pregnancy a secret.

He could be obnoxious, foolish, and infuriating—but he wasn’t a bad person.

As soon as you jumped down and took his hand, JJ quickly leaned forward and caught you by the back to keep you steady. Your foot slipped on the mud, but his grip kept you safe from harm.

“You okay?” he asked. Once he was sure you were steady, he slowly let go of your back and hand, bending down to pick up his backpack. You gave him a quick nod, and he looked at you, nodding back and gesturing at the trail.

Even though he’d held onto you and kept you from falling, you were still frustrated at the path he’d chosen. “I already hate this,” you said, and JJ immediately started laughing. The fact that your irritation amused him made you somehow even more annoyed.

You crossed your arms and took a deep breath, tempted to fire back a few words. You just wanted to get under his skin, to rile him up as much as he seemed to enjoy riling you. But it felt impossible. No matter what you said, he just found it funny, like he was looking for any chance to mess with you. Was it your tone, the way you phrased things, or were you just naturally the kind of person he could laugh at? You couldn’t tell, and it only irritated you more.

But then, as you looked over at him, you realized—it was none of those things.

He was genuinely laughing. His dimples appeared. There was no mocking glance, no condescending smirk. He was actually amused. It was like he found you funny, not in a mean way, just… funny.

Just two seconds after you looked at him, JJ turned back with a wide grin—nearly every tooth on display. “Told you you’d hate this,” he chuckled, his voice shaky from laughter, as if still savoring his victory.

He had indeed told you, and he’d meant it. He wasn’t saying it just to annoy you; he genuinely knew you wouldn’t like this. Not that it mattered much. You weren’t alone, after all.

The anger simmering within you slowly began to melt, and for a second, you even wanted to smile back at him. After a brief exchange of glances, you both looked away, but a faint smirk remained on his face.

When JJ sped up a little and moved ahead, you opted to stay behind him. He paused just enough with each branch he brushed aside to make sure you could follow, eventually taking a deep breath as he passed through. “Home sweet home,” he declared, as though this place were actually his.

By the time you both finally made it through the branches and bushes, you were covered in scratches. You swore you’d kill JJ. No blood, but plenty of pain. As he flashed his phone’s light around, you rubbed your sore arm and looked at the scene around you.

Wonderful.

An abandoned dock. Was this his idea of a “nice place”? You figured you had about 15 minutes before the bugs and snakes launched an all-out assault. “I’m not staying here.” you announced firmly, crossing your arms. JJ turned to you with a smile.

Did he ever stop smiling? He nodded as if he agreed, surprising you. You almost thought he was crazy. You’d followed a madman all the way out here. Great decision.

“Same.” he replied, that knowing tone in his voice. Before you could step back, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along, heading toward the edge of the dock. For a second—a single second—you thought he might push you into the river, but he didn’t.

It was too dark to make out everything around you, but as JJ's phone light lit up the surroundings, you saw it. Slowly, the scene became clear. Was that... a boat?

Did JJ get a boat?

Impossible.

“What are we doing right now?” you asked, pulling your wrist back as he crouched down to untie the boat. His phone light didn’t quite reach, so he handed it to you, gesturing for you to shine it on his hands. You did as he asked, though you watched him warily. What was he even doing?

He had to be nuts.

“Is this... your boat?” you asked, as he stood and stretched out a hand to help you aboard. JJ shook his head, still grinning.

Wait a minute... the boat wasn’t JJ’s. It wasn’t yours either. So—

“Are you stealing this boat?!” you blurted out, unable to hide the horror in your voice. JJ rolled his eyes, extending his hand again as he shook his head. He thought you were being dramatic. This wasn’t stealing.

“We’re not stealing it. We—remember? We’re in this together,” he said, his tone playful. You immediately shook your head, taking a step back, but JJ quickly placed a foot on the dock to steady the boat and grabbed your hand before you could retreat any further. “We’re absolutely not in this together. You dragged me out here on some unknown path, and now you’re stealing a boat—”

JJ couldn’t take your ranting anymore. Without a second thought, he tightened his grip and pulled you onto the boat. The world was pitch black out here, and even if you tried to turn back, you’d get lost. He just hoped you wouldn’t be foolish enough to attempt it.

Once you were on board, JJ stood in front of you, so close that you were nearly nose to nose. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you by the back, speaking before you could protest further.

“We’re not stealing. We. Got it? We’re just borrowing it, and we’ll bring it back by morning. And if anyone asks, there’s only one thing you need to remember,” he said, his tone casual, yet with a hint of amusement.

As you stared at him, you noticed how close he really was. Your hand rested on his shoulder, and one of his hands was on your arm, the other somewhere between your back and waist. Silently, you waited, wondering what he’d say next. JJ smirked, clearly enjoying your curiosity.

“Deny, deny, deny... You tripped, fell into the boat, and it just happened to drift off on its own. And unfortunately—” he continued, pulling his hands back from you as he spoke. You were so focused on him that you barely noticed his movements. Fixated, you watched him start up the boat as though he’d done it a hundred times.

“We’re just two clueless kids who don’t know how to steer, and the boat just started moving,” he said, a grin still on his face. He turned to make sure you had something to hold onto before he started the engine.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed silent, just that you hadn’t drifted too far. Sitting beside him, you enjoyed the cool breeze—until it started to chill you to the bone.

You didn’t know where you eventually stopped, but JJ clearly did. You followed his lead, keeping quiet.

Now, both of you were lying quietly at the back of the boat. JJ’s phone lay face down, its flashlight casting a soft glow. You both seemed to enjoy the silence.

You were an idiot. You hadn’t planned anything for tonight, and now, like a fool, you hadn’t even brought anything warm. A T-shirt and red shorts, no jacket. You started to feel the night chill, hoping you wouldn’t catch a cold. You didn’t have the energy for that right now.

JJ noticed. He knew if he handed you one of the blankets from under the seats, you’d wrinkle your nose at it, just like he would. So, instead, he took out his sweatshirt from his bag, took a deep breath, and handed it to you.

He waited for you to refuse, to say you didn’t need it, but you surprised him. You looked at the sweatshirt for a moment, then took it from him without a word, slipping it on quickly.

The slight movement caused JJ’s phone to slide, leaving his face illuminated by the flashlight. His hair, tousled by the wind, fell slightly to one side.

Your gaze lingered on his eyes, but something distracted you—a bruise you hadn’t noticed before. Probably hidden by his hair until now.

JJ realized you’d noticed. Instinctively, he ran a hand through his hair, rearranging it to cover the bruise. He knew exactly what he was doing, turning his head slightly.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was fresh. The bruises you’d seen two weeks ago had already faded. This one was definitely new.

JJ saw you looking. He shifted uncomfortably, yet he knew you were still watching him out of the corner of your eye. “What?” he asked with a smile, though it was different from the smiles you’d seen earlier. It just sat there, plastered on his face, almost lifeless. “Did you like what you saw?”

He expected you to look away, maybe even sigh in annoyance or give him a frustrated glare. But you didn’t. You just looked at him, knowing full well that something was wrong. And he knew you knew it, too.

“What happened?” you asked quietly. The words left your mouth almost as light as a feather. But JJ, listening intently, caught every word.

His smile turned bitter as he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to tell you, but things might change, given that you already knew his most guarded secret.

You were each other’s opposite. You were a Kook; you didn’t deal with Pogues. JJ was a Pogue; he didn’t associate with Kooks. You’d barely spoken to anyone from that crowd. Not that you didn’t want to—it just hadn’t interested you.

And yet, here you were with JJ. You weren’t trapped; you’d chosen to follow him willingly. He’d led you to this deserted, uncomfortable place, but it was relaxing. Sure, you’d hated it at first, but now you were starting to like it here.

This was one of those moments you’d never have predicted, not even if someone had told you about it hours earlier. What could you possibly want with a Pogue?

“Did I ever ask you about how that fight went?” JJ’s tone was cold, harsher than he intended. He wasn’t looking to bite back. He didn’t even know why he was saying it, only that he regretted it when he saw your expression fall.

You’d both come out here to get some peace—not to ask questions.

But instead, you withdrew, mumbling a soft, dry, “Sorry.” You drew your legs up, crossing your arms to brace against the chill. There was nothing to see in the darkness around you. Nothing but darkness itself.

JJ hadn’t expected this reaction. For a moment, he’d forgotten how rough your day had been. He’d anticipated a biting remark, even a small argument. But you remained silent, as if you hadn’t asked at all.

Maybe, JJ thought. Maybe you weren’t as stuck-up and unbreakable as he’d thought.

He hadn’t intended to add to your sadness. It was just that he felt his space being invaded. But he already regretted not biting his tongue. He could’ve said nothing at all, but now, it was too late.

You felt like you were meddling, like you were sticking your nose into someone else’s business. And maybe you were. But today, without knowing what had happened, he had helped you. There was no need to ask him anything; whether he chose to open up or not was up to him. Pressuring him for an answer had just happened in a brief, unintended moment.

JJ straightened up and moved his phone's flashlight aside, taking a deep breath. "My dad," he muttered. He hadn't planned on telling you. He hadn't even shared this with his friends. But then again, you'd also told him things no one else knew about you.

JJ trusted that you wouldn’t tell anyone. After all, who cares about someone else's daddy issues?

Your eyes turned back to JJ as he spoke. Feeling your gaze, he nervously ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t intend to tell you everything—just the basics. It was hard for him to explain.

You listened intently, and after his response, you thought he might stay silent for the rest of the night. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stayed completely closed off. But barely a minute later, he began speaking again.

On a good day, you might have jokingly called him bipolar. But neither of you was having a good day.

"Long story short, he has a drinking problem. We don’t get along too well," JJ continued, struggling to articulate his thoughts. Besides his friends, he’d never opened up to anyone. His friends were his family, his only family.

JJ shifted slightly, watching as you leaned in a bit closer. You stood facing each other, and he avoided looking directly at you, worried that he might see pity or sympathy in your expression. If he saw even a trace of it, he thought he might just jump off the boat and into the river.

But when he looked up and met your gaze, he found none of that. You were simply looking at him with understanding. Your eyebrows weren’t raised, and there was no pity in your eyes—just empathy.

Nobody deserves to have terrible parents, no matter where they come from. It just wasn’t fair.

"Sometimes… things like this happen. But I'm used to it, Princess. No need to feel sorry for me. I’m still as handsome as ever." He extended his leg to nudge your own, a grin appearing on his face. It would’ve taken a fool not to see that his smile was a mask. He was trying to hide his pain behind a playful facade.

You decided not to call him out. Smiling in the same way, you pushed your legs away and gently nudged his back.

It felt like an unspoken promise had passed between you. You wouldn’t mention this to anyone. It seemed important to him. Even if he thought no one would care, you knew it mattered.

"Yeah," you teased, recognizing he was trying to change the subject. "I’m sure Pogue girls will be lining up for you either way." He threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple prominent as he tilted his head off the side of the boat.

As you laughed with him, you felt, for maybe the first time today, a craving for something normal. It felt good to share a moment with someone who wouldn’t judge you. The same was true for JJ. You both exchanged secrets and now carried each other’s burdens. If one of you fell, so would the other.

But you couldn't help but wonder. Had his father caused the scars you saw when you first met, or had he really been in a fight? You weren’t bold enough to ask. Respecting the boundary he’d set, you didn’t make any comments.

"Actually, you’re funny," JJ remarked with a grin. Of course, you were funny—you just didn’t show it to people who didn’t matter. Why would you?

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, and JJ continued smiling. He’d always thought you were serious, not because he was always thinking about you, but because he’d never seen this side of you.

But now he knew better.

While JJ watched you, you didn’t look back. You hadn’t even noticed him observing you. With your arms crossed, you took deep breaths, savoring the fresh air, trying to unwind, and, in this moment, you finally relaxed.

Despite JJ’s presence, you felt detached from all the day’s stress. If you could, you would erase today from your mind entirely. But you couldn’t, and you felt deeply exhausted. As you thought of tomorrow, you couldn’t help but wonder. Soon, you’d leave JJ, the boat, and this river behind. Where would you go? You had nowhere to go except home, and you didn’t know if they’d continue being mad at you. A sigh escaped you, and you felt a nudge on your leg.

JJ was looking at you intently, with a slight grin as if he knew something you didn’t. "Stay in the moment," he said as if reading your mind. He tilted his head back, looking around and taking a deep breath. "We’re in a place no one can find us. Whatever it is you’re worried about—deal with it tomorrow. Let them wonder what you’re up to. Why should you be the one feeling bad?"

In a million years, you wouldn’t have thought you’d take advice from him. But what you couldn’t believe even more was that you actually wanted to follow it. He was right, and you wanted to hold onto his words.

He was right.

Let them think whatever they wanted. You were going to be fine. You’d figure things out. You just needed a little time—not much.

You and the baby.

The thought made you smile.

You nodded, glancing at JJ. Even an idiot could say something wise once in a while. Like a broken clock being right twice a day.

"I’ll stay in the moment," you said, agreeing with him. Your smile grew, and it was as if JJ had been waiting for this. He exhaled and clapped his hands. "Finally!" he shouted, startling you as he moved closer.

In that moment, a realization hit you: JJ Maybank made you feel better. He’d lifted the sorrow from your body, just with his words—the words you needed to hear.

Not Rafe, not your family. You didn’t want to remember their words. JJ’s words were enough.

JJ broke eye contact, still smiling, and picked up his phone. “Shit…” he muttered. You wanted to ask what was wrong, curious, so you leaned forward, realizing his phone battery was running low.

“Your phone—” JJ began but stopped, remembering you looked like a runaway with no phone on you. Of course, you’d left it at home. “Oh, great,” he mumbled to himself.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" he asked. You shook your head in response, even though, well… you might’ve been a bit scared. But you were on a boat with someone, so it didn’t really bother you.

JJ ruffled his hair and looked at you. "If we’re going to sit in the dark, I need a verbal answer. I can’t see you shaking your head.”

Just when you thought you’d found a way to get along with him, he managed to ruin it. He was driving you insane.

“Yes! Are you happy now?” JJ rolled his eyes and, adjusting his position, turned off the flashlight.

Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, but you could feel him sitting beside you, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. “More than happy,” he replied. You turned your head the other way, not wanting to look in his direction, even if you couldn’t see him. You sensed he was smiling from the tone of his voice. He enjoyed this—teasing you.

Even if he couldn’t see it, he knew he was getting under your skin, and it pleased him. Although he could’ve found other ways to connect with you, this playful sparring felt right to him. Besides, your reactions amused him.

"Pouting, are we?" JJ teased. He liked the quiet and the dark. Even if he couldn’t see you, he still felt your presence, your shoulder barely brushing against his.

“Not at all,” you replied, making JJ chuckle. He couldn’t help but enjoy every minute he spent with you. Your way of responding to him was entertaining, but deep down, he knew—you enjoyed this back-and-forth too.

You didn’t like the darkness. You weren’t scared, but you didn’t love it. JJ, right now, was your distraction. You’d been watching him or the boat to keep your mind off things, but since the flashlight had turned off, the heaviness inside you began creeping back. You couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed, and all you could think about was the day’s events.

Absentmindedly, your hand drifted to your stomach, as if feeling it might help you make the right choice. But the feeling you’d expected didn’t come. You felt nothing at all.

What am I gonna do?

Fears were starting to creep in. You didn't know if they'd be there for you if you went through with this, but you hoped you could overcome it. You were strong, ambitious, and capable of handling things on your own. If, of course, you wanted to. But did you even want it? Were you ready to bring a child into this world at twenty?

"Listen to yourself," JJ’s voice startled you. You turned to him, unsure of what he meant, and a small murmur slipped from his lips. Was he reading your mind?

"You asked what you’re going to do. Listen to yourself. Your body, your choice." JJ’s voice was close. You had turned to his side and didn’t expect to be this near. His breath was almost brushing your face.

"Rafe doesn’t want it," you said without thinking. Again. Yet you couldn't help but see JJ as a sort of mentor. He wasn’t on anyone’s side. He was an independent observer. "What would you do? If you were pregnant?"

At that, JJ’s laughter echoed through the woods. It was so loud that it made you jump a little, and you sensed him holding his stomach—not for the same reason, of course, but it looked like he was almost cringing. Not exactly an appropriate question, but—he needed to understand. Without meaning to, despite the difficult situation, you smiled. Laugh really was infectious.

"First off," he began, still chuckling, "Who the hell is Rafe to ask me to get an abortion? Second, fuck his opinions. He can shove it right back where it came from. And third—and this is the last point—as long as I want it, no one can make me do anything I don’t want to do." You didn’t usually like swearing, but coming from him, it was funny. You hadn't expected those answers, but then again, you’d thrown him a question out of the blue. It was fair.

"Besides, sorry, beauty, but I can’t get pregnant." You couldn’t help thinking how clueless some guys were sometimes. You’d meant what would he do if he were in your shoes. Of course, you knew he couldn’t get pregnant. You weren’t that dumb.

But JJ wasn’t dumb either. He just liked to mess with you.

No one could tell you what to do. You were the one carrying this baby. Abortion was your choice, and so was giving birth. You’d decide. Tonight, you’d know what you wanted. You might stumble at first, you might be afraid, but you’d make your choice.

It had been a long day. As the beginning of a headache began to make itself known, you leaned into the touch of JJ’s shoulder. Your lips parted, but only air came out instead of words.

You appreciated his words. Though you were two completely different people, from opposite sides, he’d supported you. He’d brought you back to yourself. Neither of you would call this helping, but it was. JJ had been there for you when no one else was.

So, without thinking, you said, "Thank you." And you meant it. You didn’t mutter it, nor did you look away. If there’d been light between you, you’d have looked right into his eyes.

JJ wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t even know what to say, but he took a deep breath. When you leaned into him, he leaned back. Now, your shoulders were fully touching. He didn’t know if he’d do this with the lights on, but the lights were off, and there was no need.

The unknown, dark path was terrifying. But it would pass. It would light up eventually—maybe with an object, maybe with a person, or perhaps even with a baby…

You couldn’t enjoy life by standing around, waiting in fear. You couldn’t let your paranoia stand in the way of living. This was your life, and you were the one in control. Your fears and anxieties were temporary; they’d go away, and in the end, you’d be left with yourself. This was your life. You had a life to live. Stay in the moment.

JJ took a deep breath. You both fell silent. There wasn’t much left to say. "Of course," he almost whispered, but you heard it completely in the stillness and quiet between you.

As your eyes slowly closed, you took deep breaths. The only scent you caught was salt and the sea.

You lay together until dawn, sprawled out in place. JJ would occasionally wake up and just lie there, only to fall back asleep, but you never stirred. It was as if you were lying on a queen’s bed.

When the sun’s rays started to creep into your eyes, JJ was the first to wake up. He moved to put the boat back in place. When he accidentally woke you, he muttered a small apology. You’d have woken up to any engine sound anyway, but he hadn’t meant to wake you. The two of you moved to the captain’s side as you tried to wake up and gather yourself. You didn’t chat much. JJ took you back to the old pier and helped you out of the boat.

After making sure there was nothing left behind, you took the water he offered without hesitation.

You muttered a few complaints about possibly getting bitten by bugs again, which JJ found amusing. A few cars passed by as you walked, and together you headed back to the beach where you’d been yesterday.

As you reached the entrance, JJ’s eyes wandered to the sea. You wondered if you should just leave him. You didn’t know what to do. To avoid making the situation more awkward, you looked away and gazed around. "Nice weather," he said, still looking around, but the ocean was his main focus.

"I have a change of clothes. Do you want to swim?" Your eyes shifted to the ocean he mentioned, your mouth opening and closing. If he wanted to see you go swimming in your underwear, he was in for a surprise. But you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he meant clothes.

Fuck it.

"Let’s go." You left him behind as you walked toward the ocean. Without hesitation, you took off your shoes and socks as JJ, trailing behind, looked at you in awe. "Come on!" you shouted. A smile played on your lips. He smiled back, then quickly followed, dropping his bag near where your shoes were and tossing his shirt on the ground. He already had swim shorts on. You didn’t.

You took off your red shorts, tossed them with the other clothes, and walked toward the water. You couldn’t go in naked, but a T-shirt would work. JJ seemed just as eager.

The coldness of the water made you both shiver the moment you stepped in. It felt like something you had to do. "If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you," you said as you waded in deeper. JJ laughed, looking at you as you both continued shivering.

"We know a lot about each other. Isn’t that sweet…” Then he shrieked when you splashed water at him. Even though you were soaked, you hadn’t yet adjusted to the water. As you splashed him back, he scrunched up his face at the feel of water on his bare skin and tried to back away.

"No! No!" JJ yelled, but you didn’t stop. As you kept drenching him, he finally dipped himself underwater, unable to handle your relentless game. Smiling mischievously, you looked around to see where he’d resurface. He was nowhere to be seen.

Then he grabbed you by the legs and pulled you down, cutting off your scream as you went under.

That mother fucker.

He’d outplayed you.

As soon as you emerged, you pushed your hair back and looked around. JJ was already in front of you, catching his breath and fixing his hair, smiling. "Didn’t like that, did you?" he asked, moving toward you, still smiling, showing his dimples. Just as you raised your hands to splash him again, he caught your wrists and pulled you close.

"I didn’t like it either."

Then, he splashed you in the face and bolted away. You didn’t feel like yourself, and JJ didn’t seem like JJ. There were no names, no titles, no telling who was from where—you just had fun. You didn’t even notice, but you felt like you had nothing to worry about anymore. You lived in the moment.

You weren’t sure what had changed within you, but it felt like everything had shifted. You didn’t know how long you’d been in the water until a few people appeared in the distance, and as the area grew busier, you and JJ left the water. He gave you another shirt. You put on your own shorts and sweatshirt. He walked with you until you got to your path home and turned to you as you were about to part.

"Not very Kook-like, but I’m sure you didn’t hate it as much as you say." No, it wasn’t Kook-like. You were sure of that. And yes, you might have hated it just a little. But you didn’t tell him that. You smiled, feeling the chill on your face from your wet hair.

After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and said, “Take care.”

He was right. What mattered was you—your choices, your life.

Nodding to acknowledge him, you started walking toward home while JJ headed off toward John B’s place. Would you have had as much fun alone? Probably not, but here you were, laughing and living a bit more freely thanks to someone you’d never expected.

As you walked through your front gate, you were startled by the people waiting outside the door: your dad, your mom, and the sheriff. There was a whole lineup of officers, as if you’d been kidnapped or something. When your eyes met your mother’s, you could see her tears and the redness from crying, which made your heart twist painfully. She rushed over and wrapped her arms around you, her hands softly rubbing your back.

You didn’t want to listen to anyone. Without saying a word to either your mom or dad, you headed straight to your room. There on your bed was your phone, and you saw that you had a few unread messages—from your mom and dad, of course. They must have stopped messaging once they realized you’d left your phone behind. Even Rafe had sent you a few texts, as well as a couple of your friends.

But you didn’t care about what Rafe had to say. It was more of the same—messages about “thinking of your best interests” and a whole lot of other nonsense. He could go straight to hell for all you cared. It was you against the world. Even if you were alone, you could handle this. You were strong, and you’d get through everything just fine. You didn’t need anyone’s support; just your own belief in yourself.

So, fuck him.

You

Keeping the baby.

seen.

[inmyheaddd]

✦ public displays of trouble affection - percy jackson x reader

summary: a boarding school au, where percy is the most annoying boy you’ve ever met, and becomes the reason you get in trouble for the first time ever. the worst part? hes not even sorry— he’s just laughing the whole time! wc: 1k

you were doing your best to stay focused, really. the museum your class was visiting was quiet apart from the low chatter of your classmates, filled with dimly lit displays of ancient artifacts and paintings that all seemed to blend together after a while. you were leaning closer to read a plaque about some old pottery when you felt the tiniest nudge against your shoulder. 

you shot percy a warning look, but he just grinned back at you, all wide-eyed innocence. you turned back to the exhibit, ignoring him, but—seconds later—another nudge.

“percy, seriously, cut it out,” you muttered, keeping your eyes forward. he only grinned wider, pretending not to hear as he nudged you again. 

you finally turned to look him in the eye, but then he spoke again. 

“that one reminds me of you,” he said, pointing to quite possibly the ugliest painting of a seal you’d ever seen.

you scoffed, nudging him back harder. “oh, you’re real funny.” in hindsight, maybe that was a little mean—he hadn’t even nudged you that hard. but this was percy, the most annoying boy in the history of ever, so you didn’t really care.

he gave you a once-over, that infuriating spark of amusement in his eyes. “oh, is that how it is?” he asked, eyebrow raised, the grin on his lips growing wider.

you crossed your arms, tilting your chin up, daring him to try anything else. “yes, it is.”

“alright, then,” he said, cocking his head to the side, and before you could react, he gave you a tiny push with both hands. it wasn’t a hard push, but you weren’t expecting it, so your arms uncrossed as you caught your balance, furrowing your brows at him.

“percy! what the hell?” you said, but you were already laughing despite yourself. 

without even thinking, you shoved him back— way harder. 

he barely stumbled though, and you were just about up to push him again when you froze at the sound of your name from behind.

your teacher stood there, a scowl set firmly on her face. “stop this foolish behavior. we are in a public space,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “you’re setting a bad example, while wearing the school uniform. is this really how you want to represent our school?”

whatever was left of your smile faded. of course the moment she turned around was when you pushed him. 

“no…” you muttered, heat creeping up your face as you heard percy snickering beside you, trying to disguise his laugh by pretending to look interested in some dinosaur bones.

“you’re usually so responsible,” she continued, looking at you with mild disappointment. “what’s gotten into you?”

you heard percy snort under his breath, and saw him cover his mouth with his hand out of the corner of your eye. you wanted to slap that smirk he was trying to hide off his face. 

how come he wasn’t the one in trouble? 

“nothing, miss,” you mumbled, shaking your head quickly. “i’m sorry.”

“alright,” she said with a sigh. “don’t let it happen again, otherwise you won’t be able to go on trips again.” it took all your energy to not groan in annoyance right then— but you ended up just nodding.

it was like percy could sense your frustration, and you could just as well sense that stupid grin on his face growing.

she finally turned away, heading off to talk to another group.

the second she was gone, percy practically doubled over, his laughter barely contained. you turned around and glared at him, fists clenched.

you never got in trouble. this wasn’t even fair! sure, you weren’t in real trouble, but you never got shouted at either.

“shut up.” you grumbled, “you’re such a pain, this is all your fault.” you stood there, arms crossed, watching as he bit his lip, still grinning.

“but, you’re usually so responsible!” he mocked your teacher and teased you all in one go, “what’s gotten into you?” 

he gave you a quick, teasing once-over. 

“it’s hard to be responsible when i have someone as annoying as you around.” you retorted, crossing your arms once again. 

“oh, so you’re saying my presence makes you act differently?” he teased, tilting his head to the side. “don’t flatter me, you’re too kind.”

“wha— no!” you scrambled for your words, which is something that usually never happens.

“that is so not what i meant, and you know it!” you exclaimed, and percy just chuckled harder, raising an eyebrow at you like he didn’t believe you, just to annoy you further. 

it was working.

you huffed, “you’re so insufferable!” he shook his head with a laugh, looking you up and down before he turned around, only laughing harder as he walked to some other classmates, and clapped one of his friends on the back. 

how come he didn’t annoy anyone else like he annoyed you? 

in the next instant with an exasperated sigh, you walked over to your friends, hoping to complain about how much of a nightmare percy was being, but they barely let you get a word in.

“oh my god, percy, stoppp!” one of them cooed, putting on an overly sweet voice as she clasped her hands in front of her. “you’re so annoying!”

another friend batted her eyelashes dramatically. “seriously, how do you put up with him? he must be the worst.”

heat rose to your cheeks. fast.

“what do you guys even mean?” you muttered. “you’re making make no sense.”

another friend snorted, “please, be so honest with yourself right now.” and then as if to prove her point, she starting nudging your other friend, reenacting what had just happened with percy.

“perrrcyyyyy,” she drawled in a voice that didn’t even sound like you, pushing your other friend dramatically, “you’re soo insufferable!”

then your friend put on a deep voice that definitely did not sound like percy. “ahahaha, don’t flatter me, push me again, i like it.” she ran a hand through her hair, narrowed her eyes bit her lip and in an attempt to ‘act like a boy’.

“guys, what?” you exclaimed with your eyes wide in horror. “that didn’t even happen! stop!”

they all just started laughing harder, “i swear, you’re not funny,” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more. 

you turned around, fear fading momentarily as you saw percy still facing the other way, completely oblivious. a wash of relief washed over you—at least he hadn’t heard.

but then, as if he could sense your gaze, he glanced over his shoulder. he locked eyes with you, that stupid grin still there, then he raised one teasing brow at you, telling you he definitely had heard. 

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You want to trim your boyfriend's mustache.

Genre: well needed fluff

Warnings: implied sexual relationship in the end, mentions of bleeding

~ this came to me in a dream. idk. enjoy 🫶 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Please," you whine, practically hanging from his arm as he unlocks the front door of your shared apartment. In an instant, you've thrown your heels on the floor, still clinging to poor Tangerine like he's your lifeline.

"You can brush my hair! Braid it even! I pinky promise," you try and bargain, which only causes a low chuckle to rumble from your boyfriend's chest. 

"How is that a fair trade?" he raises an eyebrow. Tangerine undoes his tie and hangs up his coat near the door. He takes your coat too as you drop his arm and does the same.

"Because I pamper you and then you pamper me," you explain sternly, now almost visibly buzzing with excitement and the residue of the liquor you'd drank as you look at him expectantly. You aren't drunk, just relaxed. "C'mon, please." 

Tangerine curses his brother for even planting this stupid idea into your mind at the bar.

He rolls his eyes and rolls up his sleeves at the same time. "I don't trust ya around sharp objects, darlin'," he says, crossing his arms.

You swat your hand in the air and shush him. "Pshh, I cook for us all the time and I don't hear you complaining about me touching a knife." 

Tangerine is silent. He can't argue with that, he does adore your cooking. "Fine," he mumbles and walks into the apartment, disappearing into the bathroom to set some stuff up. "But if you mess this up, I'm cutting your hair as punishment," he calls out casually.

You scrunch up your nose in disapproval, walking behind him and lingering in the doorway of the bathroom. "Isn't that a bit dramatic? I'm talking about giving your 'stache a trim and you threaten my beautiful hair?"

"I like my mustache as much as ya like your hair," Tangerine hums, running some water into a rather large bowl. "Seems anything but dramatic, darlin'." 

You know he's joking but his threat still lingers as he finally sits on the toilet lid, smirking and patting his knee. "C'mere you," he mutters, his voice softer, and when you walk close enough, he grabs your hips and pulls you down to straddle one of his thighs.

You're giddy again when he shows you the razor, shaving cream, as well as the bowl of warm water he's set up on the counter for you. It's a fancy shaving set, with some fancy brush you aren't even sure how to use. You hold them up in front of him. 

"Bought these from the King?" you tease.   

 Tangerine rolls his eyes again, "One more smartass comment and we're going to bed," he warns lightheartedly. You shut your mouth, nodding, and he smirks. He closes his eyes when he feels your delicate fingers spread the shaving cream around his mustache. 

God, he's so smitten by you he's letting you mess with his appearance. He feels a little silly.  

You raise the razor, sticking out your tongue as you concentrate. You don't want to hurt him and you want to get this right—you want to make him happy. You go slow, hands trembling slightly as you rock in his lap. Tangerine groans internally as he feels you on his thigh, his hands grasping your hips to steady you so neither of you move.

He flinches when you almost cut his lip and you gasp, pulling away the razor. "I'm sorry!" 

Tangerine chuckles, opening one eye, "Am I bleeding?" 

You shake your head and lean back forwards, "No, but wait, I'm so close to done," you bite your lip and finish a little. Your smile grows and you sit up, grinning, "There!" Tangerine turns to look in the mirror but you shake your head and dip a cloth into the warm water to wipe away the shaving cream. With a skip in your step, you grab your makeup-mirror and hold it up to him. 

Silence follows and your stomach flips. "Well?" You sound nervous and your boyfriend grins. 

"It's alright, luv," he jokes as he places the mirror on the counter. You pout and he chuckles. He reaches out and takes your hip, pulling you onto his lap again. "It looks real good, darlin'" Tangerine admits, his voice low in your ear. You giggle and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

"You look very handsome," you say honestly and Tangerine beams. 

He wasn't used to these kinds of emotions before he met you. He loved Lemon and that was it, and obviously this was a very different kind of love. You made his chest burst with warmth. You made him feel all kinds of soft inside and he'd fought that feeling for so long, and still you stayed. You stayed and he finally opened up to loving you, and he hadn't stopped since. Tangerine's eyes soften as he sees how happy he's made you. 

He pokes your nose. "Thanks to ya, I suppose." 

You laugh and lean in to kiss him, your hand scratching at the hairs on his nape. He kisses you back, wrapping both arms around your back and under your shirt. You gasp at the coldness of his hands but then melt into the kiss again. Tangerine nudges you with his nose and his mustache tickles your upper lip. You just smile, deepening the kiss. 

Without hesitation, his arms settle under your ass and he picks you up as he stands. You wrap your legs around his waist and laugh again. "Where are you taking me?"

Tangerine hums. "The bedroom. It's my turn to braid your hair, innit?"

You kiss his cheek and down his neck. "I suppose," you tease and pull away with a wink, "or we could do something else?"

Tangerine just grins, dropping you on the bed with a bounce as your laughter fills the room.

[jjkamochoso]

Im have too many gojo thoughts in my head, so I'll just send them! (^_^ take all the time you need to replied/write im very patient!)

Ok ok soo dad!gojo is in my head 24/7 so maybe the reader and gojo take little gojo to the Aquarium!! Gojo with a min him is so cute to me 😭😭

Ahhh omg this SO cute!!!! Dad!Gojo would definitely be fun... we get a few glimpses here and there with him and Megumi so let's throw a mini Satoru in the mix and see what kind of chaos/cuteness occurs at the aquarium🤭 Thanks so much for this amazing request and for your patience, I appreciate it!!🫶❤️ sorry I was gone for so long but I hope you love this!!

Go(jo)ing to the Aquarium

Fluff

Dad!Gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: none

*Just fyi I'm using y/c/n to signify your child's name!

"Dad! Dad, hurry up! I wanna see the fish!"

You snickered at your impatient child, taking hold of her hand. "Calm down, y/c/n, Dad's going as fast as he can." You turned to Gojo, who was busy pulling out his wallet to pay for admission. "You heard the girl. Hurry up. The water will be evaporated from the tanks by the time you're done here."

Gojo pouted as he handed over his credit card to the employee. "No fair, you always take her side."

You smirked. "She's cuter."

Gojo turned to your daughter. "Your other parent is a meanie. I wouldn't listen to them all day if I were you."

"Satoru!" you exclaimed, lightly swatting at his arm. "Don't encourage her. She already takes after you enough."

"Fish! Fish! Fish!" your daughter chanted as Gojo held onto the admission tickets, walking further into the building.

"Fish! Fish! Fish!" he joined in, causing you to send an apologetic look to the employees and other visitors for the two children you were in charge of.

"Where to first?" you asked your family, and they quieted down as they thought long and hard.

"Turtles!" y/c/n said after a minute of silence.

"Turtle exhibit it is then. Do you have the map?" you asked Satoru.

"Pssh, who needs a map? I see it all, remember?" he said, pointing at his blue sunglasses playfully.

"We're at an aquarium, Satoru, not in a domain. A map will do just fine."

"Have it your way," he replied, putting his hands up in surrender. He then squatted down to talk to y/c/n. "While they read the map, wanna look at the starfish over there?"

Y/c/n nodded enthusiastically and your husband and daughter ran off together. You couldn't help the smile that overtook your face as you observed them from afar. Sure, Satoru was a total goof-off, but you had to admit, he was a pretty cool dad. He was always fun and rarely strict, but he knew when to be serious, which made his childlike demeanor much more bearable. Although you joked around about it a lot, you were truly happy that your daughter was becoming more and more like him every day.

"Alright you two, I found the turtles. Shall we head that way?"

Your daughter nodded and Satoru took her hand, letting you take the lead. When you got to the turtle exhibit, you let y/c/n explore a bit on her own, as long as she stayed in sight and out of trouble.

"She's really something else, isn't she?" you mused, slightly leaning against Satoru.

"She's hilarious and headstrong. Takes after another amazing person I know."

"You're so humble, Gojo."

"I wasn't done," he said, nudging you softly. "Y/c/n is also extremely smart, passionate, and strong."

"Those still sound like traits of yours."

Satoru looked at you, his pink lips forming into a gentle smile. "Mm, I was thinking that sounded like another amazing person I know. Somebody by the name of y/n. Sound familiar?"

"Doesn't ring a bell." You pretended to think hard. "But they do sound pretty cool."

"They're the best person I know," he declared certainly. You swore you could've kissed him right there in the middle of the crowd, but you held back, instead opting to grab his hand and kiss the back of it.

"Let's go. I think y/c/n wants us to see something."

Your daughter was frantically waving you over.

"We're coming honey," you called out. "What would you like to show us?"

"Look! There's three turtles swimming together. They're a family, just like us."

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?" said Gojo, wrapping one arm around y/c/n and the other around you. You all stood quietly for a few brief moments, watching the turtles, until y/c/n broke the silence.

"I wanna see jellyfish!" she declared.

"Me too!" said Satoru. "But I wanna touch some manta rays first!"

"Jellyfish!" demanded y/c/n.

"Manta rays!" Satoru asserted indignantly.

"Don't worry kids, we have plenty of time to do both," you replied with a teasing smile. As your two favorite people ran off ahead of you once more, your heart swelled with love.

[pseudophan]

Since you're the go-to phannie dream blog in my mind, here's my dream log from last night:

I had a really lovely dream last night where dan and phil were for some reason hosting a giant pool party that was like the size of a tit show and they were doing it multiple times. At the start they joked about how people liked to theorize about the phouse’s structure and how they saw some people saying that they had a pool in their basement because of this event, and dan did his jokey shout about how they have other things to pay for and how they would not have hosted us in their totally fake pool in their basement to protect the phouse’s address. He left us very unclear about whether or not they actually had a pool in their basement and pool hill grew exponentially because it had been a somewhat niche topic that mostly came up in phanfic before. At each pool event, they had a group of people that were invited into a smaller pool with them while the rest of the fans partied in the giant, theatre sized pool in the background. Yet somehow it was not at all overwhelming sound or people wise, it felt strangely intimate. I was super shocked that I was invited to the small pool this time, and I felt a bit of imposter syndrome with it. We started with everyone kinda standing in a circle around dan and phil and then we broke off depending on who we wanted to talk to. But pretty much everyone went to talk with dan? I was very sad and went with just a few people to hang out with phil while there was a relatively giant circle around dan, but he looked like he was having a good time. Dan was mostly standing around in the center with his cohort and phil and me and a little kid named charlie (or something cute with a c) wandered around him like we were in a lazy river. It was strange because there was no water resistance and it didn’t feel like we were in the water at all, but we were. We had a very nice chat about nothing really of substance, but I felt like I was talking to a friend. Charlie eventually wandered off, he was around 6 so it made sense that he was bored, and phil went to go and sit on the sidelines with a towel. I was intimidated by the group around dan so I went and collected the mini chocolate bars that were floating around, occasionally bumping into charlie. I have no idea who his parents were – was he their kid or just a kid who happened to be unsupervised? It was very unclear. I got a handful of chocolate and went to phil to show off what I had found. He seemed excited that I had found a good amount, but sad that there was one that had been opened at the bottom of the pool-waste of a good chocolate he said. I sat next to him and we compared chocolate. They were all fancy branded chocolate but with special flavors that had funny icons and names. He said that his favorite was the disco chocolate with a unicorn on it and it was like a cookies and cream type thing. He bit into it with gusto as I opened my first wrapper. Not sure what the flavor was, but it had a chestnut horse on the front and it looked to have some sort of nut on the inside. It was bizarre how the seemingly normal paper wrapper had protected it from all water, pool smell, etc. It seemed like they had never been in the pool. Some girl who wasn’t in pool attire came up and said that it wasn’t fair that I was hoarding phil, which I thought was strange because I had left him alone for a while when I was collecting chocolate and no one went up to him but I said I was happy to give her some time alone with him, but then she huffed and went over to dan (who was, mind you, in the pool and she just went straight in with her fancy emo attire without seeming to care if it got wet). Phil brushed her off and we sat in a comfortable silence watching dan entertain in the pool. I woke up feeling very parasocially nourished. 

-golden-phig

this is how detailed my dreams were when i was on zoloft, goddamn

the idea of a dan and phil pool party is hysterical can i just say, especially one where they split up to talk to people the entire time i think they might die. can you imagine the discourse if everyone only wanted to talk to dan 😭 i got stressed just reading that

[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 11

Notes: Probably my last chapter for the day. I'm queasy. ;u;

Summary: Sonic and Shadow discuss what happened to diverge their timelines..

Chapter Select!

Link to my AO3!

Start:

“So it sounds like our stories line up all the way until I fell from the ARK..,” Shadow says quietly from his spot on the couch. They moved to the living room to get more comfortable, figuring this conversation was going to be a pretty long one. Sonic had whipped up a chilidog for Shadow, of course. While they’re not the most appetizing food to Shadow, he’s not picky when he’s starved.

He sets his empty plate down on the coffee table for now, taking another long sip of his water before looking back to Sonic who sits diagonal to him in the loveseat.

He looks a bit drained.. Apparently the incident with Shadow falling from space was one that haunted this Sonic pretty regularly. He didn’t enjoy reliving it..

Neither did Shadow, to be fair.

“...They have to disperse somewhere,” Shadow concludes with a rub to the side of his face, sighing and pursing his lips a moment.

“...What happened next for you?” Sonic asks after a pause, looking at Shadow now. His eyes look red around the rims.. When’s the last time this hedgehog got any sleep?? “Well..,” Shadow is quiet a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Losing one’s memory several times definitely makes one rethink them when retelling them. But he’s pretty sure he’s gotten everything sorted out correctly in his head at this point. “I was awoken by Rouge–” “Rouge??” Sonic questions, a furrow of his brow, “..the bat?? Like the jewel thief?? Works for GUN, has a on and off thing with Knux– that Rouge??” “Yes, who else?” Shadow questions, his brow raising a bit questioningly at Sonic’s reaction.

Sonic’s head shakes a bit at that, placing a hand on his own chest, “I am the one who found you.”

Shadow blinks at that, his eyes widening a bit. The diversion. This must be where their universes separate.. “You?”

Sonic nods, moving a hand to rub the back of his neck as he averts his eyes, “Yeah- after you fell, I couldn’t sleep. It wouldn’t sit right with me. It felt like I was missing something. So I started doin’ some diggin’. I thought maybe if I got to know your story the best I could, maybe I could find some sort of closure over your death. So I broke into GUN facilities, raided abandoned research caches, even made a deal with Rouge to retrieve all information she had given GUN on you before your death.. I learned everything I possibly could about you.” Shadow listens silently as Sonic explains his obsession with Shadow after his supposed death. He can’t say he doesn’t relate to it.. He’s certainly experienced similar amounts of guilt. It’s enough to make someone spiral if they don’t have the proper support system..

“I knew there were still pieces missing. Gerald Robotnik’s journal was redacted to the point it was hardly readable. That’s when I figured Eggman might have access to the full story.. Maybe he had the whole journal, ya’know?? So I broke into one of his bases and… well..”

“You found me,” Shadow finishes, slow realization creeping onto his face.

“I found you..,” Sonic breathes as if experiencing the relief all over again, “...I can’t tell you what I felt when I saw you in that tank asleep..”

Shadow doesn’t speak a long moment, pondering Sonic’s words and how something as simple as Sonic being the one to wake Shadow up could change so much..

“..and what of Omega??” Shadow asks, trying not to show too much concern in his tone.

“Omega??” Sonic asks, seeming a bit thrown off by the question before snapping his fingers and, “Oh yeah! That robot that was there when I woke you. He put up a decent fight, but you scared him off pretty quick. He said he had more important business to attend to before flying away. Only ever saw him again working with Rouge at GUN. He always talks about annihilating shit..”

Shadow smirks slightly at that. Some things never change, he supposes..

“...What happened then?? When you found me??” “You couldn’t remember nothin’, Sonic answers with a sigh, leaning back in his seat, “I told you who I was. That I was there to help you.. You seemed skeptical, but you eventually let me take you back to Tails. He ran tests on you and stuff. Said you had amnesia, but were indeed the real Shadow.”

“You thought I potentially wasn’t??” the ebony hedgehog questions with a tilt of his head.

“Well, you did fall from space and survive,” Sonic smirks a bit, “Not many can do that.. And we thought if one Robotnik could make a Shadow, then another potentially could. So we made sure.” “Hm,” Shadow nods, crossing his arms, “Fair enough..” “After that, you stayed with us for a while. I told you your story, showed you the things I had discovered about you. You were extremely appreciative, and when you asked how you could ever return the favor, I told you not to worry about it. Just don’t go falling from the sky again,” Sonic snickers a bit, his eyes looking off at the floor as if reliving the moment, “...You joined my team. Said we worked well together, and you wanted to help me protect the world. Just like Maria would want..”

Shadow’s brows knit a bit at the mention of Maria, looking away as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

“..The rest is history,” Sonic shrugs, clapping his hands on his thighs before rubbing up and down them with a grin, “We’ve been unstoppable since.”

Shadow hums, his mind racing with all this information. There’s the obvious questions of how major events differed with Shadow and Sonic working together.. Such as with Infinite.. Did that even happen?? And did Shadow accompany Sonic on all his adventures?? Did Black Doom ever invade, and if so, did Sonic stick by Shadow’s side through all of it??

And then there were the smaller things, too. Like how Shadow’s personality had changed due to this. Was he an obnoxious smirking hero like Sonic in this world?? What about Rouge?? Did he even have any sort of affiliation with her??

The thought made his chest ache a bit.. He hoped she was alright in this world.

None of that mattered in the end, though. It was a world that wasn’t his, and its history had no effect on him. So he swallowed his curiosity in fear over overwhelment.

“...What happened in your world?? You said Rouge found you?” Sonic asks, leaning forward some to show he’s listening. “Yes, Rouge found me. She was looking for treasure of some sort in Eggman’s base when she stumbled upon me. She actually talked Omega and I down from a battle, and we all ended up teaming up together to find Eggman for some answers– well. Except Omega. He just wanted to kill the bastard.”

Shadow snorts almost affectionately when he says this, but Sonic’s smile seems a bit uncomfortable.

“Did he??”

“Kill him?? No. Not in the end. It’s complicated,” Shadow assured, continuing, “We ran into your team at some point. We battled for the sake of it, I suppose.. But in the end, we all had a common interest, and that was defeating Eggman’s rogue robot that had been leading us all to a trap.” “Metal??” “Mhm,” Shadow nods, “We won, of course. You and your group defeated him with relative ease once you used the chaos emeralds to transform. After that, Black Doom invaded with the Black Arms–” Shadow pauses, noticing how Sonic sucks in a tiny breath and how his hands clench his own thighs a bit tighter..

“..I guess you’re familiar with them.” Sonic nods. Nothing more..

Shadow doesn’t push it, nodding in return before continuing, “After their defeat, I decided to move on with my life. I had regained most of my memory, but it didn’t feel like me anymore. I was.. disconnected with that life. I wanted to continue on doing and being whatever I chose to do and be with nothing from my past defining it.. That was until the Time Eater came and quite literally made me face my past once more..”

Sonic shifts a bit in his seat at that, brows knitting up as he speaks quietly, “That.. happened here, too. I hated it.. I wasn’t able to be with you for most of it because I was having to restore the timeline. But when I finally found you in the White Space, you looked so frantic and confused and hopeful and stressed..” “I was hoping to save them..,” Shadow explains quietly, looking away again, “...in my world, Sonic and I raced for the emerald. I ended up tricking him and giving him a fake.”

He pulls out the fake then, holding it up with a small smirk, “This one, in fact.” “How’d you pull that off if I needed them to defeat the Time Eater?” Sonic smirks right back with a quirk of his brow.

“Swapped it before you faced it,” Shadow explains, tossing the emerald up and down in his palm absentmindedly before tucking it back into his quills, “You never even knew.” Sonic snorts, rolling his eyes with a little chuckle, “Sounds like a lot of trouble. Bet there’s lots of times you and your world’s version of me could simply get along and team up and get shit done quicker, but make it more difficult because your egos.” Shadow looks insulted for a moment, opening his mouth to argue with this but–

It’s a fair point.

Shadow shrugs at this and leans back in his seat, “To be fair, my Sonic is the biggest pain in the ass and nearly impossible to reason with.” “Aw- I’m sure he ain’t that bad,” Sonic snickers with a little grin playing on his lips, “He probably just has a cr–”

He stumbles. Stopping himself before he finishes as his eyes widen slightly at what he was about to say. “--rrramp. Yup. Running like that all the time definitely gives you cramps. Maybe it makes him moody? Heh heh..”

Shadow’s eyes narrow at Sonic’s obviously improvised words, eyeing the hedgehog that now looks a bit nervous. 

“Right..,” Shadow mutters, not convinced but deciding not to push it. He may not like what he discovers if he does..

Instead, he looks off at the wall again, now getting a closer look at some of the picture frames hanging about. There’s one of Shadow sitting in a field of lavender, someone else having taken the photo. There’s one of Shadow with Sonic, Cream and Amy at Twinkle Park. 

There’s one of just Sonic and Shadow.. Sonic’s arm around Shadow’s shoulders and hugging him close enough that their faces are smushed together. Sonic making a peace sign with his lips puckered and a wink at the camera, while Shadow just smiles small and shy.. He’s looking at Sonic.

“You know, my Shadow and I had a lot of tension between us for a while as well,” Sonic says after a moment, regaining Shadow’s attention back to him, “We bickered a lot. He was so serious and quiet and focused and I was so–” “Obnoxious?” Shadow finishes with a raise of his brow. “I was gonna say opposite,” Sonic’s eyes narrow at the hedgehog before he continues unbothered, “Anyway. It was hard for a while.. Learning each other’s mannerisms and ticks and boundaries.. It was definitely a challenge.” Shadow hums. “But thank Chaos we both like challenges, huh??” Sonic beams, winking at Shadow. Shadow just rolls his eyes with a small groan. “I don’t like challenges. I just refuse to be made a fool by some egotistical moron running around without a care in the world.” “I’ve got plenty of cares,” Sonic corrects with a pointed look. “..plenty.” “Right,” Shadow says unconvinced, his tone sarcastic and precise.

Sonic huffs a bit at that, grumbling mostly to himself, “I soo didn’t miss this..”

Shadow’s own huff escapes him in response before he looks out the window.

It’s getting dark out. Shadow isn’t precisely tired after resting so long. More groggy than anything..

He looks back to Sonic and finds he’s also looking out the window.

A longing in his eyes..

He misses him. His Shadow..

Shadow tries not to think too much into that, but..

“...Sonic–” “You wanna go for a run??”

[crepesuzette2023]

What We Need Is A Schedule

After the fun and games of one year ago, John and Paul are no longer fooling around. Lennon & McCartney talk about their job, songwriting. from THE BEATLES BOOK MONTHLY, No. 33, June 1966

JOHN: Now that Paul's back from his holidays, we're getting ready to do quite a bit of recording. We have to get two songs for a new single in the next couple of weeks and we've got to start work on another LP album. That means we want nearly twenty new numbers- allowing for a couple of spare ones in case something doesn't really work out when we get in the studio.

PAUL: I think song-writing is like any other kind of writing. You tend to put it off until somebody tells you it has to be finished by a particular date.

JOHN: When we're on our own and we think of an idea for a song, the main thing is to get it down so that it isn't forgotten. Words you can write on bits of paper but it's not that easy with a tune. We've found the best way of all is to use a tape recorder.

PAUL: With a tape you can put on the voice and add bits of guitar and things later when you get a good idea in your mind for a guitar phrase or an introduction.

JOHN: And it doesn't really matter if you haven't got all the lyrics worked out. You can just hum or go "la-la-la-la" for the bits you haven't written yet.

PAUL: Then John and I get together and play over the tapes we've made.

JOHN: Paul's much more of an expert about recording his songs. Some of his tapes are fantastic--they're dubbed and everything so that you get the full group sound--not like mine which are just my own voice and one guitar.

PAUL: Just like any other kind of writing, it's impossible to walk about doing other things and suddenly say to yourself "Ah, l've got a song coming on. Here it comes now" and rush to your tape recorder.

JOHN: I dunno. Sometimes you can start off a new song like that. It depends.

PAUL: We've been talking about this and we've decided we ought to force ourselves to arrange days for songwriting together in advance.

JOHN: It's too easy to put it off if we just meet without any plan and say "Shall we write something today?". If you do that you feel as though you're losing a free day. What we're going to do is make dates beforehand and sort of say "Right Wednesday and Friday of this week are for songwriting. And Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of next week". Then we'll know it's something we've to keep to.

PAUL: We'll try to fix times and keep to them. Get into a room with guitars and a piano and a tape recorder and work things out.

JOHN: I said at the start we would need twenty new numbers. Actually, both of us have some half-started stuff which needs finishing. Some of Paul's tapes are almost complete too. We'll probably get five or six songs out of these and then begin thinking up new ones.

PAUL: One of the only real differences between the way we prepare for recording sessions now and the way we did it years ago is that we know more about recording techniques.

JOHN: Earlier on we'd go into the studio and George Martin would say after he'd heard something "Well, that's going to be O.K. but why don't you try putting a so-and-so in there." And he'd suggest an organ sound or double-tracking on something. Now we know just how much can be done in the studio we can think up new sounds and different instruments to use before a session.

PAUL: Means we should get more done at a session.

JOHN: Ah, I've got a song coming on. Here it comes now!

PAUL: Right! Let's get back to work.

Photos accompanying the taped "interview" (J & P talking to tape recorder)

[lesbiancarat]

want to give my two cents on the AI usage in the maestro trailer--

i think seventeen doing a whole concept that is anti-AI is very cool, especially as creatives themselves i think it's good that they're speaking up against it and i hope it gets more ppl talking about the issue. i also understand on a surface level the artistic choice (whether it was made by the members, the mv director, or whoever else), to directly use AI in contrast to real, human-made visuals and music in order to criticize it. i also appreciate that they clearly stated the intention of the use of AI at the beginning of the video

however, although i understand it to an extent, i do not agree with the choice to use AI to critique AI. one of the main ethical concerns with generative AI is that it is trained on other artists' work without their knowledge, consent, or compensation. and even when AI generated images are being used to critique AI, it still does not negate this particular ethical concern

the use of AI to critique also does not negate the fact that this is work that could have been done by an actual artist. i have seen some people argue that it's okay in this context because it's a critique specifically about AI, and it is content that never would have been done by a real artist anyway because it doesn't make sense for the story they're trying to tell. but i disagree. i think you can still tell the exact same story without using AI

and in fact, i would argue that it would make the anti-AI message stronger if they HAD paid an artist to draw/animate the scenes that are supposed to represent AI generated images. wouldn't it just be proof that humans can create images that are just as bad and nonsensical and soulless as AI, but that AI can't replicate the creativity and beauty and basic fucking anatomy that's in human-made art?

it feels very obvious this was not just a way to cut corners and costs like a lot of scummy people are using AI for. ultimately it was a very intentional creative decision, i just personally think it was a very poor one. and even if some ethical considerations were taken into account before this decision, i certainly don't think all of them were. at the very least i feel like the decision undermines the message they want to convey

i would also like to recognize that i myself am not an artist, and i have seen some artists that are totally on board with the use of AI in this specific context, so clearly this is not a topic that is cut and dry. but generative AI is still new, and i think it's important to keep having these conversations

[shions-chin-scar]

As much as I enjoy the idea of Micah rizzing up naive city girls with (highly exaggerated) epic tales of his cowboy adventures, I know in my heart from watching his painful flirting attempts with Mary-Beth and Abigail that most of his experience with women comes from working girls

[starpros-sunshine]

I don't know if I ever talked about this on here before but it's been on my mind from time to time and that is the idea that Wataru one time catches a really bad cold so he just avoids Eichi for the time being (Because Hey. Maybe. If you're sick with a bacterial disease that spreads really easily. Maybe try not to pass it on to the guy with the autoimmune disorder. Just a thought.) But he doesn't tell anyone about it because he's The Hibiki Wataru he doesn't get sick.

So the only ones who know about this are his roommates because it's kind of hard to hide this from people you share a room with especially if you stay cooped up in your room a lot to try not to infect others with your cold and also a runny red nose and a sore throat aren't really a good look on someone that's not the biggest fan of open vulnerability. (If you ask yourself why he would stay in his dorm I have no idea either my guess is the guy just doesn't have anywhere else to go on short notice it's not like he has a flat outside of ES or something so as long as I don't have that figured out he'll have to stay in the dorms)

And yeah no back to point do the gist of the thing is Eichi notices that Wataru tries to stay away from him and he does not know why and it makes him sad and kind of angry and because he's Eichi of course he wonders if it was something he did or if it was just Wataru finally realising that Eichi just isn't what he deserves or whatever else self depreciating things could cross your mind in a situation like this.

So basically then he goes to the first person he would think of to know if he did anything wrong in regards to Wataru: Rei. Rei is mildly confused but reassures him Wataru didn't say anything in that regard.

And this entire scenario just boils down to Eichi wondering why Wataru is avoiding him and thinking it's his fault so he goes around asking everyone he could expect a proper answer from without thinking to ask Wataru himself because a) he's avoiding him. Why would he risk making things worse? And b) it's stupider and funnier this way and this entire scenario is just me laughing at their communication or lack thereof completely ignoring the underlying issues that would've caused it. And I know this is dumb and stupid because everyone else in ensquare would need to be an idiot for this to work so I'm ignoring that bit as well and just regarding it as something that would be funny in theory but would never happen. Or actually youcan set this entire scenario at Yumenosaki and then it could make perfect sense this seems exactly like the kind of stuff to happen to dramatic highschoolers

[arctic-hands]

The subject came up today and I can't decide so I'm throwing it out there because I don't give a fuck and also having survived all of this kinda makes me sound like a badass

[cosmogyros]

Auditory processing issues suck SO HARD. I just spent about 1.5 hours watching the first half hour of a movie on YouTube, because I had so much trouble understanding the dialogue that I kept constantly having to go back and listen again and again and again, look up a transcript of the full film (the transcript contained mistakes, so it wasn't much help), compare and contrast various subtitle files available online, even cup my hands around my ears, etc. Just to figure out what the characters were saying to each other.

And it's not just literally understanding what words they say to each other, oh no. That's only the first step. The next step is figuring out what those characters MEAN when they say certain words. Like when a dude says "You know, I see, like, if we can get successful, it's, like, L-L, man… limos and Learjets," I feel like I'm having a stroke. I have to hit pause and sit there for a sec and ask myself a bunch of questions and do some research online.

Why did he say L-L? Why did he randomly say the initials of the two things he wants? Also, why does he specifically say 'Learjet'? When people dream of having a private jet, don't they normally say 'private jet'? I'd never heard the word Learjet before, so I had to go look it up to try to get more context, but that didn't really help. Is this a music biz reference I don't know? Is this a Canadian reference I don't know? If this happened once or twice during a movie, it would be no problem, but when I'm stopping and going back literally every two minutes, it takes for-fucking-ever to get through the film and my brain is So! Fucking! Exhausted!

I had to stop at about the half-hour mark. I felt like I was about to cry from frustration, so I quit for the night. I'll return to it in a day or two, when I've got a bit more mental energy, and try to work my way through the rest. If I can get through half an hour of film time per day (in an hour or so, however long it takes to get through that much), I can finish the movie in three days of watching. (And this is a movie I really, really WANT to see. I wouldn't waste a moment of my time struggling through it if I didn't care this much about it.)

Anyway. Sometimes when people say they "don't watch movies much", it doesn't necessarily mean they're being elitist snobs or whatever. Sometimes it's just so fucking challenging and exhausting to watch a movie that it leaves me feeling angry at my own body for being a dysfunctional piece of crap. I don't know if this counts as a "disability" and I'm not claiming that label because I don't want to step on any toes, but I have to admit that the mere prospect of watching a film often fills me with dread because it can be so intensely difficult for me (unless I just mentally check out and give up on understanding it completely, which is what I typically do when I'm watching with other people).

[doolallymagpie]

if i'm reading this correctly, the reason LAMs got downgraded to oblivion is the same reason that we don't hear about a lot of cool acrobatic maneuvers with 'Mechs anymore

one of FASA's designers that came in late, a former army tank crewman, didn't care for the more animesque aspects of BT, which, combined with the Harmony Gold suit round one resulting in all LAM designs being Unseen, pretty much killed a bunch of really cool concepts that did fit the universe pretty well, contrary to popular belief

[raposarealm]

Here are the quest victory quotes for Toyo! I took the screenshots myself this time.

Top: The people are okay, right? Middle: No matter how many times, victory’s a great feeling! Bottom: I hope the rice fields aren’t falling to ruin...

As always, friendly disclaimer that my Japanese isn’t the best, as I’m still learning. If you spot a mistake, please let me know, and I’ll fix it!

[dilbobloggins]

I found 2 metres of silk taffeta at an op shop for $3 the thrift gods have smiled upon me

Look at that colour I love it