#had to go to my guidance counsellor and be like ‘i was WRONG put me in math im abandoning my history and/or liberal arts roots’
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heartbreaking woman in stem actually has to take math
#please i am just a simple fish and wildlife technician why make me take functions#had to go to my guidance counsellor and be like ‘i was WRONG put me in math im abandoning my history and/or liberal arts roots’#but then literally an hour later i was looking at the exact same program at a different school and they didnt even require math#<- shoutout to ***** college fr they do not have ANY prerequisites aside from eng4c#but whatever keep the options open
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So basically I’ve had one of those mornings that makes you want to scream into a pillow. And this afternoon I have a meeting lol
#it’s just with the head of safeguarding/guidance counsellor person at the place i’m doing my web dev course#and it’s to discuss my progress on the course and if i need any extra help#but it’s like… if she asks how my life is going the answer is ‘fucking horribly’#i’m still unemployed despite my best efforts and it’s giving me brain worms#my dog is going so senile that i’m going to have to have her put down soon out of sheer like… wish for her to die with some type of dignity#she’s riddled with arthritis; she has a heart murmur and she’s had so many strokes that i think part of her brain is legitimately dead#my sister just died. my best friend is being stalked and harassed by her abusive ex and i can’t DO anything to help her#well nothing that wouldn’t land me in prison for 20 to life anyway#my other friend (yes i have exactly two friend; shut up) i Thought was ghosting me but she’s actually having a depressive episode#and i can’t help from 5000 miles away#i have no money. no prospects. a busted knee. i’ve lost interest in all my hobbies apart from the one that causes me to lose a bunch of#hours without realising (video games). and i’m disgusting. i didn’t shower this morning and i’ve been running around the neighbourhood#after my idiot terrier who has fully lost her mind but there is NOTHING wrong with her legs or lungs i can tell you that#i don’t know how we didn’t both have a heart attack in those people’s backyard#anyway. if you need me i’m going to let mabel out and see if she’ll produce something#and then i’m going to wash my terrible body#personal
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Daughter Dearest (Part Three)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)
Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family
The next day, Cillian went to see his counsellor, the same woman he had been seeing every fortnight for the past two years, which is also when he had started marriage counselling with your mother.
Enduring three years of loveless marriage had, of course, taken its toll on him, but now he had a different problem all together as, within a span of just seven days, he became somewhat infatuated with you.
"Cillian," greeted the counsellor, opening the door to her office, and gesturing him inside.
"Niamh," Cillian greeted, as he walked past her and into the room, taking a seat on the worn brown leather couch, facing the armchair where the counsellor sat.
Niamh was a small, bird-like woman, with blonde hair perpetually pulled back into a messy bun and wire-framed glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. She was in her sixties and had a kind, open face that put people at ease, and Cillian had always found her to be a source of support and guidance, especially during difficult times in his life.
"How are you doing today, Cillian?" Niamh asked, setting down her pen and notebook.
He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes.
"Okay, I think," he began, before diving straight in. "But, to be honest, Niamh, I'm just... confused and I need some fucking guidance," Cillian said, his voice heavy with frustration and uncertainty.
"I see," Niamh said, nodding sympathetically. "Is it about what we discussed in our last session? Because, as I said before, at your age, not wanting to be intimate can be quite normal," Niamh said gently, referring to the fact that Cillian had lost his interest intimacy about three years ago when his marriage had become more than just slightly troubled.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his tired face. "No, actually, it's not about that," he admitted, meeting Niamh's eyes. "It's about something else.”
Niamh raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, signaling for him to continue.
"It's my stepdaughter," he confessed, "I have some sort of feelings for her. Strong ones, Niamh. I didn't see it coming. It happened suddenly, and now, I don't know what to do about it," he explained and Niamh leaned forward in her chair, her gentle eyes meeting his.
"Go on," she asked quietly, her tone supporting and understanding.
"I am attracted to her, not just platonically or paternally. I want her sexually and I feel guilty about it. I have never felt this way about anyone while I have been married, you know, but now, every time I see her, I am overwhelmed by a need to -" Cillian broke off, rubbing his forehead in frustration.
"It's okay, take your time," Niamh said gently, her words an invitation for him to continue when he was ready.
"Thank you," Cillian murmured, taking a deep breath. "It's just that, she's my stepdaughter and I know it's fucking wrong," he said, rubbing his hand over his face again.
"I assume that she is, uhm, your adult stepdaughter? Cliona? The one that has been living with you for a while?" Niamh asked after running through her notes, seeing that you had never been mentioned in these sessions before.
"Cliona?" Cillian gasped. "No, it's her twin sister, Y/N. She moved in with us a few days ago," he replied, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.
"I see, and you are finding yourself attracted to her?" Niamh inquired, jotting down his response.
"Yes and it's making things really complicated. I haven't made a move. But when I am around her, I can't help but feel...enticed, and it's consuming me," Cillian admitted, his eyes lost in thought.
A moment of silence passed between them before Niamh spoke, "It's important to remember that feeling attraction to another person is not a crime, but acting on them in this situation can be problematic and harmful," she said gently.
Cillian nodded, taking that in. "I know, and I don't want to hurt her or my wife for that matter," he said, sighing deeply.
"Good. That's a healthy perspective," Niamh replied, nodding encouragingly. "Now, let's explore this attraction you feel. What is it exactly about her that draws you in?"
Cillian sat up straighter, his gaze lost in thought as he tried to simply her feelings into words. "It's her intelligence and creativity I suppose. Her curiosity about the world is so captivating to watch," he explained, carefully choosing his words. "She's bold and there's a spark in her eyes - an unapologetic, fierce beauty - that I find incredibly attractive," Cillian confessed, his voice softening.
Niamh nodded, understanding the depth of his feelings. "It's understandable that you would be drawn to someone with those qualities. But as you already acknowldged, your feelings are complicated and can have serious consequences."
Cillian nodded solemnly, knowing that his feelings could potentially ruin his marriage and hurt his stepdaughter. "What should I do, Niamh? How do I move past this?" he asked desperately.
He was at a loss of what to do, and the guilt was consuming him.
"Firstly, Cillian, I want you to understand that it is completely normal to feel attracted to others, even if they are close to us." Niamh's voice was calm and reassuring, and Cillian felt a small sense of relief wash over him. "So, it is important to take a step back and examine your feelings. Acknowledge them, process them, but above all, do not act on them until you have had a chance to carefully consider the consequences."
"I understand," Cillian said, nodding his head solemnly. "But how do I move past these feelings? Because I just want them to stop." He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration.
"I am afraid that you may not be able to ever truly move past these feelings," Niamh said gently. "And the only way forward, Cillian, is to address them, acknowledge them, accept them, and manage them."
Cillian took a deep breath, his voice filled with exhaustion. "Manage them, but how?" he asked, unsure of where to start.
"By making a conscious decision to distance yourself from her," Niamh replied, her voice firm but gentle. "Even in your own house, do not engage with her unless absolutely necessary. Refrain from spending any unnecessary time with her. Focus on nurturing your relationship with your wife and your daughter Sadie."
Cillian nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Alright, I will try and do that ," he said, committing to the plan.
Niamh then leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady on him. "It's important to note that these feelings won't disappear overnight, Cillian. It will take time and hard work to manage them, but it's imperative that you do, for your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your loved ones."
Cillian took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I know," he said quietly, feeling more resolved than ever to take control of the situation and do what was best for everyone involved.
Tags:
@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn
@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts
@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x you
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Marry Me Review
!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
I was really excited to see this movie based on the trailers and it did not disappoint! It was so good! If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend that you find some time this weekend and go! It’s so funny and the music is so catchy! It’s exactly what I needed to see right now! At its core Marry Me is pure, fluffy, rom-com magic. As others have pointed out what makes it so special is that it recaptures so much of that magic that early 2000’s rom-coms had without any of the offensive jokes, patriarchal nonsense, or stupid misunderstandings that could have been solved with a five minute conversation. There’s a reason it was the number one movie on Valentine’s Day this year.
Based on the graphic novel of the same name by Bobby Crosby, Marry Me is about a pop superstar named Kat Valdez who minutes before she’s about to go onstage and marry her fiancé Bastian finds out that he’s been cheating on her with her assistant Tyra via a gossip website. Distressed and heartbroken she picks a man holding a ‘Marry Me’ sign out of the crowd and agrees to marry him onstage. The man turns out to be Charlie Gilbert, a divorced math teacher, who is there with his daughter Lou and was guilted into going to the concert by his best friend Parker.
Following the concert Kat decides to stay married to Charlie for a few months to avoid people thinking she’s manic and that there’s something wrong with her and to put a positive spin on an otherwise terrible situation. Charlie reluctantly agrees to the arrangement out of kindness and as time goes on the two grow closer after getting the chance to spend time together outside of the media spotlight and her management team. Kat bonds with Charlie’s daughter Lou and gets to know his students and eventually the two fall in love for real.
The movie stars Jennifer Lopez as pop superstar Kat Valdez, Latin pop star Maluma as Bastian, Owen Wilson as math teacher Charlie Gilbert, Sarah Silverman as Parker Debbs the school guidance counsellor and Charlie’s best friend, and John Bradley from Game of Thrones as Collin Calloway Kat’s long-time manager and friend. Rounding out the cast are Chloe Coleman from My Spy and Big Little Lies as Charlie’s daughter Lou and Michelle Buteau as Kat’s assistant Melissa. Jimmy Fallon also appears playing a fictionalized version of himself throughout the movie.
What makes this film work is the quality of the writing and the adorable odd-couple chemistry that Kat and Charlie share. They make you fall in love with their story and root for them. The film perfectly leans into the silliness and romanticism that made early to mid 2000’s rom-coms so fun! I loved how the movie stuck to its premise and didn’t try to be something that it wasn’t. The film never takes itself too seriously or tries to make some big profound point. It’s everything that I hoped Isn’t It Romantic? the 2019 rom-com staring Rebel Wilson and Liam Hemsworth would be but wasn’t.
And the reason is clear. The problem with Isn’t It Romantic as a movie was that it took itself too seriously, was always trying to prove some big point about the patriarchy or social norms, and leaned so heavily into parody that it was no longer funny. I had high hopes for that movie and I know a lot of other people did too and while it was ground-breaking for its casting of a plus sized lead the movie ultimately fell flat and just wasn’t the success everyone had hoped for.
Where Marry Me finds its strength is in working within the conventional norms of the traditional rom-com and romantic movie genre while also pointing out things that are problematic in more subtle ways. Because of this when Kat gives a speech at a press conference talking about how ridiculous it is that women feel like they have to wait for a proposal and are expected to take their husband’s last name it doesn’t feel preachy or overdone. It feels authentic. It feels like the genuine complaints of a frustrated woman whose been through hell and back and that is a feeling I think a lot of women can relate to.
There is so much expected of us and going against the grain to do what you want and be happy can often be an uphill battle and come with challenges that most men, the straight ones anyway, rarely have to face. In truth, Marry Me is the feminist rom-com for the modern age that so many other movies have tried to be but didn’t really pull off. There were so many things I loved about this movie. I was surprised at just how funny it was! I knew it would have humour in it based on the premise and the trailers, but I was pleasantly surprised at just how on point the jokes were.
Concentrated heavily in the first half of the movie the jokes, humorous dialogue, and comical situations had me laughing non-stop. The opening number of Kat’s concert is an upbeat tempo number called ‘Church’ that finds J.Lo dressed in an ornament, bejewelled, Catholic cross inspired body suit surrounded by back up dancers in sexy shortened nun outfits. I couldn’t stop laughing and the song is really catchy! It felt like a cross between a Madonna and a J.Lo concert in the best way! It honestly made me want to see her sing live in person. Both Wilson and Lopez have great comedic timing together and Silverman knocks it out of the park as always. Bradley and Coleman shine in their comedic moments as well.
The second half of the movie focused more heavily on emotional moments and power ballads which served to give the movie its emotional punch and sentimental centre. Something I really loved about this movie is that it addressed a whole bunch of things that most movies or TV shows usually leave out or don’t address which are particular pet peeves of my best friend and I who I went to see the movie with. For example, we see Kat talking to her manager about filling the paperwork to make the marriage legal. This is a big pet peeve of ours as in most films or TV shows you see people get married by an officiant, but you never see them actually sign the paperwork or talk about it.
Likewise, when Kat got to the airport to go after Charlie, we saw her manager come to her rescue with her passport, a ticket, and some money as you can’t get on a plane without those things. I had a moment when I thought they were just going to let her through and onto the plane because she was famous which would have been super unrealistic in this day and age. It made for a really sweet moment between Kat and her manager Collin who showed himself to be a loving and supportive friend who genuinely cared about her and did what he could to protect her. I also loved the moment when she tried to buy someone else’s ticket and he had to explain to her that that was illegal and that everyone, or almost everyone, knows that. I’m glad that they chose to go the realistic route as it made for some funny moments and added a sense of realism to the film that a lot of rom-coms, even good ones, tend to lack.
I loved the scenes of Kat and Charlie getting to know each other and them challenging each other to step outside of their comfort zones. Like Kat getting Charlie to try social media and become more tech savvy and Charlie getting Kat to do things for herself when she hadn’t in a long time. I felt like spending time with Charlie brought Kat back to her roots and that was what made her fall for him. I love that Kat found a way to help Charlie connect with Lou more and the scenes with Charlie and Lou’s dog were adorable and hilarious.
I particularly loved the scene with the Ferris Wheel where Kat got the park to reopen for a night so that they could go alone, and he could experience something that brought back fond memories of his mother. Sweet romantic gestures that bring back good memories are the kind of “I’m rich and famous so I can do this” uses of power or influence that I can get behind. I also loved the scene where Kat gave Lou the Chanel purse and we learned that she works with a non-profit that helps women dress for success and get back on their feet.
I have to say J.Lo’s hat game was on point in this movie! Her outfits were stunning! I loved all of them from her concert ensembles to her date night getups. And the music in this film was incredible! My friend and I both said that we wouldn’t be surprised at all if the tracks from this film wind up charting and that if people use ‘Marry Me’ as one of their wedding songs unironically in the years to come. I’ve personally been blasting the soundtrack since I got home from the theatre and have no intention of stopping.
My personal favourites are the pop and ballad versions of ‘Marry Me’ by J.Lo and Maluma, the religiously inspired pop smash ‘Church’, the self-love ballad ‘Love of my Life’, pop ballad ‘On My Way’, and the yearningly beautiful ‘After Love’. I was shocked and surprised to see Utkarsh Ambudkar as one of the mathalete coaches! As long time followers will know I loved him Free Guy and I love him in CBS’ Ghosts. He’s one of a handful of actors that’s been cropping up in everything lately now that all of the pre-pandemic content that was put on hold for the past year to two years is finally being released and I couldn’t be happier for him.
All this being said no movie is without its faults. To this end, I often found Michelle Buteau’s character annoying and felt like she was a bit much at times. However, humour is subjective and since her style of acting and humour has never really been my thing my dislike of her character was kind of inevitable and I can appreciate that other people do enjoy her particular brand of humour. Something I found odd was how Jimmy Fallon was portrayed throughout the movie.
While the opening late night monologue we see playing at Kat’s apartment was funny, talking about how she married a random guy from the audience and joking that she would likely leave him for her Uber driver and then a bellboy, each successive appearance made Fallon appear more and more cruel and mean spirited. I found this odd because out of all the male late night talk show hosts I find Fallon to be the most kind and genuine. He’s one of the better ones in my opinion and I honestly enjoy watching him interview celebrities and I find his monologues and various segments funny and entertaining.
A big part of his appeal I think is how warm and friendly he is and that seems to genuinely care about his guests and the people who work on his show. Which is why I found it odd that he came across as so villainous and mean spirited in the film. I know he’s playing a caricature of himself, but I think he’s usual persona would have worked just fine. Throughout the movie he seemed to go out of his way to make digs at Kat’s expense and during a live television interview tried to get her to admit that her and Bastion were back together. None of which seems to fit with the person he appears to be in real life or at least the person we see on TV normally.
For instance, when he interviewed RuPaul on his show in February of 2020 and thought that he had insulted them by accident he looked horrified and embarrassed so I found it odd that they had him portray himself as a villain when they already had the philandering Bastion to fill that role. All in all, Marry Me is a feel good, hilarious, and heart-warming film about trying something different and finding true love in the process. If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend it!
Until next time!
#marry me#Jennifer Lopez#j.lo#owen wilson#jimmy fallon#rom com#valentines day#marry me movie#maluma#sarah silverman#john bradley#chloe coleman#feminism#movie review#movie recommendation#review#reviews#thoughts#happily ever after#falling in love#utkarsh ambudkar#comedy#music recommendation
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Should Have Seen it Sooner ~ Vince Dunn
Summary: You make the decision to go visit your brother, Sammy, after graduating university. But that visit quickly becomes much more than you ever would have anticipated.
Warnings: verbal arguments, language, smut (nothing overly detailed)
Word Count: `13.5k
A/N: Let’s all pretend that Vince isn’t about to be traded ahahaha...I’m sad.
Your brother had always been your best friend. Even when you were kids and you refused to do so much as admit you liked him. He was the one who you would run to in the middle of the night when you were six and going through a phase of horrible nightmares. He would walk you back to your room, check under the bed and in the closet and lay with you till you fell asleep again. And when you were a little older and started having bad anxiety at school you would sit in the guidance counsellor’s office and refuse to talk to anyone but Sammy, who they would reluctantly pull out of class to come calm you down. When he had a bad loss in a hockey game he would come home and watch terrible reality tv with you, never wanting to talk about the game. He was the first person to make fun of you when you got a bad haircut but was also the first person to come to your defence when someone else made a comment about it. He picked you up drunk from many highschool parties, promising not to tell mom and dad. You helped him with girl issues, carefully constructing text messages to girls he liked, planning his dates for him and giving him pep talks before those dates.
So when he moved to St. Louis and seemed to be settling in there for awhile you had to admit you were quite upset. Of course growing up with him in hockey you were used to long periods without him, stretches of time when he was on the road. But him moving so far wasn’t easy for you. Then you moved away for university and while it wasn’t any easier, the distraction of new people, new places, and new experiences was enough to make it more bearable.
But once you graduated you were back to square one, realizing you were lost without your brother. So you took your degree and ran straight to St. Louis to spend whatever free time you had between graduating university and starting your life and career with Sammy.
It had been two weeks since you got there, making yourself comfortable in Sammy and Vince’s spare bedroom. You had only briefly met Vince prior to the trip but you were quickly becoming acquainted with him, despite the fact that he spent most of his free time playing video games which you were not about to distract him from.
“Why are you even going on a date?” Sammy asks, sprawled across the guest room bed with his phone in his hands as you stand on the other side of the room in front of the mirror over the dresser, curling your hair. “You’re don’t even live here.”
Glancing at him through the mirror you let a strand of still hot hair fall over your shoulder. “Do you only ever go on dates if you’re imagining spending the rest of your life with the person?”
Sammy looks over at you, his nose crinkling. “Gross.”
“What?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you set your curling iron down, turning around to look at Sammy.
“You’re just going on a date with this guy to get fuck-.”
“Stop,” you exclaim, eyes widening. The last thing you wanted was your older brother thinking about your sex life. “No, I’m just meeting people, going out, having fun. I’m not just trying to get…fucked,” you tell him, turning around to look back into the mirror and continue on with your hair. “If that was the case I wouldn’t be putting this much effort into my appearance when it’ll just get wrecked in-.”
“No,” Sammy exclaims, pushing himself up off your bed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Laughing you watch him walk out of your room, shaking his head.
An hour later you’re in Sammy’s car after he convinced you to let him drive you to your date instead of taking an Uber. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” Sammy tells you as you climb out of your car.
“Okay, dad,” you joke, rolling your eyes as you say your goodbye to Sammy, closing the door.
And call Sammy you did, only it was much earlier than you had expected. The date had gone terribly. It was only twenty minutes into the date, the drinks you had ordered not even at your table yet, when he suggested just leaving and going back to his place. And the suggestive comments didn’t stop, till ten minutes later and you were wondering if he was even going to let you leave at the end of the night without putting up a fight. So you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your phone out and dialling Sammy’s number. But he didn’t answer. So you called again, and he didn’t answer. Four more times and you were about to hang up and get an Uber when the dial tone cuts out.
“He didn’t answer the first ten times, why would he answer now?” It’s Vince’s voice, annoyed but also distant and you’re pretty sure that means he’s in the middle of gaming.
“Where’s Sammy?”
“The shower,” Vince tells you, too preoccupied with what he was doing to even so much as question the six, back-to-back phone calls.
“Can you tell him to come pick me up as soon as he’s out of the shower?” You ask, sniffling as you feel an overwhelming wash of panic come over you. This meant you would have to go back and sit with that man for even longer. “Or, could you just go like knock on the door? Tell him to hurry…please?”
“What’s wrong?” Vince asks, his tone shifting slightly.
“I…he-he’s weird,” you mutter, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. “Creepy,” you add, making him aware that it wasn’t a matter of simply not clicking on a first date.
“Text me the restaurant you’re at.”
“What? Sammy knows,” you tell him.
“I’m coming to get you.”
You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. You hated burdening people, hated asking for help. But that was far outweighed by your anxiety about the man at the table on the other side of the restaurant. “Thank you, I’ll text it to you now,” you tell him, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up and texting the address to Vince.
’on my way’ Vince sends back immediately.
You spend another few minutes in the bathroom before heading out to the restaurant, slowly making your way to the table. “Hey, I just got a text from my friend. I have to leave,” you tell him, leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the drink you ordered but never even got a sip of.
Outside you stand near the entrance of the restaurant, not wanting to stray too far from the brightly lit entrance. You’re surprised when you see Vince’s car pull up in front of you. Not because you didn’t think he would show up, but because you weren’t expecting him to be there that quickly. Hurrying to the passenger’s side door you hop into his car, silent as you stare out the front window, pulling your seatbelt across your body.
“That bad?” Vince asks, putting his car back in drive and pulling away from the restaurant.
“Yes,” is all you’re able to mutter leaning back in your seat, elbow on the window sill as you rest you head in your hand.
“Too bad,” Vince comments, glancing over at you, “You look good tonight, sucks it was wasted on an asshole.”
Your cheeks get warm, palms sweaty, and you’re not sure why. All you can manage to do is glance over at Vince and mutter a simple, “thanks, I guess.”
The next thing you know you’re in a Dairy Queen drive through and Vince is looking over at you. “What do you want?”
“I didn’t…wait, what?” But Vince is pulling up to the speaker before you have any longer to question it so you tell him what you want and wait in silence till he pulls ahead. “I didn’t realize we were getting ice cream.”
“And we’re going to watch that shitty tv show you’re always trying to get Sammy to watch,” Vince tells you, clearly having already constructed a plan for how he was going to turn the night around for you.
“Thank you, Vince,” you whisper and he glances over, eyes meeting yours before shrugging casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was. It was a big deal. He had already gone out of his way to pick you up, something he didn’t need to do. Now he was committing to trying to cheer you up.
Before you know it you’re back at Sammy and Vince’s apartment and Sammy is lost beyond hope regarding the situation. “It’s okay,” you assured Sammy when he asked you about the six phone calls the second you walked through the front door. “Vince came to get me.”
“Why?” Sammy asks, glancing back and forth between the two of you.
“Because you have terrible timing to go have a shower.” Tugging your jacket off you hang it up on the hook by the door. “I should have listened to you, dating is just a bad idea.”
“Well I didn’t exactly say that,” Sammy mutters, following after you and Vince as you head towards the living room. “What happened?”
“My date was a creep, I called your phone…a few times, and Vince answered after he got annoyed with listening to it ring.”
“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince chimes in, flopping down onto the end of the couch.
Rolling your eyes you glance over at Vince, shaking your head. “Don’t lie, I heard how annoyed you were.”
“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince repeats, eyes locked on yours.
“Fine,” you comment, but you were still convinced it was a lie and he was just trying not to sound like an asshole after finding out about the situation. “We’re going to watch Selling Sunset, want to join?”
Sammy furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at Vince. “You’re going to watch Selling Sunset?” He asks, directing his question at Vince.
Walking over you sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Vince, pulling your legs and crossing them as you reach for the remote.
“Yeah,” Vince replies, looking over at Sammy while grabbing the remote for you and handing it to you.
Sammy stands in a stunned silence for a minute, staring at Vince in disbelief. He could barely ever convince Vince to let him pick a series and now here he was, willing to watch a reality tv show about Los Angeles real estate. “Okay,” Sammy finally mutters, settling into the love seat on the other side of the room, exchanging silent glances with you. Silent glances that asked, ‘what’s going on?’ But you couldn’t answer, verbally or silently, because you weren’t really sure where this behaviour was coming from with Vince.
A few episodes later and you decide to put Vince and Sammy, who were trying their best to seem like they actually cared about what was on the screen, out of their misery. “I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, handing the remote to Vince as you push yourself off the couch, stretching your arms over your head. “Thanks again, for everything tonight,” you tell Vince.
“Anytime,” he replies, watching as you walk out of the living room and into the guest room down the hall.
It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door and you look up from where you were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone. Sammy pushes the door open, taking two bounding steps before throwing himself onto your bed. “What happened tonight?” He asks, his tone a serious shift from his actions of throwing himself around like a ragdoll.
Shrugging you lock your phone, setting it down and adjusting higher on your pillow so you could see your brother without fully committing to actually sitting up. “My date was just creepy…he kept trying to get me to leave with him like 5 minutes into the date.”
Sammy visibly tenses up when he hears this, shifting to sit up as he looks down at you. “So you called Vince?”
“I called you,” you exclaim, laughing as you reach other, grabbing a pillow and swinging it towards him. “But you seemed to think the date was going to last longer than half an hour.”
“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells you, and you can tell that he really means it. Normally you were sure he wouldn’t care about not being able to pick you up at the exact moment you wanted him to. He was your brother after all, he cared, but he wasn’t sweet about it. This was just a different type of situation, you knew it, he knew it, and thankfully, Vince had figured that out too.
“It’s fine, I just won’t rely on you…ever again,” you joke.
“That’ll last like twenty minutes,” Sammy replies, laying back down along the foot of your bed. “Till you find a spider in your room and refuse to come back in till I kill it for you.”
“Don’t put that in the universe, that’s so mean to wish that upon me.”
You and Sammy continue talking till you’re about to drift off to sleep and he sneaks out of your room, like he did when you were six and had a nightmare.
A couple days later Sammy and Vince had to go on a five day road trip and you considered going home, brought up the idea to Sammy. He pointed out the fact that you had a key to the apartment, you had gotten comfortable there, and it was only five days. So you agreed to stay, relatively easily at that. Because if you were being honest, you missed being around Sammy, and you were happier there than you had been in awhile.
The morning they were leaving you were saying your goodbyes, hugging Sammy quickly. “Good luck, I’ll miss you. I promise I won’t throw any parties,” you joked. You were used to sad goodbyes with Sammy, after he would come home during the summer and you would have to say goodbye for months. This one felt so different though, knowing it was only a few days apart. It was comforting.
When you pulled away you looked over at Vince, hesitating a second before throwing your arms around him too. “Good luck,” you told him, his arms tight around your waist. It was different than your hug with Sammy, of course it would be, but you weren’t prepared for just how different. You weren’t prepared for the the scent of his cologne, the way he held you tight to his body, the warmth radiating from him, would make your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll miss you as well,” you added, playing it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn’t really a joke.
Vince had chuckled in response, your body absorbing the way his laughter rumbled through his body. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine with the quiet tone of his voice. He had pulled away, looking at you once more before the two of them headed out.
You went about your normal routine while they were gone but the quietness of the apartment was starting to get to you around day three, leaving you longing for not just your brother but Vince as well, to be back. So when Sammy told you the time they would be back you went all out, going grocery shopping and picking up all of Sammy’s favourite foods and the few you remember Vince mentioning liking. And you were halfway through cooking dinner for everyone when they got back from their trip.
“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, sautéing a pan full of vegetables, music playing loudly from the speaker on the counter a few feet away. “I’m making dinner, if you guys already ate I’m going to be sad.”
“We didn’t.” Shockingly it’s Vince who’s greets you first, walking up behind you and leaning over your shoulder to look into the pan.
“How was the flight home?” You ask, turning your head to glance up at Vince. He’s closer than you expected and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. You’re convinced it’s because you’re just glad to have people around again, and not because you had really started to like Vince.
“Pretty good,” Vince tells you, stepping to the side to lean against the counter beside the stove. “How was your week alone in my house?”
Rolling your eyes you set the spatula down beside the stove, looking up at him. “Fantastic, your bed is so much more comfortable than the one in the guest room.”
“Oh, really?” Vince chuckles. “I’m willing to share.”
You’re caught off guard by Vince’s comment, unable to come up with a witty response before Sammy is in the room as well. “What are you making?” Sammy asks, walking over and giving you a quick hug before immediately plugging his phone into the nearest outlet and unlocking his phone, typing quickly.
“Stir fry…who are you talking to?” You ask Sammy, your tone teasing.
Sammy shakes his head but his little smile tells you that it’s not nothing. “Ooh,” you laugh, stepping away from the stove to try to look at Sammy’s phone. But he pulls it away quickly and the next thing you know you’re wrestling for Sammy’s phone like you’re both teenagers again. “Just tell me,” you laugh, hand grasping for his phone as he pushes your arm back with his free hand.
“Her name is Anna,” Vince says.
Pulling back from Sammy you glance over at Vince, shocked at his willingness to let you in on Sammy’s business. “Oh,” you hum, picking up the spatula again to stir the vegetables in the pan. “So, who’s Anna?”
“A girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks,” Sammy tells you easily. There was never really any need to keep it a secret, he was just playing the part of an annoying older brother in trying to keep it a secret. “We went on a date a couple days before we left.”
“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”
“I actually didn’t think it would lead to anything,” Sammy confesses.
“Like Y/N’s dating life,” Vince quips.
You whip your head in Vince’s direction, gasping at his comment. “You’re an asshole,” you exclaim, laughing. “I’ll let you know, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted…I’m just not trying right now.”
“Seemed like you were trying,” Vince chuckles.
“I swear to god, Vince,” you mutter, wielding the spatula you were holding with a joking threat.
“Can one of you shut up so we don’t burn the house down, please,” Sammy chimes in and draws your attention back to the vegetables that were starting to stick to the pan. As you go back to finishing up dinner the boys continue on with their own conversations, discussing things that happened over the trip and the upcoming schedule for the week.
After you all finish dinner you’re back in the kitchen to tidy up and do some dishes, but Vince is at your side at the sink quickly after. Nudging you to the side Vince grabs the wash cloth from your hand. “I got it,” he tells you.
“I don’t mind,” you retort, not moving much further away from the beside the sink. “I’m sure you guys are tired.”
“I slept on the flight,” Vince informs you, running the cloth over a mixing bowl in the sink.
Huffing you step away from him, “fine.” Walking to the cupboard you grab the box of tea you bought a few days prior, taking a mug down as well as you turn the kettle on. “Want some tea?”
Vince chuckles, an obvious enough answer, but he follows it up with “no, thanks,” anyway. “So did you go on anymore dates while we were gone?”
Rolling your eyes you hop up onto the counter while you wait for your tea to steep, watching Vince do the dishes. “No, nobody here was to rescue me if it went poorly.”
“So what did you actually do the whole time we were gone?”
Shrugging you bring the tea to your lips, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Hung out with some friends a few times, explored the city, watched all your games.”
“Friends?”
“Yes, Vince, I’m capable of making friends,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Vince chuckles, glancing over at you. “I just mean, like, you’re just here visiting and you’re still making friends? Where did you meet them anyway?”
“The gym,” you inform him, your voice quiet and deflated. You didn’t really like to think about that fact, about the reality that you would have to make some kind of move soon. You couldn’t live in this vacation-like reality forever. No matter how much you wanted to.
After the dishes are done Vince heads to his computer to play video games and you head to the living room to watch some TV till Sammy was done unpacking and you could convince him to hang out with you and give you all the details about Anna.
And two days later Sammy was beyond glad that he had given you all the details about Anna when he sent you a panicky text. The boys had the day off and Sammy had gone out to run a few errands while you were hanging out at the house with Vince. ‘I told Anna I would cook her dinner at my place.’
‘that’s dumb, you can’t cook’ you replied quickly, sitting on the couch and watching Vince play video games. You were trying to be more involved with that after he had started watching the occasional episode of Selling Sunset with you.
‘that’s not the issue’ ‘I’ll figure that out’ ‘You and Vince can’t be there, it’ll be awkward’
Sighing you glance up from your phone screen to Vince. “Vince,” you call, standing up from the couch and making your way across the room. “We gotta go.”
“Where?” Vince mutters, not peeling his eyes off the screen in front of him.
“I don’t know,” you confess while sending Sammy a text to tell him you were on it, to give you twenty minutes and you’d be out. “Sammy is kicking us out.”
“What?” Vince asks, spinning in his chair once his game had ended.
“He needs the apartment for a date, now hurry up, we’re going out for awhile.”
Vince groans and sets his controller down, reluctantly pulling himself off the chair. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“I agreed on your behalf.” Walking into your room you grab a jacket, your wallet, and keys before hurrying back towards the door where Vince was already pulling on his shoes. “Have anything you needed to get done?” You ask him once you had your shoes on and you were on your way out the door behind Vince.
“I would have already been doing it.”
Rolling your eyes you reach forward and shove him playfully. “If you don’t stop being an asshole I’ll drop you off at the library for four hours.”
“It’s my car…and I’m driving.”
“No, please, let me drive,” you ask, shuffling quickly in front of him and spinning around so you were facing him. Sammy had given you permission to drive his car while he was out of town and you had loved exploring the city, not really knowing where you were going, just driving.
“No, I’ve seen you drive.” Vince keeps his hand folded firmly over his car keys, gazing down at you.
“That was one time,” you defend.
“One time we almost died.”
Rolling your eyes you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”
Suddenly Vince has his hands on your arms and he’s spinning you around, pushing you towards the car. “Get in the car,” his voice is filled with urgency and you notice Sammy pulling up towards the apartment parking lot.
Giggling at the whole situation you hop into his car, watching Sammy pull into his parking stall. Neither you or Vince had to bring up the idea of staying in the car and doing a little light-hearted spying, you were silently on board with the idea. You watch Sammy get out, trying to make it to the passenger’s side of the car to open Anna’s door but she’s already getting out and you watch as the awkwardly fumble around the door for a second. Both you and Vince glance over at each other at the same, bursting into laughter.
“No, but they are cute together,” you comment through your giggles, watching as they laugh off the exchange, Sammy closing the door behind her.
“He wouldn’t shut up about her over the trip.”
“That’s cute.” You watch as they head into the apartment building together before turning your attention back to Vince. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Vince turns his car on, putting it into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind.
“You must have someone you can’t shut up about…I mean, look at you,” you comment absentmindedly, not really thinking about how it would come across.
“Are you calling me hot, Y/N?”
“Well,” you hum, laughing as your cheeks redden slightly. “I think it’s like, objective, you know. Anyone would say you’re hot.”
“So you don’t personally find me hot?”
“Oh my god,” you exclaim, shaking your head as Vince simply chuckles. He was really trying his hardest to keep you from getting out of that one easily. “Where are we going?”
“The library, I’m leaving you there,” Vince jokes.
“Great, books are more entertaining than you anyway,” you quip.
“I was going to take you to get a coffee but maybe not now.”
“No,” you whine, laughing. Vince had clearly noticed when all three of you would get in the car to go anywhere the first time thing out of your mouth was ‘can we get a coffee’? “I take it back then.”
So a few minutes later you’re in the drive through at Starbucks and you don’t even need to tell Vince your order because he has it memorized, which you’re surprised by. He pays for your coffee even though you insist that you can buy it. Then you’re driving again and you end up parked in front of a shoe store.
“I actually did have something I needed to get done,” Vince tells you, chuckling.
“Oh, so you were just being rude for no good reason then,” you comment, hoping out of the car after him and walking towards the store with Vince. “Does this mean I get to help you pick shoes?”
“Uh,” Vince mutters, glancing down to your shoes. “No.”
“Take me to the library, you’re so mean,” you whine, playfully pushing his arm.
Vince laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand as you push him. “Come on,” he huffs jokingly, pulling you along into the store. And you suddenly can’t focus on anything but his hand, the way it so easily wrapped around yours, warm and secure. But it makes you nervous, the way it causes butterflies to fill your stomach, so you pull it away quickly.
You’re in the shoe store much longer than you though, Vince taking an excessively long amount of time to make a decision. But you don’t mind because in all honesty, you simply liked being around Vince. Your next stop is for dinner and Vince picks the restaurant, still acting as an unofficial tour guide for you.
By the time dinner is over you had expected to receive a text from Sammy, letting you know that it was fine to come home. But you get nothing, so you and Vince go get ice cream and drive to a lookout, listening to music and eating your dessert. Your conversation flows easily and you would happily have sat there for hours with Vince, talking and joking. But you get a text message from Sammy shortly after telling you he was taking Anna home.
“We’re safe to go back,” you tell Vince, pulling your seatbelt back on.
“Too bad,” Vince mutters.
“What?”
Vince glances across the interior of the car at you, silent for a second as he tugs his seatbelt on. “It’s just been more fun than I thought this would be.”
“I don’t know how to take that,” you laugh. It was nice to hear he had been having a good time, but you didn’t know if you should be upset that he was anticipating it not being a very good time.
Vince chuckles, not saying anything else about it as the two of you drive back to the apartment. You’re back before Sammy and you head for the living room, Vince following after you and not putting saying anything as you pick the movie for the night.
‘going to get an uber now’
You had gone out with your new group of friends for the night, one drink turning to two and two turning to a count you had lost long ago. You had been texting Vince all night, though it wasn’t anything new. The two of you had fallen into a routine of texting almost anytime you were apart. He had picked up on your dwindling sobriety throughout the night, as almost anyone reading your messages could have. So when you told him you were getting an Uber he was quick to reply.
‘I’ll come get you, where are you?’
So you sent him your address, you and your friends paying your bills before heading outside for everyone to wait for their rides. Shockingly it’s Vince who shows up first and your friends are quick to make comments about how none of their real boyfriends were that quick to get there. You brushed it all off, making excuses that he was just a good friend, that he was probably speeding anyway, that you didn’t live that far. Anything to not admit the fact that you and Vince might have a connection that was becoming more than just friendly.
“Hi,” you greet, cheerful as you climb into Vince’s car. It was so unlike the first time he picked you up and Vince was grateful for that, not just because you were in a better mood but also because it meant you hadn’t been out on a date.
“How was your night?” Vince laughs.
“Good,” you giggle, looking over at him as he drives back to the apartment. And you can’t help but think about how attractive he truly was, how he made your heart beat just a little faster. He was your brother’s best friend and you knew the feelings you were having towards him were complicated. “Yours?”
“Probably not as good as yours,” he jokes, taking note of the way you couldn’t stop smiling, primarily a result of the alcohol in your system. But there was also a part of you that was just happy to be around him.
“So anyway, Michael has been staying late at work all the time and Lily is starting to get suspicious about it,” you ramble as you walk through the apartment door with Vince. It’s quiet in the apartment and you realize you hadn’t texted Sammy in awhile, wondering if he was in bed. “Sammy?” You call, stumbling slightly over the edge of the doormat.
Vince wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he laughs. “He’s in bed,” Vince tells you. “What do you need?”
“Nothing,” you admit, clutching onto the arm Vince had wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to say hi to him.”
Vince chuckles and nods. “I think you should go to bed too.” He gently guides you further into the apartment, reaching over to turn the deadbolt on the door while keeping one arm around you, as if you couldn’t stand on your own.
“Hey, Vince,” you whisper although you didn’t need to get his attention.
“Yes, Y/N?” He steps closer now, looking down at you in the silent apartment, waiting to hear what your drunk mind was coming up with.
“Thank you, for everything, for letting me stay here this long. I promise I’ll leave soon. I know you didn’t sign up to have two roommates.”
Vince smiles softly, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. I like having you here. I don’t, you know, want you to leave if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh,” you whisper, processing the idea that you weren’t annoying Vince with your extended stay. “I mean it though, thank you.”
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Vince says, changing the subject as he guides you through the apartment to the guest bedroom. He hovers near the doorway, clearly wanting to make sure you were settled in bed before leaving you.
You knew he was there, you knew you should ask him to look away if he wanted to stay till you were in bed, but you don’t. Instead you simply pull your shirt up over your head, exposing a lacy black bra you had worn for no real reason except that it made you feel confident. Shimmying your jeans down your legs you toss them aside carelessly. You don’t even look over at Vince as you reach behind you to unhook that bra, missing the way he stood there, stunned and frozen with his eyes on you. You let your bra fall to the ground, your body angled away from Vince as you grab a t-shirt from the dresser.
“Y/N?” Sammy’s voice calls through the apartment.
“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching the shirt to your bare chest. Your wide eyes look over at Vince who comically steps back and forth between the wide-open bedroom door, clearly not knowing what the correct move was. “Just close it.” And Vince does exactly that, from the inside. “Vince,” you groan.
“You told me to,” he defends, his hand still resting on the doorknob.
“From outside,” you tell him. “Now this just looks…weird.”
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sammy calls through the closed bedroom door.
“Yeah,” you call back, spinning around to leave your back facing Vince as you pull your t-shirt on, grateful for the size and length of it. “Just getting ready for bed.”
“Okay, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
Home. Your eyes flick over to Vince, trying to see if he caught onto the same, subtle insinuation. But he still just looked panicky as he stands beside the closed door. “Yeah, I’m just going to bed now.”
“Can I come in and say goodnight?”
Your heart begins to race as stare at Vince in silence for a second. “Yeah.”
You couldn’t say no, he would immediately know that something was wrong. Sammy pushes the door open a second later and Vince looks to you in panic. “How was-,” Sammy begins to ask when he spots Vince, looking back and forth between the two of you. “What’s going on?”
You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty. You hadn’t done anything with Vince, it wasn’t a lie to say that nothing was happening, that he was just making sure you got to bed safely. Maybe the reason you felt so guilty was because that wasn’t all you wanted to happen. “Vince picked me up, was just making sure I got to bed safely.”
Sammy nods slowly, not seeming convinced. “Well I got it from here,” he mutters to Vince, nodding towards the still open door. Vince glances back at you one more time before leaving, the silence in the room painful. “What’s going on?” Sammy repeats once it’s just you and him.
“Nothing,” you exclaim, flopping down onto your bed and climbing under the covers, hoping to make it obvious that you didn’t have anything else to say.
“You two are getting really close,” Sammy points out. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”
“Yes,” you huff, dramatically yanking your blankets higher up around your shoulders. “Go back to bed.”
“Don’t have to be so moody,” Sammy grumbles, turning off your light and closing the door behind him as he leaves your room. Once he’s gone you lay awake for most of the night, your mind racing with thoughts of Vince. Thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be feeling towards him but the more you tried to think of anything other than him the more vivid the thoughts became till your mind eventually silenced itself completely and you drifted to sleep.
“I’m spending the night at Anna’s place,” Sammy told you a few days later as he was grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door.
Giggling you glance up from the book you were reading, shooting him a knowing look.
“Don’t be weird,” he comments, chuckling.
“What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” you joke, feigning innocence.
“I don’t know where Vince is, he left while you were at the gym, don’t know when he’ll be back,” Sammy informs.
“Have fun tonight,” you call as he walks out the front door.
A few hours later you’ve migrated to the kitchen, finishing up baking some cookies while you were trying to figure out how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening.
“Hey.”
Jumping you whirl around to face the direction of that the sudden voice comes from. Bringing your hand to your chest over your racing heart you laugh in relief when you see it’s just Vince. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry,” Vince chuckles, reaching over and taking one of the cookies off the cooling rack on the counter. “Where’s Sammy?”
“He’s at Anna’s place for the night,” you explain, leaning against the counter. “Are they good? It’s a new recipe.”
“Yeah, really good. So we’re alone tonight?” Vince asks, elbows on the counter as he leans against it, eyes focused on you.
“Can’t believe he left us without supervision,” you joke, pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven before turning it off.
“What do you want to do?”
“Movie night?”
“Sure,” Vince agrees, shrugging as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s go pick up dinner first.”
After a quick trip to the grocery store and your favourite sushi restaurant you’re back at the apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine while Vince was already opening up the boxes of sushi. “Want some?” You ask Vince, gesturing to the wine.
“Uh,” he hums before shaking his head. “I’ll pass on that,” he chuckles, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer for himself.
“Should have figured,” you giggle, putting the white wine back into the fridge.
In the living room you two settle onto the couch to have dinner and pick the first movie of the night. Halfway through the second movie you’ve lost your focus on the plot, eyes on your phone as you curl into the corner of the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed.
“What is more interesting than this movie?” Vince questions, gesturing to the tv and the movie he had picked that was playing on it.
Glancing up you roll your eyes playfully. “Almost anything.” Scooting down the couch you settle in beside Vince, letting him see your phone screen.
And within seconds the movie is long forgotten as he chuckles at a meme you scroll by. The transition from Instagram to TikTok is quick and so is the movement from you sitting beside Vince to you being tucked under his arm and leaning into his side. You’re both giggling at the short videos and the time slips by quickly, the credits on the tv rolling and reminding you of the fact that you had planned a movie night. “Do I get to pick the next one?”
Vince reluctantly hands you the remote, wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. His body is warm and his embrace is comforting and you know you shouldn’t want to stay like this with him forever, but you do.
The next movie is more interesting but you find it just as hard to focus on with the way you were wrapped up in Vince’s arms. You’re not even sure what compels you to look up at Vince, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved. But he notices and turns his attention to you a second later. “What?” He asks, voice low and rough in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Nothing,” you whisper, barely able to make any sound come from your mouth as your cheeks get hot. And you want to say the flushing is from the wine but it only started when Vince’s eyes landed on your and you know he wouldn’t believe your lie.
“Are you sure?”
You swallow hard, shifting slightly towards him. “I don’t know.”
Vince’s lips curl into a soft smile, eyes lingering on your lips as he reaches forward to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “Then just show me what you’re thinking.”
It’s an invitation and you know he’s saying it because he already knows exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s risky and you both know that, too scared to make the move when the potential of it ending poorly is so high. But you can’t hold back any longer. So you lean forward, just enough for him to get the message and he takes over, hand around the back of your head as he leans over and kisses you.
And he kisses you like he’s making every second worth it if things do end poorly. When you pull back your mind is racing a million miles an hour but your body is begging to do it again. You wait a second, hoping Vince would say something. But he doesn’t, and you don’t either, and you can’t think of anything better to do than lean back in and press your lips back against his. This time it’s heated in a way that you had never felt before and you’re climbing into his lap, hips grinding down on him. You weren’t aware of just how badly you needed him to touch you until that very minute when his lips brushed against yours.
“Are you going to actually share your bed with me tonight?” You whisper against his lips when you finally pull back.
“I would’ve shared my bed with you any night you wanted.” Vince grasps your hips, gently pushing you away from him and helping you onto your feet before standing up with you. “Are you sure?”
Smiling you lean up, kissing him quickly again. “Yes, of course.”
Vince wraps his large hand around yours, slowly walking you through the apartment. As if he didn’t want to seem too eager, careful and tentative around the whole situation.
But once you’re in his room, on his bed, Vince is far less careful and tentative. And the night ends with you feeling barely able to move, body having ridden through more highs in one go than you had ever felt.
As soon as you’re done Vince goes back to being careful, considerate as the two of you shower together and he lets you pick out a t-shirt before curling up under the covers of his bed.
“Should we have done that?” You finally whisper after laying next to Vince with your head on his chest in silence for what felt like ages.
“I’m not sure,” Vince admits with an obvious reluctance, running his hand along your bare arm.
“Sammy was already suspicious of us.”
“I figured,” Vince tells you, sighing. “After the night I picked you up?”
“Yeah…I told him it was nothing…I mean, like, I know it was nothing, but-.”
“It wasn’t,” Vince interrupts, pulling you a little closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing to me, Y/N. If I just wanted a quick fuck I definitely wouldn’t pick my best friend and roommate’s sister, no matter how hot you are.”
“Oh,” is all you can say, caught off guard. “Well then, what does it mean?”
Vince is quiet for too long after you ask, the only way you could tell he was still awake in the dark room was his hand still running up and down your arm. “I have feelings for you, but other than that…I don’t know,” Vince finally mutters.
“I think we need to give it some time, not tell Sammy this happened yet.”
“Just go back to the way things were?”
“Yeah,” you whisper.
Vince moves his hands to your waist, pulling you on top of him.
“Vince,” you exclaim, hands clambering for support till they find his bare shoulders, holding you up as you look down at his silhouette below you.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Vince chuckles, his thumbs running along your upper thighs, large hands now wrapped around the backs of them.
“I think you can,” you assure him, leaning down to press your lips to his. But the fact that you could feel him getting hard again makes you a little wary about whether he really could. “Maybe,” you whisper, moving your hips back as you reach down, wrapping around his length.
“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back on the pillow. And the last thing you had expected when you crawled into Vince’s bed after the first few rounds was to be doing it again. But you were making up for lost time. It’s slower this time, both of your tired bodies just searching for another release. And you find it, easier than normal, on top of Vince still in his t-shirt, panties simply pushed to the side.
When you finish Vince is quick to help you get cleaned up again, letting you remain collapsed on his bed. You can’t stop your heart from fluttering with excitement with him, at how considerate and caring he was. And when he finally settles back down you curl back into his side. “We need to agree on something.”
“Alright,” Vince mutters apprehensively.
“We can’t hook up when Sammy is here, it’s too risky.”
“Fine,” Vince finally agrees after a couple minutes of contemplation. The two of you drift to sleep very shortly after.
Your eyes flutter open to a gentle shaking of your shoulder. “Hey, babe, you have to wake up,” Vince says, voice quiet. “Sammy and I have practice in a couple hours, he’s going to be home soon.”
Groaning you roll away from him, head buried in his pillow. “It’s too early.”
“I know,” Vince chuckles sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand along your arm. “You’re the one who doesn’t want your brother to find out.”
“Don’t act like you want him to know you railed his sister the first time he left us alone,” you mumble, still half asleep.
“When you put it that way,” Vince chuckles, head whipping towards the bedroom door when he hears the sound of the front door closing.
“Shit,” you whisper, suddenly fully awake as you sit up completely straight.
“Just stay here, I’ll tell him you haven’t come out of you room yet this morning,” Vince suggests.
Nodding you run your hands through your messy hair, anxiety creeping up on you. If you were going to tell Sammy anything at this point you would rather just admit that you and Vince had feelings for each other, not that you spent the night in his bed.
“Don’t worry, it’s believable. It’s not like you don’t normally sleep in till one in the afternoon.”
Scoffing you roll your eyes, flopping back onto Vince’s bad. “Whatever,” you grumble. “Text me when you two are gone,” you mutter, glad your phone had been in your pocket when you made your way to Vince’s room the night before.
And when you finally get a text from Vince saying they were gone you pull yourself out of bed, making it behind you before wandering out of the bedroom. The apartment is so quiet and you make yourself some coffee, still just in Vince’s t-shirt. Something about it feels so right, so comfortable. After making a coffee you settle down on one of the barstools at the counter in the kitchen, opening your laptop and navigating to Indeed and before you’re even fully processing what you’re doing you’ve sent out a handful of resumes to jobs in St. Louis.
After you finish applying to jobs you move on to getting ready for the day. When Sammy and Vince finally get home you feel the weight of so many secrets on your chest. Of not telling Sammy about you and Vince, of not telling Sammy and Vince about applying for jobs in St. Louis.
“How was your night?” You ask Sammy as he walks into the kitchen, looking up over the top of your laptop.
“Good,” Sammy replies, grabbing himself a snack from the fridge. “How was yours?”
“Good,” you reply simply, looking back down at your computer.
“Up late?” Looking back up you stare at Sammy for a second, feeling like he was trying to catch you in a lie. “I mean, you were still in bed when I left this morning.”
Nodding you pick up your mug, shrugging. “TikTok is pretty addicting,” you comment, brushing it off as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going grocery shopping, do you have anything in particular that you need?”
“Just the regular stuff we keep in the house,” Sammy shrugs, not wanting to have to actually think about it.
Rolling your eyes you close your laptop and slide off the stool you were sitting on. “Really helpful, can I borrow your car?”
Sammy groans loudly. “What if I wanted to go out?”
“Well do you?”
“I’ll just take you,” Vince chimes in, walking into the room.
Glancing over your eyes linger on Vince’s for a second, wanting so badly to be able to say something or hug him, something…anything. “Thanks,” you finally mutter, realizing you needed to say something and not just stand there and stare at him.
“Want to go now?”
“Yeah, sure,” you agree, gathering your things and pulling on a hoodie on your way out the door. Once you’re outside you glance behind you and up at Vince. “So, since when are you so interested in grocery shopping?”
“Since it means being with you…away from your brother,” Vince chuckles, hands on your waist, tugging you to stop and pulling you into him. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, your head tipped back and to the side, fingers clutching at his arm.
“You’re not being very secretive,” you giggle, pulling back and looking around the front parking lot of the apartment building.
“Fine, I’ll wait till we’re in the car.”
Rolling your eyes you get into the passenger’s side of Vince’s car. “We’re going to get groceries…that’s it.”
You drive to the closest grocery story and head inside with Vince, pushing the cart down almost every aisle, the two of you talking and making jokes the whole time. It’s such a mundane task, grocery shopping, but somehow doing it with Vince makes it enjoyable and fun.
Back at the apartment you lug an armload of groceries inside, seeing Sammy sitting on the couch, xbox controller in this hands. “Thanks for the help,” you call to him sarcastically.
Sammy chuckles, barely glancing in your direction. “You’ve got Vince.”
Your heart beats a little faster at that comment, dropping the bags onto the counter and looking over at Vince. You know that he didn’t miss the comment either by the smirk on his face, the way he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist. “See, he’s already accepted it,” Vince whispers jokingly.
“Shut up,” you giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push him away and turn around to begin putting groceries away. Vince continues to make subtle moves, sliding his hand along your lower back as he walks by to put a box of crackers into the cupboard, stepping up behind you to take the can of chickpeas that you were struggling to put onto the top shelf out of your hand and doing it for you. It takes you two forever to finally put everything away and once you do it’s time to start making dinner. “Are you going to help me or just be in my way?” You tease.
“I know you like having me around.”
Shaking your head you look down at the recipe on your phone, unable to argue against that. You really didn’t want Vince to leave, even if he was really just getting in your way. Because you liked Vince, a lot more than you should.
A few days later you received a call from one of the businesses you applied to asking you to come in for an interview, to which you easily agreed. It was during another four day span of Vince and Sammy being gone so you were able to get ready and go for your interview without any questions. There was something about admitting to the fact that you were trying to find a job in St. Louis that scared you. Perhaps it was simply because it was a little crazy. You would need to find a job willing to arrange a visa for you, you would need to find your own apartment, and quite frankly, you probably just hadn’t thought it through enough. But you didn’t want to leave either, you were having a good time here with your brother and Vince, although you were trying to convince yourself that Vince had nothing to do with the decision.
The interview went well and the next morning you got a call with a job offer. You accepted it quickly, not just because it meant you could stay in St. Louis but because it was also a job you were more than interested in.
Sammy and Vince get home later that afternoon and you pull Sammy into the living room. “I have some news.”
“Okay?” Sammy mutters, eyebrows furrowed, hands folded nervously over his knees as he sits on the edge of the couch.
“I got a job.”
“Oh, congratulations,” Sammy says, the news processing in his head as you watch his body language sink a little. “Does this mean you’re going back home?”
Shaking your head you fidget with a piece of thread on your hoodie sleeve. You weren’t sure why you were nervous to tell him that you had found a job there. “It’s here.”
Sammy has his arms around you quickly, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug. “You’re staying here?”
Laughing you pull back from him, staring up at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it. “Yes…I mean, I’ll obviously get my own place and car and everything but I’m going to be in the city.”
“What’s going on?” Vince asks, walking into the living room.
“I got a job here,” you tell him, voice quiet and apprehensive. You were a little worried that Vince wouldn’t be happy, that maybe he had only been into you because he figured you would be leaving, that it was a short term thing.
“Here? Like, you’re staying in St. Louis…for good?”
Nodding slowly you glance down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“Congratulations,” he tells you, walking over and pulling you into a hug.
“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling back to look up at Vince, trying to read his expression. Unfortunately you come up with nothing, sighing as you step away from him.
It’s not till much later that night when you even get the chance to talk to him more, Sammy barely leaving your side as he excitedly looked through apartment listings with you, even though he assured you that there was no rush for you to move out.
Once everyone had gone to bed you sneak out of your room and down the hallway to Vince’s bedroom, pushing it open slightly. “Vince?” You whisper, trying your hardest not to wake Sammy up in the process.
“Hey, babe,” Vince says softly, making your heart flutter so easily. “Are you going to come in?”
Slipping through the door you shut it softly behind you, fumbling through the dark bedroom to Vince’s bed. “Hey,” you mumble, climbing onto the empty side of the bed and sitting with you legs crossed, watching Vince sit up and lean against the headboard.
“What’s wrong?”
How he knew so quickly that you were worried about something was beyond your comprehension. Normally you weren’t easy to read but Vince saw right through it. “I just…if you thought this was something different because I was going to be leaving, I totally get that. We can go back to just being friends…or not, if you don’t want. We don’t have to tell Sammy, I can move into my own apartment and we can pretend this didn’t happen, it’s fine,” you ramble.
“Y/N,” Vince says quietly, reaching over and placing his hands around your waist, guiding you closer as you slide onto your knees. “I like you…I have feelings for you. I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.”
“I just thought, I don’t know. Your reaction earlier wasn’t what I expected.”
Vince pulls you over his lap, hands running along your thighs. “Because you don’t want Sammy to know about us and I didn’t want him to be suspicious if I seemed too happy about it.”
“Oh,” you whisper, sliding your hands along his bare chest, resting them on his shoulders.
Vince chuckles, pulling you closer and leaning up. “I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but I was hoping you would look for a job here,” Vince admits before pressing his lips to yours. And you kiss him back eagerly, arms around Vince’s shoulders.
Grinding your hips down into Vince you feel him already getting hard. And you needed him, more than you had ever felt you needed someone in your life.
“Our agreement,” Vince mutters against your lips.
You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel how hard he was below you, can feel every little shift of his fingers along your skin. “Vince, please,” you whimper.
“Fuck, you can’t say it like that and expect me not to cave,” Vince groans, hands on the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up over your head swiftly. And it comes off easily, your lack of a bra leaving it easy for Vince to immediately bring his lips to your chest.
Tipping your head back you close your eyes, every single kiss, flick of his tongue over your nipples sends waves of anticipation through your body. “Vince,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth against him, desperate for some kind of contact.
Reaching down Vince slides your pyjama shorts down your legs as you move from one leg to the other, helping him take them off. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers up along your folds towards your clit. He eases his way towards it, circling around your clit till your nails are digging into his back and your body is writhing in desperation. When he finally gets to your clit the wash of pleasure is enough to bring a quiet cry of relief from your lips.
“Fuck, I love hearing you, but I need you to be quiet,” Vince mutters in your ear as he brushes gentle circles over your clit. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”
All you can manage to do is nod and hum out a muffled “mhm.”
“Good girl,” Vince mutters, replacing his fingers on your clit with his thumb, fingers travelling down towards your entrance, one finger sliding inside of you. You’re trying your hardest to stay quiet, head dropping down to Vince’s shoulder as you bite down on your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you whisper a few minutes later, a few muffled moans slipping from your lips as you reach your high.
Coming down from it you stay on Vince’s lap, pulling your head away from his shoulder to look into Vince’s eyes. Remaining where you were you reach down, hand guiding Vince towards your entrance, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you sink down onto him. Vince groans, hands on your hips as he shifts further down the bed. It’s unbelievably quiet in the room as the two of you find a rhythm, both of you fighting with every ounce of your self-control to remain quiet. You stay on top of Vince the entire time, both of you too scared to be too loud to switch positions. But it doesn’t take you long to reach your second wave of pleasure, your body already sensitive from the first. And it’s only a couple seconds after that Vince reaches his, groaning quietly as his grip on your hips tightens. When you climb off of him and collapse on the bed beside him Vince hops up, grabbing a towel for you and returning quickly to start the cleanup process.
After using the washroom you return to Vince’s bed, curling up at his side, head on his chest. “I shouldn’t sleep in here.”
Vince sighs, running his hand along your back. “We’re going to have to tell him.”
“Do we really, Romeo?” You joke, tugging the blankets up higher on your body despite the fact that you had just told Vince you weren’t spending the night.
There’s a few minutes of silence, Vince’s hand pausing on your back as if all his energy was being funnelled to his brain. “What?”
“Romeo and Juliet,” you tell him.
“You think I’m going to get your Shakespeare references?”
“At least you knew it was Shakespeare.”
Vince chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not that stupid.”
“Well…,” you giggle, tipping your head back to look at Vince.
“Oh, really?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and flipping you around onto your back. He hovers over top of you, pinning your wrists down. “That was kinda rude.”
“Too bad I’m actually into this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you bite gently on your bottom lip.
Vince groans quietly, rolling off of you and flopping back onto his back. “Why is everything you do so hot?”
“Kinda glad you think that way, seems like it gives me an upper hand.”
“Looking like that you definitely have the upper hand, for sure,” Vince chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. And the two of you continue talking, the whole time you were fully intending to make your way back to your own bed.
But you don’t ever make it out of Vince’s room that night.
“Get your lazy ass up.” You’re startled away by a voice yelling through Vince’s door, fist knocking a minute later. “We’re going to be late for practice again, enculé.”
“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, grasping at the blankets on Vince’s bed yanking them up over your bare torso as you sit up. “Vince,” you whisper, shaking his somehow still sleeping form.
“Hmm?” He hums, rolling over to face you. “What’s wrong?”
But before you have the chance to say anything Vince’s door flies open and your eyes meet with Sammy’s. You watch him visibly try to process what was going on in front of him, eyes wide and fists clenched.
“Sammy,” you begin, watching him step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sammy, wait, I…it’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” Sammy counters, obviously knowing that it was exactly what it looked like. But he’s already on his way back out of the bedroom and you make a move to stand up but Vince grabs your arm before you have the chance.
“Give him a second to process,” Vince suggests, glancing down at the way you were clutching his blankets to your naked body. “And maybe put some real clothes on.”
Nodding you crawl out of Vince’s bed, pulling on the pyjama’s you were wearing when you showed up in his room the night before. Vince gets up a minute later, pulling on a pair of jeans a hoodie, glancing at his phone. “We are going to be late,” he mutters, his back to you as he gathers his keys and wallet, jamming them into his pockets.
“Vince, I’m scared.”
Vince turns around quickly, eyes on you. You had your arms wrapped tight around your body, eyes teary. “Hey,” Vince says gently, walking over and pulling you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay, everything is going to be fine.”
“Did you see him? He looked so upset…he’s going to be mad, Vince. I can’t, I can’t handle him being mad at me.”
You didn’t even realize you were crying till Vince pulls back, reaching up and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “He won’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. I’m the one who started this.”
You’re caught off guard by this, laughing softly. “That’s a lie.”
“It’s not.”
“I kissed you on the couch,” you remind him, your hands wrapped around his forearms as you stare up into his eyes.
“I came home early and skipped going for drinks with the guys that night because Sammy told me he was going out for the night. I was hoping for what happened that night.”
You’re caught off guard by his confession, speechless and frozen in place.
Glancing over you see Sammy step into the doorway, slowly pulling away from Vince “We have to go.”
“Yeah,” Vince mutters, reaching over and grabbing your hand, squeezing it as he steps out of the bedroom with Sammy.
You watch them walk away in silence, not leaving Vince’ bedroom till you hear the front door close. Slowly making your way out of the bedroom you try to busy yourself with tidying the apartment to keep yourself thinking too much about the situation.
“Y/N,” Sammy’s voice calls later in the day, walking into the living room where you were sitting on your laptop, scrolling through apartment listings.
“Hey,” you say quietly, looking up at him. Reaching forward you slowly close your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “How was practice?”
“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the love seat beside the couch you were on. Sammy watches you glance in direction of the hallway. “He went to Jordan’s place.”
“Oh,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink a little.
“It wasn’t his idea,” Sammy tells you, noticing how disappointed you seemed. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Oh,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. Your brother had always known the details of your relationships, telling him all about your crushes, dates, when boyfriends would upset you. This had been the first time you kept something like that a secret from him, and now you were regretting it. Perhaps if you had told him earlier, when you first started to develop feelings for Vince things would have been different. But now it seemed like you two knew there was something wrong with what you were doing, needing to keep it a secret.
The silence in the room is heavy, and it feels painful as you fidget in your seat. Sammy staring at you for a few minutes before finally saying anything. “Why?”
Staring down at the ground you try to come up with an answer to his question. “I like him,” you whisper, shrugging.
“Why him? Did you not even think about what’ll happen when things end between you two?”
“That’s really optimistic,” you mumble, eyes focused on your fingers as you pick a few pieces of lint off of your jeans.
“Well what?” Sammy asks, voice raising in frustration. “You going to marry him?”
Finally looking up at Sammy you roll your eyes, sighing loudly.
“God, now I see why mom got so mad every time you rolled your eyes,” Sammy mutters. “Why the hell are you even rolling your eyes?”
“Because I’m not even thinking about marriage…with Vince or anyone else. That’s crazy,” you reply, your voice getting louder and louder with each word.
“So you’re going to break up with him, or he’s going to break up with you and then my friendship with him is going to be fucked,” Sammy snaps. “You really didn’t consider that? That you’re ruining my friendship with Vince…and for what?”
“Stop yelling at me,” you yell back, hoping up from the couch and staring down at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know what to say, I like him.” Sniffling you reach up, wiping away tears from underneath your eyes.
“I’m not okay with it.”
Wrapping your arms tight around your body you try to compose yourself, try to stop the tears from continuously flooding your eyes. You hated that you cried during conflict, hated that when it was conflict with Sammy that reaction was always heightened. “What do you want me to do then?”
Sammy glares up at you, shaking his head. “You already fucked it up, it’s too late for you to do anything.”
It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach, physical pain radiating through your body in response to his words. But you can’t think of a single defence for yourself. “Fuck you,” is all you manage to croak out before turning around and hurrying in the direction of the front door.
“Where are you going?” Sammy calls, following after you.
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, yanking on a jacket you had hanging up on a hook beside the door. “Does it really matter? I mean, I’m such a fuck up anyway.”
“I didn’t say that,” Sammy exclaims, watching you pull on a pair of shoes. “Can you just stop? We’re not kids anymore, you can’t just fucking run away.”
“No, we’re not,” you snap, standing up straight again. “So why are you treating me like one?”
“Because it’s my goddamn life you’re messing with.”
“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” you whisper, tears now streaming down your face with no chance of you being able to contain them. “I’m sorry I developed feelings for your friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, I’m sorry I acted on it…I’m sorry I came here, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re reaching for the doorknob a moment later, yanking the door open.
“Don’t say that, stop, Y/N, where the fuck are you even going to go?” Sammy asks, reaching for your arm which you pull away from him before he has the chance to grab you. “You can’t just wander around alone crying."
“Well it’s not like this apartment is feeling overly hospitable right now,” you tell him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I never would have thought you would be such an asshole over me falling for a guy. I’m sorry he’s your friend, I wasn’t trying to make that happen. In fact, I was trying not to. But you don’t really care, do you? Because the situation isn’t perfect for you so why should you even try to accept it?”
With that you leave the apartment. You take an Uber to one of your new friend’s houses, thankful that she had replied before your Uber even got there that she was free and wanted to hang out. After a brief explanation of what was going on you settle down on her couch, her puppy curled up in your lap as you two talk, able to get your mind off of the situation with Sammy and Vince, even if only for a short period of time.
You two order take out and lay on the couch, sending each other dumb tiktoks for the majority of the night.
‘Are you okay?’ It’s a text from Vince and you switch from the tiktok app to your messages.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at my friend’s place. You’re home now?’
“Vince texted, I think he just got home,” you tell your friend, sitting up on her couch with a sigh.
“Did he say anything about the situation?” She asks, turning her head to look over at you.
Shaking your head you look down at your screen, watching the three dots inside a text bubble, waiting to get the text he was typing. ‘Yes, when are you coming back?’
‘I don’t know. I guess soon, I just don’t know what to do.’
‘About what?’
‘Sammy’ ‘Us’
‘Can I come pick you up?’
And twenty minutes later you’re leaving your friend’s house, promising to keep her updated on the situation.
“Hey,” you greet as you get into Vince’s car, glancing over at him while pulling on your seatbelt.
“Hey.” Vince reaches over, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “How did it go with Sammy?”
“Not great,” you admit, placing your hand on top of Vince’s, sliding your fingers between his and folding your hand over his. “Did you guys talk?”
“A bit.” Vince says, pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment. “What did he say to you?”
“That I’m messing up his life,” you mumble, your eyes filling with tears. “Basically I fucked up and whatever the fallout from this is it’s all my fault.”
Vince’s hand clenches around the steering wheel as he drives with no particular destination in mind. Of course Sammy was one of his best friends and that wasn’t about to change over one fight. But friends didn’t always agree on everything, didn’t always get along. And by the way Vince’s jaw was clenched, eyes glaring through the windshield in front of him, it was clear that was the case. “That’s such bullshit. You know that’s not true...right?”
“What if it’s not?” you croak. “Are we being selfish? Your friendship with Sammy, jeopardizing that when this ends?”
“It doesn’t have to end poorly and ruin anything,” Vince points out. “It doesn’t have to end,” he adds.
“Vince,” you whisper, glancing down at your hands folded together. How perfect they fit, how comfortable you were with him. “That’s crazy to say right now.”
“I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “So it might not last forever, but no matter what happens we’ve already started...whatever this is, so why does it matter when it ends?”
You can’t really argue with that point. Your options are end it now or give it time, see how things play out. “But…Sammy,” you whisper.
“Give him time.”
The two of you drive around aimlessly for a little while longer till he pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building, glancing over at you. “You okay?
Nodding you pull your hand from his, resting it on the console as you lean across it and Vince is quick to react, bringing his hand to the side of you face to cup your cheek. His lips are gentle but eager, moving with intent but not pushing too far. And for a moment it feels like everything else has faded away, worries and stress blurring till they’re no longer visible anymore. “How do we do this?” You whisper, pulling back from Vince.
“Do what?” He asks, sitting back in his seat, body angled towards you.
“Deal with being in there, together, with Sammy.”
Vince is quiet for a moment, tapping at his steering wheel. “We’ll just figure it out when we’re in there, see what he’s like.”
Nodding slowly you open the car door, slipping out and walking towards the apartment with Vince. With every step closer you feel a growing anxiety, each and every possibility running through your mind. Would Sammy still be mad? Would he try to pick up the argument right where it ended? Would it be worse if he just decided to ignore it? Would you all need to sit down and have a conversation like an awkward family meeting nobody wants to be a part of?
When you step into the apartment after Vince you hear the sound of the TV from the living room. Slowly making your way into the living room you notice Sammy with an Xbox controller in his hand, eyes trained on the TV. “Hey,” you greet, sitting down on the couch and alternating between watching the game he was playing and glancing at Sammy.
“Hey,” Sammy mutters, finishing up his game before tossing the controller down onto the coffee table and sitting up to turn and face you. “Did running away solve everything?”
Shaking your head you pull your legs up to your chest on the couch. “Should I have stayed here and let you yell at me about fucking up your life instead?”
“I didn’t say you were fucking up my life.”
“Maybe not in those exact words,” you retort. “But you may as well have.”
Sammy sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he grumbles, looking over at you. “I just…fuck, I hate it so much. Like why him?” His tone is different now, lighter, easier than the last conversation.
“I mean…look at him,” you say, trying your best to to lighten the mood even more.
Sammy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I guess I really should have seen it sooner,” he comments, staring down at the ground.
“What do you mean?”
Sammy looks up from the ground, eyes meeting yours. “You’re exactly his type and he’s been spending way more time just hanging around here since you got here. I’m such an idiot for not thinking this would happen. I pretty much set it up.”
You wait a few seconds in silence, processing that information. You had really just assumed Vince spent that much time at his apartment normally. You figured they were on the road a lot, when they were back in St. Louis he would just want to relax at home playing video games and watching TV. You never would have thought that you played a role In keeping him there. And you definitely wouldn’t have assumed you were exactly his type either. “So you can’t really be mad then…you said it, you set it up.”
Sammy laughs, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “I didn’t say that either…But I’m not mad, I don’t like it…maybe that’ll change, I don’t know. But I’m not mad at you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”
You smile softly, standing up and walking over to the couch he was on, dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around him dramatically. “Good, because I can’t handle you being mad at me,” you tell him. Pulling back you let your arms drop from around him. “So, will you come look at apartments with me tomorrow so that Vince and I can-.”
“Stop,” Sammy interrupts, pushing you away playfully. “I don’t want to hear it, you’re so gross,” he says, both of you laughing as you lean back in response to Sammy pushing you.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Vince walk into the room hesitantly and you give him a reassuring smile. “Sammy admitted he actually set us up.”
“I did not,” Sammy exclaims, laughing. “I said I pretty much did…not on purpose though.”
“Close enough…I’m going to make dinner. I don’t know how you two are going to survive when I get my own apartment,” you laugh, standing up and walking over towards Vince, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the kitchen.
“You can come over and cook us dinner,” Sammy calls as you leave the living room.
Shaking your head you make it to the kitchen, only there for a second before Vince is pulling you into him, leaning down and kissing you gently. “I knew it would be okay,” Vince mumbles against your lips.
Bringing one hand to the back of his neck you press your body closer to his, confident that Sammy would be avoiding the kitchen now that you and Vince were in there alone. “No you didn’t,” you giggle. “You just said that because I was panicking.”
“Kind of,” Vince admits.
“Well I’m glad it worked out,” you whisper, sliding your hands to his shoulders. “Because if we never got around to you pinning me down like you did last night I’d be really disappointed,” you joke, looking up at Vince through your eyelashes with a mischievous smile.
Vince groans, shaking his head. “So that’s all I am to you?” Vince asks, playing along.
“Of course,” you joke. Pulling out of his grasp you begin to prepare dinner, but the absence of touch doesn’t last long, Vince stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “Someone is a little needy.”
“I’m hurt after your last comment,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you chop up some vegetables.
Pausing you turn your head to the side, looking up at Vince. “Fine, I like you for more than just sex,” you tell him.
“So when are you letting me take you on another date…a real one.”
“Anytime,” you tell him, glancing over at him as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter. You can’t help but get caught up in staring at him for a little too long. A few months ago you never would have imagined your trip to St. Louis would even last this long, let alone end with you moving there and falling for a boy. And of course you weren’t sure how it would end, but for the time being you were happy with the new adventure you were embarking on.
#vince dunn#vince dunn fic#vince dunn imagine#vince dunn fanfiction#vince dunn fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl imagines#nhl fanfiction#nhl one shot#st louis blues imagine#st louis blues fanfic#st louis blues fanfiction#st Louis blues one shot#hockey fanfic#hockey fic#hockey one shot#Hockey Fanfiction
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Will be the Best Years of My Life
Ch 3: I'll Stay Behind to Stay with You
Middle school came with his teachers trying to get him to go the way of Connor. They figured bumping him up a grade would help with his ADHD; that having a challenge to pit his boundless energy against would calm him down. They didn’t listen when he told them it wouldn’t work. That if they just put him in Daniel’s class he would be fine. The school didn’t believe him on that either and decided to go over his head and call his dad. So the next Monday found him in his guidance counsellor’s office with his dad. Understandably, when he’d first gotten the call his dad assumed Silas had gotten himself into trouble again. Silas watched with some amusement as his dad got gradually more annoyed as his guidance counsellor talked at him. “That isn’t going to work.” His dad said bluntly and cut the counsellor off, “Just because their twins doesn’t mean Silas has the same needs as Connor. If you shove him into a new class he’s only going to disrupt more because he’s going to be on his own in a new environment.” The counsellor tried to pipe up again, but withered under his dad’s glare, “Did you even bother asking Silas what he needed or did you ignore him because he’s a child?”
“Ah, well,” He scrambled, “We just thought this would be a better fit for him.” “Than what exactly?” His dad pressed. “He asked to be switched into the same schedule block as Daniel Pealeson.” He explained, “We didn’t think placing him in a class with someone he had history with was a good idea.” “So let me get this straight.” His dad leaned to his full sitting height before he continued, “And correct me if I’m wrong; but instead of putting him in class with the one person known to keep him focused, you want to pull him away from his peers and into a classroom full of strangers?” “Well when you put it that way-” “Do you have any idea how ADHD actually works?” His dad continued, “Routine and familiarity work best to keep these kinds of things to minimum. If you put him in Daniel’s schedule block things will go better. If you don’t believe me you can ask his elementary school teachers. They found this out on accident.” “Alright.” His counsellor said after a long silence, “We’ll make the change as soon as we can.” His counsellor clearly didn’t expect his dad to be as well informed as he was; he was out of his depth and he knew it.
They were dismissed after that and Silas smiled as his dad ruffled his hair on the way out. It was nice to know that even when no one else would, his dad would always be there to make sure the right thing got done. It was tiring to always be ignored and talked over just because he’s a kid. “Sorry you had to get called in just to tell them the same things I have been for weeks.” He said when they got into the hall. His dad just shrugged, “It’s not a problem Sixer, that’s what Dad’s do.” He pulled Silas against his side in a tight half hug, “Sorry it had to come to me being called in just so you could be heard.” “Its just so frustrating.” His voiced wobbled with tears. He always hated that his first response when he felt anything in excess was to cry. He was angry, “I’m the one dealing with this. They should believed me when I say I know how to make it better child or not!” “Shh Six, I know” He pulled Silas into a full hug and ran his hand through his hair to soothe him, “Let’s go home for today, and you can try again tomorrow.” “Okay.” He sniffled, “I don’t think I can concentrate like this.”
Silas was in a relatively low mood after that. He just wanted to be heard and listened to by the adults around him. Why was that so hard? They listened to his twin, so why not him? Was it because Connor’s Autism showed more than his ADHD? If he had a meltdown would they listen to him then? “Hey, come back to me Silas.” His dad’s gentle voice pulled him out of his head and he realized he was crying again. “Sorry,” He mumbled as he wiped his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” His dad prodded gently. Silas heaved out a wet sigh as they pulled into the driveway, “I just don’t get it. They will listen to Connor when he needs special requirements, but whenever I need help they ignore me. Why?” His dad was quiet for a long moment and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked for his words. “You and Connor present differently. His Autism comes through more than his ADHD so the school tends so see him as a small child, like he can’t function properly without his accommodations. Your ADHD comes through more, and that’s been reduced to you simply having too much energy instead of what you actually deal with. They think that if they can make you tired you’ll behave in the way they want.” He paused, “It’s not so much that they see Connor and don’t see you; but more that they see you in two very different lights.”
Silas sighed again, “Why can’t they just listen to us? It can’t be that hard.” “Because they’ve gotten it in their heads that they know what’s best, even when they very clearly don’t.” His dad replied with a level of exasperation that Silas felt down to his bones, “Take today to try and decompress okay? And if you want you can invite Daniel over after school. Alright?” He gave slow nod, “Okay.” They got out after that and went inside. Silas changed back into his pajamas and climbed back into bed. He pulled out his phone to message Daniel, but his exhaustion pulled him under before he could get that far. When he woke up a few hours later his dad had left to go back to work. So Silas more or less had run of the house. Any other day he would have seen this as an opportunity to cause trouble. Instead he dug in the fridge for his leftovers and put on cartoons. He didn’t really want to be a person today. The morning had been draining and he was still feeling sour about it. He checked his phone and found a couple of messages from Daniel.
Danny: R U ok? Danny: Silas? Sixty: Had some issued so I’m @ home. Sixty: You can come over later if you want Danny: Of course <3 see you after school Sixty: See you then <3
He smiled slightly as he picked through his food. Talking to Daniel always made him feel better. Daniel didn’t always understand what he was going through, but he always tried his best to be supportive. Silas always appreciated it. When it became clear that he actually wasn’t hungry despite not eating anything all day, he put his food back in the fridge and went back to watching cartoons. Eventually he went to grab his Switch so he had something to keep his hands busy. That was how Daniel found him when he came in through the front door with Connor and Cole. They shared a look and Silas grabbed his things so they could head back to his room. He didn’t have the energy to deal with everyone today. “Pajama day huh?” Daniel asked lightly as they settled on his bed. “Something like that.” He replied as he leaned his head on Daniel’s shoulder, “How was school?” “Pretty boring, like usual.” He said and shrugged his free shoulder, “How was your day?” Silas huffed, “Tiring. Dad had to come in and rescue me from being bumped up a grade.”
“They’re still on about that?” Daniel groaned, “They know it won’t work right?” “They do now.” Silas laughed, “I’ve never seen someone look so scared of my dad. The good news is I should be getting moved to your class soon.” “That’s great.” He grinned at Silas. “You know I did think about it right?” He said eventually, “Moving up a grade.” “Why didn’t you?” He asked. “I looked at Connor and how he’s always reaching back for Markus, and I realized that wasn’t what I wanted.” Silas explained, “I’m happy to stay behind because that means I get to stay here with you.” He was met with a bright smile, “I’m glad you chose to stay then. It would have been lonely with out you.” He took one of Daniel’s hands in his and intertwined their fingers, “Attached at the hip remember?” He squeezed Silas’s hand in return, “Attached at the hip.” He echoed. Silas smiled, he was happy to stay behind if it meant he could stay like this.
#Growing Old with You au#GOwY#Will be the Best Years of My Life#WBYML#daniel60#daniel x sixty#dbh daniel#dbh sixty#dbh fic#dbh
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Date Nights
Series: Persona 4 Ship: Kannao (Kanji Tatsumi/Naoto Shirogane) Word count: 9196
If ever Naoto was feeling low, Kanji would try harder than ever to show her how much he cared. Little gestures of good will and love that would go towards easing the pain. It had been that way from when they first met, and was still the case after over fifteen years.
So when Naoto found herself with Kanji in a slump and a few hours to spare, she took it upon herself to do the same.
(Basically lots of domestic future headcanon shenaningans~ As a note, Naoto is genderfluid in my fics, and this one uses she/her. AO3 link in the notes)
It had been an awfully long time since the Shiroganes had been working away from home at the same time.
Kanji had become unemployed almost two years ago and had been pooling his resources into his online store since then. And Naoto had been on leave a full year now, because of Chihiro, and then the upheaval and transfer of half the Shirogane agency from Tokyo to Yasoinaba. Save the odd local case, she’d effectively been forced to hang up the detective cap until life calmed down enough for her to return.
It was… a much-needed break. They could mutually agree on that.
Then, less than a month between moving into a house and the agency reopening, Yu Narukami had appeared on their doorstep one evening with ‘encouragement bentos’ and a request. The middle school he worked in as guidance counsellor had suddenly lost a teacher temporarily due to illness. The art teacher. She’d probably need at least six months to recover, but the new semester started in September and it was far too tight a deadline for the board to submit a request for a replacement.
“I mentioned you used to work as an art teacher in Tokyo, Kanji, and they said to ask you as soon as possible.”
Neither of them could have foreseen such a thing… But in a week, their situation had changed from both of them being at home, to both of them returning to work just a day apart from one another.
One day.
What a rare commodity that was.
As much as she adored it, Naoto’s career had always been taxing, keeping her late at night and seldom offering her a chance to catch her breath. After all, the Shirogane agency was lauded all across the country. Grampa had made such a name for it before he had died, and the attention she had gained from the media as the ‘first Detective Prince’ had only served to bolster the Shirogane name’s shining reputation once she’d taken over. That, and the fact that it was the only remaining detective agency in the country that specialised in Shadow-related incidents. They’d become ever more prevalent since the mental shutdowns and the Phantom Thieves incidents a decade ago had made knowledge of them more widespread in the seedier depths of society, and the Shadow Operatives had ensured to keep her busy when the cases grew too complex for them to handle.
That’s why they’d come back to Inaba of all places. With the TV World still very much active, it was the most potent place for illicit Shadow activities to occur in all Japan. And with the murmurings of new information cropping up, the higher ups had figured it may be a good idea to have a team of investigators to hand.
The detective had a lot of work waiting for her when her leave expired.
So, for her to be the one left with the house instead of Kanji for a full day… Well, she couldn’t exactly waste such an occasion.
“Momo, no -! Don’t… climb in there…” Naoto sighed, watching as her orange tabby clambered her way into one of the cardboard boxes at the far end of the room. She knew it was a fruitless effort to try and stop her. Their other cat didn’t house much love for boxes, but Mochi had been found in one as a kitten and clearly had developed a natural affinity towards them as a result. Half their move had been spent trying to keep her out of them long enough to fill them.
“If you wish to help, the very least you could do would be to climb into the ones I haven’t yet searched,” she told her, crossing over to the box and hoisting Mochi out. “That way, I won’t be wasting any time by delving into boxes twice when I retrieve you.”
Unfortunately, Naoto’s request was not met with much approval. The cat just mewled indignantly, clearly unimpressed and unwilling to cooperate, and scampered behind the large pile in the centre of the garage, leaving the detective to continue her investigation on her own.
It was frankly impressive that all the miscellany crammed into these boxes had fit into their Tokyo apartment; big though it was, it had been severely lacking in storage. Half their belongings – all the stuff they didn’t desperately need - were all packed up in this room, waiting for a spare moment to be put in their rightful place. They’d had five weeks to unpack, and perhaps if they’d still been living as just the two of them, they’d have made more of a dent in it. That would certainly have made Naoto’s current task a considerable deal easier. But all the free time they had now was devoted to Chihiro. She was only just coming up on her first birthday, and she was still very much dependant on her parents every moment that she was awake. Even now, Naoto was only able to search the room because the infant was taking her midmorning nap.
She was looking for a binder Kanji had put together, containing a collection of their favourite recipes that he’d found online or written down over the years. Somehow, it had gotten separated from the recipe books when they had packed away their kitchen, and it had not yet resurfaced. This was a major blockade in her plan for the day. She needed that binder. Desperately.
Kanji had seemed rather perturbed as he’d prepared for work that morning. In fact, he’d seemed uneasy about it from the moment Yu had asked him to take it. It was… unlike him. He’d worked as an art teacher in a middle school back in the city for four years, and he’d loved every minute of it.
“Hmm? Course I want the job,” he’d told her when she’d questioned him about it over breakfast. “I miss this kinda shit, you know that.”
He had a smile on his face as he tried spooning a blob of mushed fruits into Chihiro’s mouth, but it was a strained smile if nothing else.
“You just seem tense, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well… So do you. Goin’ back to work after havin’ a kid is s’posed to be kinda rough.” He shrugged.
“I can’t deny that…” Naoto sighed. “Even knowing that your mother will be there for her, and that you’re only doing part time hours, the idea of leaving her alone at all is more taxing on me than I could ever have expected… That’s all it is though?”
Naoto could think of several other reasons Kanji might have to be nervous about this particular job. But on the off chance that they hadn’t crossed his mind yet, she refrained from bringing them up. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse.
There was a pause, filled only by Chihiro’s babbles and the sound of the cats zooming about the living room after one another in a burst of energy. As he scraped the last of the baby food from the pot and offered it to their daughter, Kanji’s face began to fall ever so slightly, and before long he was sighing.
“I really gotta… stop overlookin’ that I’m married to a detective. I am scared shitless of leavin’ Chihiro for the first time. If anythin’s wrong, it’s that most of all. But uh… Otherwise I’m just a little weirded out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Middle school – this middle school – is kinda… where I started to get a bad rep… What… I dunno, what if they take one look at me and realise who I am and kick me out? Like, they don’t realise ‘Shirogane Kanji’ is actually ‘Tatsumi Kanji’ an’ once they do they won’t want me anymore? They don’t know why I resigned from my last job either, what if they think I did something bad an’–”
As his voice grew louder and more sporadic, his panic becoming so apparent that it was palpable, Naoto scooted her way over to him and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head gently on his chest.
“You left on your own terms because you disliked the way the school was being run. You don’t have to disclose why. And Kan-chan… you don’t mean to tell me that I’ve kept you from your hometown for so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like? Inaba isn’t overly massive – rumours spread fast. I daresay there isn’t a person here who doesn’t know that the Tatsumi boy married that Detective Shirogane person. Especially not with how much your mother talks about us.”
She held him close for a while, rubbing her hand across his back even after his heart stopped pounding so hard, and his muscles began to relax.
“Yeah… I know… I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about, an’ that there ain’t no point in getting’ worked up about it…”
“Well, it’s not… stupid. I’d say it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, given the impact it had on you in the past. But I can assure you of this: they wouldn’t have hired you if they thought you were unfit for the position.”
He nodded, and a smile appeared on his face again – a genuine one, this time. For the rest of the morning, his dour disposition had dissipated somewhat, and his spirits certainly seemed higher when he had left the house.
But even if she had managed to cheer him up, Naoto knew the day would be a challenge for him no matter how many positive sentiments she sent his way. Returning to a place you had been mistreated, even after nearly twenty years had passed, was difficult enough as it was, without the thought of leaving your baby for the first time nagging at you as well.
That’s why she needed that binder. It contained the recipe for one of Kanji’s all-time favourite curries, one she believed even she could produce, and she figured he might need something like that when he returned home.
He often did little ‘date nights’ from home for them, for birthdays or anniversaries, or even just when Naoto was struggling with a tough case and needed a distraction or treat. They would put on whatever was comfortable, sit down with a meal and a drink, and more often than not, end up in a snuggled-up heap on the couch with a movie flickering on in the background. She hosted her fair share of them as well, but admittedly hers often involved an expensive night out at a restaurant. Kanji was the better cook, and he considered it a hobby more than simply something one needed to do to survive, but Naoto lacked the skill or drive to make a hand-crafted date night even without her long hours.
But this night would be an exception. She suddenly found herself with eight hours at home without him, and she would be a fool not to use that time to surprise him in the same way he always would with her. She’d throw him a date night so damn enjoyable that he’d forget all about his anxieties, no matter the cost.
That was… if she could find the damned recipe she needed to carry out her plan.
And so, she perused box after box in her investigation, leaving not even one overlooked. Old case files she’d had sent over from the Shirogane estate that had once belonged to her grandfather. An assortment of holiday decorations that really needed separating by date. Kanji’s miscellaneous box of scrap material. A box marked for charity of Naoto’s old clothes that had stopped fitting since she’d had Chihiro. Plushies. More plushies. Even the container of extra crockery, things that had come from the kitchen itself, bore no sign of the item she sought. An hour passed as though it were seconds, yielding nothing of value.
Had Kanji already moved it? It wasn’t as though she could ask him… Had they forgotten it? No, that apartment was spotless when they’d moved out. She’d triple checked it herself.
She foresaw herself spending all day searching at this rate… but she didn’t have all day. He’d be staying late for a debriefing, but even so, Kanji would still probably be home for five o’clock, and she still had to go to Junes to fetch the ingredients she was going to need.
Perhaps she could look it up online again? That was where Kanji had found it originally…
She sat herself, cross legged, on an old rug and pulled out her phone, plugging in the name of the recipe into a search engine, lifting her arm so that Mochi – tired of hiding – could come and curl up in her lap. And then, running the fingers of her free hand through Mochi’s fur, she began to scroll and click every site she could find.
But she recalled vividly the constitution of the page she was searching for, and none of these were it. She’d never read the words herself – having never made the recipe – and Kanji had decided to crop the name of the site it was from to maintain the ‘aesthetic’ of the folder, but she knew what it looked like. The colours, the typeface, the accompanying picture.
Nothing.
It was entirely possible the site had been redesigned or deleted. In which case she was out of luck online… It wouldn’t work for her to try a different recipe, it had to be that one. If it wasn’t that one, it wouldn’t taste the same, and then it wouldn’t be his favourite. Irritation began to swell within her as her endeavour began to look more fruitless, and she had to take a few moments to breathe and calm a little before moving onto her last resort: checking with Mrs. Tatsumi, with Yakushiji, and the Investigation Team on the off chance that maybe Kanji had lent them the recipe at some point.
Nos all around.
The irritation grew stronger.
And then, as though a timer had gone off signifying the end of her allotted time, the baby monitor sprung to life.
***
“Are… You even listening?”
Naoto huffed and folded her arms, wearing her most devastating expression of disappointment as she shook her head. She’d been talking for a good ten minutes, and she was beginning to wonder if any of it had been heard at all.
“’Course we are. You want to do something cute and romantic for the big guy, because you’re secretly a massive softie, but your first idea went bust.”
Yosuke offered her a cheeky wink and raised his soda cup in a mock toast, before turning back to fawn over Chihiro in Chie’s arms.
“But I dunno how you expect us to concentrate on anything else when you’ve brought this adorable little muffin along,” Chie added, putting on a baby voice and ‘booping’ said muffin on the nose. Chihiro giggled, her tiny face absolutely beaming with delight.
“Oh, I expect you to manage perfectly. If I can – if Kanji can – despite seeing every cute thing she ever does, then it should be no problem for somebody only exposed to it for a short while.”
A couple of hours had passed since Naoto had given up her search for the original recipe and had elected to change tactic. She would simply have to find… a different meal entirely. One that would still mean as much to Kanji. But a quick scour of the recipe books they had on hand in the kitchen yielded nothing. And so, once Chihiro was fed and dressed appropriately for the late summer warmth, she walked her over to Junes to grab some supplies, hoping that by some pure miracle, looking at the ingredients on offer would spark some form of inspiration within her. Only, out of sheer coincidence, she had managed to time her visit perfectly with the end of Yosuke’s shift, and Chie’s day off.
The two of them could often be found talking in the food court on their off-hours. It had been that way since high school, through all the changes and remodels they’d made to the layout of the store over the years and would likely continue to be that way as long as Junes stood and they remained in Inaba. It was the secret headquarters of the Investigation Team, after all. It wasn’t a place you could so easily give up.
So, guided by tradition, they all sat together, sharing a Takoyaki selection in the summer breeze – a welcome change from the mustiness of the Shirogane residence garage – Yosuke and Chie completely spellbound by the baby while Naoto explained her predicament. She had hoped they’d be a little more attentive, and frankly more helpful, but… she supposed she couldn’t fault them. Chihiro was effectively their niece, and she’d been in Tokyo for the past year.
But at least they were making her happy. Seeing her so ecstatic, despite Kanji being gone for so long, certainly helped ease some of the anxieties she had been feeling about leaving her. Getting her acquainted properly with the people who would likely be babysitting her until well into her teens was certainly not a bad thing… although… Naoto was on a tight schedule.
“Aaanyway.” She rapped the table lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Regretfully my first idea – the one that was ah… ‘bust’, as you said – was also my only idea. I’m currently running at a loss on where to proceed from here…”
At the very least they were nodding along now, and looking at her as she spoke.
“…Chie-chan, do you have date nights? What do you usually do?”
“Hmm? Yeah, of course we do! But, uh… Yukiko and I always go out for ‘em. You know, because the inn keeps her so busy and I –”
“Can’t cook anything without it coming out tasting of cardboard?” Yosuke supplied, grinning. Chie shot him a mean look, but nodded nonetheless.
“Pretty much…”
“In most instances, that would be my go-to as well,” Naoto said, holding back a grin at Yosuke’s comment. “Hand-crafted anything is Kanji’s forte, not mine, but… we both agree the ones at home are more enjoyable, no matter how good the food may be in a restaurant.”
“You’re like… the most private people I’ve ever known, so that isn’t surprising.”
She gave an affirming nod. Lovely as it was to go all out sometimes at an expensive eatery, there were always… stares. No matter where they were, people would see them and notice. Sometimes they’d simply recognise the Detective Prince, and that was all they’d see. But other times their eyes would linger longer. They’d take note of Kanji’s piercings and spikes combined with the cute animals and soft colours, analyse Naoto’s dedication to old English fashion and deliberate lack of conformity to any gender, and then keep their gazes trained on the two of them as they attempted to pick apart every contrasting aspect. The way they looked and dressed alone, the way they looked and dressed together… it made going out in public difficult for two people who both struggled to some degree with social anxieties and a history of being scrutinised for the way they were.
Kanji had left the house worrying he was going to be judged. She didn’t want to put him through that twice in one day.
“Well, is there anything else you’ve made before that you know he likes?” Yosuke asked, helping himself to the Takoyaki
Naoto frowned. “Well, yes, but all of it is rather… typical? I have a small repertoire, you see.”
“So you want something different? Hmm… Why don’t you just go ham?” Chie suggested with a genuine smile. “Grab stuff you think’ll go together and make a totally new curry. Heck, doesn’t even gotta be curry.”
“That’s how you end up with Mystery Food X: Redux,” Yosuke warned, and Chie’s smile instantly vanished. “Though actually, Naoto… In your sensible hands you’d probably be okay. You actually know how to cook.”
“If I wasn’t holding a baby right now, I would kick you.”
“Without a recipe at all…?” For a moment, the detective was left perplexed. But before long, a thought came across her mind, and that irritation from earlier came grumbling back into her periphery. “Yosuke-kun. Please. I simply don’t have the time to spare for your… japes and mockery. I need you to be serious.”
She expected him to laugh, as he often would when she caught him out while he was joking. She didn’t do so very often, loathe as she was to admit it, and it had become something of a game to Yosuke to see how long he could keep pushing her buttons.
But this time he threw up his hands instead, with… was that his face now contorted in confusion as well?
“H-hey, I am being serious. Promise. If you genuinely have no other ideas, then I begrudgingly accept that Chie might be onto something.”
“And I’m supposed to do that without instructions?” She asked incredulously, raising her eyebrows. Was she being foolish and naïve? Or was Yosuke the one reeking of inexperience? “You act as though you believe I have time to memorise every food combination, and how to make them work. I am a detective, not a chef, Yosuke-kun. Recipes exist so that I don’t have to preoccupy my brain with trivialities such as cooking from memory.”
“Hey, it was Chie’s idea, not mine!”
“You should know better.”
The raised voices and snipes were a staple of any conversation involving Yosuke and Chie, and at this point Naoto had come to learn that it was largely performative. They ‘fought’ with warm regards. She’d even reached a point where she was able to go along with it without utterly deflating the mood. But to Chihiro, with no grasp of the concept of banter, it was all just loud, frightening noises coming from people she didn’t know all too well. The conversation very quickly had to switch courses when a crying spell threatened to rear its head.
“You know… you never asked me what I do for date nights,” Yosuke pointed out once the baby had been settled. She now lay propped up on Naoto’s lap, nodding off with her little head resting on her chest. Naoto constantly considered herself fortunate that Chihiro wasn’t especially fussy. Sometimes on a good day all she needed to calm right down was a cuddle.
“Hmm?” she looked up. If Yosuke had said anything before that, she had been too preoccupied with gently coaxing her daughter to nap to hear it. “Oh, no, I suppose I didn’t…”
Chie, who had moved into the more comfortable position of resting her chin on her hand now her arms were free, scoffed slightly.
“Dude. Maybe because you don’t have anybody to date?”
“Well… No, but I’ve been on dates. More than one with the same person. I have experience, I’m just… not experiencing it right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, casting his gaze off to the side. “Dinner dates aren’t really my thing though…”
“So, why’d you even bring it up?”
“Hey! I’ve been on… like, one dinner date. I’m just not the guru of them!” He shrugged. “It’s an interesting story actually… I got set up a few years ago by my bandmates, and it turns out the guy isn’t my type at all. But I didn’t want to say no without at least giving him a chance, so… Y’know. He wants to go out to this fancy French place, but we get there and they’re closing early because of… Uh, I think the kitchen flooded or something like that? So, he takes me back to his place and leaves me there, runs off to go shopping, and comes back and cooks a three-course French meal himself.”
“And you didn’t marry him on the spot?”
“Nah. We did a couple more dates but it didn’t really work out. We weren’t super compatible...”
“Is this why you get Rise to vet anybody you’re gonna date now?”
“Pretty much. You guys know me best, so…”
The two of them continued to talk, but from Naoto’s perspective, their voices had been drowned by her thoughts into a dull and distant murmur. From the moment Yosuke had finished his story, the gears in her brain had whirred into motion, working their way into fabricating a plan formed from his words.
It had hit her at last. A wave of inspiration and relief, tantamount to the feeling she would have when she’d finally cracked the secret to a particularly arduous case.
A plan. Followed by a conjured image of how Kanji’s face might look when he saw it.
“Yosuke-kun…” she began, standing slowly so that she did not wake the baby and gently lowering her into the buggy she had parked next to her seat. “Would you be able to look something up for me? While my hands are full.”
***
January 19th, 2025. Little over a year and a half ago. London, England. They’d been abroad for a few weeks at that point, Naoto on a case for the Shadow Operatives, and Kanji taking advantage of her hotel room to table at an artist’s alley in a convention.
It was something of a special occasion. Kanji’s 29th birthday had been the original cause for celebration, but to him at least that was very much an aside. It was, what, only three hours prior to reaching the restaurant that they’d found out Naoto was pregnant.
There had been several sources for the reasoning behind Naoto’s choice in establishment, and unlike most of her destination picks while they’d been in London, none of them had a single thing to do with Sherlock Holmes. The ones that stood out the most: a churning in her stomach – simultaneously a mental and a physical reaction to her current condition – and a particularly mournful image of her mother-in-law from a few months prior.
“There was this little place my late husband and I would always take Kanji when he was young, if we had to travel to Okina. Italian, it was, family run. I just heard from a customer that it was recently shut down because the owner passed. It has me a little down to think of, that’s all Naoto dear.”
A precious memory from Kanji’s childhood was no small matter, harrowing as such a thing was to think. And Italian… parsing through her options in her mind as she browsed the local restaurants on one of those food apps, Naoto took note of how the one being advertised made her insides turn the least at the thoughts of it. It was one of those smaller, more community-based places, while the others were either going to be full of too-rich smells for her poor stomach to handle, or full of classy, antiquated rules and stares that she didn’t feel up to taking that day.
She didn’t want to make her husband eat hotel food on his birthday… And nor did she want to worry him all evening by being exceptionally edgy. So it didn’t take very long at all for her to have dialled the number for the family-run Italian place, and had booked them a table for two that evening.
The food had been… good. Standard fare for that kind of place. But Naoto was a harsh critic – even without feeling deeply unwell, she had been to Italy. And yet, in all the fifteen years she had known Kanji, she could not recall a single meal out where he seemed to have enjoyed himself quite as much as that. The rush of euphoria from learning he was going to be a father had apparently been enough to turn any experience he may have had that night into the best date night of his life. And Naoto knew the kind of man he was. Sentimental, perceptive, prone to dwelling on the little things. He’d remember, starkly, what he had eaten then.
It was just a pasta meal. She recalled it being made with chicken and a creamy, pesto-based sauce, and Yosuke’s internet search had quickly pulled up a recipe for something along those lines. It wouldn’t be the same – these places kept their recipes close to the heart – but that didn’t matter. Her plan had now become a case of finding something symbolic, over finding something that tasted good.
“I think he’s really starting to rub off on you,” Yosuke had noted as Naoto had prepared to rush off to grab the ingredients from the recipe he had found. “Kanji, I mean. In a good way.”
She’d queried him on that. Her own sharpness didn’t exactly extend to analysing herself.
“I just meant that five years ago, I don’t think you’d ever have thought to do something like this. I always took you for the… less cliché of the two of you. Didn’t you propose to him spontaneously in a cat café? If you don’t mind me asking… why is this the first thing you thought to do for him?”
A pause for Naoto to collect her thoughts. One that, much to everyone’s surprise, didn’t last nearly as long as it might have.
“It’s… because this is logical to me. A dinner date – it’s the simplest, most common activity in the books. It’s a cliché because its effective. Because food is one of those love languages that transcends barriers, and to somebody who struggles in most social situations, like Kanji, like me, you must understand that something like this is a life saver. It’s a change to our routine that really doesn’t change all that much.” She smiled to herself. “Kanji does this to make me feel happy. So many people do, for the person they love. It only makes sense to me that I follow their lead.”
It was that way for most matters of the heart, she thought to herself as she balanced a packet of chicken on the hood of the buggy. She had never known how to act in these situations, how to express the feelings she had. And while she’d devised some unique little ways that she had managed to convey to Kanji, oftentimes the most effective means of telling him that she loved him was to simply use another person’s idea as a foundation. She had her own experiences as proof that it worked. After all, Kanji was a person who had been so starved for and scared of affection as a child that now, almost anything that said ‘I care about you’ was enough to draw him to tears. And Naoto was no different. He was more physical than her, and really that was the only major way in which their feelings towards romance diverged. The things that made one of them happy was sure to leave the other in the same state.
***
Naoto loved Kanji more than she hated cooking. That was really the defining fact that made this entire plan of hers possible at all.
Because she really hated cooking.
“I’ll prolly be home in like… forty minutes,” Kanji had told her over the phone when she’d given him a tentative call at just gone four to gauge how long she had. Pasta wasn’t exactly something she could make well in advance – just the thought of reheating it or overcooking it made her skin crawl. It was one of those things she needed to be perfect. Kanji, thankfully, didn’t have a preference.
So, she’d had to leave making the actual meal until as close to Kanji’s arrival as she could predict. But it wasn’t as though she had time to spare… She had to make the table, feed the cats, feed the baby, put the baby down for a nap…
Then she had to cook the chicken and the pasta… that was fine, it just… radiated a lot of heat for a day that was already rather warm. Inaba’s houses were old, and they didn’t yet have much ventilation or air conditioning.
Then was the sauce, and she had to do some vegetables, but she had to keep stirring the sauce so it didn’t ruin the consistency, and she had to keep turning the meat and the veggies so they wouldn’t burn, and oh, the pasta might stick or become overdone if she wasn’t careful. Then it would just become stressful. Every meal, every time. No matter how methodical she tried to be, it would always devolve into this.
It was a focus thing, she was sure. When she homed in on a task or a detail, it became quite difficult to switch gears on the fly. A useful skill for analysing a murder case. Not so much for cooking.
It was why, when they were both at home, she and Kanji would often just cook dinner together.
But occasionally, and for the sake of somebody she cared about, it was worth it.
She was just at the stage where she was plating up the food, trying to get it to look as it did in the picture on the website, when the familiar sight of an old, dusty car that had at one point been purple staggered its way up their driveway, starkly contrasted with the shiny motorcycle it had pulled up next to. As Kanji climbed from the car, Naoto carefully studied his face, trying to glean from his expression how exactly he was feeling in that moment. But Kanji had a naturally angry look to him, so such a task was often difficult to undertake.
“You makin’ garlic bread, Nao?” he called from the porch almost as soon as the door had slid shut.
“You’ll see,” was all she said in response. With Kanji just moments away from seeing what she had done, she found herself buzzing with anticipation.
“Wuzzat s’posed to mean?” he asked, sticking his head around the door into the kitchen.
For a moment, his forehead crinkled as he took everything in, his eyes lingering on the table made up as closely to that of a restaurant as Naoto could manage, with cloth, candles, and an arrangement of Kanji’s favourite red roses (albeit that was rather haphazardly done).
And in that moment Naoto felt as though her heart had somehow managed to stall.
But the tension was brief, quickly dissipated by the biggest, goofiest grin taking up a huge portion of Kanji’s face.
He strode into the room and pulled his partner into a powerful hug all in a motion that was so fluid, you wouldn’t think it was Kanji performing it.
“I can see you’re ready to reopen the agency, huh?”
Naoto smiled and shook her head, before snuggling her cheek into Kanji’s chest. “Don’t mistake this for a fit of boredom – I’ve been anything but. Welcome to our first date night back in Inaba.”
“Huh? W-wait, hold up… Date night? You did this… fer me?”
His eyes threatened to grow wider than his smile had those few moments earlier, as the realisation of the circumstances slowly began to dawn on him.
Then, as was customary for Kanji whenever Naoto would do anything for him ever, his face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and he began stammering unintelligible gibberish.
“Quickly now, before it cools down!”
“Y…Yuh…”
This was… odd. Kanji seemed unequivocally, unprecedentedly broken. His movements as he crossed to the counter and grabbed his plate, were mechanical, shaken, even. They weren’t unheard of for him, but it was as though they had suddenly been transported fifteen years into the past once more. Before they had fallen in love, before they’d even been close friends, when Kanji was so overcome with embarrassment whenever they spoke that he would be unable to function.
Now they were married, it wasn’t exactly commonplace.
Had something happened to him at work which had left him overwhelmed?
“Kanji?” Naoto called out tentatively as they took their seats.
“…huh?”
“You seem… Rather out of it.”
He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “Right. Yeah… Sorry…”
He cleared his throat and repeated the process of shaking his head.
“It’s just, uh… ‘M kinda at a loss for words. This is… Wow.”
A tension she hadn’t recognised until it was gone suddenly flooded from her body with a sigh of relief.
“For a moment there I was concerned that something was wrong, so –”
“More like… everythin’ is right. I never pegged you fer someone who’d do date nights Tatsumi style.”
“…Tatsumi style? So this…” she waved an arm across the table. “This is something you observed… what, from your parents?”
He nodded. Naoto didn’t realise it was possible for him to turn redder until just then.
“Ain’t really a lotta options for fancy restaurants like what you do out here. Ma and my old man always improvised at home. I know cookin’ yer partner a meal ain’t somethin’ my folks made up, they just ended up callin’ it that… Nickname kinda stuck.” He rubbed the back of his head.
“Well, I suppose I have rather adopted a Tatsumi way of behaving today. Our roles have been utterly reversed. Why, I daresay after dinner, I shall take up a crochet project, and you’ll lull our Chihiro to sleep by reading her more of ‘A Study in Scarlet’.”
“I love you, Naoto.”
“Eh?”
But instead of elaborating, Kanji simply left his partner to turn an equally furious shade of red while he took a bite of the food. Naoto found herself so flustered that she didn’t even have time to be nervous about him trying the dish.
But, she supposed, she didn’t really have anything to worry about. This was Kanji.
“…I better never hear the words ‘I’m not very good at cooking’ comin’ from yer mouth again.”
“Well… Regardless of the quality of the food –” she began, about to launch into a spiel about how the mess she made, and how stressful it was for her, suggested that she technically wasn’t exactly on the level of a master. But all it took from Kanji was a single glare, and she stopped herself.
This was supposed to be a pleasant evening. And he did hate when she was self-deprecating in any capacity.
“I’m glad you like it Kan-chan.” She smiled, taking her own first bite. Hmm. Not bad. She wasn’t sure how this was supposed to taste – she’d been feeling far too unwell that night in London to eat much at all, so she’d ordered a lighter dish – but how it did taste was pleasant.
“Better than it was on my birthday that one time. Dunno if you remember, but at that one Italian place when we were in England –”
“Where do you suppose I gained the inspiration to make this particular meal?”
“Huh? Well shit, haha. Last time I ever doubt yer memory.”
“Hm, well… I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting that day…”
Kanji slid his free hand across the table and placed it atop hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. Strange, she noted, that the nail was still painted black; she was sure the school would make him take the colour off alongside his piercings.
A nagging feeling in her chest, her stomach, her mind was begging her to ask him how it had gone. But it was not the only train of thought on the feeling that she had. What if Kanji didn’t want to talk about it yet? What if it was best to simply… enjoy the meal in ignorant bliss? Was he waiting for the right time, or for her to say something?
He looked as though he were about to speak now, was that the subject he was going to bring up?
“How has Chihiro been today?”
No. Of course not. The subject of work would have to wait.
As with… most of their conversations over the past year, the rest of the meal was largely dominated with Chihiro. Naoto describing, in detail, exactly what she had done, and Kanji’s expression growing fonder and fonder with every word. By the time they were done eating, he looked as though he were going to cry.
“Kinda sad that this is our lives goin’ forwards…”
“Hm?”
“Nothin’… just been missin’ her at work is all.”
The nagging feeling was very quickly becoming anxiety. The first mention of his day all evening, and it was something negative.
“Kanji, was everything –”
A sound suddenly stole her words before she had the chance to finish. A baby crying, as audible through the walls as it was the baby monitor on the counter.
“Prolly needs changing, huh?” Kanji smiled, rising to his feet. “Mind if I take this?”
“Please… She probably misses you too.”
In the time that Kanji was attending to the baby, Naoto managed to load everything that needed cleaning into the dishwasher, and found her way to the living room, and then to the couch. But her mind wasn’t exactly responsive as she did so.
Kanji… was worse than she had anticipated… More than just a simple meal could possibly hope to fix. Why on earth… What delusion had she been under to think, with how he’d been these past few days, that a little romantic gesture would be all he needed to feel better.
Amidst the haze that was buzzing in her mind, she vaguely registered her hands clenching into fists.
At some point, goodness knew when, Kanji had reappeared in the room and had sat down next to her, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“She’s back down. Heh… Wanted to play as soon as she saw me, the little tyke, but could barely keep her eyes open long enough to do it.”
“She’s had… a busy day.”
“Ain’t we all?” he said with an air of exhaustion about him, placing his glasses gently on the kotatsu in front of them and then sinking back into the couch. “You ready for tomorrow?”
“I’ve been ready for weeks. Waiting on other people…” Naoto mumbled in response. Her gaze had fallen as she’d spoken to her socks, and she could not bring herself to remove it until Kanji nudged her with his arm.
“Hey. You good, Nao?”
“…Are you?”
That brought the conversation to a standstill.
“Would ya believe me if I told ya I was jus’ tired?”
“Only… partially.”
He gave her a half smile and repositioned himself so that his head lay on her shoulder.
“It was… a pretty exhaustin’ day… Lotta new stuff. Lotta old stuff too… that school ain’t changed in twenty years. Amazing it’s managed so long.”
Naoto just made an affirming noise and let her hand come to rest on his shoulder, pressing her cheek onto the top of his head. Best just to let him speak, she thought.
“Ain’t none of the people I knew still there but… they knew who I was. Course they did… didn’t expect any different. An’ you know what?”
“Hm?”
“Most of ‘em just complimented me on the plushies. They knew me ‘cause of the shop, not… ‘cause of the delinquent shit.”
“Well, that’s… good, is it not? That’s what we hoped would happen.”
She felt him shift his head as though he were trying to nod. His arm had worked its way around her waist, and she felt him bunching up the fabric of her dress shirt in his fingers as he spoke. It was an unconscious habit of his. Most notable when he was nervous.
“Yeah… Never said it weren’t good. Jus’ that I was tired. And that I missed my kid. And you.”
Naoto drew a deep breath. “It seemed like something was wrong, that’s all. I’ve been worried about you. All day. All week.”
“…That why you’re not okay?”
“Yes! Effectively!”
Another brief standstill.
“Sorry ‘bout that… Really… Last thing I wanted was for my bullshit worrying over nothing to affect you too.”
Naoto squeezed his shoulder slightly.
“You should know by now that such a thing is impossible. The same can be said of you, to me. We’ve been in this partnership since we were in high-school, Kan-chan, we can’t simply… hide our true feelings any longer. We know each other too well to be caught out.”
“Yeah… s’pose you’re right… I did appreciate it though. Back before I went in today and realised my worries were a load ‘a crap. I… I dunno, I guess comin’ back to Inaba after so long had me thinkin’ that everythin’ was gonna go back to the way it was.”
“Kanji… You weren’t… Please don’t tell me you’ve been thinking that way since we first planned to come.”
Silence. Naoto’s heart dropped. Obviously, that meant she was right on the mark.
Good lord, she had still been expecting when they’d first discussed moving back! Their daughter was one in a week!
“’s in the past now though. All of it,” he said eventually. “Physically this place ain’t no different, but I guess the vibe has changed since we were kids. Maybe… Enough time has passed now that I ain’t gotta worry about… the guy I was.”
“Kanji… I rescind what I said earlier. About how it’s impossible to hide our feelings from each other. Please… when it’s something serious like this, I implore you to tell me.”
Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. If she did, he’d try to make this about her, and dammit, she was tired of it being about her. The entire point of everything she had done that day was to make it about Kanji for once in his life.
“…’M sorry, Nao…”
After that, for a long while neither of them spoke. They simply adjusted themselves into a position where they could more easily cuddle and sat there, snuggled into each other as the dwindling oranges and purples of the twilight sky gave way to darkness.
Kanji was the one to break the silence, his voice so slick with sleepiness that it was demure in a way which was much unlike him.
“Hey Nao… Yer still awake, right?”
“Mmhmm…” she responded. It was… mostly true.
“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. I got a new goal now we’re back here… I wanna be able to look that bastard in the eye and tell him he ain’t me. Not because I’m denyin’ anythin’, but because he ain’t.”
“Him? Your Shadow?”
“Yeah. Like you can, y’know? If your Shadow popped their head back up and started sayin’ the same shit as before, you could just tell ‘em: ‘you’re wrong.’ ‘Cause they would be.”
“But they wouldn’t say something like that. My age and gender no longer cause me grief to the level they had in my youth, so my Shadow wouldn’t bring them up.”
Of course, they wouldn’t. Naoto thought that was obvious. She was thirty-one, very much an adult, and any doubt she had about whether she was a man or a woman were significantly eased when she had learned that she could be both and neither. She had no lack of confidence in those aspects of herself, regardless now of what other people thought, so there was no way the Shadow could use them as ammunition if they were to reappear.
But based on Kanji’s next statement, suddenly full of more vigour than his words prior, she wondered if perhaps she had misunderstood where he was coming from.
“Yeah, but that’s what I’m saying! The stuff your Shadow said back then… It ain’t even crossin’ your mind anymore. I wanna be the same… I mean… It’s not that I ain’t happy with who I am. I like cute shit, and sewing, and all the stuff like that. Shit, I’m bi as hell. I can say that stuff proudly. It’s…” he huffed. “For some reason, it’s like I can be confident in myself all I want, but in my head it don’t mean shit unless everyone else feels the same way. An' as long as I got a history as 'the guy who beats up bikers', it's like that day ain't gonna come... I’m… still scared shitless of bein’ rejected after all these years... It’s like… every time I meet a new group of people, I just end up wonderin’ how long its gonna be before they brand me a thug and cut me and everyone I care about off. Think that’s kinda the reason it’s been weighin’ on me again so much more recently. I start comin’ up with scenarios in my head where it gets outta hand and Chihiro gets hurt ‘cause of it.”
As he spoke, his hug became tighter.
“Kan-chan…”
“So, my goal is to get to a place where I don’t constantly worry about that stuff. Where if that bastard showed up again and said that kinda shit, I could deny him with my whole heart and know for certain that I’m right an’ he’s wrong. An’ before you say shit, I know that ain’t how Shadows work. That’s jus’ the image I use in my head to try an’ visualise what I’m itchin’ to do.”
He added that last part with a hint of a laugh to his tone.
So that was why he took a job he was so caught up about? As some concrete way of proving to himself that he would be okay if he did?
A self-destructive means of gathering evidence for a hypothesis… hm… perhaps Naoto’s inheritance of Kanji’s traits over the years had gone the other way as well.
“I didn’t realise it was possible to be so unbelievably proud of somebody, while simultaneously thinking them a fool…” Naoto ensured to keep her own tone bright, so that he would know she spoke in endearing terms. “You know I would have supported you through this if only you had told me –”
“Hah. Yer actin’ like you take me for the kinda guy who thinks this shit through… this ain’t exactly something I’ve been plannin’ or nothin’, it just sorta… came to me now.”
Oh, so it was a subconscious instinct?
Then perhaps he would be safe from her bad influence for just a little while longer…
“Well… regardless of how much preparation has gone into it… it is a good goal to have in mind, so long as you’re comfortable with the pain it may bring in the process.”
“Yeah. No problem. Anyway…” he sat up and looked her in the eyes. “What was that you were implyin’ with the whole ‘you know I would have supported you’ bull you just said?”
Naoto frowned. “It’s the truth –”
“Yeah, I know it’s the truth. Because you have been supportin’ me, dumbass. You ain’t ever stopped.” He thrust his arm in the vague, general direction of the kitchen, a wild delight dancing in his eyes. “You spent the last day of yer maternity leave makin’ sure I’d have a good evenin’ because you thought I needed cheerin’ up.”
Naoto felt her cheeks heat up. “I… I only did what you would do for me…”
“Yeah, but it ain’t like I made you do it. You still made the decision. It’s amazin’, an yer incredible, and adorable, an’ you make a freakin’ awesome pasta, an’ I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”
She knew she was blushing harder and harder with every word, to the point where all she could think to do was bury her face into his shoulder.
“Feel kinda bad that we kinda got side-tracked from the ‘date night’ though… Sorry if you had anything else planned.”
“No, no, don’t feel bad. I did this because I thought you needed it, Kanji. And I don’t suppose I’m wrong in suggesting that you very much needed this talk as well?”
“…You ain’t wrong… Not at all.”
“And do you feel any better for having it?”
“Mmhmm.”
Naoto lifted her head and gave him her warmest smile. “Then I can safely declare this date night a resounding success.”
“Damn right, you can! But uh… I don’t wanna take away from anythin’ else you mighta wanted to do, so –”
The heat in her cheeks returned as quickly as it had vanished, and she sheepishly averted his gaze. Right. Date night was usually more than a meal.
“Uhm... About that. Kanji, I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I… I was so caught up in trying to find a recipe for dinner that it never even occurred to me to look for a movie or something to do afterwards.”
She offered him an apologetic look, but his immediate response was only to laugh and hold her closer.
“Don’t think I coulda made it through a movie anyway… I’m beat…”
“As am I. I think I may drift off here…”
It quickly became apparent that each of their ideal end to the evening would be to turn in early and hope to gain a restful night – something that was near impossible with a small child. Whether such a thing was an indication of how eventful their day had been, or whether it was simply a sign of them getting older, neither really cared to consider. Instead, they just ensured the house was secure, called the cats to follow them, and moved upstairs as quietly as they could so that their footsteps wouldn’t cause Chihiro to stir.
It wasn’t until Naoto had switched her outfit for one of Kanji’s old shirts and was brushing her teeth in the upstairs bathroom that it dawned on her: there was still one aspect of her day that had yet to be cleared up.
And now that it had come to mind, she feared she may be unable to sleep until she had an answer.
“Kan-chan?”
“Hm?”
“You know the binder you keep with recipe print-outs…? Do you have any idea what box it’s in?”
His face was mostly buried by the bedsheets by now, but she could tell from the part she could see that he was thinking hard.
“Uh… Oh! My car.”
“…Your car?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want the other kitchen stuff to squash it, so I put it separate. I see it every time I go in there an’ I keep saying I’ll bring it in and never do. How come…?”
Naoto heaved a great sigh and flopped on the bed besides him. It wasn’t until her face hit the pillow that she realised exactly how exhausting her day had been. “So you had it all along… I never would have found it.”
“You were lookin’ for it?”
“I was. I wanted to make you that curry instead, the one you called your favourite.”
“Ohhhh. I getcha now." He laughed. "That woulda been a good choice. But y’know anythin’ would have been fine. I got a real soft-spot for Italian food, hehe.”
“I like that curry myself though,” she added, as she shuffled under the covers. “It’s rare to find something spicy that you can handle as much as I…”
“You do, huh? I see.”
There was silence for a while. And then…
“Hey, Naoto…?”
“Mmm?”
“When’s your next day off?”
“My next day off…? That would be Sunday… Why?”
But Kanji didn’t answer. Instead, he just leaned over to kiss her goodnight, and then, with a sleepy smile, he rolled over and went to sleep.
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midnight troubles
part one
pairing: luke patterson x julie molina
a fic all about luke and julie taking on their biggest challenge yet: parenting a baby simulator.
high school au
"we are not naming our daughter after those two doofuses."
part two || masterlist || ao3
"Time to hand out your new babies!"
Luke's face paled.
How did he manage to get himself into this situation? He deliberately missed a health credit, hoping his extracurricular activities such as sports (and singlehandedly putting together a legendary band at seventeen) would be enough. But clearly, he wasn't that lucky after being pulled into his guidance counsellor's office and being told his only other option was to take a health class specifically focused on parenting. At such late notice, it was the only class with an open spot that could count towards his requirements.
It was mostly fine.
Julie happened to be in that class and he was able to half-ass through it because his best friend (and incredible lead singer of his band) is ridiculously smart. She'd only huff when he inched over to peek at her notes but even she couldn't resist his cheeky grin.
However, this was an assignment where he couldn't use his excellent level of bullshit. It was the final project of the semester and worth 30% of their final grade. In pairs of two, they were to care for a fake baby, who in reality, acted just like a real baby. It recorded everything and if you took too long to respond to its crying, or held its neck the wrong way, it docked marks.
Luckily for Luke, Julie agreed to be his partner, because he genuinely believed he would fail without her. Unfortunately, her genius brain alone was not enough to help them excel in this project.
"Patterson, girl or boy?"
Oh, and the best part about this course? They had been short on teachers at the beginning of the school year, so somehow, Luke's lacrosse coach (who hates everything and everyone) was convinced to teach the course.
Luke looked over at Julie in a panic, unsure of his answer. "Uh — I don't know?"
"That's not an answer, Patterson!" Coach Jacobs yelled before throwing a baby simulator, dressed in a light pink onesie, in Luke's direction. Luke fumbled a little but managed to catch it. Julie cringed when she saw his hands wrap around the baby's neck. The whole classes' eyes flickered back to Coach Jacobs. "That doesn't count," he muttered before continuing to hand out the babies in a more civilized manner.
Assuming that the simulators hadn't been turned on yet due to the way it made no noise whatsoever after being chucked halfway across the room, Luke gently placed it back on his desk. "It's a girl," Julie said softly, staring at her in admiration from her desk beside Luke.
Luke found himself staring at Julie, his heart fluttering. The way Julie was smiling at the baby, as if it was—and god forbid where his mind was dragging him, but as if it was theirs—was making his heart do all sort of weird things in his chest. Luke and Julie had always been friends, but ever since they started the band together and started senior year, he'd started to feel things.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting her a nervous grin when her brown eyes moved up to his face. "What are we naming her?" Before Julie could chime in, he continued, "I promised the boys I'd consider their names as options."
"We are not naming our daughter after those two doofuses," she deadpanned with the utmost seriousness, but Luke was too busy avoiding an aneurysm at hearing 'our daughter' to focus on anything else.
"Regex?" He choked out, because when in doubt, always make a joke.
Julie shook her head. "Over my dead body."
"I've always liked the name Sophia," Luke shrugged, catching her eye to gauge her reaction.
She sent him a soft smile. "I really like that. Let's do it."
The sweet moment was cut short when Coach Jacobs clicked a few buttons on his computer with a smirk. "Alright suckers, get ready for the worst weekend of your lives!"
His statement was proven when half the babies in the room started screaming.
x
"Let me see it!"
"Reggie, it's a her! And I'm the godfather, I get first look."
Julie flinched as the two boys crowded around her. She had just arrived in the cafeteria where she was meeting the boys for lunch, like she always did. Today, she had a new addition and the boys were beyond ecstatic.
"Oh my god, she's adorable," Alex cooed, his eyes sparkling. "I know she's fake but wow, my heart is bursting right now."
Julie laughed. "Her name is Sophia."
Reggie instantly smirked, elbowing Alex whose face was etched in a frown. "I have literally the most common unisex name ever and you didn't name her after me?"
"Trust me," Luke chimed in, appearing out of nowhere and wrapping his arm around Julie's shoulders. "We don't need two Alex's."
"I second that!" Reggie added excitedly.
Alex rolled his eyes, angrily taking a bite from his apple. "Don't worry. I'll remember this; karma is a bitch."
"Dramatic," Reggie sang under his breath. He narrowly missed getting hit with Alex's apple.
"How was she?" Luke asked with a smile, avoiding his friend's antics. Luke and Julie had opposite classes for the rest of the day and decided they would meet in between and alternate.
Julie smiled proudly. "Not a peep. My girl knows Mr. Sanders is terrifyingly scary."
"Great," Luke groaned, "that just means I'm going to get all the action."
Julie patted his shoulder with a smirk. "I really hope so."
"Jules!" Luke whined. "You're not be a very supportive partner, you know."
The brunette rolled her eyes at his guilt tripping antics. "I'm too smart for your games, Patterson. Plus, I'm getting her for all of tonight, so this is the least you can do."
"I know," he grumbled in response, "it's just scary. She's like a tiny human. What if I break her?"
Before Julie could reply, Alex jumped back into the conversation (he had a sort of sixth sense for opportunities to tease and or make fun of Luke). "Well, in the real world, you'd probably get arrested for murder. But she's a tiny robot; I think you'll be just fine."
"Hey, why don't we leave the baby with Alex and go bowling or something?" Luke teased.
Alex frowned. "What — no —"
"Great idea, Luke!" Julie cut Alex off with a smirk. "You want to come, Reg? Alex is on baby duty!"
"I don't like this!" Alex whined.
Reggie smiled excitedly. "We're going bowling? That's when you throw the ball down the side thingies, right?"
Alex paused, patting Reggie's back with a bright smile on his lips. "Never mind. All of that was worth it for this very moment."
x
It was somehow decided that Julie would take baby Sophia for the first night (because she's more likely to not completely destroy the simulator than Luke), then she would make her way over to Luke's house on Saturday.
That was the plan. However, plans always change.
The first few hours went great. The baby cried but was easily soothed with a diaper change or a quick bottle. Julie was able to get the baby to sleep around 9:30 and ended up falling asleep herself after watching a movie on Netflix.
She was woken up at two in the morning with soft cries, so she blearily picked up baby Sophia and chimed her with her bracelet. She tried giving her a bottle which didn't quiet her down and neither did a diaper change. She tried cuddling her and rocking her but to no avail; Julie pulled on her curls, wondering if the cries she was hearing were hers or the baby's.
"Baby, please go back to sleep," Julie begged.
After another fifteen minutes of incessant crying, Julie decided to call in reinforcements. She shouldn't be the only one losing sleep and suffering.
She quickly dialled Luke's number and prayed he wasn't in a deep sleep where he wouldn't hear his phone. If that was the case, she had half a mind to drive over and stick him with baby Sophia so she could finally sleep for a bit. Luckily, he picked up after a few rings.
"Hello?" He mumbled sleepily.
"Lucas Patterson!" Julie hissed over the phone, so sharply that he scrambled to sit upright in his bed and hold the phone tight to his ear. "You better get your ass over here before I murder you! I am dying here!"
Luke rubbed the sleep out of his eyes; he could hear the faint crying of Sophia and sighed. "My name isn't Lucas," he muttered, "and come on Jules, it can't be that bad."
He could picture the absolutely furious and incredulous expression on her face.
"Are you kidding me, Luke? How about I abandon you with this child, and then we'll see what isn't that bad?"
"Sorry," he mumbled, nearly dozing off again.
Julie knew him too well.
"Luke!" She snapped and he flinched awake again. "I better see your face in ten minutes or you're taking care of Sophia the rest of the weekend by yourself!"
"Shit, okay," he grumbled, grabbing a random sweatshirt and joggers. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
"It's been over half an hour of this, you have ten!"
Luke groaned as he hung up the phone and rand a hair through his brown hair. By the tone of Julie's voice, he knew better than to make her wait any longer. Luke arrived at Julie's house with one minute to spare and grabbed the key lodged under a rock in the garden. As soon as he walked in the door, he could hear faint cries.
At this point, he wasn't sure if the cries were baby Sophia's or Julie's.
He had barely gotten through the threshold of her bedroom before his baby was shoved into his arms. "Oh okay," he mumbled, stumbling on his feet. Julie's brown curls were tied back into a messy bun and her eyes were rimmed red.
"Thank god you're here," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. She was undoubtedly making them even more irritated. "She hasn't stopped crying, I've honestly done everything. I don't know what she—" Julie's words abruptly stopped because for the first time in over an hour, all she heard was silence. "What the hell?"
Luke looked just as confused as she did because it literally only took a few seconds before the baby quieted down once settled in his arms. Julie looked exasperated.
"You're never leaving," she replied quickly, staring at him in awe. "You can't leave me alone with her again. I think she hates me."
Luke leaned against her desk, shooting her a disgruntled look. "Relax, I'm sure that's not true. Plus, she's basically a robot. Do they even feel?"
"She definitely makes me feel," Julie huffed, sitting down on her bed. "You can probably put her back now. I think she's cried enough for the night." Luke slowly placed her back in her car seat. "Can you imagine having a baby at this age? God, I couldn't do it."
She could barely make it through an entire night with a fake baby, much less a real one.
Luke took a seat beside her, a generous amount of space between them. "I can't imagine having a baby, no. I think it's physically impossible, but I could be wrong."
Julie laughed, hitting his shoulder in response. Her action brought her a little closer to him. "Shut up. I'm still mad at you for abandoning me."
"Sorry," he smirked in response, even though this was technically the agreed upon deal. "I promise I'll spend the rest of this weekend attached at your hip. I think that's only fair after the night you've already had.
Julie sighed happily. "You always know what to say, don't you, Patterson?"
Luke shrugged his shoulders and felt his cheeks heat up slightly. "I wouldn't say that."
Julie wasn't sure what was bringing it on, but she felt the sudden need to let him know just how much she appreciated him. He was always ready to help out, regardless of the obstacles. He always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better, and even if it didn't, he would always be the one to tell her exactly what she needed to hear. He was her biggest fan when it came to her music, and she couldn't picture anyone else by her side on the piano bench.
Luke had the biggest heart of anyone she'd ever known (except Reggie, maybe) and he needed to know that.
"Hey, I'm serious," she said softly, ducking her head down to catch his hazel eyes. "I appreciate you."
Luke chuckled nervously and before he knew it, his fingers were ringing together because he didn't know what to do with his hands. His nervousness only got worse when Julie tangled her hand into his on his lap.
"I think you're more tired than you thought," Luke responses softly. His gaze focused on their hands. There had always been a connection between them; everyone else could see it, even Luke could see it, especially when they wrote music together.
Julie smiled. "Yeah, I think I am," she leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "We should probably get some sleep bef—"
Sophia's loud cries cut her off before she could finish and Julie groaned, burying her head into his shoulder.
"Don't worry Jules, I've got you."
x
this is a little something i had saved from another fandom & decided to give it a shot for jatp!!
originally written for teen wolf’s stiles and lydia. and the coach was based off coach finstock from teen wolf as well, quite arguably the best character of the show lmao (can yall tell i love teen wolf and am very salty it ended and stiles wasn't even in the last two seasons)
shameless promotion - anyway go watch teen wolf & thanks for reading!!
stay safe everyone! x
#julie and the phantoms#jatp#jatp au#jatp fic#jatp fanfic#jatp fanfiction#juke#juke au#juke fic#juke fanfic#juke fanfiction#luke x julie#julie x luke#palina#julie molina#luke patterson#alex jatp#jatp alex#jatp reggie#reggie jatp#fics
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Get In, Loser, We're Buying Snow Pants
Our school banned long coats due to their association with school shooters. We have been advised to wear snow pants to keep the lower body warm during the winter months. We even went out to the mall during homeroom one day at the beginning of November to buy snow pants.
No one was very pleased about it. I heard a lot of people whining, and Mrs. Woodburn telling us to get over ourselves.
I snickered every time she said some variant of "You are not a geek because you wear snow pants" or "Can you just put your appearances and what you wear aside for one moment and be part of the team?" Yeah, I thought, that'll work. You can try and convince high schoolers to wear snow pants, but they won't want to do it. Teenagers have this perception that if you aren't skiing or snowboarding, snow pants are for babies. And they're not wrong, either. Most kids outgrow everyday use of snow pants by sixth grade.
As my peers shopped for snow pants, I wandered around to see if I could find a snack. Even though it's the beginning of November, as far as the store is concerned, it's time to put out the Christmas stock. And that means they bring out the good snack foods. Yet, the snack food selection of the department store at Christmas is gone downhill. Last year, I thought I bought a package of peppermint bark. I opened the box and was disappointed to find not peppermint bark, but coffee pods.
I want it over to housewares. The store always keeps the treats in housewares. Problem. I can't exactly remember where they keep the treats in the housewares department of this store. I repeatedly ended up in the patio furniture department.
Why the hell are they still selling patio furniture in freaking November? I thought to myself as I rounded the patio furniture for the third time, Nobody out here would buy patio furniture this close to winter time. I mean, maybe people in Florida would buy patio furniture at this time of year, but no one in Chicago would buy patio furniture this time of year
Then something happened. By "something happened", I mean I ran into Dana.
I found Dana curled up in a ball on an outdoor sofa. I chuckled when I first saw her curled up. I thought she was asleep. "Glad to know I'm not the only one that takes a nap in the patio furniture" I quietly laughed to myself.
Dana slowly sat up and glared at me. " Heather, what the hell is wrong with you?"
She wasn't asleep. She was wide awake and bawling her eyes out. Oops.
"What the hell is so goddamn funny about getting kicked off the basketball team for being two fucking inches too fucking short?!"
I instantaneously felt guilty for inadvertently laughing at Dana. That said, I couldn't stop.
I wasn't laughing because I thought the fact that she stood five foot eight kept her from playing basketball for our school was funny. I laughed because her handkerchief matched her socks. I have no idea why that was so funny, but I'm pretty sure it went beyond the matching socks and handkerchief. I want to say it was the Hello Kitty pattern printed on it. For some weird reason, it's kind of amusing to see somebody Dana's size with personal effects that have Hello Kitty on them. Dana's not small. She stands 5'8" and weighs pretty damn close to 200 lb. She could do a lot of damage if she roughed you up. "Anyway, Dana" I said, "I think the school has it wrong."
"How?" she said quietly.
"I saw somewhere that the best basketball players in the world aren't the tallest, but the people with the longest arms. They should let you on the team because your arms are so long."
I think saying that was enough to calm Dana down. She took a couple of deep breaths and blew her nose. I only thought some of her peers said this to make her look stupid, but no. It really did sound like one of those weird pink hairless camel things from Star Wars saying, "hey there, ladies".
"Heather, you have no idea why this upsets me so much," she said, "I didn't choose to try out for basketball. That stupid personality test we have to do at the beginning of the year said I'd be good at it. I hate that test, I can never answer the questions properly!"
I looked at her with a puzzled look on my face, looking puzzled. My eyebrows did their best impression of Volkswagens parking. "I'm not following"
"It's not important, Heather. What's important is that I'm afraid."
"OK" I nodded, "Afraid of what?"
I could start to see Dana quiver a little bit. I got the sense of even saying this really freaked her out. "Basketball was supposed to be my last stop. This was my last chance, and now because I'm no good at anything, I'm afraid they're going to harvest my organs."
"You're being ridiculous, Dana," I responded, "they're not gonna do that"
Dana looked at me and blinked. "Are you serious?"
"I'm positive," I said in a reassuring tone, "That was just a movie."
"That was a movie?"
"Yeah, and not a very smart one to watch after snacking on the art teacher's private supply of gummy sharks."
I'm not going to insinuate that Dana broke into the art teacher's office and stole a couple of the gummy sharks. If I recall correctly, some idiot had put the gummy sharks out of the guidance counsellors office as office candy as a prank (there's always some joker in every class that does stuff like that). Several people, Dana included, help themselves to the gummy sharks. I don't think any of them had any idea just what they ingested.
Dana nodded and chuckled. "Heather, help me out here. Have we become so politically correct that you had to get a prescription for gummy sharks?"
I froze. "No, Dana, That's not the reason the art teacher needed a prescription for the gummy sharks."
"It's not?" Dana asked.
"Nope, but I'll give you a hint why the art teacher needs a prescription for the gummy sharks," I said, "it's the same reason why you're freaking out."
"I get it now," Dana said, chuckling. She then tilted her head to one side, "How come they tasted the same as the normal gummy sharks?"
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Empathy for the Devil Re-Read: Chapter 6
We Give You the Whole Seat but You Need Only the Edge
Ayy that means more room for friends!
Sunset Shimmer could confirm the universe had it out for her now
Nope, just Marvel.
Not me, ily Sunny, its my sinister counterpart who puts you through such torturous events.
Not that I wouldn’t do the same. We do sinister things to the characters we write about.
...and not at all in the fun way.
You horny mad-lass
A very productive Thursday for Sunset indeed.
Well you learn a lot from failure.
Applejack considered the idea, plucking her bass as if she wished it would turn into her mother’s old acoustic guitar that she only ever broke out for special occasions. Sunset had only seen the thing once, on the anniversary. It was the sweetest song she’d ever heard Applejack play.
;~;
Pinkie leaned into her own hand, smushing the freckles of Applejack’s cheek. “I just think you’re neat.” A flowery pink overcame Rarity’s cheeks. “
Quoi
Rarity blushing at the body of Applejack saying that?
I don’t know how it works if I’m honest, but I can always try if you want me to.”
WE ALL WANT YOU TO TRY YOUR BEST. AND BY GOD, DO YOU TRY AND WE LOVE YOU FOR THAT!
...but Flash didn’t seem to understand what made him Flash.
Oh no my poor boy really does have an identity crisis.
Just like Sunny
HMMMM
She held her cheeks, and between that and the pigeon toed stance it was starting to get really easy to tell that that was Twilight.
Baby
Everyone is baby
Rainbow Dash grinned a terrible grin entirely too sinister for Fluttershy’s face. Sunset pitied the woodland creatures that ever fell victim to that smile
I imagine it as the smile of a capitalist about to pave a whole forest and put up a mini mall.
A counsellor was the last thing she needed right now
~Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies~.
Let me do some recon on him first just to be safe.”
Splinter Cell time
And he would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for us meddling teens!”
Oh Spikey-wikey-poo! Where are you?!
“‘Xactly,” Applejack said, firing a finger-gun. “I wouldn’t put it past our luck for the next person we end up saving from some stolen Equestrian magic to wind up being the new guy we don’t know nothing about. Introducing yourself to us is gettin’ to be a tell.”
The others, while uncomfortable, murmured in some semblance of agreement, Twilight saying, “Cynical, but not wrong…”
Glad to see we actually finally listen to Applejack
Sunset hoped she looked convincing with Twilight’s hands planted on her hips, if for no other reason than to demonstrate to her girlfriend that she could look this leaderly if she wanted.
Ah yes showing off more leadership skills, you are totally not the leader they need Sunset, no sir-ree-bob.
Then again, even if you weren’t intended to be their leader, you’re still pretty good at guidance, ain’t ya? Oh boy, what could you do with your life that would have to do with guidance and teaching others to be the best they could be? Oh how cruel life is for you Sunset, what ever shall you do with your life after high-school? If only life could send you a sign.
The last time she sunk her fingers into Twilight’s hair she’d been having far more fun
WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO HORNY
Guess I’m going to counselling, then.”
FINALLY
Would it be hypocritical to tell Principal Celestia who I really am to get out of this?
Might be responsible if you tell Big Sunny the whole story
Sunset was astonished Twilight sacrificed an excuse to study for these weekly one-on-ones.
Maybe that's a sign, SunnySunSun?
SunSin.
Sunset Sinner is gonna be your new name with how horny you are all the time. Also the whole “I’m a terrible devil” thing.
What did they even talk about? As far as Sunset was concerned, Twilight was already perfect.
Maybe you should check the colour of your glasses there Sunset.
diametrically opposed-
-Foes. Cannot read this without thinking of Hamilton.
Ponies knew how to do overdramatic right in Sunset’s opinion.
But Sunset, you are pony.
Doesn't that mean you're overdramatic? Maybe it’s time for some self-reflection.
She isn’t my Celestia, she reminded herself and felt properly stupid for needing a reminder in the first place
She could be tho ;;;;;
Sunset sighed and started on her way to grabbing the doorknob as if the false-gold would transform into a steaming cast iron upon her touch. She hesitated before she could, turning away on stiff legs and mentally swore her heart out for pounding on her chest like a drama queen. She was very glad no one was there to see her embark on this facial journey as she mimed wringing her own neck.
From an outside perspective, it may have appeared Sunset had a very intense shouting match with the empty hall on mute.
Honestly this is just hilarious.
Just do it Sunny. Do it for the gf
Do it for your friends
Do it for yourself
The drama department was my only safe harbour
You know, would Sol make fun of himself like that if he really WAS evil?
Mostly, it was to rage against the machine and all that, but also, well, you know how other school age kids can be. I wasn’t going to let anyone treat my sister as if she were second rate.”
I... damn.
You know, it does make it an odd thought. In this world, the fate of the world was never on Celly's shoulders, she never had to stop NMM.
And there she was, standing up for her sister rather than sending her away.
What else is different? What else could be different?
Sol? Sunset wrinkled her nose. Were they... flirting in there?
Pretty weird watching a parent figure flirt, eh?
Also
Sol is a unique nickname for Solstice. Especially since it all refers to another Sun diety. Maybe Sunset doesn’t get a new mother figure in Celestia, but a father figure in Solstice here.
Before she could gag, Sunset took it upon herself to put a stop to that. At the very least, something got her through the door.
So, Timber cockblocked you...
And now you gotta do the same to Celestia
Weekly Bevin appreciation time for the pic in this part! I mean props on the background, I’ve been around enough artists to know those are generally universally hate. But back to the characters in this scene - honestly it’s all really great. Again, the angle and perspective, you can see the concern on Twilight’s face, how worried Sunset is. Also these are super good reminders that I’m supposed to be picturing Sunset is in Twi’s body. The casual attitude of Sol, the little details like his adorable penguin mug, his hand on the folder, perhaps information on Twilight? And that Celestia laugh, looks so damn genuine.
vampiric skin that hadn’t seen enough sun and hair so devoid of light
Amazing how someone's POV alters the description to suit a narrative. Yes I’m defending him.
His skin was gonna see a whole lot more sun if you didn’t interrupt.
In her more rebellious years (keyword: more), she’d briefly debated dying her own hair just to see the Princess’s reaction when she finally returned home to Equestria but thankfully thought against it (since the good dye had been too expensive for her micro-budget at the time).
That's... actually a lot to unpack. She was feeling rebellious earlier first of all, wanted to freak Celestia out; she had a micro-budget, from what? I mean I know she probably didn’t get paid, just like, room and board for lessons and stuff, but where’d she even get enough money for a micro-budget and why was it like that.
Sunset be like: “What up bitches I’m the Princess’ protégé, let’s make out, oh and uh can you pay for dinner? Thaaaanks.”
Good job, Sunset, she thought. You’re just as good at lying and manipulating as you used to be. Congratulations.
That's a funny way of saying you know your girlfriend pretty well. Or at least are good at understanding another person to see where they come from and why and how they behave. Now where might a skill like that come in handy? What possible career is out there for you? If only you had some guidance or a teacher, or maybe even someplace that could help you figure out if those would be good careers for you.
There were things Twilight said in here she didn’t tell their friends? What could Twilight possibly have to say to Celestia that she didn’t already tell Sunset?
Okay yes that's one takeaway but MY takeaway is that she DID tell Sol things she would've told her friends.
Which is weird because it's like saying "This man will be your friend" and also "I probably told him all your second deepest darkest secrets like how you’re dating a pony from an alternate universe and anything else you might’ve shared during late night sleepovers that suddenly get super serious and philosophical and tf knows what else."
Okay yeah a lot of that is probably common knowledge just from going to that school but STILL.
The idea that maybe Twilight was still struggling the same way she was at Camp Everfree and hadn’t told Sunset or the girls, or that Sunset and her Equestrian magic somehow contributed to it? It was like plunking ice cubes into her stomach.
Can't keep dropping certain feelings on friends or even an SO.
Therapy is needed for that.
Solstice Shiver’s calm exterior lent itself well to gentle smiles. Enthusiastic grins, he didn’t seem to have the energy for, but the understanding in his expression made Sunset want to open up to him. Almost.
Ah yes, the hot new fantasy - a professional mental health expert seducing you into sharing your thoughts and feelings and make you a better person.
MOVE ASIDE HANDHOLDING, THERE'S A NEW DEGENERATE THOUGHT IN TOWN.
Sunset hugged her arms. So maybe he’s not outright against magic? It was hard for her to really tell.
Yes, give in, let the anger flow through you.... and out. Uncle Iroh would be proud.
I need some time to think about it—um, if that’s okay with you?” Sunset mentally high-fived herself for peppering in that uncertainty
Sunset, I think I know your type: anxious, unsure, adorable disaster bisexuals.
Wait, that's you too!
Everyone's a mess! What do you get when you combine three disaster bi's?
A catastrophe!
The difference being that SciTwi and Flash are relatively verbally open about it
Meanwhile it pervades the rest of your life and you pretend like it doesn't. Maybe Timber too, can’t really know what he’s thinking.... unless you use your powers on him.
I do,” Sunset lied, like a lying liar.
Ooooh careful Sunset, I think your pants might be catching fire.
Oh no, Trixie has a holster now.
Omg Trixie
But you know I'm proud of you, you're learning! You're gonna be a great magician some day
Don’t go telling the school Trixie has feelings
Trixie drank in air like a refreshing taste of stream water on a long mountainside hike
I can almost taste it~
Wow. You’re a good listener.
Inb4 Trixie goes to the real SciTwi later to have a friendly chat.
But also more evidence pointing to Sunset potentially being a therapist as a career.
Between you and me, I think your girlfriend could use some counselling, too.”
SUNSET, YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD GO WHEN TRIXIE OF ALL FOLKS IS GOING!
Sunset’s fine! Why does the whole world want her to go to therapy all of the sudden?
Pfft, I realize that they’re both technically talking in the third person. Very clever.
Because the whole world now knows how you feel and everyone agrees, you need therapy.
Honestly this book should just be titled: Sunset goes to therapy
Wait... It, it is already, isn’t it?
If empathy is understanding what a person is feeling, and it’s a therapist’s job to understand feelings in order to know how to help that person deal with those feelings, and... and Sunset considers herself horrible and bad - a.k.a. the devil...
Son of a bitch...I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out. For the longest time I thought it was just a variation of Sympathy for the Devil, using Empathy because that’s what makes it a Sunset Shimmer story.
...past (which, after all, wasn’t today)...
YAAAAS
...saw it fit to give the school almost too much money for this one specific thing.
Actually they gave funding for Sunset destroying the school but then it just happened on a regular basis, so the off year that there was little damage done they just put it towards new shit and said something else destroyed the old one.
Hollow Shades High
So uh, what’s going on over there? owo
I’m so sorry my friends have been doing that lately and I absorb their mannerisms like osmosis sometimes.
The electricity of their competitive spirit
AND a certain blonde haired gal?
“And he’s in your body, so he’s got all your super cool moves now!” Pinkie Pie chirped, kicking out her legs. It still didn’t look natural to see Applejack with so much (possibly boundless) energy. “That’s how that works, right?”
You know, I was gonna say it wasn't, but then again, does muscle memory transfer? Or in this case I guess, does it stay?
He seemed to catch on that it didn’t help
I love this boy. Things make sense only as he goes along. He's one second too late to be properly socially aware but always tries to rectify it.
These mannerisms kinda sound familiar though...
*sweats*
“You know, I never asked them. I’d say there’s a high chance of probably.” He angled his hand in a vaguely comme-ci-comme-ca motion. “I’ve seen it played before, if that helps. Is the most important part reacting to injuries? I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m a master over-reactor. Referees love that, right?”
This entire paragraph is absolute pure 100% gold.
Rainbow Dash buried her face in her hands. “I’m never going to college. Goodbye degree.”
Okay, so I find this even more interesting? RD actually wants to get a degree, through a scholarship sure, but the degree is what matters. Not being a sports star. I wonder what she's taking? Kinesiology? Health and Physical Education? Archaeology? Lot of cool adventurers are archaeologists - Lara Croft, River Song, Indiana Jones, Daring Do, etc...
More pressure per game probably worsens performance overall proportionally. I bet there’s an equation for that…” Sunset saw why he and Twilight had dated.
Honestly dude, I'm impressed. Absolutely jacked, funny, and smart. What more can you ask for? Seriously, why did they break up?
Telling Dash’s dad about the volunteer position had been the best possible practical joke revenge Sunset could ever think of.
Revenge? For what exactly?
“Yeah! Woo! Way to sports!” Twilight added cheerfully, clapping
Oh my goood
What an adorkable cheerleader.
Fencing club fences and how all of ‘em go together for the LARP club. I don’t even know what a LARP is!” She aimed an eyebrow toward Pinkie.
LARP? Oh Applejack, it's just acting/improv, *wink wink*. You should do it to impress your gf. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the opportunity to design new outfits.
Or are you you? We’ve sort of just decided to say you’re Flash and I’m Twilight for simplicity, but what constitutes Flash Sentry or Twilight Sparkle, anyway? The other me in the pony world looks exactly like me, but she’s had different experiences, a whole other life, and she’s a princess but we still call her Twilight! So then which is it?! The body or the mind?”
Sunset’s eyebrows pushed together, but she tried to keep a gentle smile. “Babe, I think you’re overthinking things a tiny bit
Bad Sunset! You promised you could have a deep philosophical conversation about what makes a person a person. Maybe it'll help! But you’re also staying down to earth which she likes soooo, I guess it’s fine.
Also... hmmmm some foreshadowing?
Applejack murmured, “What in the ever-lovin’…?”
I'll bet you are AJ, I'll bet you are... ever-lovin’ Rarity that is
RD's reaction to the game is amazing.
“Or, wait, would it be giving Fluttershy a heart attack…?”
Ah don't worry, Fluttershy's used to that kind of thing, so her body should be just fine by now.
That’s what fashion is for! It’s as I always say,” she began, striking a pose. “Accessories make the girl! Or I suppose in this case, the woodsy dreamboat!” Both Twilight and Flash gawked without a word. Sunset stayed on standby just in case either of them passed out since they’d done the same for her not long ago.
Flash brightened. Sunset had never experienced wanting to protect someone who looked so much like herself
NOW YOU REALLY KNOW HOW WE FEEL IN RAINBOW ROCKS.
Also, same Sunset, same.
And you know, it helps answer the question SciTwi had earlier about what makes a person a person. We are what we do. Rarity is a fashionista, always. Doesn’t matter what body she’s in.
But Sunset isn’t quite there yet is she? She still acts like the leader of the Rainbooms she is, but she doesn’t know what to do with that. Even more so, how can you be the leader of the Rainbooms if they all go off on their own separate ways after high-school? How can you put the self together if you don’t know how to apply what you’re good at? If it’s all just ramshackle skills put together, a lot you don’t and can’t use anymore. What is the self, if all your past experiences are useless and you can’t do what you were raised to do? How can it be that we are what we do, if we can’t apply what we did then to what we do now? Must we then start over? A blank slate and a late start, fifteen years behind everyone else? And more, how can you be yourself if you’re pretending to be someone else? Would you start to become them?
What I’m trying to say is, I think there’s things we haven’t talked about and that could be manifesting in other ways.
Oh most certainly
A-and it wouldn’t be a break!
You know, I wouldn't be surprised if SciTwi watched Friends in an effort to try and understand... well... friends.
Sunset rubbed her face and managed to stall any welling behind her eyes before it could start.
WOW
NOT OKAY
MY BABY
PLEASE JUST AT LEAST... HUG OR SOMETHING
THAT’S IT, I’M SORRY, I NEED TO GO... CHANGE THE HEADLIGHT FLUID. GO AWAY NOW PLEASE.
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A monologue from a sad red unicorn
“I remember vividly— almost painfully— every detail about that night at Canterlot High School. I remember the way the dry air tasted on my tongue. I remember the way I thumbed at my fingers, trying my best to fight away the cracked skin that spread up my hands and into my palms. I remember the itch at the back of my neck. At the side of my head. On my thigh, just above my knee. I remember the way my pleather boots hugged my calves— not quite chafing, but not quite not chafing.
“I remember how it felt to grin at the anguished faces of Princess Twilight and her friends. I remember how smug I was, the butterflies bubbling in my chest at the thought of winning, as I hoisted my sledgehammer high above my head. I remember how it nipped at my hands, my muscles only sort-of groaning under the weight. I’d lifted heavier, that was for sure; but it had been a while since I’d done any particularly heavy-lifting. I usually left that to Snips and Snails.
“Being in the human world for that long had been… exhausting, in more ways than one. Being alone most of the time, it wasn’t somewhere I tried to be exponentially engaged. I didn’t exactly have “friends”. I had Flash and his band. Everyone else was just… fodder. They were scared of me, and that’s how I liked things. Intimacy meant a severe lack of privacy; and I had more than enough skeletons in my closet that I didn’t need or want people to go snooping around for.
“Academics was a way to keep me occupied. I was the prized pupil of an eternal being, of course. Basic mathematics was nothing compared to the scientific trajectory of how a Unicorn Princess managed to raise the sun and moon. That being said, physics was always one of my favorite subjects. Regardless, we’re getting off-topic.
“I remember the way my stomach churned and twisted, seeing how whole-heartedly Twilight’s friends put their belief and faith in her. Despite my threats, she didn’t falter. She didn’t show any weakness. It made me feel… Obsolete.
“There I was trying to prove that I was better than her, in every way. Trying to prove that Celestia made a mistake by replacing me. It made me realise that I was the one who made a mistake. I was the one who was wrong. It made five years of sacrifices boil up inside me. What was all of this for if I had been wrong? Where could I go from here, now that Twilight hadn’t taken my bait. Without the crown; her element; without magic how would I ever be anything to anyone-- nevermind Celestia…
“I remember all of it… The pain and the anxiety. The way my anger festered and exploded.
“Most clearly, though, what I remember most is the burning. The searing heat that ripped my flesh from bone; twisting and contorting it into skin that wasn’t quite my own. I remember the hollowing cracks that spread through my spine as large wings pushed and tore at my back— from the inside out— until they flapped to life like a crooked heartbeat.
“I remember the way my nails ripped at their buds. The way my fingers stretched and creaked into place. The way fire and brimstone gave birth to a demon that had been locked inside the cage I called ribs.
“Then I was the one trapped; forced to watch on as she—… as I crushed the foundations of concrete and support beams, tossing the rubble aside like a common piece of garbage. I remember the feeling. The absolute elation upon hearing the cacophony of screams, overlapping each other like some dystopian symphony. It was music to my ears.
“I remember the ash. The asphalt. The salted tears that could only lick from my chapped lips as the rest of my flesh bubbled, begging for me to stop. Begging to just let go. Begging— please, oh please, let there be another way for this to end.
“I remember the light. Unlike before, it didn’t burn. There was a warmth to it, sure, but it was… softer. Safer. I felt like everything was going to be okay. That if I just succumbed to it, everything would be taken care of. That things wouldn’t be so hard anymore. That I could just… sleep, and it would all just feel like a bad dream. That’s right. It was all just some horrible nightmare that I would wake up from, and find Princess Celestia there, by my bedside, ready to tell me that everything was going to be okay. That I was okay. That we were okay.
“But things… aren’t like how they are in fairytales; even in Equestria.
“I remember how it smelled. Burning concrete and flesh wouldn’t make a very good scented candle, I can tell you that right away.
“I remember every ragged breath that forced its way out of my battered, scorched body. Under the pain and the helplessness… Behind all of my ambitious facade of elitism… I was just scared. I was a scared little girl who came here from another world, running away from my problems because I didn’t want to live with the regret of what I had done.
“I chose to push that responsibility and that blame onto Princess Celestia. She was my teacher, so if I had made a mistake, it was because of her ill-guidance, not because I had done anything wrong—”
Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.
“Oh— My apologies Miss Shimmer,” The older woman frowned, checking the time on her wrist. Sunset looked up from her hands as she wrung them, pressing her thumb into her palm as she blinked in her direction. Sunset swallowed thickly and smoothed down the hair at the back of her head before tucking a stray ringlet of red hair behind her ear. I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for this week,” Sunset’s counselor noted, scribbling a few comments down on her clipboard before giving the younger girl another sympathetic smile.
“Oh, uhm,” Sunset fumbled, wiping her hands off on her jeans as she rose from her seat, “that’s okay.”
“It’s nice to see you finally opening up about things though. This is what, our third session so far?” She offered a polite chuckle. Sunset forced a curt smile in response. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re looking a little brighter. Those new friends of yours must be starting to rub off on you, hm?”
Sunset wordlessly collected her backpack from beside the woman’s desk and adjusted the hood of her sweater as she slung the strap over her shoulder. Her only responses to the counsellor’s questions came in the form of hums and grunts. She knew this was just routine. She shook her head and jammed her hands into her front pocket.
The elder woman sat at her desk, falling comfortably into her black swivel chair with a satisfied “Oomf” before twirling round to collect a small card from a pile of identical sheets of paper. “Same time next week? Or is Mr Crankydoodle going to chew your head off for missing another one of his poetics lessons?” the counselor laughed at her own joke. Sunset forced herself to laugh along, more-so out of pity than anything else.
“Uh, yeah. Same time should be fine. I have English with Rarity-- uhm, one of my friends-- so she should be able to keep me up to speed.” She paced over to the counselor's outstretched hand for her appointment card, yet the woman held it firm, fixing Sunset with a stern gaze.
“You’re making progress, Sunset,” she spoke, “remember that. It isn’t easy opening up about things-- especially the sorts of things you’ve been through. But please, come to me if you ever feel like things are getting too much. It’s my job to make your life that little bit easier. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Right,” She flashed a wide smile, tugging the card from between the older woman’s fingers before turning on her heel to leave the room. “Well, uh,” Sunset paused in the doorway, half-opening the door, “Thanks. I’ll see you next week?”
“See you next week, Sunset.”
“Right. Well. Uhm. Bye.”
“Goodbye, Sunset.”
#sunset shimmer#eqg#mlp eqg#maggie drabbles#i dont really know what this is?#i kinda just wanted to write about sunset reflecting on the fall formal#i didnt really wanna upload it to fimfiction either#so here u guys go ig
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The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 11
Oh god, I tried to be fluffy...
Today was the day. I woke up early, my heart racing already. I hit the gym straight away, desperate to burn off some of the adrenaline that was flooding my system, to wear myself out. After two hours training, dawn was only just breaking, it was going to be a long day. After a shower, I stared at myself defiantly in the mirror. My hair was growing out and my teeth were fixed now. Some parts of my face looked normal, but my eyes were wide, showing my fear. I could do this, I could do this, I kept repeating to myself. This was the most terrifying challenge I had had in all the years. Let me fight an army of crazed aliens high on blood lust. Let me run through exploding buildings. Anything but this.
Today, I was going to spend a ‘nice day with the team’. I shuddered again at the sound of Steve saying those words, and begged for a swift death.
After Steve and Bruce had confronted me about becoming part of the team, they’d set about trying to help, but with little success. They asked me to eat in the communal areas with them, but sighed when I took my plate into one corner and ate alone while staring at Hydra data. They’d asked me to come and hang out but seeing me sitting bolt upright on a chair in the corner was apparently off-putting, so they’d decided to force me to engage. I was still unsure about the need for this – why couldn’t we just get on with the mission – but I didn’t understand then their ulterior motives, plus I was terrified of letting my guard down. What they didn’t realise was that during communal meals I sat staring at my screen unseeing, listening to their conversations and desperate to join in. When they hung out in the evenings, I sat gripping my chair trying not to run away when I found myself smiling at a joke, or worse, gazing at Bucky that little bit too long. I was still terrified that if I gave in to my humanity, I wouldn’t be able to survive the guilt and hurt.
So Steve had planned today – the first of many, he threatened. I had to give in to what they were doing, no matter what, and then actually talk about what I was feeling. I’d actually made a joke at that, saying this was worse than all Hydra’s worst tortures, which had made Tony chuckle, but then I felt a wave of guilt that I was making light of all the deaths I’d caused.
So I knew that at 7am, I was scheduled for a ‘team breakfast’ and that Steve was going to show me how to make pancakes for everyone. Oh god, why couldn’t Hydra attack now? Then at 8am, I was due for a counselling session – the first of many, again – with Sam. He wanted to talk to me about survivor’s guilt, and about hope. Was there time to break one of the windows and throw myself off Stark Tower? The rest of the day involved a proper haircut, more cooking, a film show, testing my agoraphobia with a walk in the roof garden (aha, definitely a chance to jump there?) and then a big team dinner, with everyone. Tony had even said that some of the lesser-seen Avengers and their friends were coming – Pepper, who I’d met once or twice, Clint, Thor. Oh god. Tony said he thought I should get incredibly drunk and do karaoke because ‘once you’ve sung to us, you can never feel shame again Moley’ (he still called me that, I was starting to get used to it. Something about Tony made you forgive him most things while also fantasising about strangling him slowly). Steve and Tony had then starting quarrelling about whether getting drunk was such a good idea, and when I heard Tony say ‘what, she and Buck can sing and make dreamy eyes at each other’, I turned and walked out very, very fast. I’d tried so hard to not look at Bucky these last few weeks, I’d gone out of my way to avoid him in fact, but it sounded as if I wasn’t doing well. I had no desire to make dreamy eyes at him, but I still felt drawn to him. He understood the turmoil I was feeling, and since the way he’d cared for me when my memories had returned, I’d had to resist the urge to be near him again. At the time I’d been so lost in my own pain that I had barely noticed him looking after me, but since then I’d started to remember the way he’d carefully lifted me out of the shower and the feeling of his skin against mine; the way he’d made me laugh. Damn it, I’d also started watching him when I thought no one could see, the easy friendship he had with Steve, the way he and Sam would bicker at each other until they both started laughing. His respect for Bruce and his eye rolling at Tony. He was part of the team, more than that, he was a friend to these people, despite what he’d been through and what he’d done. When I saw him once jump over the back of a sofa to wriggle between Steve and Nat to watch a film, putting his arm around both and giving them both sloppy kisses on their cheeks, earning a yell from Steve and a death threat from Nat, then settling down happily to watch the film with them, laughing and stealing popcorn, I had to leave the room hurriedly. They’d accepted him, and he’d accepted himself. Despite everything, he’d found a home and a family. I’d started to want that but I had no idea how I could get there. The voices in my head – the remains of all that Hydra ‘training’ - told me that I couldn’t get there, that Bucky was welcome because of his friendship with Steve, that nobody wanted me there and I believed them. I tried to focus more on the mission but the thought of going out and killing, destroying, that just made me feel even more separate from everyone else. They couldn’t want to know someone who was so intent on killing, so intent on doing everything Hydra had trained her to be.
So here we were though. It was nearly 7 now. I’d done two hours in the gym, showered, dressed. I steeled myself, took a deep breath, and went to make pancakes.
Turns out, I am not good at making pancakes. The team had stood around in the vast kitchen chatting while I focussed on the mission. Eggs, flour, milk, whisking, pan. I could do this. Tony snorted and said I looked deadly as I glowered at the mixture I was whisking, and Nat pointed out that in the right hands, anything was a weapon. I muttered ‘want me to show you what I can do with this whisk, Stark?’ and glared at him, earning a laugh from Steve as Tony backed out of the kitchen, hands up.
I followed Steve’s instructions to the letter, poured the mix into the pan, waited… then carefully slid the blackened lump straight into the bin. And the next one. After my third attempt, I carefully put the pan back down, picked up a fruit bowl nearby and set it on the dining table, then said ‘pancakes are off. Have fruit’, then sulkily flung myself down in a chair. The team burst out laughing and I felt my mouth quirk at the edges, then sighed, and smiled. Nat nudged me and said ‘told you anything could be a weapon – even your cooking’ and I slowly let my head fall so it was resting on the table and groaned. Steve made everyone pancakes after that, and I ate mine slowly, watching the easy way everyone chatted and laughed. I was included and it felt so good, but then I thought about what was coming next and my stomach clenched.
8am and I was pacing the corridor outside one of the Tower’s private offices. I’d braced myself to knock twice but couldn’t bring myself to do it, when Jarvis spoke: ‘Mr Wilson says you may just walk in, Miss Ruby’. Another deep breath and I opened the door.
We ended up talking for two hours. Sam in his role as counsellor was subtly different from Sam-As-Sam. Still kind, thoughtful, funny, but even more patient and gentler than normal. I’d sat in silence for a long time when I’d entered, then blurted out ‘I really don’t know what I’m doing here, there’s nothing I can say or you can say that can change the past’ and he’d nodded. ‘No, we can’t change the past. We might be able to find way to look at it differently so that you can find a future though’. I blinked heavily, I was the one with mind powers but maybe I’d been too obvious about how much I wanted a future, and how much I didn’t believe in one. ‘You’re weighed down by what’s happened, anyone would be, that’s OK. But you’re going to live a long time. Maybe we can find a way to see what’s happened in a different light, so that you can feel you have the right to be happy?’
He was good, I will say that. For two hours we talked, not in great depth as this was just the first session, but I think he found out a lot more about me than I realised I’d said. We talked about the loneliness of being without a family. Guilt about the loss of my family, guilt about what I’d done to other people. About the anger that drove me and the need to find a different motivation. We talked about my feelings of worthlessness, about feeling that nobody could accept a murderer, a torture victim. We touched on survivor’s guilt – how could I deserve to live? We mentioned the lost years, how I’d gone from a child to an adult without guidance or love. Inside I still felt like a 14-year-old and yet I was an adult, and one who’d been through so much. He mentioned PTSD and I said I’d look at it later. Then towards the end, he said ‘you know, we like you. You may not like yourself, and you may think we’re wrong, but we do. You’ve been through hell, no one’s denying it, but we want you here. You have as much right as anyone else in the world to be happy’. He looked at me as tears came rushing to my eyes and without speaking, I stood up and blundered out of the room. I’d need to apologise for that later, but right now I felt overwhelmed. I rushed to the elevator and asked for my floor, then ran for my room and flung myself into my safe corner where I just sat and cried, overcome with all the emotions that had been stirred up
Sam must have alerted Bucky because all of a sudden, I felt someone sit down beside me and wrap strong arms around me. I could no more have held back than I could have resisted Hydra’s torture all those years. I was just a kid, in some ways, and I needed help. I buried my head in Bucky’s chest and sobbed. He didn’t speak, just kept his arms around me, his cheek resting on my hair, until the tears dried up. I took a deep shaky breath and without moving my head said ‘I’m sorry Buck. That was pathetic, right?’ I was so afraid of being judged that it was easier to get in there first.
I felt him kiss the top of my head and squeeze me. ‘You’re a jerk, you know kid?’ he said. ‘You think you have to be stronger than anyone, that you can’t ever show how shit things are. You don’t realise that everyone in this damn Tower is desperate to help you, if you let them. I know, I know, you’re afraid to show weakness, I do understand. And let me guess, you’re afraid to care about people because you don’t want to end up hurting them? Oh and let’s not forget you think no one could ever like someone as terrible as you right?’ I looked up at him, he was giving me a half smile. ‘Nope, Wanda hasn’t taught me how to get in your mind. Just telling you how I’ve felt for years. Btu I had to start accepting that I was wrong. So do you. You don’t think I cried a lot when I got back? Jeez, Steve used to mop me up on a daily basis!’
He gave me another squeeze. ‘Kid, we will take down Hydra. We will. Maybe not as fast as you’d like, but we will. Then what? You’re only a kid and you’ve got a serum-enhanced life span. Once Hydra's gone, there’s got to be something more. So let’s work on that OK?’
I nodded and started to withdraw from him, embarrassed by how I’d clung on despite what he’d said, but he pulled me back in for a longer hug and we sat there until my breathing settled down. I could have fallen asleep I was so relaxed but I didn’t want to hold him up, although I didn’t want to let go either. Eventually he said ‘right, you need to wash your face and get ready for the next horror Steve has arranged for you’. He grinned and let me up. ‘What is it next?’
I thought for a second then my shoulder’s slumped in resignation. ‘A hair cut’ I sighed. ‘Well thank God, that do is an affront to the eyes kiddo’ he said as he stood up. ‘See you upstairs, I wouldn’t miss this for the world’ he said, kissing me on the forehead, and left.
I washed my face, knowing that I’d be unable to hide my red eyes, although there seemed to be nothing secret in this place, and then went back up to the living area. Sam’s words and Bucky’s words felt like little glimmers of hope, ones I didn’t dare look at too closely in case they faded away.
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Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X5
SPOILERS AHEAD!
I’m going to go right ahead and say it. This episode felt like a PSA to me, but it was well done. It was emotional and impactful and the storyline about Bailey’s Mom made me tear up, but at the same time the episode felt very stagnant and I feel like the lives of the other characters didn’t really move forward or go anywhere. It felt like they were all standing still. I liked the conversations between Jackson and Richard and Bailey and Maggie about how COVID has impacted black and brown people more than other races and how unfair that is and how politicians and decision makers need to pay more attention to that.
I loved the conversation between Bailey and Maggie. I liked that they addressed what happened with Maggie’s Mom because that storyline bothered the heck out of me. Maggie treated Meredith and everyone else horribly when all they did was try and help and then she forced her mother to undergo treatments she didn’t want because Maggie couldn’t handle the fact that she was dying and then they just dropped it. I’m glad to see that make a comeback and that Maggie has recognized that what she did and the way she behaved was wrong and is now using that experience to help others.
I loved their comments about guidance counsellors and others assume black people aren’t as bright or as capable as white folks and how insidious that is. It’s not something I’ve experienced myself as a white person, but I’m glad they’re highlighting it. This episode was written by Zoanne Clack who is a black woman and a former E.R. Physician. The previous episode was written by Julie Wong who is an Asian woman and I think it’s great they are utilizing the talent that they have so that people of colour can share their stories and their experiences on a global scale.
By telling these stories through the lives of characters we know and love and can empathize with it allows people who will never have these experiences understand a little bit more. Representation is important and this show has always done a really good job in my opinion of highlighting important topics and social issues in a sensitive and thoughtful manner. These characters are fictional, but their stories are taken from the lives of real people and I think an important step in the process of creating a better fairer world is creating media that reflects people’s realities in order to cultivate empathy so that people who might not otherwise understand or get it have a window into that experience.
Maybe it changes their mind. Maybe it doesn’t. But the point is that it opens people’s minds to the possibility of seeing a side that they didn’t before and that is half the battle when trying to get people to understand someone else’s experience or point of view. I’m going to be seeing my family this holiday season virtually and in small groups from a safe distance. As is the case for many visiting with relatives over the holidays means having to listen to a lot of ignorant opinions, frustrating statements, and in some cases racial slurs and inappropriate remarks.
So I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’m going to handle that this year because my tolerance for that crap has gone out the window. All this to say it’s nice to see good people fighting the good fight to get these stories out there to a global audience so that maybe some people will get it and maybe some good will come of it. And even if it doesn’t seeing characters and stories that represent you on screen is powerful and moving and wonderful and we all deserve that. I teared up watching Bailey suffer with the deterioration and death of her Mom.
The end scene where Bailey describes the patients she’s lost to COVID in the voice over while her and Richard sing ‘My Girl’ to give her Mom that moment of peace and a death with dignity got me. It really put a face on the disease. Watching her and her Dad struggle with it was so hard. I loved Bailey’s voice over where she shared info about the COVID patients she’d lost so far and who they were not just their disease. That was well done. Made me tear up.
I loved the talk between Meredith and Bailey at the hospital and on the beach. This episode wasn’t as shocking as the previous ones, but it was still good. I’m glad Meredith is getting better. I will miss the beach, but I’m excited to see her wake up, get better, and hopefully spend some time with Hayes. Which brings me to my chief complaint with this episode which is where the heck was Hayes?!?! This is the second episode he’s been absent from for no discernable reason and no explanation has been given as to where he is.
I did not sign up for this. A big part of the joy I felt when they announced that he was being upped to a main character was the implication that he was going to be given his own storylines and character development outside of Meredith and his relationships with Abigail, Liam, and Austin. But Hayes being absent when Meredith’s not awake robs of him that. Don’t get me wrong. I love Meredith and Hayes together and all I want is for them to be together and live happily ever after.
But, Hayes has such a rich and interesting backstory and there’s so much to explore there. Richard Flood who plays him brings such a wonderful depth to the character and he deserves to have his own story apart from Meredith and I really want to see him interact with the other characters more. We’ve seen him interact significantly with Jo and Bailey, but I’d love to see him interact with Maggie, Amelia, Jackson, and Owen more. His absence this episode reminds me of the episode after the Conference Episode last season where he was suddenly missing for no reason and they didn’t explain where he was.
I’m confused because he was upped to a main character just before this season started so he should be in every episode or almost every episode like the other characters are. I’m starting to get concerned that the actor who plays him has fallen ill or tested positive for COVID-19 or that he’s dealing with some kind of family emergency and so they had to cut him out of the episode last minute. I hope I’m wrong, but I honestly can’t think of another reason the actor would be missing for upwards of 2 to 4 weeks when these episodes were filmed.
I can’t see his absence being a story choice because it doesn’t make any sense and they haven’t addressed it on screen as they usually do when an actor has departed or needs time off and they have time to write that in. He also doesn't appear to be in the promo for next week’s episode which is strange considering it shows another meeting being held by Richard where some of the other department heads can be seen and we get shots of most of the other characters. After the Premiere aired he appeared in the promo for Episode 3 standing outside Meredith’s window and in that episode we saw them have a heart to heart that I thought was really beautiful and lovely.
At this point it’s unclear if Meredith even knows that Hayes is the one that found her and got her help and is distraught over her condition. He’s the head of Peds which is a pretty important department. Where the heck is he? They can gladly write off other characters in the second half of the season to give him more screen time in my opinion. I really hope the actor and his family are okay. I’d also hate for his sudden absence to wreck Meredith’s storyline.
I love their friendship and flirtations and I’d hate to see her wind up alone or with someone that clearly isn’t right for her and that she doesn’t really love because something unexpected happened with the actor. I really really hope he’s in the mid-season finale next week! Jo suddenly declaring that she wants to quit general surgery to become an OBGYN came out of nowhere and makes no sense to me.
She spent years being with and then married to the Head of Pediatric Surgery and was decidedly lukewarm on the idea of having kids or even being near them. So her and Alex split and in the wake of that she randomly decides she wants to be an OBGYN and deliver babies? What the heck? I’m also confused because I feel like Hayes should have been there because it was a Peds case and he wasn’t and if Jo wants to re-specialize it would make sense for her to talk to Carina or Hayes.
Carina’s a main character on Station 19 and is still reoccurring on Grey’s so she can talk to her for an episode or two, but anymore than that and I think that would fall under Hayes perview because he’s a main character. But he’s currently MIA and we don’t know why. I did love Jo’s scenes with Levi though. They’re always hilarious and I think they bounce off of each other really well. I’m glad that Tom improved and apparently isn’t dying.
I like him with Teddy and I hope they get back together at some point. I’m glad they are choosing to be friends again. More than anything I want Teddy to pick a lane here. Owen or Tom. Pick one and go with it. Stop flip flopping all over the place like a fish out of water. Teddy’s a hot mess these days. I liked Amelia’s speech to Teddy. She has feelings about what Teddy did and didn’t do, but as she says she herself has done horrible things, some of them involving Owen, so she’s not in any place to judge, but she also doesn’t want to be friends with Teddy or really talk to her. And that’s fair. I have to say I love Amelia post-tumour. She’s great.
Also what happened to Casey Parker the resident from last season who was transgender and former military? I really liked him! Where did he go? I’d much rather see him that DeLuca or Nico on screen. Based on what I caught of next week’s promo it looks the COVID situation at Grey Sloan is about to get worse. We see Richard addressing staff in the cafeteria saying that they need to prepare for a surge of patients and that their patient load could double. We’re in May in the current Grey’s timeline so that fits.
It’s apparently also a cross over. I don’t want another cross over. I want to know where the hell Hayes is! And it looks like Amelia is back in the OR and the doctors are treating two teenagers who were kidnapped and held captive. Yikes! And we see Meredith smiling at someone on the beach before suddenly waking up. My guess is that it’s Derek and we are finally going to get to see them embrace and then Meredith is going to return to the land of the living. And hopefully interact with Hayes.
Until next time!
#grey's anatomy#greys anatomy#greys#greys abc#tv: greys anatomy#Meredith Grey#miranda bailey#richard webber#maggie pierce#cormac hayes#teddy altman#tom koracick#jo wilson#levi schmitt#covid-19#review#critique#thoughts#season 17#17X5#fight the power
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Apraxia Awareness Day
Hi! Little bit about me. I was diagnosed with apraxia also known as dyspraxia when I was 2. When I was diagnosed I had very little sounds and I’ve likely had all words and sounds drilled into me by a SLP (speech-language pathologist), I love my apraxia although it definitely affects me and will affect me all my life.
What is Apraxia?
Apraxia is a motor based speech disorder. It’s a spectrum disorder so like autism if you’ve met one apraxic you’ve met just one. Childhood Apraxia of Speech is equal to a diagnosis of developmental verbal dyspraxia.
Signs of apraxia of speech (verbal dyspraxia):
1. Very little babbling as a baby
2. Difficulty putting syllables in the correct order
3. Difficulty saying complex words
4. Being able to pronounce a sound or word one day but not the next
5. Incorrect inflections or stresses
6. Omitting sounds
7. Limited vocabulary
8. Grammar issues
9. Trouble coordinating jaw, lips, tongue
One of the major Speech therapy programs which helps is called PROMPT and is made for CAS. It’s a multi-sensory approach. Although CAS has the word childhood in it, apraxia is a life-long disability and it’s there to symbolize it’s from birth rather than only affects you in childhood. Which is a distinction which isn’t always spoken about.
It’s Me!
I’ve known that I’m apraxic my entire life. I was given the definition that my brain sends messages to my muscles but they don’t respond. I’m a person who if I opened my mouth and I wasn’t focusing you would just hear an accent (a British one). When I’m focusing I’ve been told that my “real” voice sounds like a different person. I can’t flow well or use intonation when I’m speaking in my “real” voice. To me, I have two voices my normal one that everyone hears and I constantly say the wrong articulation in and my “real” one I have when I’m concentrating in speech therapy or in one moment. Where I hit almost every R through the technique over pronunciation. I’ve done acting for a decade now and onstage I use my normal voice. On the other hand, I can’t move my facial expressions on command. I’m always being told I didn’t know you had a disability (I’ve apraxic and I have a LD). As I apparently don’t sound like it. It’s hard because at the same time when I mispronounce a word people laugh at me and tease me and make fun of me. It’s not on me. I can pronounce a word one day and not the next. I hate it, really really hate it as it’s something that feels impossible to control and I’ve done years of speech therapy (and still going) for it. Worse, it’s usually the people I’ve known for a long time including my family (not my parents they are wonderful in supporting me) who do it. I’ve been bullied for not being able to pronounce one of my best friends names. She never told me I was mispronouncing her name as she knows I struggle with Rs and based on the letters in her name I will probably always struggle. She’s never mentioned it but the fact that people who’ve known just how much speech therapy (as it actually tends to be friends who’ve known me for years...) Who’ve felt the need to do so in my hearing range as I sat in that room pains me. My journey has continued from that day. I used to get accommodations in school through my guidance counsellor and LS teacher in middle school. In high school my LS teacher didn’t even know that apraxia/dyspraxia existed let alone that I had it. She knew that I did speech therapy and thus had a speech impediment. This year I’m getting accommodations. I’m getting 25% extra time in presentations and orals to allow me to say all my thoughts as I speak slower to be understandable and I struggle with stumbling over words, articulation and clarity of speech. As well as, in all presentations and oral exams my pronunciation, articulation, and clarity of speech cannot be marked. As that’s out of my control, I also don’t take a spoken language class which helps. As that would usually not be included for that. I take Latin which honestly doesn’t include much speaking in Latin. In the past few years I’ve started advocating for disabilities including apraxia/dyspraxia in my community and online. Through speaking with other people online I’ve started to feel like a belong. I’ve also started talking to people about the side of being the kid in the situation. Its to be noted that I don’t plan to go out quietly. I want to go to the UK and attend dyspraxia events, I want to arrange events where I live, and I want to get further connected into it here. I’m constantly offering myself to be a helpful ear as I’ve done all of this research. I’ve been heavily interested almost none stop for the past 4 yrs. Whenever I have a spare moment I’m looking up LDs, adhd, autism and dyspraxia. I’ve read everything that I can get on it. I enjoy talking about accommodations and if it is fair (it totally is and I stand by my opinion!) This is just a little on my experience of being apraxic. In the future, I’m planning to look at the motor coordination side and focus more on dyspraxia as a whole which I’m not really doing for today.
My Poem
I hate being misunderstood
It's a constant though
I'm consistently reminded that I don't truly speak English
Though it's my mother tongue
My first language
My parents gave up teaching me
French, Greek, Hebrew or any-other
Because i couldn't speak English
I wish it was as easy as growing up
I wish it was as easy as everyone says
I wish that when I say my best friends names people understand me
Because they don't
Because the people who’ve known all along
When they've been there every step of the journey
Yet they can sit around a table and laugh
Laugh at the fact you can't say your best friend's name
Like this is a joke
Like this isn't my life
Each day in and out
Like I'm not here
Sitting, listening to them
Bug me
Listen to them
Again and again
Like I'm a kid
But, I'm 16.
I'm 16, and I can speak
I will speak
I will speak out for those who have a similar story to my own
And different ones too.
I can speak and I will
You might not understand each and every word. It might be like your dyslexic and the letters flip. That's the way words sound when they come out of my mouth to a listener. I thought it was only unfamiliar ones. I guess I was wrong..
Because I can talk
Because I will talk
Because I will not stay silent
Because I'm a girl who's dyspraxic
Because I'm a girl who's disabled
Not differently abled
Because I can talk and always will
But most of all because I'm me and I can speak.
-A Dyspraxic Gal who has lost her voice more than once
#actually dyspraxic#dyspraxia#apraxia#verbal dyspraxia#apraxia awareness day#my writing#also on my blog#neurodivergent#my poetry#poetry
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How my religion taught me to hate
I grew up in a religious family, with Anglican roots. My mother joined a small growing church group, which developed into one of the largest Baptist churches on Vancouver Island. We were part of this same church family from the time I was 4 years old. Now in my 40s, my mother still attends the same group. I am proud that our family was part of and still is part of this growing group that dopes a lot of good and outreach locally in her community. I value relationships and advice from many members of this congregation.
During the troubles of my teenage years, members of this group reach out to me to provide guidance when I was lost, to be supportive when I needed it, and to give advice. One of the most influential people from this church weas my pastor, Mark Buchanan. He was a little man who more often was in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with sandals, instead of a stuffy suit. I loved watching him break the norms, and make people uncomfortable, to make them think about why they felt this way. He would walk quietly to the stage, and this big booking voice would get your attention. He put feeling into his speech, and he challenged traditional ideas, kept you rapt to everything he said, made us laugh and cry, and made sure we understood why we did things. Mark also wrote a book called “Your God is too safe”. I still have my autographed copy of the book as well as a spare handed down from my mom. Admittedly, I never read the whole thing, but the title alone caught my attention, and made me want to research more and break the norms to make sure what I thought was right, instead of just safe and familiar.
My mother always gave me ideas to make me think. She told me from a young age to make sure I knew what I believed, and to know why, and that she would support me in those choices as long as I could support my argument with logic and faith. She may not have exercised this as much as she would like, making sure I went to church without fail, even when I didn’t want to, and being less than willing to explore alternate churches. But the idea and the sentiment were there, and they stuck with me throughout my life.
On my own as an adult, I spent a lot of time talking to people of different faiths, and asking questions about how, why, what for, history of, and more. I learned a lot about different denominations and faiths, alternate religions, alternate deities, wicca and witchcraft, natural beliefs and more. Some were fascinating ideas, some were fantasy style stories that kept the attention but not the faith, and some made me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I avoided them in further research. But nothing fit. So, I stuck to what was safe and familiar, not knowing how or why to believe anything else.
In all my research over the years, some ideas stuck and made it into my daily practice, because they meshed with what I read in my bible, and my interpretation of Jesus love and teachings, even if I didn’t see them in practice elsewhere. Because I spent so much time talking to people of different backgrounds, I had a lot of friends who didn’t believe in the same things I did. My biggest takeaway from all of this was acceptance. They didn’t believe in my god, or read my bible, but they answered my questions, and taught me, without judging even if I didn’t accept what they taught. We debated respectfully back and forth and taught each other whatever we could. Nobody was judged, or ostracised, or ridiculed for those beliefs. We made for a pretty hodgepodge group.
I had Jehovas Witnesses try to convert me. I had coffee and visited with Mormons. I head my cards and stars and palms read by Wiccans. I attended Buddhist weddings in a haunted church at the stroke of midnight on Halloween. I went to church with United, nondenominational, Anglican and more services. I saw people speak in tongues, and believe they were performing healing prayers. I even attended a country revival by a river and marched in an anti abortion silent protest. I spent countless hours debating, and researching to reinforce my debates when I got stuck, and learning different viewpoints.
But I accepted everyone regardless of background. I asked questions that may have been ignorant from simply not knowing. I interrupted classes and speeches and took notes. I stayed open to new ideas, and only asked from others what I would be willing to do myself, such as attending each others services to learn from a different viewpoint. The biggest lesson I ever learned in life was that nobody was lesser because they believed something different, or practiced on a different day, or used a different word for God. I wasn’t better than them, or right or wrong. I condemned no one that I could learn from, and hoped that I could teach them some of the same.
I learned many things I don’t want to be a part of. I learned how I didn’t want to be treated or spoken to. I learned what people could blame on their religion, and how awful you could be made to feel in the name of the Holy. I saw some awful bigotry and hate, both in and out of churches. I made decisions that would shape who I have become. I also learned that no matter who they prayed to or when, or how, the crazy truth of it is: Almost everybody preached the same thing with a few small differences, while they condemned everyone else who disagreed.
I even saw this within my own family. For example, one of my nephews has recently chosen to express himself as transgender. So he becomes She. My sister, his mother, chose to support this in the best possible way. I asked questions like “What name do I use and when” and tried to express the parts I didn’t understand, and learn the rest. I let this child teach me whats he needed and I have tried to support her as best as possible. My children followed my example and made me proud. Come Christmas a couple years later, and our religious mother is visiting from the west, and expressing her opinions. She wanted to take my sisters child to a counsellor to get fixed, behind my sisters back, and hoped that I would help. I said no unconditionally. I found out that my older sister had heard our mother venting about this issues, and ripped into her with her opinion that Mom should stay the hell out of it. I do love that our family is at a stage in life where we can be blunt and rational as we discussed this, since a couple days before Christmas we were throwing around religious and opinion thoughts on the subject. I got to look at my mother and say “to be honest, your opinion doesn’t fucking matter, since it’s not your child to raise”. My mom looked shocked and started to be offended, but then realised it was not calling her out or insulting her, and that it was correct. Then I also got to point out to her that at the very least, she should be proud that she raised three children as a single mother, who could all grow into such loving and accepting people that none of us judged or condemned anyone regardless of their way of life or choices. This is again a very abridged version of this whole conversation, but you get the general idea.
One of the biggest wakeup moments that came in my life regarding religion and peoples attitudes towards it came from a church I attended for a while. After over a year of getting to know people and following their teachings, it came that I would be moving to another city. I mentioned to a few nice older folks what city I would be going to, and received a few recommendations on a church to look out for. One particular gentleman, who always went out of his way to speak to myself and my children, and who I believe was an Elder at the church to be respected, gave me this recommendation. I paraphrase: “You should check out Church A. They have this and this and would love a new family with plenty of kids. And you wouldn’t have to worry about any of those fags and weird shit.”
I knew right then that I would never check out his recommendation, and that I would never return to this church. I have spent time since then really listening extra close to sermons and messages put out by other churches and church leaders, and looking for the nuances and lessons they teach to their youth. Everything is put forth as support “You can make your choices within your faith”, Pro life, we will support you when you choose Gods way, and so very many more. Look up newsletters and ads from your local churches and you will see all of these and more in many different wordings.
Look a layer deeper. Listen to what these messages say. “we will support you in gods path, but believe different and you are alone”. “you are evil for choosing different”. You will go to hell for eternity. Our way is the only way and everybody else is wrong. Its very thinly veiled, but every church I’ve been to is secretly teaching me to hate those that are different and hoping that I don’t notice.
Hate gay people because they don’t follow the bible. Hate abortionists for not supporting this fetus regardless of health or history or any other option. Our way is the ONLY way. You cannot be different. You cannot think your own way. We can’t prove it except through vague scripture and ask for blind faith because we said so. You are evil if you disagree. Don’t look different or act different. Judge others and condemn them for having an opinion. See a theme here? You can see this in all those local church and religious flyers too. Just go have a look, I’ll wait here.
Here’s what I learned in Sunday school as I see it. Choose to follow and consider my opinion, or don’t. Your call!
-The Old testament is a history lesson. Here is what God wants you to do and why. Here is what is good and bad, and here is the struggle we went through to get here. Exactly the same as our kids learning about war and holocaust and local history in school. Learn the lessons because people already went through them and get the theory behind the fact.
-The New testament changed everything. We no longer had to sacrifice because Jesus did it for us. Unclean foods didn’t matter because we were purified in faith. Sinful acts could be forgiven if we asked for it. Love everybody as you wish to be loved. Look at the Good Samaritan, he helped a neighbour he should have hated because that’s what he was taught, but he chose to be a good person anyways, regardless of who was on the receiving end. Jesus spent time with beggars, and the terminally sick, prostitutes, and men who had no other ambition in life. He loved them all the same and he gave them the same message, regardless of their background, or choices, or personal opinions. He didn’t ever treat one person as lesser than the next.
The church teaches us to HATE sinfulness in their interpretation, and to shun those who are different or to try and change them to our own way of thinking. I don’t care what church you go to, it will teach the same. Look at these similarities between religions.. Catholicism, Christians of various denominations, jewish, jehovas witness, Mormon, 7th day Adventists, Islamic, Buddhist, even Native cultures. On a base level, the stories handed down through history are very similar, slightly changed through translation and retelling over time. The morals of the stories are the same. Every different denomination of Christianity has the same base teachings and the same roots. They simply split off because one group within that religion disagreed on a base idea, split off, and taught in their own way. Now 2 thousand years later, we have Baptists and Pentecostals and Lutherans and Anglicans, and more, all telling us that everybody else is wrong.
So who’s right? Only each of us can decide that for ourselves. Look at all the common base lessons and live your life to the best of your ability. Follow Jesus teachings, whether you believe he was a man or a prophet, or the son of god, and love your neighbour unconditionally. Decide where you stand on all the slight differences of opinion. It’s all on your and your choice. But stop spreading hate!
Hate destroys everything that religions of all sorts teach. Hate turns religious peoples into conquerers, terrorists, feuding families, and multiple warring factions. Hate causes pain to those on the receiving end, and stress to those on the giving end. There is no possible positive side to hate.
I chose to avoid churches in general for the last few years because I could not handle listening to the hate, and finding the worst possible bigots and liars within the walls of the churches, pretending to be good people on Sunday mornings so other people would look up to them. One day a week does not get you into the kingdom of heaven. A band I listened to said it the best way possible when I was a teenager, but even though I always remembered it, I never understood it. “The greatest single cause of Atheism today are those that praise Him with their words, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle.” - DC Talk -What if I stumble
Stop living hate when you preach love. Practice the words that come out of your mouth, and truly love your neighbour. His religion, color of skin, gender identity, or relationship status should have no bearing on what kind of person they are. You don’t have to LIKE everyone, or spend time with people you don’t mesh with, but you have no right to judge those that have never done a thing to harm you.
Hate the lies of the church teachings, hate the bigotry, Love the man or woman you see in front of you. We are all fighting for the same thing: to wake up each morning, and enjoy our lives in the best way we know how. Hate in any form robs us from this enjoyment of life. You don’t have to believe in God or the Bible to live a good life and be good to others. You only have to have faith in humanity, and making this a good place for everyone to enjoy. Be excellent to each other.
Hate is Baggage. Life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Its just not worth it. – American History X.
#religion#opinion#personal#essay#personal essay#hate#love#teachings#life lessons#learning everyday#thoughts on tumblr#writings#nick paterson#christianity#baptist#anglican#lutheran#evangelican#beliefs#growing up#thinking out loud#more than a thought
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baby project
pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton
jay deliberately misses a health credit and is forced to take a parenting class with his favourite blonde. this includes a weekend with a fake baby, little sleep and heart-to-hearts.
“what are we naming her? i promised adam i would consider his name as an option.”
(high school au)
masterlist
warnings: swearing, fluffery
“time to hand out your new babies!”
jay’s face paled.
how did he manage to get himself into this situation? he deliberately missed a health credit, hoping his extracurricular activities such as sports would be enough. but clearly, he wasn’t that lucky after being pulled into his guidance counsellor’s office and being told his only option was to take a health class specifically focused on parenting. at such late notice, it was the only class with an open spot that could count towards his requirements.
it was mostly fine.
hailey happened to be in that class and he was able to half-ass through it because his best friend is ridiculously smart. she’d only huff when he inched over to peek at her notes but even she couldn’t resist his grin.
however, this was an assignment where he couldn’t use his excellent level of bullshit. it was the final project of the semester and worth 30% of their final grade. in pairs of two, they were to care for a fake baby, who in reality, acts just like a real baby. it recorded everything and if you took too long to respond to its crying, or hold its neck the wrong way, it docked marks.
luckily for him, hailey agreed to be his partner, because he genuinely believed he’d fail without her. unfortunately, her genius brain alone was not enough to help them excel in this project.
“halstead, boy or girl?”
oh, and the best part about this course? they had been short on teachers at the beginning of the school year, so somehow jay’s lacrosse coach (who hates everything and everyone) was convinced to teach the course.
jay looked at hailey in a panic, unsure of his answer. “uh, i don’t know?”
“that’s not an answer, halstead!” coach jacobs yelled before throwing a baby simulator dressed in light pink in his direction. jay stumbled a little but managed to catch it. hailey cringed when she saw his hands wrap around the baby’s neck. the whole classes’ eyes flickered back to coach jacobs. “that doesn’t count,” he muttered before continuing to hand out the babies in a more civilized manner.
assuming that the simulators hadn’t been turned on yet due to the way it made no noise whatsoever after being chucked halfway across the room, jay gently placed it back on his desk. “it’s a girl,” hailey said softly, staring at her in admiration from her desk beside jay.
jay found himself staring at hailey, his heart fluttering. the way hailey was smiling at the baby, as if it was—and god forbid where his mind was dragging him, but as if it was theirs—was making his heart do all sort of weird things in his chest. jay and hailey had always been friends, but over their junior year and now in their senior year, he’s starting to feel things.
he cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting her a nervous grin when her blue eyes moved up to his face. “what are we naming her?” before hailey could chime in, he continued. “i promised adam i would consider his name as an option.”
“we are not naming our daughter adam,” she deadpanned with the utmost seriousness, but jay was too busy avoiding an aneurysm at hearing ‘our daughter’ to focus on anything else.
“adamella?” he choked out, because when in doubt, always make a joke.
hailey shook her head. “over my dead body.”
“i’ve always liked the name sophia,” jay shrugged, catching her eye to gauge her reaction.
she sent him a soft smile. “i really like that. let’s do it.”
the sweet moment was cut short when coach jacobs clicked a few buttons on his computer with a smirk. “alright suckers, get ready for the worst weekend of your lives!”
his statement was proven when half the babies in the room started screaming.
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
it was somehow decided that hailey would take baby sophia for the first night (because she’s more likely to not completely destroy the simulator than jay), then she would make her way over to jay’s house on saturday.
that was the plan. however, plans always change.
the first few hours went great. the baby cried but was easily soothed with a diaper change or a quick bottle. hailey was able to get the baby to sleep around 9:30 and ended up falling asleep herself after watching a movie on netflix.
she was woken up at two in the morning with soft cries, so she blearily picked up baby sophia and chimed her with her bracelet. she tried giving her a bottle which didn’t quiet her down and neither did a diaper change. she tried cuddling her and rocking her but to no avail; hailey pulled on her blonde hair, wondering if the cries she’s hearing are hers or the baby’s.
“baby, please go back to sleep,” hailey begged.
after another fifteen minutes of incessant crying, hailey decided to call in reinforcements. she shouldn’t be the only one suffering.
she quickly dialed jay’s number and prays he isn’t in a deep sleep where he won’t hear his phone. if that’s the case, she has half a mind to drive over and stick him with baby sophia so she can finally sleep for a bit. luckily, he picked up after a few rings.
“hello?” he mumbled sleepily.
“jay halstead!” hailey hissed over the phone, so sharply that he scrambled to sit upright in his bed and hold the phone tight to his ear. “you better get your ass over here before i murder you! i am dying over here!”
jay rubbed his eyes; he could hear the faint crying of sophia and sighed. “come on hails, it can’t be that bad.”
he could picture the absolutely furious and incredulous expression on her face. “are you kidding me, jay? how about i abandon you with this child, and then we’ll see what isn’t ‘that’ bad?”
“sorry,” he mumbled, nearly dozing off again.
hailey knew him too well. “jay!” she snapped and he flinched awake again. “i better see your face in ten minutes or you’re taking care of sophia the rest of the weekend by yourself!”
“shit okay,” he grumbled, grabbing a random sweatshirt and joggers. “i’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“it’s been over half an hour of this, you have ten!”
jay groaned as he hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair. by the tone of hailey’s voice, he knows better than to make her wait any longer. jay arrived at hailey’s house with one minute to spare and grabbed the key lodged under the welcome mat. as soon as he walked in the door, he could hear faint cries.
at this point, he’s not sure if the cries are baby sophia’s or hailey’s.
he had barely gotten through the threshold of her bedroom before his baby was shoved into his arms. “oh okay,” he mumbled, stumbling on his feet. hailey’s blonde hair was tied back into a messy ponytail and her eyes are rimmed red.
“thank god you’re here,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. she was undoubtedly making them even more irritated. “she hasn’t stopped crying, i’ve honestly done everything, i don’t know what she—” hailey’s words abruptly stopped because for the first time in hours, all she can hear is silence. “what the hell?”
jay looked just as confused as she did because it literally only took a few seconds before the baby quieted down once settled in his arms. hailey looked exasperated.
“you’re never leaving,” she replied quickly, staring at him in awe. “you can’t leave me alone with her again. i think she hates me.”
jay leaned against her desk, shooting her a disgruntled look. “relax, i’m sure that’s not true.”
“whatever,” she huffed, sitting down on her bed. “you can probably put her back now. i think she’s cried enough for the night.” jay slowly placed her back in her car seat. “can you imagine having a baby at this age? god, i couldn’t do it.”
she could barely make it through an entire night with a fake baby, much less a real one.
jay took a seat beside her, a generous amount of space between them. “i can’t imagine having a baby, no. i think it’s physically impossible, but i might be wrong.”
hailey laughed, hitting his shoulder in response. her actions brought her a little closer to him. “shut up. i’m still mad at you for abandoning me.”
“sorry,” he smirked in response. “i promise i’ll spend the rest of this weekend attached at your hip. i think that’s only fair after the night you’ve already had.”
hailey sighed happily. “you always know what to say, don’t you, halstead?”
jay shrugged his shoulders and felt his cheeks heat up slightly. “i wouldn’t say that.”
hailey wasn’t sure what was bringing it on, but she felt the sudden need to let him know just how much she appreciated him. he was always ready to help out, regardless of the obstacles. he always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better, and even if it didn’t, he would always be the one to tell her exactly what she needed to hear. jay had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever known and it had been damaged far too many times.
“hey, i’m serious,” she said softly, ducking her head down to catch his green eyes. “i appreciate you.”
jay chuckled nervously and before he knew it, his fingers were tangling together because he didn’t know what to do with his hands. his nervousness only got worse when hailey grabbed onto his hand.
“i think you’re more tired than you thought,” jay responded softly. his gaze focused on their hands. there had always been a connection between them; it’s hard to be just friends when you’ve known each other for so long.
hailey smiled. “yeah, i think i am,” she leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “we should probably get some sleep bef—”
sophia’s loud cries cut her off before she could finish and hailey groaned, burying her head into his shoulder.
“don’t worry hails, i’ve got you.”
🌼
p.s. i genuinely love the name sophia, and it has nothing to do with sophia bush/erin lindsay. hope you enjoyed!!
#upstead fic#upstead fanfic#upstead fanfiction#upstead au#jay x hailey#jay and hailey#hailey and jay#hailey x jay#hailey upton#jay halstead#tracy spiridakos#jesse lee soffer#chicago pd#chicago pd fanfiction#one chicago#one chicago fanfiction#upstead
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