#and i joked that the machine was ���back from the hospital’ to some other coworkers with minimal reception

[deus-ex-mona]

no thoughts; just that singular braincell rattling back and forth yk~~

[yoredoesmore]

The Regular | Hoshina Soshiro ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹

pairing: hoshina soshiro x barista!reader

genre: romance/slight angst/ | [wc: 1,7k]

a/n: came up with the plot as i was writing away so i hope it makes sense :0 well, enjoy!

He was a regular at this point. He came in every Sunday at around the same time– his only day off you assumed, and ordered the exact same thing every visit.

Two Mont Blanc and a cup of black coffee.

The mysterious man would sit down at the exact same table where he always sat, wearing the usual, monotone expression on his face while waiting for his dessert. Sometimes he would carry a sports bag with him, sometimes he would come empty handed. You would catch him looking at you a few times, perhaps because he was checking to see if you were working on his order already.

Everyone knew him, even the other regulars, yet at the same time it seemed like people kept their distance from the individual. He did give off a mysterious and rather serious vibe. Like that one character in every book or movie who simply existed to assert some kind of calming effect on the audience. The staff, including you, believed that he wanted to be left alone thus everyone kept interactions to a minimum.

At some point the waiters didn't even check up on his table anymore to ask for his order. They would simply appear, place the two Mont Blanc and the coffee in front of him and carry on with their work.

But you didn't.

Not because you tried to stand out or make an extra tip by being interactive or friendly but simply because you believed that one day he would switch up on his order. But there was something else about him, something that made you feel drawn to him, urged you to interact as much as possible– be it a simple exchange of smiles or small words of gratitude.

It was a regular shift like always. Sundays were quiet and tranquil, with no soul disturbing the peace of the café. Being located in a more rural area of Tokyo had its ups and downs for a café yet you were immensely grateful for the quiet this area brought. Life has been treating you rather unwell lately and the least you needed was a busy workday. Especially your head injury has been acting up again but you tried to power through it. How long as it been since your last checkup? The effects of the surgery continued to bother you to this day but you were at least grateful that you were allowed to return back to work almost immediately! Any day longer at that hospital and you would have gone insane.

You spend most of your shifts cleaning up the pantries and making sure that everything, napkins, spoons and cups, were fully restocked– lightwork to put it simply, strictly ordered by your boss. The only other person on the shift with you took care of the orders and tables, just like today. It was empty enough for one person to handle the job but you were ready to jump in whenever your help was needed.

A subtle ringing of the bell above the door signaled that a new customer had entered the café. Your coworker stood behind the coffee machine, hands full taking care of a larger order, thus you took it upon yourself to guide the new customer to their seat.

“Good evening.” You smiled as your eyes fell on the all too familiar face of the mysterious regular.

“Please follow me to your table.” As always, his seat stood empty. The man mumbled a thank you and wasted no time in placing himself down on the leathery brown. Just as you were about to reach for your notebook you realized that it was not on your person anymore. A flush of embarrassment rushed through your face as you excused yourself from the table and told the man that you would be back in a second.

It's probably in the storage room..

You thought, recalling the image of you taking note of all the ingredients that had to be restocked. On your way back your coworker passed you by, stopping you temporarily in your steps.

“You don't need that with him.” He joked, pointing to the notebook and continued to walk past you. It was a playful remark, nothing more than a silly comment but it got you thinking.

“I apologize for my delay, sir. I'm ready to take your order now.”

His gaze rested on your figure for a while, subtly drinking in your image before he answered with a smile.

Despite not feeling well you tried your best to present yourself in a positive way. These costumers came to this café to rest and leave the worries of the day behind. There was no need to bother them with your personal problems or cause them worry.

Yet..it still felt like he was able to see right through your facade.

“A coffee please and two Mont Blanc.”

The usual..

You wrote down his order, earning another glance from him but you continued to stay by his table even after you finished scribbling.

“Can I offer you anything else? I– I mean we noticed you sticking to this particular order every time you visit. The staff of Third Division likes to keep a close eye on their regulars and..I was just wondering if you'd like to try something different maybe..”

Those words sounded different in your head, more welcoming and alluring. But the way his eyes were staring into yours, so intense that you felt like he was poking holes through your body, it caught you off guard. But nothing could have prepared you for what he did next.

He smirked.

The nonchalant expression he usually kept on his face throughout his entire stay dropped and what now graced his face was a smug grin.

“What can you recommend?” He teased.

Many emotions rushed through your system. Surprise, shock and confusion. Was this the first time you heard him talk? At best he would mumble a small thank you when paying the bill or when stating his order but personally that was the most you heard him say. His Kansai dialect was strong and present, it surprised you. Yet something about his voice felt warm, comforting even, as if it was meant to be listened to.

“Uhm..we have a great blueberry cheesecake, it's my favorite! And of course our lemon tarts or the pistachio croissants could really hit your spot since you like nuts so much..maybe the chocolate eclairs too..” Your mind began to drift towards all the items that were currently on sale. The dreamy look on your face earned you a chuckle from the man.

“I will take the blueberry cheesecake, since that's your favorite.”

“Coming right up!”

As if all stress was forgotten and a dark cloud was lifted from the sky, you cheerfully moved back to the counter, preparing the man's order. Upon seeing how busy you got your coworker approached you, eyes scanning over the cake you were carefully placing onto a nice plate.

“Who's that for?” He asked.

“Table number three.”

“Table number three..no way!” The man's gaze moved to the table in the distance, eyes widening twice their size.

A sense of pride rushed through your body. It was something so silly to get excited over yet delivering this cake made you happy, jolly even, in some kind of way.

“One blueberry cheese cake, enjoy.” And without any more interference in his stay you let the man be. Your eyes did move over to his side every now and then, making sure that he was enjoying the food you recommended him but eventually you were so busy with your workload that you lost sight of the customer.

And when you returned from your short bathroom break you noticed that his seat stood empty.

“He just left.” Was all your coworker said, also heavily occupied with new orders.

“But he did leave this.” Holding out your hands you let your coworker drop the small item into your grip. It was a napkin. No time was wasted in unfolding the soft tissue.

That blueberry cheesecake was great! But nothing compares to the Mont Blanc and the memories it brings ╮(─▽─)╭

Still, I appreciate your effort. Keep working hard and see you next time!

A tingling sensation engulfed your heart as you read the note. Maybe it was the silly little drawing he added or him simply appreciating your effort but it had you feeling a certain way. So without thinking much you grabbed a small box, stuffed it with the two Mont Blanc and rushed out of the store, leaving a confused coworker behind.

“Excuse me!” You almost yelled out, your feet trying their best to catch up with the man. He looked just as perplexed as you when he turned around. And..worried?

“Are you al–”

“I didn't mean to mess up your routine..I'm very sorry.” You held out the small box, arms outstretched while your gaze laid on your feet. No reply followed your words, his eyes simply resting on your shaking hands but soon enough you felt a weight pull at the packet.

“It's not just about the Mont Blancs.” His fingers graced over yours as he took the box.

“Despite me ordering the same thing over and over again you continue to attentively take my order..I guess you could say that I enjoy that kind of attention.” His chuckle caused your heart to throb and skip a beat.

A strong heat creeped over your face, eyes moving into all directions simply to avoid his. But just like always, his gaze stayed strongly fixated on you.

“I will always take your order..so please keep visiting us.” Turning on your heels you waved the man goodbye and returned to the café, your smile enough to illuminate the entire street.

Hoshina smiled and waited for you to disappear into the building before he sighed. His eyes followed you attentively, never leaving your figure. Seeing you in such active motions, it filled his heart with both joy and worry.

It felt like it happened just yesterday, the incident. It was a Sunday like this one, unassuming and calm. But you don't remember most of it, just like you don't remember him. The Kaiju attack, the ambulance, his teary eyes watching you being taken into the emergency room– you don't remember how he always stayed by your side no matter what.

It was absurd of him to think that you would eventually get your memories of him back if he just kept ordering the same thing over and over again, if he kept eating the dessert you two used to make together right in front of you. Perhaps he was a hopeless guy, with the silly dream of getting his old girlfriend back, the woman who owned his heart.

You still did. There was no one who could fit the hole that your body molded. If you can't remember the time and memories you two shared he would simply create new memories with you and make you fall for him all over again.

No matter how much time it was going to take

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

Experiment 1-1-7-0 (Huggy Wuggy x Reader)

When you had received the plans on “Experiment 1-1-7-0”, you had spat out your tea and had called your boss, Dr. Laith Pierre. He had told you that it was by no means a joke and it was one of the most important experiments that they had envisioned. After more explanations from Laith, you had finally conceded and took full commitment into making “Experiment 1-1-7-0”. 

At least two dozen scientists, including yourself, were involved with the experiment. Many people had wanted the credit for this. You felt it was kind of silly as you weren't  hundred percent sure if it would work or not. 

A couple of months later, “Experiment 1-1-7-0” or Huggy Wuggy as you had named him, much to the other fellow scientist’s chagrin, had been a major success but there were a few adjustments that needed to be made. Huggy was extremely feral, obviously from some of the animal DNA that had been put into his body and had ended up being put into a steel reinforced glass cage to keep you and the others safe. 

But you weren’t scared of him. 

When you had started your first shift with the experiment, you had gone straight over to the cage where Huggy Wuggy sat, hunched over in a corner. With a little coaxing, you got Huggy out of his shell a little and have him trust you. 

One of the head bosses had noticed this and had given you a promotion and put you in charge of looking after Hugy Wuggy. You couldn’t have been happier. 

*************

Entering the basement of the factory, you made your way to the clocking machine and then straight to Huggy Wuggy’s cage. 

The large, blue furred creature was no longer slouched in a corner but lying on his left side at one side of the cage. You made your way round to that side of the cage and sat down with your legs tucked in to one side. 

You tapped your fingers gently against the glass that was encased with steel. Huggy Wuggy jerked a little in his sleep and blinked open his large dark eyes. He moved his crescent shaped head up towards you. 

“Morning, sweetie.” you cooed, wagging your fingers in a kind of wave. 

Huggy’s big red lips curled into a big smile and began to sit up a little. 

“Hey, boy. Did you sleep well?” 

Huggy made a loud chirping sound in response and began to shuffle a little closer to the glass wall that divided you. 

“Yeah, that’s great.” you said. “Have you had anything to eat yet?” 

Huggy shook his head in an innocent fashion that made him look adorable, considering the large beast that he was created to be. 

Looks could be very deceiving. 

“Okay, I’ll go and find someone to get your food. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Huggy suddenly made a stage noise that sounded almost like a whimper. It made you halt as you began to get to your feet. The large furry creature was now pawing at the walls with his yellow glove-like paws. 

You stared at him, confused. Then it dawned on you. The only times he acted like this was when you left him after your shift ended. The poor creature often pawed at the glass wall and whimpered as you w9uld say your goodbyes to him. More to the point, Huggy would roar and claw wildly at his cage as you left and the noise would echo throughout the whole factory. One time, he had attacked one of your colleagues sending her to the hospital, all because he missed you. 

Now, the poor thing was thinking you were going to leave him again. 

“It’s okay, boy.” you reassured him.. “I won’t be gone long, I swear. Just to find someone and get your food. I’ll be back soon.” 

Huggy still continued to whimper but relented as you got to your feet and gently made your way over to a coworker. 

“Hey, Ross. Can you get me some food for Huggy?” 

“Sure. I’ll be about five minutes.” 

“Thank you.” 

You then made your way back to Huggy’s cage and typed in the key code: 56437. 

“Holding cell open.” came the automated voice and you stepped inside. 

The moment you stepped in, Huggy’s long limbed arms came around you and pulled you closer to him. Immediately, your ears were swamped with low purring. 

It still baffled you how such an odd creature like Huggy could be so sweet and caring?

You reached up and scratched the spot between his eyes, making the purring grow louder. 

(The End)

[helyiios]

Bedside lullaby

(Brandt/Hunley, 1.5k hurt/comfort drabble. Pre-relationship, but if you squint real hard it’s here)

One shot. One bullet, straight to the stomach. There had been blood, of course. A lot, he’d heard. They’d kept Luther close to him until backup had arrived, and by the time they were there, their Secretary was covered in gore.

Serves him right for trying to be a secret agent à la Ethan Hunt, he thinks, grumbling to himself as he throws his shitty coffee cup in one of the hospital’s bins, leaning back against the corridor’s wall. Some people are meant to give orders from the comfort of an office, there was no need of changing the order of things.

One of the doctors suddenly catches his attention, nodding to him as if to make him understand that he could finally come inside his superior’s room. He’d been waiting for around seven hours, had visited approximately all that a visitor could, had seen the different wings of the buildings at least twice, and had had the time to count the amount of ceiling lights in wing W, which were at a total of 247. How fucking peachy.

“He’s awake,” the man in the white coat tells him, but truth be told, he’s barely listening to him, “he’s extremely numb and vulnerable, so try not to push him too much. The bullet barely grazed his stomach, a few millimetres more and he was a gone man.”

That’s great, thanks a lot.

“Alright,” William Brandt says instead, offering him a tight lipped smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course. We usually only allow family, but the man who was with us in the ambulance gave us your contact info. We assumed he had no other next of kin.”

“Yeah I’m…we’re coworkers,” he defers, technically not lying. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it. Thanks again.”

The doctor nods curtly, exiting the room quietly. Brandt watches him disappear around the corner of the corridor before inhaling deeply, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just spent the most boring and stressful day of his life. And anyway, his face and the dark bags that adorned it would probably tell the story for him. No need to play pretend.

He makes his way inside the hospital bedroom, taking in how spacious it was. The bathroom was wide, and there was a small couch near some sort of diner table. He almost wants to roll his eyes at this—how many missions had he gone through, waking up in the world’s shittiest and least clean hospitals he’d seen ? Talk about special treatment.

His superior is in the bed, one arm hooked to a catheter, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the bipping of the machines, eyes closed. He looked almost peaceful.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” Brandt groans, grabbing a chair and letting it drag on the floor with an uncomfortable screech, “asshole.”

“Ow,” comes the immediate reply, “you could afford to give a little more sympathy to a wounded man.”

“If you had stayed in D.C, you wouldn’t be here.”

“One has to make sacrifices, in this line of work,” Alan Hunley retorts, but his voice isn’t either playful nor amused. He sounds extremely tired, and he has difficulties speaking. “It’s fine. I made it out, in the end.”

“Barely, yes.”

“Yes, sorry about that, I’m sure you learning of my demise would’ve brightened your day considerably,” Hunley offers, finally daring to let humour slip through his words, “I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“I don’t fucking feel like joking, Alan,” Brandt almost spits, fists closed in anger, “this isn’t funny !”

“No, it’s not.”

The Secretary closes his eyes again, sighing deeply as he let his head sink deeper into the hard pillow. The drops in his IV were falling almost in synch with the beating of his heart.

“Why are you here ?” he asks then, turning his face a little so they were looking at each other, “don’t you have mission files and reports to fill ?”

“I’m here because you’re a lonely guy whose closest next of kin is his subordinate,” Brandt icily replies, locking their gazes forcefully. “That’s a little sad, isn’t it ?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sure your mother is fond of coming to your bedside everytime you hurt yourself on missions.”

“Okay, funny guy. Hilarious. Just—that was a really close call. And I don’t feel like joking about it, is all.”

“I’m not making jokes,” Hunley notes, “I’m deflecting. The mood of this place is daunting enough as it is, no need to add your forever gloomy face to the mix.”

“My face isn’t gloomy. I’m—concerned.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. I’m alright, I’ll be good as new in a few months, ready to overwork you and your team of self sacrificing idiots.”

“Unless you’ve forgotten, you are part of this team too,” Brandt says, “and anyway, talk about self sacrifice when you’re the one who jumped in front of a bullet.”

“How sweet. Just what I needed,” the other mocks, the shadow of a smile still appearing on his bow shaped lips. “I may be the one who has gotten shot, you don’t look too well either. Did you run into a wall, perhaps ?”

A scoff, and Brandt’s crossing his legs self consciously, tugging at his loosened tie.

“I’ve been here since 1AM yesterday,” he mumbles, running a hand through his short hair, “there isn’t much to do, in a hospital.”

That seems to take Hunley by surprise.

“1AM ? But it’s early morning.”

“Yeah, Sherlock. It’s almost 9AM.”

A frown.

“Why on Earth would you stay the night ?” the older man asks, clearly confused, “that seems counter productive.”

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me ?” Brandt frustratedly exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “because someone needed to check on you, is why ! Because there needs to be someone to tell the IMF if their Secretary General fucking died in surgery !”

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I’m sure doctors would’ve notified you all the same without you having to stay here,” Hunley remarks, raising his index at him. “All I am saying is, you could use some sleep. That look on you is…ghastly.”

“Honestly, go fuck yourself,” the other annoyedly replies. “I stayed because I wanted to. And yes, I look like shit, but at least you’ve got someone to talk to while you’re waking up from your surgery, and you’re not staring at the ceiling waiting for God knows who until God knows when.”

“Mm. That would imply that I want to talk to you.”

“Well, you are. Aren’t you ?”

A huff.

“Alright, sure. You look jumpy, though. Are you sure you’re alright ?”

“Am I sure I’m a—fuck, Alan !” Brandt can’t help but yell, face in his hands, “you almost died ! What is it about that that you don’t understand ?!”

“No, William, I understand the gravity of my situation quite well, thank you very much. What I do not understand, is why you seem so worked up about it.”

The younger man lets out a high pitched scream inside his palms, shaking his head dejectedly. His shoulders are shaking.

“Brandt ?”

“I guess I got scared, alright ? I got—I got scared you really were dead,” he finally says, defeated. When he raises his head again, his eyes are wide. “I panicked, and I felt helpless. I knew I should’ve taken the job with the rest of them. Fuck.”

“Well, I’ve made it out, haven’t I ?”

“A few millimetres to the left and you wouldn’t have,” he continues, parroting the doctor’s words. “I don’t know, okay ? I was scared. Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m admitting this to you, it’s going to inflate to huge ego of yours.”

Hunley lets out a soft laugh at this, clenching his fingers as his catheter slightly shifted on the sheets.

“I’m touched you seem to…care so highly of my person to worry that much. But I promise to you, William, that I am quite alright. Nothing I can’t recover from, at least.”

“I know that,” Brandt mumbles, averting his eyes. “It’s whatever. Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

“No, I think it’s sweet,” the other jokingly remarks, “but really, you should go home and rest, now that you know that I’m okay. You really don’t look good.”

“‘s fine. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“My, are you playing bodyguard ?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to stop putting yourself in stupid situations you aren’t used to tackle, sure,” Brandt says, shrugging stiffly as he took his suit jacket and tie off. He folds them on the back of the chair neatly, patting them for good measure.

There’s a slight pause, and the muscle in his jaw visibly tenses. Like he’s thinking about something.

Finally his hands rises, barely, landing on the other man’s, palm warm.

He gives a soft squeeze, something that’s barely there.

“It’s good to have you back, mister Secretary,” he settles on saying, the corner of his mouth curling until what could be considered a smile. “Don’t go dying on me while I sleep.”

He takes his hand off, and Hunley finds that he misses its warmth.

The other’s snores keep him awake.

[serafiel-jacobs]

Dire Machinations (Fanfic)

New chapter from my main series 🩷

“Hey, Pulcinella can you do me a favor?”

He was at the Workshop Union attending to his work issues when one of the secretaries asked for his help.

“Of course” He replied, “What do you wish me to do miss?”

The girl chuckled, “You are always so polite”

She pointed at a garbage bag that was next to her, “Anyway I’m tasked with throwing away the trash but I just did my nails and a girl like me shouldn’t have to do them for something like this”

The girl had a big smile, technically he is the one who throws the trash every day because they all ask this favor.

“Can you help me out please?”

“As usual, I am happy to provide my services” Pulcinella doesn’t mind, it’s what makes their bond stronger with them. It’s good to have strong work relationships.

Meanwhile, Venigni was in a meeting, thankfully the last he would need to for his show-off transportation modes at the Grand Exhibition.

“How odd, where is Geppetto?” One of the workers asked, the meeting was about to start.

Geppetto is the president of the union, he should be in all meetings tending to this matter, once each project is given the final go, he personally has to handle the arrangements for its show-off at the exhibitions alongside the marketing department.

“He had family matters to attend to” Venigni replied.

Pinocchio is in a therapy session, and so is Geppetto.

“Can we finally admit he is overcompensating?” Another man in the room said, “Carlo died and he wasn't the best father but a puppet doesn’t need that much attention”

“Don’t say things like that” Another coworker said, “Yeah it’s just a puppet but if Geppetto thinks it's his family we have to respect that”

Venigni rolled his eyes, even when they weren’t rude to Pinocchio they still only saw him as an object.

“Can we go back to the topic at hand?” Venigni wasn’t in the mood for work drama, “Geppetto trusts that we can plan this by ourselves, shouldn’t we be flattered?”

Everyone took their seats, the meeting went on without issue, and everything seemed to go well, Venigni was leaving the union early to manage the hospital, and then he had to show up to an event, in his mind running the list of things he needed to do today when he overheard something that made him gasp.

“You know I heard that Geppetto is skipping work in the morning some days because he goes to see a psychiatrist”

Venigni stopped in his tracks, overhearing the conversation while pretending he was more focused on looking for some papers before leaving.

“Are you serious? Sure it’s weird that he treats that puppet at his son, but to think he is actually crazy…”

Venigni needs to inform Geppetto of this before it gets out of hand, for now, he can’t keep neglecting his responsibilities, Pulcinella can handle the rest while he is here.

—-

Pinocchio was playing the violin at Antonia’s home, Geppetto was leaving him with her in the meantime so they could spend some time together.

“Nothing has happened to you, right? Nothing suspicious?” Geppetto was concerned that she could be targeted.

“It seems this King of Riddles isn’t interested in me in the slightest” Antonia chuckled, “Perhaps if he wasn’t a ruthless killer, I would be offended”

How do you not pay attention to THE Lady Antonia? She steals the show in every room she is in, she is a prima donna without having to sing.

“Good” Geppetto let out a sigh of relief, “He wanted to see you today, with how stressed he has been, I’m sure you can do a better job than me to cheer him up”

Antonia laughed, “You know there is talk going on that we are seeing each other?”

He hadn’t heard about it, although it makes sense considering how he spends more time with her than before due to Pinocchio, considering how many know she sees the boy as a son is not too far-fetched to believe that, unlike other rumors.

“That’s great, more cover for you and Polendina” Geppetto joked, “I am amazed that one has suspended a thing”

“I am good at hiding my secrets” Antonia smiled, “As usual, I’ll take good care of the boy as he takes good care of me”

Pinocchio practiced music with her, it’s always special when he can be at her home and not at Hotel Krat. The hotel will always be a treasured place for him, but considering how it’s filled with people now that are back in business it doesn’t seem as personal anymore.

They were having small talk, when Pinocchio became quiet, looking away from her.

“What’s wrong dear?”

It’s probably naive of him to ask this, still, “Why doesn’t he feel bad about killing people?”

He feels bad for killing, Cecile also feels bad, why doesn’t Arlecchino feel bad? Why didn’t Simon feel bad? Frederick is probably killing people too why doesn’t he feel bad?

“I know it’s because they are evil” Pinocchio continued, “Is that the only reason? Why are people evil?”

Antonia noticed that no one had properly explained it to him, they all assumed he would know.

“Pinocchio, everyone is supposed to have a conscience” Antonia knew this subject would be tough to explain, “A conscience is like your guide”

“Like Sophia or Gemini?”

“Mmm sort of like that” Antonia smiled, “Something that sets you on the right path, that teaches you right from wrong, since no one is born knowing that from the start”

Pinocchio nodded, he was understanding.

“Everyone has their ideals of what’s right and what’s wrong, most are not black and white, everyone has their own thoughts and experiences that shape them” Antonia pauses for a moment, thinking about what to say next, “For example do you think someone is a bad person for stealing?”

“Well yes, stealing is bad”

“But what if they stole food to feed their family?”

Pinocchio had never thought about something like that, “I don’t think they are, they only wanted to help, they probably had no choice”

“I agree with you,” Antonia said, “There are people that will disagree, we could be here all day debating what circumstances could as good or bad, my point is…”

Pinocchio had her full attention by this point.

“That most will shape their conscience over time, however, some people or puppets in the case of Arlecchino don’t have one”

“Why not?” Pinocchio asked innocently.

“I don’t know” Antonia touched his hand to make him feel reassured, “Some say that there are those who aren’t born with one, some say others lose them while growing up”

“Whatever the reason is, those who don’t have a conscience, don’t feel bad about the bad things they do, despite knowing that what they do is wrong”

She tells him how it’s different if someone does something wrong yet believes they were justified, that person believed they did the right thing. But some do bad things, knowing they will hurt others on purpose.

“In fact, many of them also feel good about the things they do, The King of Riddles likes to torment Venigni, because he has nothing that makes him feel bad for what he is doing”

Pinocchio had questions, “Can someone like that grow a conscience?”

“Well, if you ask me… I don’t” She doubted that someone who has committed such atrocities could suddenly feel bad, “But don’t take my word for it, I could be wrong”

Pinocchio does think that his mother has to be wrong, Cecile is a good person, despite everything she did.

Can Arlecchino become a good person? Or rather, a good puppet in his case.

Pinocchio doesn’t feel he can, but doesn’t that mean he is being a hypocrite for giving a pass to Cecile and not him? But Cecile does everything she can to somehow mend her mistakes, she is a caring person, and Arlecchino doesn’t care.

Antonia laughed, that’s when Pinocchio realized his springs were sounding loud due to all the overthinking.

“It’s good you are thinking about it” Antonia gently played with his hair, “It’s always good to have different perspectives when it comes to these sorts of situations”

“Can I ask something?” Pinocchio looked uncomfortable, “Even if they feel bad, that doesn’t take away what they did right?”

Antonia knew where this was going.

“So does that mean that I’m…” That he is a killer, he hurt all those people, he is a bad boy because of what he did.

“Dear that’s completely different, killing because you enjoy it and killing to defend yourself or save others is not the same thing” Antonia went on, “A killer is someone who hurts others on purpose, without justification, you were never a killer”

Pinocchio for the first time since this is talked about, doesn’t feel like crying. He doesn’t blame himself, he doesn’t think is evil. He of course still has remorse, yet now he can truly understand he wasn’t being malicious as he always thought.

“I really should have a talk with your father and everyone else about the things we should have taught you from the start”

What else is he still missing about life that they never taught him?

Antonia hugged her son, “While you are here, how about we catch up on topics like that? It’s my duty as your mother”

Pinocchio hugged her back, giving her a warm smile.

“Polendina darling” Antonia let go and called for him, “Can you please fetch us some sweets that I can give to my dear boy?”

Pinocchio smiled even wider, yes he loves sweets!

—-

Hours passed, and it was almost time for the workers at the factory to leave when Venigni suddenly came back to the union, Geppetto greeted him at the break room.

“I finished my tasks earlier” Venigni was pleased with himself, “Now where is Pulcinella? I must speak with him”

“I haven’t seen him all day, I’ve been so busy supervising” Geppetto did find it unusual, however so much was on his mind.

Something was wrong when everyone started saying how they hadn’t seen him either.

“Mmm I saw him this morning” The same secretary chimed in, “He helped me take out the trash, I haven’t seen him since”

It was outside near the garbage disposal that they found the note, Arlecchino had taken him captive, leaving a location behind.

Venigni almost fainted, Geppetto had to hold him so that he wouldn’t lose balance, he was living his worst nightmare, it didn’t take long for Pinocchio to arrive, they needed to go to the set place, at the set time, they ended up arriving just in time, it was an abandoned testing facility, going inside, only the room they were in was illuminated, there was a door to the left that was shut with an electrified lock and one to the right that could be opened, the front of the room had a big reinforced window panel, but due to the darkness seeing what was on the other side was impossible.

The instructions were clear.

The three of them had to be present no one else, Venigni and Geppetto had to stay at the entrance, they couldn’t leave once they were inside. The first strange rule was they weren’t allowed to say a word.

For Pinocchio he needed to enter the room to the right, without Gemini, so he handed his friend to his father. His strange rule was that he had to tell the truth.

There would be consequences if the rules weren’t followed, and they weren’t going to question them, Pulcinella’s life was on the line.

Pinocchio firmly grasped his weapon, he knew that inside was a trap and he needed to be prepared.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he faced once he opened the door.

All the rest of the lights turned on, Arlecchino was in the room behind the window, he was holding a taser in his hand, that’s how he ended up overpowering Pulcinella. He was standing next to a control panel on one side of the room.

The room was divided into two different sides, a large metal door divided the two parts.

On the other side was Pulcinella, who was tied up in a chair, the other side was bare, and the walls looked dull and worn out,

That’s when Venigni and Geppetto realized what this place was in the past, why it was so close to the factory, this was where they tested the disposal methods in the past, Pulcinella was in a trash compactor.

Venigni was about to scream at him when Arlecchino put his hand up. Pressing a button so his voice could be heard all across the now abandoned building.

“Remember, no talking” Despite not being able to smile, they could have sworn he had a twisted grin on his face, “Or this happens faster”

Pinocchio had no time to waste, he needed to get to that room, moving across an entire building filled with traps.

Floors were electrified, two more of those strange creatures like the one he faced before jumped him; quickly getting rid of them he opened door after door trying to find his way, this was set up as a labyrinth until he got to one door that was locked when he tried to open it.

“You know I love riddles but let me play with you a new game, Have you heard of Never Have I Ever? Arlecchino instructed Pinocchio to shout his answer as he could only hear and not see him.

“Tell me the damn question now!” This had to be the worst “game” Pinocchio had been forced to play.

“Let’s see mmm…” Arlecchino faked being in deep thought,

“You are such a dutiful son, Such a job well done, However, someone in this room has been an awful liar To continue sincerity is required, I wonder who here present, Will find this truth unpleasant”

Pinocchio could feel his heart racing, this doesn’t seem like a normal riddle. Arlecchino for his part, held up a picture from his side of the room, a picture that showed Pinocchio next to The Black Cat and The Red Fox inside Krat City Hall, a picture taken by the many photographers that day, one that he stole.

“Never have I ever lied to my father about who I hang out with” Arlecchinos's voice was snarky, delighted about getting to pleasure of mocking Pinocchio.

“I have” Pinocchio was furious, so this is why this monster decided to make his father come to the place.

“Correct!” Arlecchino pressed a button, opening the door.

Once in the next area, parts of the floor were missing, holes that would lead to a deep basement area, this part was dimly lit unlike the last one, Pinocchio couldn’t allow himself to fall, he might survive that fall but he would have no way to get back up.

Jumping from one place to the other was easy, the hard part was trying to avoid those knives he hung in the ceiling that would fall with the slightest bit of movement. He had to be more careful opening the doors this time, one of them could make him fall if he wasn’t careful.

Every second was agonizing for Venigni, he felt as if they were going to have a heart attack, he was biting his lip so hard he didn’t realize he was bleeding, Geppetto had to stop him. Unfortunately, he is unable to give him words of comfort this time, even if he could, what can he say in this situation?

Pinocchio made it to the next sealed door, Arlecchino wasn’t happy, Pinocchio was acting faster than he anticipated, and Pulcinella was still too safe for his liking.

Arlecchino proceeded to kneel down and grab something, showing a corpse, the corpse that was in the morgue that had the crude appearance of Carlo. Geppetto covered his mouth so as to not make a sound.

Arlecchino gave a dramatic agonizing pause, “Never have I ever lied to my father about what makes me feel upset”

“I have!” Pinocchio shouted, why is he doing this to his father?! Was tormenting his uncle not enough?!

The next area opened. This was so easy for Arlecchino, just as Cecile told Pinocchio, he was never following him, but he knew that Pinocchio was a liar, that Geppetto's precious son is incapable of telling the truth, so he would give him a lesson about why it's bad to lie to others, specially lying to your father.

Pinocchio was almost sown in half by a saw blade as soon as he entered, he managed to dodge in time, but the place was filled with blades, heavy machinery, and other hazards you would find while working inside a factory.

“You wanna know why it took me so long to finally start toying with you?” Arlecchino casually chimed in, “It’s because my playroom took me so long to build”

Pinocchio opened a door, he jumped backward to avoid another hazard. He used the shield in his legion arm to block the second trap that came after, blocking the blade almost directly hitting him.

“It was all so worth it, I’m having so much fun, wouldn’t the rest of you agree that we are having such a swell time together?”

Pinocchio got the third locked door, by this point, the walls of the trash compactor were getting closer and closer to Pulcinella.

Arlecchino was enraged, so he took an even longer pause, Pinocchio shouting at him to say something before he pulled an alchemist report he stole. Geppetto reads how the alchemists were after his son for ruining his experiment at the cathedral.

“Never have I ever, lied to my father about why I came home late”

“I have!!” Pinocchio was even more enraged than before, he won’t stand for any of this.

The final area, the room was filled with trash, literal piles and piles of trash that blocked the way, he had a hard time finding the doors, and Pinocchio felt something sharp piercing him from time to time. Arlecchino had scattered needles around to make it more painful.

“You are cheating, right? You have to be cheating, someone must have given you a heads-up, and your pathetic father must have realized what this place was before coming, I am right aren’t I?” Arlecchino rambled in fury, “The next one will be different, the next one will be a fun riddle”

Pinocchio ignored his delusional ramblings and found the last locked door, Pulcinella was flinching because the walls were so close to him trying not to think about it. Venigni desperately tried to break the looked left door with no avail, electrocuting himself in the process.

“For this time I shall ask something I asked in the past, Because it remains true no matter how much time has passed, Is Geppetto’s creation a killer? Confess!”

Pinocchio applied all the force he could and used his Legion Arm to punch the door wide open.

“I’M NOT!”

He is not a killer, he is not like him, and he will never be like him or allow him to make him feel that way.

Arlecchino had no time to react, Pinocchio grabbed his weapon and stabbed him right in his chest.

“Press the red button!!!” Venigni and Geppetto shouted frantically at the same time.

The trash compactor was put to a complete halt, all of them couldn’t even feel relief, still running high on adrenaline. Pinocchio got Pulcinella out of there and unlocked the door, his father and uncle rushing to get inside.

Venigni hugged Pulcinella while crying, if Pulcinella could cry he would be crying as well.

“Your hand!” Venigni pointed it out in between sobs.

One of his hands had been slightly damaged, almost crushed by the machine.

“It’s alright,” Pulcinella’s said, “You can fix this, you’ve fixed me from worse”

He was referring to how Fuoco had almost destroyed him.

“You are Lorenzini Venigni the genius inventor, there is nothing you can’t do” Pulicenella used his good hand to wipe away a few of Venigni’s tears.

“Son, are you hurt?” Geppetto got closer to examine Pinocchio, aside from a few slight needle marks, he was intact.

“Father” Pinocchio didn’t want to look at him, “I’m sorry”

“It’s okay son”

“No rather, really, I shouldn’t have-“

“I already knew”

“Huh?”

“Son, I’m your father, I could tell you were lying to me” Specially when he lied about not seeing those two stalkers, “I was just pretending I didn’t realize it”

Sure it took him a little to figure out the real reason why he came home late that day, and he didn’t know why Pinocchio was upset after coming out of the morgue but his son clearly saw something that disturbed him.

It doesn’t matter, his son was lying because he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, he wasn't being malicious, that’s why he never said anything.

Pinocchio hugged his father tightly.

“You know I was going to hug you until we got home but I guess it couldn’t be helped”

Oh yeah, he is still filthy because of the trash, now his father is dirty as well.

“Sorry” Pinocchio mumbled, it’s then that he noticed his father was acting calm, too calm.

“Don’t worry” Geppetto gently patted Pinocchio’s head, “I think after today, I can trust you enough with dangerous situations”

Geppetto was terrified of anything happening to Pinocchio, yet seeing him like that, so bold, so determined. As a father the worry of his son being in danger will never go away, nevertheless, he has come to accept that if danger ever comes Pinocchio’s way, his son is more than prepared to handle it.

“Now when we get home, I’m showering first,” Said Geppetto.

Pulcinella and Venigni still didn’t let go of each other, they were letting them have their moment to themselves so they didn’t interrupt.

In the meantime, Pinocchio examined the room, there was a black locker, like the ones that were inside Trinity Doors, he found four quartzs, some cryptic vessels, and even notes and journals.

“Why is he leaving us so much?” In the end, Pinocchio will never understand Arlecchino’s methods.

“Probably because of this” Gemini had gotten out of the cage and was scrolling the pages, apparently the alchemists were looking for quartz for something related to their plans.

If he was going down then he was going to take the alchemists with him, it seems that he knew that he wouldn’t come out alive out of this situation. Although he did not expect that Pulcinella wouldn’t perish alongside him.

Pinocchio put all the information inside his bag, so he could read it carefully later at home, Sophia’s aid would be helpful too if possible, and his father and his uncle could analyze those cryptic vessels later.

Venigni and Pulcinella had calmed down, now there was only one elephant in the room to address.

“What do we do with his body now?” Venigni was at a loss.

They can’t tell the police about this, they are working with the alchemists, and they would cover it up. Not to mention the fact that if a puppet was revealed to be the murderer so close before opening the Grand Exhibition it would cause panic in the streets.

Technically justice has already been done, sadly the families of the victims will never find out the murderer is gone.

“There is the possibility of them bringing him back yet again” Gemini chirped.

It was unlikely, the killings might stop but soon after people will move on to talk about the next topic, that topic will no doubt be the Grand Exhibition, although at least that’s something positive. Plus if they wanted to do another distraction they could plan something else rather than bringing him back once more.

“I want to make sure this will never happen again, that he will never torment anyone else” Venigni knew what he had to do, although he couldn’t deny that it was also personal.

So Pinocchio put Arlecchino’s body inside, the trash compactor.

Venigni activated the machine then pressed the speed-up button, the puppet’s corpse was crushed beyond repair, and the small amount of his Ergo that was used so he could be brought back was crushed alongside him. Finally, nothing remained out of The King of Riddles.

“What do we do know?” Gemini feels as if this should be a big victory, although it doesn’t feel that way.

“I need to fix Pulcinella right away” Venigni was still frantic.

“Master Venigni, this is a scratch, you need to get proper rest, all this stress isn’t good for you”

At least father and son could agree that they needed to take a bath.

Venigni and Pulcinella kept on bantering on their way back about who needed the most help, Pulcinella eventually relented to have his hand fixed up first.

Pinocchio was ready to go to bed, but he left his room and decided to sleep next to his father, who welcomed him with a hug. Even though he trusts him that doesn't take away how scared he was, and despite how Pinocchio succeeded that also doesn't take away how he was terrified of witnessing him go through all that. Both of them can sleep in peace togther and Gemini sleeps happily in Pinocchio's huge bed all to himself.

One less threat on their way, they need to find out more about the alchemists. Not immediately, they deserve to have their victory, not to mention how rushing into action without thinking could cost them more.

For today, the only certain thing is that The King of Riddles will never make Venigni or anyone else suffer ever again.

[sequinsmile-x]

High

Aaron gets hurt protecting Emily. 

For my pal @aubreyprc 

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury. Some cursing. Aaron Hotchner high on pain meds. 

She was going to kill him. 

First, she was going to check he was ok, kiss him until she was sure and then she was going to kill him. 

Emily anxiously twirls her wedding and engagement ring around her finger, attempting to channel her nervous energy into something other than tearing her cuticles apart. A cup of coffee enters her eye line, and she looks up to see Dave standing in front of her, a reassuring smile on his face.

“It probably tastes awful, but at least it’s something.” He says as she takes it from his hand and he sits next to her. “The others are finished at the scene and are on the way.” 

Emily grimaces at the taste of the coffee as she takes a sip, but for a second it distracts her, takes her mind off the fact her husband is an idiot. 

An idiot who she loved more than anything. An idiot who happened to take a knife to the shoulder for her less than an hour ago. 

“He’ll be ok, Emily.” 

She scoffs before taking another sip of the coffee, grimacing at the taste again. “He won’t be once I’m finished with him.” She shakes her head and looks at her friend. “Why did he do it, Dave? We’ve been together for years and this has never happened.” 

“The guy had his arms around you and a knife against your throat.” Dave says, his eyes flicking to the tiny cut on her neck. “He would have done the same for any of us.” 

Emily closes her eyes at the memory. She wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, how she had ended up on the floor and the unsub had his knife in Aaron’s shoulder in a matter of seconds. The first thing she was really aware of was a gun going off, Derek taking a well aimed shot at the unsub to disarm him, but not kill him, and Aaron lowering himself to the ground next to her with his hand pressed against his own shoulder. 

She had held him against her as they waited for the paramedics, her hand against the wound and her lips against his forehead as she told him she loved him and how fucking stupid he was in equal measure. 

“I know he would have.” She agrees, knowing it was true. Aaron would do anything for the team, take any of their places if they were in danger. She knew he carried a burden if any of them got hurt, more so if it was her, and it would take weeks for the guilt to fade, for her to be able to convince him that just because he was their leader it wasn’t his fault. “It doesn’t make him less of a self sacrificing asshole.” 

“Em-”

“Maybe you can save the lecture for when I’m not sitting in a hospital waiting room wearing a shirt covered in my husband's blood?” Emily says, an edge to her voice that has Dave hold up a hand in surrender as he takes a sip of his own coffee.

Emily knew Aaron would be ok. He hadn’t lost consciousness once, even when she had sat next to him in the ambulance, his hand grasped in hers as he tried to hide the amount of pain he was in. But he had been so pale, the blood loss making him look weary as he tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. 

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?” 

Emily looks up to see a doctor standing and looking around, a kind look on her face as Emily stood, Dave not far behind her, and walked over. 

“I’m his wife, is he ok?” 

The doctor guides them back over to the waiting area, indicating for Emily to sit down, which she does, feeling anxiety rise through her chest. 

“The stab wound your husband came in with was very deep, and the scans show that the tip of the knife broke off against his clavicle.” The doctor explains gently. “The tip of the knife is still in his shoulder, so we are going to have to do surgery to get it out and close up the wound.” 

Emily felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, memories of when Aaron had been stabbed before, so many years ago now, flooding back in a way that took her breath away.

“Is he going to be ok?” She asks, shrugging Dave’s hand off of her shoulder as he tries to provide some comfort, knowing right now it wouldn’t do her any good.

“There are never any guarantees.” The doctor says, but she smiles at Emily again in a reassuring way. “But he has remained conscious this entire time, and spent a long time trying to convince us he didn’t need pain meds.” 

Emily chokes out a laugh at that. “That sounds about right.” She clears her throat, forces down the emotion trying to claw its way up it. “Can I see him?”

“Of course.” The doctor replies. “I need you to fill out the paperwork too.”

Emily stands and follows the doctor, briefly turning back to Dave. “Can you let the others know?” 

“Of course, bella. You go make sure he’s ok.” 

She follows the doctor to the room Aaron is in, and she blows out a breath when she sees him. The wound to his left shoulder is packed tight and he looks so pale it does nothing to calm her concerns. 

“Sweetheart.” He says as soon as he sees her, a strain to his voice as he tries to hide the pain he is in. She walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it facing him, taking his hand in between hers. “Are you ok?” 

He lifts his good arm to press his thumb to the tiny cut on her neck, the one that had stopped bleeding before the paramedic even arrived, and Emily rolls her eyes at him. 

“I’m fine. And I’m not the one with a piece of a knife stuck in my shoulder, honey.” She scoffs as she straightens the cannula in his nose delivering him oxygen. “You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, a gentle thing against his lips to remind herself that he is alive, and then she rests her forehead against his. 

“It’s ok. Just don’t do anything stupid like die during surgery.” She says, her smile wavering as tears flood her lash line. “I’d hate to have to bring you back to life just to kill you myself.” 

He laughs at that and it makes him jolt in pain, wincing as the movement makes his shoulder burn. She shushes him, her fingers soft against his cheek. 

There’s a clearing of a throat behind them and Emily turns to see a nurse standing there. 

“We need to take you down now, Agent Hotchner.” 

Emily turns back to Aaron and kisses him, more forceful this time as she tries to pour everything into it. She pulls back and smiles at him. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He says, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

__________________

The first thing Aaron feels is pain. His shoulder is killing him, a burning sensation lancing all the way down his arm and across his chest. Then he realises how fuzzy his head feels, the tell tell signs of anaesthesia and heavy pain killers in his system, making his brain feel light and heavy at the same time.

He opens his eyes and looks around, unsurprised to see he is in a hospital room. He groans at the light in the room, the brightness of the fluorescent lights making his head swim even more. 

“Aaron.” 

He turns to see Emily sitting next to him, a look of relief on her face. Her presence confuses him, unsure why she was by his side, and why her hand was in his. 

“Prentiss?” He asks, missing the way she frowns when he calls her by her surname. “What happened?” 

“You were stabbed, you had to have surgery.” She stands up, both of her hands now grasped around one of his. She presses a kiss to his cheek and he shrinks backwards, the pain in his shoulder stopping him from moving more. 

“What are you doing?” 

She looks at him, equal parts concern and amusement on her face. “Trying to kiss my husband.” 

“We aren’t married.” He says, and he watches her smile slip away. “That’s mean, Prentiss.” 

Aaron had loved her for years, longer than he had cared to admit. He’d often wondered if she’d felt the same, but this felt cruel. Like she was messing with him when he was so in love with her just having her touch him made his skin feel like it was burning. 

“I could show you our marriage certificate but I don’t carry it with me everywhere we go.” She jokes, a nurse walking in before she could say anything else.

“Oh look who is awake.” The overly cheery nurse says as she sends a smile to Emily. “Your wife was very worried about you.” 

“Not my wife.” Aaron mumbles. Just my beautiful coworker I’m in love with. He thinks, although a small laugh from Emily and the nurse tells him he may well have said it out loud.

“Is he ok?” Emily asks, concern for him sneaking it’s way into her voice. “He knows who I am but keeps insisting that we aren’t married.” 

The nurse finishes checking Aaron’s vitals, making a note on the chart in her hands. “He’s fine, this isn’t totally unusual for someone coming round from anesthetic. I’ve seen some people completely forget who their loved ones are.” She presses a few buttons on one of the machines he is hooked up to. “I’ve set up the next set of meds, so he should sleep soon. Next time he wakes up, try and get him to eat some of the crackers we’ll bring in.”

Emily nods and turns her attention back to Aaron as the nurse leaves. “See, the nurse knows we’re married.” 

“I’d remember marrying you.” He grumbles, eyeing her wedding rings with jealousy. Her husband is a lucky bastard. 

Emily smiles at him, biting her lip to suppress a laugh as he realises he had accidentally spoken out loud again. She pushes some hair off of his forehead, her touch warming him immediately, something familiar about the gesture that his confused brain can’t place. He thinks he sees her get her phone out, but the room is starting to get blurry, his eyes closing against his will. 

“I don’t think you even remember what town we’re currently in, Aaron.” 

“Too pretty to marry me.” He says, his voice thick as the painkillers the nurse had given him start to make him drift to sleep. “Too good.” 

“Go to sleep, love.” She says, a kiss to his forehead as she soothes him. 

He falls asleep to her soft lips against his skin, and he thinks there would be much worse things in the world than being Emily’s husband.

__________________

It takes another couple of hours for him to wake again, and she can immediately tell he’s more lucid this time. A focus in his eyes that hadn’t been present in the few minutes he had been awake earlier.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says, smiling at her in the way he did on their first date, the way it made her feel now no less significant than it had been then. 

“Hi honey.” Emily stands from the chair next to his bed so she can kiss him, and then she settles on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, but leaves it, knowing that she won’t get any further admission of pain from him. “I need to make you eat some crackers.” She says, a smirk on her face as she indicates the package on the table next to him.

He groans, the idea of eating anything making his stomach turn. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. But I’ll give you a few minutes.” 

“I’m your husband, you’re meant to be nice to me.” 

“Oh, so now you remember we’re married?” She asks, a wry smile on her face that develops into a laugh at his confusion

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you later. I took a video.” Her smile fades slightly as she takes in the bandage poking out from his gown, the way his arm was strapped to his chest. 

“I’m ok, Em.” 

“I know.” She says, looking back at his face and giving him a wobbly smile. “Today was rough.” She lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “As soon as you are better we’re going to have a conversation about you sacrificing yourself like that for me.” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

Emily shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

“But you love me.” 

Emily smiles and kisses him, pulling back just enough to to speak. “I really do.” 

__________________

She shows him the video footage of him in the hospital as soon as they get home, him in their bed on rest for at least a month. She giggles as he tries, and fails, to take her phone from her, his usual strength failing him with one of his arms out of action. 

He promises all sorts of filthy things, once he’s better, in exchange for her deleting the video, which she does in front of him.

It’s only at the office Christmas party a few months later when it pops up in the montage Penelope puts together every year he realises he’s been duped. 

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one

Here we go, y'all. We're ignoring that it's 3:30 in the morning but I'm just yeeting the first part of this into the wild and hoping it goes well. Ignore typos, we all know that everything I post is a first draft.

I need to thank @hockeywocs, @chara-hugs, and @zinka8 (WHY CAN't I TAG YOU) and all the anons who have come into my ask box to help me with this! ily all!

WARNING: some description of child birth

Hope you like it!

Series masterlist

------------------------------

Part 1: Christmas Day and the day after Christmas

The name for Christmas comes from the shortening of “Christ’s Mass,” a traditionally Christian holiday that celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ to the Virgin Mary and Joseph in a manger in Bethlehem. Although the exact date of his birthday is unknown, around the fourth century the Catholic church fixed the date of this celebration to be December 25th. Other religions and belief systems have similar celebrations around the same time, such as the Winter Solstice, or Midwinter. Celebrations include a mixture of pre-Christian, Christian, and non-secular traditions, such as gift giving, completing an Advent Calendar or Advent Wreath, Christmas music, church services, a special meal with family and loved ones, Christmas trees, lights, nativity scenes, and Santa Claus to name a few.

The day after Christmas, known as Boxing Day in some European countries, is traditionally known as a shopping holiday. In America, this is typically the day when people start to return any unwanted Christmas gifts, stock up for next Christmas on items that are marked down on sale, or see friends that they hadn’t been able to see before Christmas.

=============

December 21, 2021

“One fifteen means fifteen minutes before I have to clock in. Fifteen minutes before a twelve-hour shift that I’m not ready for and don’t have enough caffeine for,” Anne muttered to herself, staring at her reflection through her car's rearview mirror. “But, fifteen minutes before getting to do something that I thankfully love, something that I enjoy doing.” No matter how long the shift in front of her, Anne had developed a habit of giving herself a pep talk before she got out of her car. “Whatever happens, you’ve helped someone.”

The last part wasn’t always true, knowing that there was the possibility that something could go wrong that she and the other nurses and doctors wouldn’t be able to fix. Lying to herself that everything was going to be ok was the only want to convince herself to go into the hospital every day. Finally mustering up enough courage to get out of her car, she grabs her bag from the backseat, heading in for yet another long day right before the Christmas holiday.

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from the job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

“Hey, Tyson, come on!” comes from inside the open doors of the building, Anne not paying attention to who it was coming from, causing her to collide with a stranger, spilling her much-needed coffee all over the both of them.

“Shit,” she says, not looking up from the brown splatter on what should be mint green scrubs. “I am so sorry.”

Standing in front of her was a curly-haired boy, about her age, wearing what she was sure was a Colorado hockey jersey. Beyond that, she had no idea. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy you another,” he offers, ignoring the persistent calls from his friends to hurry up.

Anne checks her watch: 1:19. “It’s ok. I don’t really have the time, I have to clock in in eleven minutes, and knowing the cafeteria or the vending machines, it would take a lot longer,” she says, trying to get by him. Before he can protest, she gets to the elevator that would bring her to her floor, thankful that it was ready to get her there without her having to wait. The doors start to close, only to be stopped by a hand stuck through them, the curly-haired boy with the coffee stain down the front of him getting on the elevator with her. Anne gives him a confused look, begging him to explain why he was trying to make her late for her shift.

“If you aren’t going to let me buy you one now to make up for it, at least let me see where you work so I can drop one off for you.”

Anne rolls her eyes, unamused by the man in front of her as he attempts to flirt with her. “That would be nice, but the chances of me getting it before it goes cold are slim to none, so you need to suggest something else if you really want to buy me a coffee.”

“Let me get your number so I can buy you one when you aren’t working?” he asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 1:25. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”

The elevator dings, signaling that they were on Anne’s floor, opening the door to nurses and doctors running around, expectant fathers who were probably kicked out of the delivery room for making the mom too nervous pacing the halls, grandparents trying to control younger children who had little to no idea what was going on as they waited in the strange building. Anne walks to the backroom to drop her stuff off and clock in, typing her information into the stranger’s phone as he followed her like a puppy, his friend’s texts coming across the top of his screen asking where he went so they could leave.

“I’m Anne, and I’ve got to go,” she tells him, handing back his phone. There was no way he was going to text her, and it’s not like the coffee was that big of a deal to him. She could go to the vending machine down the hall and grab one during her break, or have someone else on their break do it for her if she needed it sooner.

“Can’t wait for our coffee date, Anne,” he says, winking at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back down the hallway.

“Who is he?” her coworker, Jess asked, popping up out of nowhere. “He’s hot.”

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Anne jokes, “he’s also wearing my hot coffee on his shirt.”

“You didn’t,” Jess scolds her, turning her around to see the coffee that was spilled down Anne’s own outfit, knowing Anne’s tendency to be a little absent-minded as she gets wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Anne, you did.”

“Not on purpose!”

“DeFormicola?” Anne’s supervisor, Jackson, pops his head into the room just as she was clocking in, “We need you in room 414.”

“Saved by the bell,” Anne teases, walking down the hall to where all the noise was coming from, trying to throw on the appropriate clothing before she went into the room, struggling to get the gloves on as she entered.

“Ok, Erin, we’re going to need you to push,” one of the doctors says, Anne standing behind him as she watched the baby’s head crowning.

This was her favorite part of the job, helping the mother stay calm and trying to make sure that despite the child coming out of her, she was as comfortable as possible. Normally, she would be with the mom as soon as she came in, Erin clearly nervous as to what was going on. They had to be first-time parents, the dad going back and forth to Erin’s side and behind the doctor, looking mortified each time and clearly regretting what he was seeing.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor says, handing the new baby to a breathless Erin.

“A boy! A boy!” the dad yells, going out to the hallway, Erin clearly unamused by whatever antics he was going about.

“Don’t worry, he’s not the first one to do that,” Anne reassures her, knowing that something like that would happen at least five more times during her shift, hearing the father’s voice repeating the phrase. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and then get him right back to you, ok?” Anne asks, reaching for the baby as everyone else around her tries to clean everything else up.

“Be careful with him,” Erin warns, not meaning anything bad by it. She was definitely a first time mother.

“I will be,” Anne tells her, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket as she does. “So you have a name picked out yet?”

“We were thinking Matthew.”

Anne turns her head, smiling at Erin. “That’s a good name. My older brother is named Matthew.”

Erin smiles at her, the father finally coming back in, clearly overjoyed by the birth of their new baby. Anne hands him back to his parents, Matthew screaming his head off as they get wheeled into another room.

Anne goes over to the desk, sitting down where she was supposed to be for the start of her shift to do paperwork, but the uncertainty in the hour by hour of the schedule was not surprising. She pulls out her phone, ‘Maybe: Tyson’ coming up across her screen.

“He’s already texting me,” she alerts Jess whose head whips away from her computer to look over Anne’s shoulder at what message the mystery man could have sent her.

“He’s horny.”

“Jessica!” she squeals, wishing she was more shocked by what her friend had said. “Why is that always your first reaction to a boy sending a message?”

She shrugs, swiveling back to her own computer, “I’m normally right. What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know when he can buy me coffee.”

“Horny.”

“Enough.”

“You should date him.”

Anne turns to her, clearly unamused by Jess’s need to continue the conversation. “I don’t have to date anyone.”

Jess lets out a long sigh, Anne knowing that she was rolling her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying you should.”

“Ok, I don’t want to date anyone.”

“Oh, come on Anne,” Jess says, getting up and plopping herself on the desk in front of Anne, fiddling with the wire connecting the mouse to the rest of the computer. “You work in a maternity ward where people become parents every day, and you haven’t even thought of finding a man?”

“You don’t have a point,” Anne tells her, not making eye contact with her.

“My point,” Jess says, leaning over to block Anne’s view of her computer screen, “is that you can’t be single forever.”

“Says who?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you were named after the patron saint of the town your grandmothers were from?”

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing where this was going. It was going in the same direction that this conversation always went in when she had it with her mom every single holiday. “All four of us are named after the patron saints of the towns our grandparents are from.”

“St. Anne is the patron saint of child care, grandparents and mothers.”

“She’s also that patron saint of unmarried women, so your argument is invalid, as usual.”

Jess takes in a breath to say something, cut off by Jackson calling for Jess to go into one of the delivery rooms. “Just don’t say no because you think you have to be single,” she advises as she walks away.

Anne leans back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is how Christmas is going to go, isn’t it?” she asks herself.

=============

December 25, 2021

The number of cars lining her parent's driveway meant that she was one of the last ones there, but knowing her aunts and uncles, she wasn’t the last one there. Her parents were the ones who did Christmas Day for her dad’s family, Christmas Eve being the anniversary of her mom’s mom’s death, and, on top of that, Teresa doesn’t talk to her family over some argument and grudge being held over their parent's house.

Scanning the cars, she didn’t see the one belonging to her brother Matthew, or his wife, Stephanie. “I’ll just leave Harper’s gifts in the car,” Anne mutters to herself, trying to juggle as many gifts as she could while also balancing the box of pastries her mom asked her to pick up for dessert.

Without a free hand to open the door, Anne did everything she could to ring the doorbell with her elbow, praying that someone would come to open the door before she dropped anything.

Her younger brother, Sebastian, opens the door, a disappointed look on his face. “What the fuck is all this for?” he asks, taking some of the bags from her arms to lighten her load.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she remarks, “Yours is still in my car if you’re wondering.”

“Did you have to get gifts for everyone?” he asks, Anne greeting her aunts and uncles on the way to the tree to put everything down for later.

“Well, it’s Hazel’s first Christmas," she explains, referencing their sister's youngest daughter, "So getting her something and not getting the other children something seemed wrong, and then Jessica took me shopping and kept saying things like ‘oh this would be perfect for Lucy,’ or ‘oh don’t have you an aunt who likes mystery novels?’ And everything went downhill from there.”

Sebby groans, walking with Anne back out to her car to retrieve the rest of the gifts, Anne still holding the box of pastries since they hadn’t made it to the kitchen yet. “Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel that the bookstore was selling.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel the bookstore was selling,” Anne laughs, Sebby nodding his head. “I got a gift receipt.”

“What did you end up getting Matthew?” he asks her. Anne had texted Sebby in panic on Black Friday, coming home from a day of shopping with Lucy that left her without a gift for Lucy’s twin brother.

Grabbing the rest of the gifts and handing them to Sebby, she closes the door to her car and starts to go back inside. “I found this ‘make your own wine’ kit that I think he would like. That way Steph doesn’t have to listen to him complaining about how the stuff she drinks is ‘too sweet.’”

“What about for me?” Sebby asks, nudging Anne with his elbow as they arrange the rest of the gifts in the already mountainous pile under the tree.

“Oh, I knew there was someone I forgot,” she says sarcastically, Sebby ripping the bow off one of her carefully wrapped presents and throwing it at her. “Ok, now I’m never getting you a gift again.”

Sebby laughs, helping his older sister off the ground. The two of them wander into the kitchen, slipping in unnoticed due to the sheer number of family members and noise that was filling the room. ��Aunt Anne! Aunt Anne!” Harper and Skylar squeal in unison when her nieces spot her, hoping that either she or Sebby had grabbed Harper, Matthew, and Stephanie’s gifts. She didn’t think there was anything left in her trunk.

“Hey there, fireflies,” Anne greets them, bending down as they both kiss her on the cheek. “Guess what? Santa stopped by my place and left some gifts for you, but he made me promise that you two were really good today if you want to open them after dessert, ok?”

The two girls nod excitedly, bouncing up and down at Anne’s words. To still be young and believe in Santa, that must be nice.

“Hey, ma,” Anne finally finds her mother, putting down the box of pastries in front of her and kissing her on the cheek. “Upstairs or downstairs fridge?”

“It goes downstairs. Come on, I have someone I want you to meet,” her mother says, dragging you away from your aunts that had aggregated around her. They all had excited looks on their faces, something that instantly worried Anne as she followed her mother down the stairs with the box. She could hear Matthew and Lucy’s voices, knowing that her brother and sister’s wife and husband had to be down there with them, too. “Matthew told me about this friend of his who couldn’t make it home for Christmas,” her mother whispers before she got to the last step.

“Mom, no,” Anne says, already knowing where this was heading. “I told you: I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“But I don’t have a grandson,” her mom whines, shaking Anne’s hand in her own against her chest.

“How is that my fault?”

“If you just find a nice boy, and get married, I just know you’re going to be my child that has a boy.”

“Oh my god,” Anne groans, pushing past her to get to the fridge.

Teresa pulls Anne over to the couches where her siblings were, Lucy sitting on one with her feet in Jason’s lap, Jason’s hand lazily rubbing his wife’s shins. Matthew was on the other, Stephanie nuzzled against his shoulder, all four of them with a glass of wine and three bottles open. Next to Matthew was a guy sitting there awkwardly, straightening his back when he saw you while Sebby tried to contain his laughter as he sat on the floor. “Jeremy, this is my youngest daughter, Anne. Anne, this is Jeremy,” she introduces the two of them before running up the stairs.

“I do have a girlfriend, actually,” Jeremy says, “So I’m sorry.”

Anne and her siblings burst out laughing, Lucy pouring her sister a glass of wine. “If only this were the first time Ma tried to set Anne up with a guy who was seeing someone.”

“I even tried to tell her that but she didn’t listen,” Matthew adds. “It’s better than when she tried to set you up with Adam,” he says, referencing Lucy’s partner at their optometry practice.

“Yeah, his husband wasn’t too thrilled by that potential match,” Sebby says.

They all keep talking, Anne just sitting and listening to them reminisce about all the people their parents had tried to set her up within their desperate attempt for her to no longer be single. It didn’t help that the last time she listened to them about dating was Andy, the boy who cheated on her when they got to college. Apparently going to school half an hour from each other wasn’t enough for him to keep up their two-year relationship instead of shoving his tongue down multiple girls throats before doing god only knows what else.

“When do you think they’ll stop trying to set me up with someone?” Anne finally pips in, accidentally cutting off something Jeremy was saying as she stared at the wine she was swirling in the glass.

“When you get a boyfriend,” her siblings say in unison.

“I hate all of you for doing that,” she laughs. “But, seriously, why is it so important that I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, you know your mother,” Jason says, putting his glass down on the floor. “She saw what Lucy and I had and then wanted that for all her children.”

Lucy playfully shoves him, kissing him as Anne and Sebby groan. “She just wants you to be happy, and to her and dad, happiness is marriage and a family.”

“Where am I going to meet someone if I go to work or here where they try to bring in non-single non-potential suitors?” she asks, looking over at Jeremy. “Sorry.”

He shrugs, not able to get a word in before Matthew starts, “What if you met someone at work like how Steph and I met?”

“Yeah because there are so many single men walking around the maternity ward,” she says, her phone buzzing in front of her. “What about you, though, Seb, how’s Collins?” Anne asks, changing the subject.

“Eh,” he shrugs, his eyes wandering to Anne’s phone screen, “I’m not sure we’re going to last to graduation.”

“What?” Lucy squeals, causing Jason to jump as she threw her legs out of his lap. “I thought you said she was ‘the one’?”

Sebby looks down at his glass, a stupid smirk on his face. “Nah, that changed. She doesn’t want me to go to law school in Boston, she wants me to stay here or move to California with her.”

“But the adventure of moving with your girlfriend to another state!” Matthew offers, Stephanie rolling her eyes.

“Matthew, not everyone needs adventure like you do, hon.”

Anne’s phone buzzes again, a reminder that she had a text waiting for her. Picking it up before Sebby can see who it is, ever the nosy little brother, she sees a message from Tyson popping up as they continue their conversation about Sebby’s love life and Anne’s lack thereof. . They had only been texting for a few days since their encounter at the hospital, but every time his name came up she couldn’t help but smile, lifting the wine glass to her lips to cover it in hopes of her siblings not noticing.

How’s your Christmas been so far?

A simple ‘eh’ as a response was all that she needed to send. It could be worse, but her mom trying to set her up with a guy with a girlfriend was definitely not something that made for a good Christmas. The only thing that could be worse is if their dad came home early from the flight he was on with a guy he picked up in whatever country he had to go to that prompted him to miss the holiday. Normal dads who had to travel would bring their kids back little trinkets or a postcard, but Anne wouldn’t put it past Tony to borderline kidnap someone from the plane he was flying and bring them home for Anne.

Tyson’s contact comes up again, an incoming call that prompted Anne to step away so she could answer it. “What’s up?”

“You said your Christmas was ‘eh.’ What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” she groans, pressing her back up against the fridge.

“Well, what if I have something that might make it better?” he flirts.

“Oh? Like what”

“What if I said I’m 100% free to buy you that coffee any time tomorrow, since I know you said you didn’t have work, and you can tell me about Christmas then?”

Anne hears her siblings laugh not ten feet away, praying that they couldn’t hear her conversation. Taking in a deep breath, she knew that her cheeks were turning pink at his words. “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, walking back over to join her siblings.

“I’ll text you details,” he tells her, hanging up.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy yells, interrupting their conversation. “Anne was talking to a boy.”

“What the hell? What makes you think that?” she asks.

“Your cheeks are red," Lucy says, prompting Anne to raise her hand to feel the heat radiating from her face, "Who else would you be seeing tomorrow?” her sister eggs on, her eyebrow raised since she knew she was right.

Anne tries to find her words, unable to think of a name that wasn’t a guy's name to blurt out.

“Is it Tyson?” Sebby asks, Anne’s unlocked phone in his hand.

“You jackass!” she yells, lunging at her brother to try to get her phone back.

Teresa’s footsteps sound down the stairs, her poking her head between the gap in the stair rail and the steps themselves, Anne and Sebby looking like a deer in headlights when they see their mom. “I was coming to say that dinner was ready, but what’s going on here?”

“Anne has a boy she wasn’t telling us about,” Sebby blabs, earning an ‘I’ll kill you’ look from Anne.

“Oh! Annie!” their mom squeals, running down the stairs to pick her up off the ground and hug her. “Why didn’t you tell us about him?”

“I, uh,” Anne starts, still not sure what to say.

“You have to bring him to New Year’s Day at Uncle Vince’s house,” she tells her, the rest of the siblings following Anne being dragged back up the stairs for dinner, her mom announcing that Anne had a boyfriend when she, in fact, didn’t.

=============

December 26, 2021

“So, are you going to tell me why your Christmas was only ‘eh,’ or am I going to have to guess?” Tyson asks, setting down two cups of coffee in front of them. Tyson had asked Anne to meet him at a small coffee shop that was within walking distance of her apartment, thankful that she didn’t have to drive through Denver on the day where everyone was returning anything unwanted, like her Aunt Lisa returning one of the copies of the Agatha Christie novel that her and Sebby each got her.

Anne groans, the images of last night’s dinner flashing through her mind. “Can we talk about something else, first?”

“Fine,” Tyson says, taking a long sip of the coffee, “What did you get for gifts?”

She raises her eyebrow at him, Tyson mirroring her expression except with a goofy grin on his face. Rolling her eyes, she starts listing off the stuff she got: “My parents got me a new attachment for my KitchenAid stand mixer since my younger brother, Sebby, broke it last time he was over and a voucher for a flight anywhere in the country like they do every year, um, some gift cards from my aunts and uncles, my nieces all did their best attempts at drawing a portrait of me, Sebby told me he was going to come over and make dinner for me, which scares me because he can’t cook, Matthew and his wife got me some books they thought I would like, and Lucy and her husband got me this bracelet,” Anne tells him, extending her arm out to show him.

“I have so many questions,” Tyson starts.

“I might have answers,” Anne tells him, raising her cup to him.

“How big is your family?”

“I’m the third of four, Lucy and Matthew are twins and are about five years older than me, then Sebby is a year younger than me. Lucy has two daughters and Matthew has one. My dad has two brothers; one older, one younger. The older one has three kids, the younger has two and then three grandchildren.”

“Mom’s family?”

Anne looks down at her coffee. “I’m the only one who talks to anyone on that side of the family. My mom and her brother got into a fight when their parents died over what was left to them. My uncle has two daughters and two granddaughters.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking between the coffee and Anne.

She shrugs, not really bothered by it at this point. “It’s whatever. I talk to them because I want to, so it’s fine. What other questions do you have, though?”

“The ticket voucher?”

“Yeah,” Anne laughs, “Our dad is a pilot with Southwest Airlines, so every Christmas they give us a voucher to fly anywhere we want. They say they want to make sure that we take time for ourselves, but I think Dad gets some sort of bonus for every voucher he buys.”

Tyson throws his head back laughing. It wasn’t that funny, but seeing him so happy, Anne couldn’t help but smile back at him. “What about you, what did you get for Christmas?”

“My mom and sister flew down and basically restocked my kitchen for me.”

“Ok, that’s a great present, though,” she says. “Where was your dad?”

The smile from Tyson’s face fades, not looking up at Anne. “I never knew him. My mom and grandmother raised me.”

“Oh, Tyson,” she says, reaching out for his hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

He shrugs, a forced smile on his face. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I don’t think. My mom and my grandmother are the reason I am who I am. I wouldn’t give that up or change it.”

The two of them sit there, Anne trying to think about how many times she helped deliver a baby when the father was nowhere to be found. She normally figured they were busy or just not in the delivery room, not being there all together was something she couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But enough about me. Why was your Christmas ‘eh’?”

“My family has it in their heads that I need a boyfriend,” she admits, Tyson smirking at her words. “And my brother saw your texts coming up on my phone and being the asshole that he is, announced that I was texting a boy, so now, I need to find someone to bring with me to my uncle’s house on New Year’s Day that I can pass off as you.”

Tyson gives her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t you just bring me?”

Anne sits there, a shocked look on her face. “Because they think ‘Tyson’ is my boyfriend, and you aren’t?”

“So we pretend. They don’t need to know,” he shrugs, acting like it was no big deal.

“That would never work,” Anne dismisses him.

“Why not? You don’t think I’m a good actor?” Tyson whines, acting insulted at Anne’s words.

She scoffs, “Ok, one, hockey players are never good actors, and two, Sebby or Lucy are bound to figure out that you are not my boyfriend. Sebby wants to be a lawyer so he analyzes everything and Lucy is just this perfect anomaly of a human who would be bound to figure it out.”

“I think I can play your boyfriend for New Year’s Day,” he says, confidence dripping in his voice.

“No, I can’t have you do that.”

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from thhe job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

[otonymous]

“The Most Beautiful Girl In The World”: The Guys As Fathers (MLQC Headcanon)

Hi dear Nonny!

What a wonderful idea!  We could all use a bit of fluff every now and then 🤣 I hope you’re doing well too!  Sending you much love along with these headcanons!  Hope you enjoy the read! 🥰💖 

Victor:

Daddy’s little princess - this little girl is the CEO of Victor’s heart

She is also the unofficial CEO of LFG: Victor loves to bring her to work with him every now and then, and all the office staff go absolutely ga-ga over her

Goldman.  Is.  Smitten. (Especially since she has a way of softening Victor’s hard as nails exterior)

Victor likes to front like he’s strict, but he’s not fooling anybody.  Just one look at the tenderness in his eyes when he’s looking at his daughter would tell you who’s really the boss

Psst!  He loves to spoil her!

And by spoiling, we don’t mean that she gets whatever she wants, all the time (although daddy’s heart DOES thrill a little inside to see her all bubbly with happiness after he presents her with a gift) — Victor will also ensure that he carves out time from work to spend with his family (there will definitely be a shift in work-life balance)

He won’t let her get away with everything though!  The man will still insist that she be on her best behaviour when necessary, but he is a lot more lax than you would’ve expected from him

Family time would consist of: horseback riding lessons, teddy bear picnics and tea parties (best believe she will be sending an actual invitation in the mail to Mr. Mills) — you will absolutely melt the first time you see Victor perched uncomfortably in a tiny chair, holding a mini plastic teacup to his lips and asking a stuffed cat if it would like another scone

She LOVES to be Victor’s sous-chef in the kitchen, and when she gets a bit older, she’ll also become daddy’s jogging buddy

Victor will always, always read her a bedtime story, even when he’s away from home on business, even if it means interrupting a meeting (Victor will establish a new norm; his peers will come to respect his family values)

The absolute apple of the eye of Victor’s father and aunt: this munchkin can do no wrong.  If she is to be spoiled rotten by anyone, it would be by these two.  

Every time you go over to their place for dinner, it’s pretty much guaranteed that you’ll be leaving with a trunkful of new toys

This little girl would be a good mix of her mother and father: she’ll inherit her father’s jet black hair, but the intensity of her eyes will be softened by your genes

In spite of all this generosity, your little girl will grow up to be far from spoiled

She will be incredibly compassionate, and will go from donating her many, many books and toys to other less fortunate kids as a child to organizing charity functions, etc., as a young adult.  

Victor couldn’t be more proud.

Lucien:

The shift is seismic the very first time Lucien holds his newborn daughter in his arms

“She looks just like you,” he whispers to no one in particular, careful not to wake you as you get one night of precious sleep immediately postpartum before your nights become interrupted by endless wake-feed-soothing back to bed cycles

Lucien doesn’t sleep that first night in the hospital; he spends it cradling your daughter by the light of the moon seeping in through the thin slats of the blinds

The cool rays illuminate every single feature that Lucien sets his mind on memorizing: her eyes — still a little bit swollen, the flare of those tiny nostrils, the sharply defined cupid’s bow of the most perfectly shaped lips

He is putting his face to the downy soft hairs on the crown of her head, nose pressing to cheek to inhale the scent of his newborn daughter

A tiny seed of anxiety begins to sprout from deep within Lucien to know that he will never have this moment again with her, and it feels like time is already slipping from the tight grasp of his hand

But then suddenly, she opens her big, bright eyes.  Quietly, she stares at her daddy, her irises the same colour as the ones drowning in her gaze, and the nervous clench in Lucien’s gut dissolves

And when she opens and closes her mouth in a soundless gape as if to say that everything will be okay, Lucien knows he would give his life in a heartbeat to protect hers

This little girl is wise beyond her years, and will often say things that surprise the adults around her; family friends will refer to her as an “old soul”

She is far from a little chatterbox, preferring instead to listen and observe those around her, her big, bright eyes patiently taking in every detail

Initially, you’ll be concerned that she isn’t speaking as much as other children her age.  Lucien will take his time reassuring you, an almost knowing smile on his lips.

When she does finally speak, she blows everyone away with the relative complexities of her sentence structures

Little genius: your daughter shares her father’s intelligence and can often be found snuggling up under her favourite camphor tree, books and sketching pencils in hand

She loves flying kites with her mommy and daddy

Quiet but kind, she’ll have no shortage of friends and admirers

You might be surprised, but she also has a wicked sense of humour.  Enjoys delivering jokes with the cutest wink in the world.

Her favourite place in the world is daddy’s laboratory.  The noisy whirs of those big, fancy machines make her jump for joy and Lucien cannot help but smile

There are times — especially when you guys are at your happiest as a family — that Lucien has to fight back the anxiety that all this could be taken away from him.  The melancholic tinge in his smile is so slight that even you could miss it at times.  But your daughter will always catch it.  And when she does, she’ll slip her tiny hand within her father’s much larger palm, look up and give him the biggest smile she can muster.  It’ll always bring him back to the moment.

Little though she is, she gives him strength beyond compare

And on the day of her graduation from university at the top of her class, she’ll be given a priceless gift from her parents: a silver pen named Iridescent.

Gavin:

Usually so calm, cool and collected in even the most stressful of situations, Gavin is a nervous wreck when you go into labour

He is pacing back and forth and back and forth in the hospital room.  You almost want to send him on an errand to get some popular street eats with a guaranteed long line up just so he can calm TF down and not get in the nurses’ way

He is offering you ice chips before you even ask for it, patting at your forehead with a facecloth even though you’re not sweating, giving you his hand to hold every two minutes even though you haven’t started pushing yet

When you mention that he should probably try to calm down since you likely have at least another hour to go before your cervix is fully dilated, he nods in agreement and starts doing push-ups and sit-ups on the floor

The battery of Gavin’s phone dies from all of Minor’s messages asking if the baby has arrived yet

Birdcop is fit to burst from all the joy his body just simply cannot contain the moment his little girl arrives

Because now he has not just one, but TWO of you!

Your daughter will be the splitting image of you, except for her striking amber eyes

The names she gives her stuffed animals will be strangely familiar: Fluffy, Softy, Pearly Jr., etc. (you’ll have to ask her whether daddy helped with the naming 🤣).

Minor’s enthusiasm cannot be dampened: he is over so often with food, diapers and offers to do the housework that you basically have to make him your child’s godparent LOL

Gavin is a giant teddy bear when it comes to your daughter: he cannot say no to her and lives to see her smile

She is gifted with her father’s athleticism, and Gavin won’t hesitate to personally instruct her on the art of self-defence starting at a very young age (needless to say, any future suitors will be given very intense once-overs by Gavin, even little boys at the playground; you can never let your guard down)

Eli is on Gavin’s watch list the moment G-man overhears her shyly asking you about “daddy’s handsome coworker” the year she turned 8

Yes, she will also be getting a bracelet with a GPS tracker LOLOL

She is incredibly strong: could probably toss Minor around like a burlap sack by the time she’s 12

This little girl is all about the thrills, screaming, “Go higher, daddy!  Higher!” in Gavin’s ear as he flies with her on his shoulders

He will take her to the BEST places for stargazing at night (when she’s old enough to stay up) — best believe this is something G-man will lament the loss of when she’s all grown up

Yes, the motorcycle will be her ride of choice the moment she gets her licence (much to her parents’ chagrin)

Gavin cannot help but tear up every time he watches her play the piano, especially if she plays with her mother at the same time

Psst!  He has a photo in his study of the two of you sitting next to each other on the piano bench, the late afternoon sun streaming in through big, French windows, dappled by leaves falling from the ginkgo tree planted in the backyard

He only wishes his mother could’ve been there to see his beautiful baby girl

Kiro:

This little star charms absolutely everyone at first sight: the doctors and nurses that help deliver her are completely enamoured with this little bundle of joy

Tears are streaming from Kiro’s bright blue eyes the moment she is placed into his arms for the first time; he’ll bend over to give you the biggest kiss while gently cradling the baby, the salt of your tears mixing together

This little girl has the best laugh: clear and bright and like music to the ears of anyone lucky enough to hear it.

And she laughs often — daddy is hell-bent on filling her childhood with love and joy and will do anything to make her smile

You’ll often see Kiro crawling around the house on hands and knees, your daughter shrieking with laughter as she tugs on his golden hair, yelling “Giddy-up!” over and over again

Genetics aside, let’s just pretend that her hair is long and golden like her father’s.  At times, she literally looks like a doll come to life, especially with those azure eyes

Budding superstar: this girl has inherited her father’s talents when it comes to acting and music.  She is hitting those high notes, projecting that beautiful voice and basically hamming it up all the time just to get a laugh from her adoring family.

Kiro will “complain” about double standards because Savin will always have a tasty treat for her whenever he sees her, saying “Make sure your daddy doesn’t get any, okay?” LOL

At the same time, Kiro decides to (gasp!) cut down on his junk food habit when his daughter is born.  He actually already started out of solidarity during your pregnancy, and wants to be healthy so he can have as much time as possible with his beloved family

Kiro also cuts back on his workload when his little girl arrives.  This daddy is super involved in all aspects of taking care of his baby and his wife.  You’ll never hear him complain about having to change a dirty diaper.  In fact, he even does it better than you do — no leakages here! LOL

Kiro LOVES to dress his daughter up and will often wear matching outfits with her.  Baby and daddy denim overalls?  Check.  Father-daughter couture?  Check.  

Baby globetrotter: you guys will tag along with Kiro when he flies overseas to shoot on location.  Kiro loves having you and the baby near.

When she gets a bit older, you can bet that they’ll be the best gaming buddies (you’ll insist on her having completed her homework first, but Kiro will secretly let her play one game before she starts - “just don’t tell your mom, or else we’ll both be in trouble!”)

Charming and bright, your daughter is also a bit of a tech wiz.  Learns to code at a very young age under her father’s tutelage, and enjoys building computers from scratch as a hobby.

This little girl carries joy with her wherever she goes, spreading it around like warm sunshine

Shaw:

Shaw is soft, soft, soft the moment he becomes a father

He could be blasé about everything else, but not when it comes to his daughter, the absolute treasure of his heart along with his wife

There will be times that you wake up in the middle of the night and find his side of the bed empty.  You’ll hear his footsteps, softly pacing back and forth before a large window as he tries to sooth your infant daughter back to sleep.  Shaw will look like he literally stepped out of a ‘90s Calvin Klein ad campaign, topless and clad only in low slung pyjama bottoms as he cradles your daughter in his arms, the muscles of his biceps bulging in the pale moonlight that casts a silvery glow on his lavender hair.

(Example of a Calvin Klein ad from the 1990s)

Guess your thirst will have to wait till your daughter falls asleep again to be slaked LOL

This little girl will have her father’s amber eyes as well as the fine features of his face — she will slay all the kids in school with her beauty

Loves to snark her dad but is all sweetness to you (Psst! Shaw (not-so) secretly loves it!)

A fast-talker and quick-witted: sometimes, you think you can actually hear her mind working

Absolutely loves her daddy’s skateboard and would much rather learn new tricks on her own board than play with more age-appropriate toys

She is also a bit of a bookworm: loves to read and is often surprising you with new topics of interest, everything from ancient civilizations to meteorology

Your little girl will often snuggle up to him and ask him what he is reading.  Shaw will then proceed to read to her, even if it’s a paper or a textbook.  Her quick mind has been able to grasp even abstract concepts from a very young age.  She’s a bit of a genius in that respect.

Inherits her dad’s love of music.  The two of them will enjoy rocking out in the basement the moment she is big enough to properly hold an electric guitar (with you sneaking peeks every 5 minutes to make sure she’s still got her protective headphones on LOL)

She’ll take after her dad in that she’ll seem uncomfortable with the concept of authority starting at a very young age.  She questions nearly everything and will drive many of her teachers up the wall, although they will also recognize the extent of her incredible intellect.  She’ll set herself apart at school as a leader, having also the charisma to charm those who would wish to follow

Her dad, of course, is absolutely ecstatic to have a daughter capable of thinking for herself instead of blindly following others (and you will be too!)

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚 

(Please do not copy/alter/edit/repost my work - thanks!)

[introvertguide]

Modern Times (1936); AFI #78

The next film on the AFI list up for review is the Charlie Chaplin classic, Modern Times (1936). This movie is pretty universally loved with a 98% score on Rotten Tomatoes. It is one of Chaplin's overtly political films along with The Great Dictator (1940). Chaplin's tendency to poke fun at America for the way they handled the idea of Communism made this film rather unpopular during the 50s and 60s but has won back audiences since. There is not a lot to the plot of the movie, but it is something that I do in these reviews so let me start with a...

SPOILER WARNING!!! IT IS NOT DOING A LOT TO HURT THE FILM, BUT I AM GOING OVER THE EVENTS OF THE MOVIE!!! I HAVE TO WARN PEOPLE FIRST, SO HERE IS YOUR WARNING!!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tramp (Charlie Chaplin) works on an assembly line, where he suffers greatly due to the machinery. His coworkers hate him and his boss pushes him around. As the least productive worker, he is volunteered to try out a new feeding machine that will allow workers to be fed and continue to work. It is all too much and he starts having moments were he can't control his movements. He eventually suffers a nervous breakdown and runs amok, getting stuck within a machine and throwing the factory into chaos, so he is then sent to the hospital. Following his recovery, he leaves the hospital and sees a car drop a red flag that signifies a load sticking out of the back (it is an American thing.) The Tramp is mistakenly arrested in a Communist demonstration when he chases the car waving the red flag and protestors walk up behind him. As a comment on the time, he is immediately arrested (it will happen a lot in this film). In jail, he accidentally ingests smuggled cocaine, and, in his subsequent delirium, he is lost by the guards and avoids being put back in his cell. He realizes what he has done and, when he returns, he stumbles upon a jailbreak and knocks the convicts unconscious for which he is hailed as a hero and given special treatment. When he is informed that he will soon be released due to his heroic actions, he argues unsuccessfully that he prefers life in jail. It is not made super apparent, but he will try to get sent back to jail for the rest of the film.

Upon release, he applies for a new job as a boat builder with a note from the sheriff saying he is trustworthy, but leaves immediately after causing an accident in which the boat is prematurely launched and subsequently sinks. Soon after, he runs into an orphaned girl named Ellen (Paulette Goddard), who is fleeing the police after stealing a loaf of bread. Determined to go back to jail and to save her, the Tramp tells the police that he is the thief and asks to be arrested, but a witness reveals his deception and he is freed. This does not help his plan, so he then eats an enormous amount of food at a cafeteria without paying to get arrested. He once again encounters Ellen in a paddy wagon, however it soon crashes and she convinces him to escape with her.

The two roam the town and consider life with a house of their own and this motivates the Tramp to find work. He gets a job as a night watchman at a department store and lets Ellen in so they have a place to stay. There are some shenanigans on roller skates until the Tramp encounters three burglars led by "Big Bill," a fellow worker from the factory, who explains that they are hungry and desperate. After sharing drinks with them, he wakes up the next morning during opening hours and is arrested once again for failing to call the police on the burglars and for sleeping in the store’s clothes on a desk, shocking a customer and the storekeeper.

He spends some time in jail and, days later, Ellen takes him to a run down shack to live in that she found. The next morning, he reads about an old factory’s re-opening and lands a job as a mechanic's assistant. The other workers then suddenly decide to go on strike, and tell the Tramp to leave with them. Outside the factory, he accidentally launches a brick at a policeman and is arrested again.

He is released two weeks later and learns that Ellen is now a café dancer. She gets him a job as a singer and waiter, but he goes about his duties clumsily. During his floor show, he loses his cuffs, which bear the lyrics to his song, but he rescues the act by improvising the lyrics using gibberish and by pantomiming. Ellen is unfortunately wanted for vagrancy and, when police arrive to arrest Ellen for her earlier escape, the two are forced to flee again. Ellen despairs that their struggles are all pointless, but the Tramp reassures her. At a bright dawn, they walk down the road towards an uncertain but hopeful future.

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One thing fun that happens throughout this film is the music. There is the standard action music and that amazing gibberish number that was performed by Charlie Chaplin, but the lover's theme was written by Chaplin as well and it was later given lyrics, entitled "Smile," and notably performed by Nat King Cole. Here is a link to a YouTube video that has a nice montage of Chaplin films:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rkNBH5fbMk

Charlie Chaplin was also finally awarded with a Lifetime Achievement Academy Award after being unofficially blocked from Hollywood for decades because he refused to speak out against Communism. He received the longest standing ovation in Academy Award Ceremony history and his face is worth a million words although he barely speaks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3Pl-qvA1X8

So the video quality on the version that I saw was remastered and is absolutely beautiful. It is too bad that Chaplin did not get to see his work in such high resolution because it looks great. The jokes are mostly visual since it is a silent film and the crisp picture makes it obvious that the jokes still stand up. The commentary and satire is very straight forward and the slightest knowledge of the country at the time lets the viewer in on the joke. There is reference to poverty, fear of working in a dead end job, never finding love, and becoming irrelevant in an ever expanding world of mechanization. It is much more than just slapstick.

The woman that played the oldest orphan (Paulette Goddard) was in a relationship with Chaplin during the filming of the movie and the two were eventually married for 6 years. She was also the leading lady in The Great Dictator. Honestly, the constant scandal of Chaplin either marrying or impregnating his leading ladies (or both), his ambiguity about his politics, and his tendency to poke fun at the American government really hurt the box office returns for this film. In hindsight, though, it is easy to see that it was the public that was wrong and this movie is genius.

So does this movie belong on the AFI top 100? Oh yes. It probably deserves to be higher than it is, but that is more opinion. It is good satirical comedy that highlights the fears and anxieties of a nation and a major tipping point in history. It is discovering the public identity of a country through the eyes of a fool along the lines of Don Quixote or A Confederacy of Dunces. It absolutely belongs on this list. Would I recommend it? Absolutely with no caveats. This is a great film for any age group and I wish there was a way I could introduce it to the younger generations. It is historical, it is funny, and it is a good story that is relatable across generations. Great film.

[the25thviolence]

We haven’t begun to explore the levels of my own personal hell.  Renovating and adding more each passing year.  I swear I’ve repainted the childhood trauma room several times now.  Fights with other peoples alcoholism and addictions has been same for years but for some reason we kept having to expand.  I’ve knocked down a few walls around Ghost Readers rooms to make room for that stuff.  I had to add a whole new level for lost friends and lost love.  The level for impending death of family keeps expanding when I’m not looking.  Growing larger and larger each day.  Fear of myself is something that’s been around for awhile but I keep moving it from closet to closet.  I can’t seem to find room for it.  Maybe one day I’ll add more space for that.  I can barely keep together all these rooms inside of me.  

“I can’t stop living in this hell.  This hell is me and I can’t separate myself from myself.  Which is me?  The traveler or this place.  Am i the one burning or being burnt.  I feel coherent but unconscious.  I feel dead but I’m alive.  Do I even bleed?  Do I even exist? Or am I just a clever ploy of someone else’s brain contrived for entertainment and distraction.”  

.

.

.

“Sir, this is a Wendy’s”

“Yes, yes it is.  And is your Frosty machine still down for “maintenance”?” I say while placing my hands gently on the counter and leaning forward.

“...Yes.”

“Well, than I’ll continue to free style my words as the kids say in this fine establishment until its ready.”

The worker cautiously backed into the shadows and safety of her other coworkers.  Hiding behind whispers and staticy demands of number 9s and large fries bellowing from the drive thru speaker.  

I stand

I stare at the generic art that came with the frames on the wall.  The full trash cans and tables littered with dirty napkins and dried ketchup.  

Running my fingers against this stupid railing to keep people in line.  Why the fuck do they even need this.  

“Stupid” I say while kicking the condiment stand. 

“Why does this place exist.  Why do people work here.  Why do people buy food from here.  Its just a stupid little fast food place.  Salty fries and fatty burgers.  And extremely shitty drinks.  AND THE FROSTY MACHINE IS NEVER WORKING WHEN I SHOW UP.  Honestly this place should be shut down and forgotten about.” exclaimed the empty man. 

.

.

.

Suddenly the lights flickered off.  

“What..?” 

And a bright light started shining thru the entrance.  The door opening with a ring. 

“Wow, I still can’t believe that bell works.” said one of the floating lights. 

“Shut up Carl. Your surprised by that every time we come here.” said the second floating light as it lowered to reveal itself to be a police officer. 

The other officer lowered there light.  They stood and stared at the same man they’ve been staring at every Friday night for the last 2 months.  

“You really need to stop breaking in here.  This placed is closed as in permanently.’ said the second officer. 

The tired man inelegantly stood up from the baby seat he was awkwardly sitting on top of.  

“Sir, I’m waiting for my daughter to get out of work.  She gets out at 10 but they always make her stay till 11.  I’m not loitering I promise.” said the desperate man desperately.

Both officers sighed.  They’ve heard this story every Friday for the last 2 months and this night was no exception.  

“Why don’t you come with us and wait for her at the station.” sadly said the 2nd officer. 

“No, no.  She should be getting out any minute now.  I can’t forget about her again.” said the breaking man. 

“Maybe we should just come back and pick him up in the morning.” joked the 1st officer. 

“Last time we did that he ended up in the hospital with hypothermia remember:” exasperated the 2nd officer. 

“Oh yeah...”

The 2nd officer took out a pen and ripped a piece a paper out of his pocket notepad and placed it on the dusty counter. 

“Here, why don’t you leave her a note to let her know your coming back” said the 2nd officer.

“He’s coming back?” skeptically said the 1st officer. 

“Can it Carl you know will be here next Friday too.”

Carl threw up his arms in defeat and walked out of the condemned Wendy’s.

The man stared at the paper.  

“Please hurry up or you won’t be able to get back in time for your daughter.” said the 2nd officer thru gritted teeth as he lied.  

“Yes, yes I must hurry so I can come back in time.  She was so mad at me the last time I was late.  I promised I would never be late again” stammered the man picking up the pen. 

“Just write a quick note so we can leave”

The man put pen to paper and was done in a second surprising the 2nd officer. 

.

.

.

The 2nd officer shoved the broken mans head down and placed him in back of the car. 

As he closed the door Carl looked over the top of the car. “So what did he write?” 

“I love you.” said the 2nd officer.

“Wow I mean we’ve been partners for 6 months now..” coyly said Carl with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up Carl.  I mean that’s what he wrote on his note.” glared the 2nd officer. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.  My wife is waiting for me” 

“Yeah your wife is waiting for me too.”

“For the love of god please shut up Carl” yelled the 2nd officer. 

Carl laughed. 

The man cried in the backseat of the cop car. 

The lights on the Wendy’s sign flickered on and off for a few seconds before finally turning off. 

[justanotherwriter-fangirl]

A Reason To Stay (W. H.)

Word Count:  1,453 words.

Warnings: I don’t think so...

Request: Hi there, can I get a Will Halstead imagine, please? Like when Will had just come home from New York and was offered a job at the ED and he's late on his first day as he wasn't taking it seriously and was thinking of just going back to NY but when he step foot into Med, he caught sight of the reader, the only girl he has ever loved but screwed things up with and suddenly he found his reason to stay. Thank you x

A/N: Hi!!! First of all I feel like I need to say that I think I’ve never struggle so much with a story before so sorry in advance if it kinda sucks, with that being said this story took me so long because I couldn’t figure out exactly what I wanted to do so I ended up kinda sticking to the original plot presented in the “I Am The Apocalypse” episode where he’s introduced. :/ Anyway, I hope you like it and thanks so much for reading💕

Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.

Thanks for reading <3

________________________

He knew it had been a bad idea going out to have some drinks the night before his first day on a new job, the naked girl next to her who kept him awake most of the night proof enough of his mistake but truth to be told it wasn’t like he was too bothered about it either, it was only a job, a job he had accepted just for his brother Jay. 

The water in the shower was already running cold but he stayed there thinking about his life, the reason he was now in Chicago and everything he has left behind in New York, he couldn't believe how fast and how much his life had changed and how he truly wasn't feeling excited about his new life, his purpose lost behind, yeah. of course this new job could be a great thing but honestly nothing was better than being a plastic surgeon in New York, that was action. Well, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t planning on staying much longer.

As he got out of the bathroom a couple minutes later he realized he was a bit late and he felt a little guilty about it but not enough to rush out the door, still taking his time to dress, prepare his bag and go to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

Stepping outside his room he came face to face with the girl from last night, a quick good morning kiss before she was lost once again in his bedroom.

Entering the kitchen he was faced with Jay pouring himself a cup of coffee, the space was tight but this was only temporary, in a couple days he would be back at New York and he would have his old place back.

“When do you have to be at work?” Jay asked.

“Ten minutes ago?” he answered faking to look at his watch.

“It’s your first day”

“Uh, first and last, as it turns out” he added nonchalantly while looking for some fresh milk in the refrigerator “Almond milk? You don’t have any regular milk in here?”

“You’re joking” said Jay with a blank face, making him turn around.

“No, I got to get back” he said, taking the milk out to pour some in his flask to add coffee then.

“To what? I thought the partners kicked you out of the practice”

“They did, but, now, this may come as a shock to you, there are other practices in New York City” Will answered with a bit of humor, Jay really seemed to not get it at all.

“Hey, how ‘bout, for once, you see something all the way through” Jay said in the same tone as him.

“Wow, you sound like the old man” he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, 

“There it is” Jay sentenced not surprised at all, this wasn't new “I mean, that is why you’re blowing back out of town, right?”

“What do you care?” Will finally let out, he had no right to tell him anything.

“Just give it a couple weeks, at least” Jay said now defeated while following him out the kitchen as Will kept taking his things to get going. “You never know” 

“I got to go” he finished before watching his clock again and leaving out the door.

The way to the hospital wasn’t long but it did nothing to keep him from repeating the conversation over and over again in his head, if he didn’t get a headache from the night before, he definitely had one now. Why couldn’t Jay just let him go? Half of his life he had been away, what was the big problem now?

Stepping into the break room letting out a frustrated sigh he realized he wasn’t the only one there, some clattering noise coming from behind the fridge.

“When I took this job I didn’t know we did our own maintenance work” he said stepping closer to see who was it. A woman in her blue uniform working on the inside panel the fridge had at the bottom.

“I have a theory, Goodwin likes broken appliances ‘cause it means we have to spend more money at the vending machines” he heard muffled from his position but the voice had a familiar sound to it though he couldn’t figure where he had heard it before, a memory trying to make its way to the surface of his mind.

“The great vending machine conspiracy. You could get published in JAMA with that” he said playing along when suddenly a buzzing let them know the fridge was back to life. “Nice work” he added coming to the front to open the door and check it was actually working.

That’s when your form finally emerged from behind the fridge, now face to face you recognized each other, a million memories flashing to both your minds of your previous college romance, the most intense and passionate relationship either of you had ever had, never being able to feel the same ever again after that.

“Will?”

“(Y/N)?”

You both said in unison with the same shocked expression in both your faces but you were quicker to recover.

“What are you doing here? The last thing I knew about you was that you were leaving to Sudan” you questioned trying to put on a strong front and keep your feelings hidden, the pain of your break up coming back to surface after years of him being gone but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, you needed to know if the reason he left you behind for had been at least worth it.

“Yes, I went to Sudan and worked there as a doctor, it was amazing but after a while I came back, well, not here but to New York, I’ve been living there since and I spent some time working as a plastic surgeon but it doesn’t matter, tell me about you, please, I haven’t see you in years” he said nostalgic, the realization of how much he had missed you downing in on him.

You two had dated during your time in college, your connection was almost instant and before you knew it you both were dating. the two of you inseparable for years until one day he came to your place with a box full of your stuff in his hands, he was leaving, not only you but the country too.

He said he needed something more, that he couldn’t stay stuck in Chicago and it was his time to finally be free and, of course, that included being free from a long distance relationship that eventually would be doomed to end, leaving you behind with so much emotions to deal with, anger, frustration, pain and hope because despite it all you loved him and you only wished the best for him, hoping for him to found the happiness he was looking for.

“Well it’s going to sound so boring in comparison but, as you can already tell, I stayed here, went straight from college to a hospital and I’ve been working my ass off to become a cardiothoracic surgeon, I’m almost there now” you said looking into his eyes, a shy smile coming to your face knowing he had been happy all these years like you had hoped. 

“Hey, it’s not boring, this is what you always wanted, I’m proud of you, you followed your dream and now you’re living it” he said smiling softly at you, the same smile you had fallen in love so many years ago. Stepping forward he reached out to caress your cheek, the simple gesture still sending electroshocking pulses. 

Clearing your throat you took a step back, his hand falling from your face.

“Yeah, I guess, it’s been good, anyway, I’m glad to see you again, as it seems we’re coworkers now and I’d love to keep catching up but I need to go, I have a patient that needs me” you said quickly before turning around and leaving, he couldn’t know how much his presence still affected you, he had left you behind, he couldn’t just like that came back into your life and pretend everything was alright or like it had been before because it wasn’t, you were different now and so was he, you needed to get to know eachother again before anything could happen again between you two, even if it was only a friendship.

As he saw you exiting the door only a thought came to his head, he now had his reason to stay in Chicago, you, he was going to get you back because there was no way he was willing to let go again of the only woman he ever loved.

_______________________

Masterlist

[samanthaneedsanap]

So... I've been having some health problems recently and yesterday I went to the doctor. I was immediately sent to the ER because of my blood pressure and a pain in my chest. I was told not to get out of bed alone because they considered me a fall risk. Ok. EKG is done, blood work is sent to the lab and a chest x-ray is done, IV line put in hand but not connected to anything.

Then I wait ...a doctor comes in, doesn't identify himself and asks me 3 questions and leaves. Nurse comes in, injects something into the IV line and says it's "blood pressure meds", but won't give me a specific name for the medication.

I then spend 3 hours listening to the nurses make jokes about collecting phone numbers, flirting with EMTs and asking state troopers for advice on speeding tickets, etc etc etc.

At this point I need to pee. I hit the call button twice. Both times I hear it at the nurse's station and they just turn it off and go back to their conversation. I removed all my leads, and the O2 monitor, my machines start beeping like crazy....no one even checks on me. As I redress for my trip down the hall the doctor walks in and asks have I had my CT scan yet.

What CT scan I ask, and he proceeded to say he thought I needed one. I told him no I haven't and I need to pee. He tells me to call the nurse. I explained that I had. He walks out and I hear him tell them I need to go to the bathroom so I wait. 10 more minutes of gossip about coworkers and I grab my purse and go by myself.

I then hear them talking shit about the fact that I went. What the actual fuck? When I return to my room I am on the verge of tears and have no idea what is even happening. Having an anxiety attack at this point and just done with this shit.

So what did I do? I got a paper towel from the dispenser, and removed my own IV line and walked out. As I left no one at the nurse's station even noticed I was leaving.

Now I'm trying to figure out what to do from here. I know I need tests but I had such a bad experience I don't ever want to go to a hospital again.

P.s.- they weren't busy. There was 1 other patient with a laceration in the ER.

P.ps. today I got a call from the nursing director after telling my primary care doctor's office what happened and she said the nurses who were there yesterday have no idea what I'm talking about. Riiiight. 🙄🙄🙄

[horrorkingdom]

Creepy pasta

The Seer of Possibilities

Sometimes, otherworldly beings find interesting ways to try and contact you. They might use a Ouija Board, or maybe come to you in a dream, or sometimes they speak through another person. They each have their own style and preference that’s particular to them. The one who contacted Jack spoke to him through his computer, or, I guess you could say the communication was through onscreen text. The first time it happened, Jack had been sitting at his computer playing Solitaire. A blinking red light from the router indicated that his internet connection was down again. This was at least a weekly occurrence, and Jack was getting used to this spotty internet service. As he moved his cards, the game faded into a solid black screen and the red text appeared.

“Hi Jack, I need a favor from you. You’re a very special person and I know you’ll help me. I can’t ask this of just anyone. I really need your help.”

Jack paused for a second. The router light was still blinking red. “Is this some sort of joke?” He couldn’t help but wondering.

Several moments later the message continued, “Yes Jack, I know this is weird for you. But I don’t want you to worry. This is just a small, easy favor I need. I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.”

Now nearly in a panic, Jack reached around and pulled the internet cable completely from the wall.

“Still here, Jack. I don’t want to waste any more of your time so I’ll get right to what I need. Tomorrow when you go to work I need you to move the large potted plant that’s next to the elevator on the ground floor. All you have to do is pull it out three inches from the wall. If you do it at 8:17am nobody else will be in the area.”

Jack sat there, refusing to respond, still trying to figure out what was happening.

The writing continued, “Look Jack, I’m asking you because I KNOW you’ll do it. You won’t let me down. You’re special. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Jack pulled the power cord from the wall and the computer went blank. “Did that really just happen?” he thought.

Still shaking from the experience, he took a warm shower and got ready for bed, convincing himself that he’d either had some crazy dream or that is was just some elaborate joke. But who would play that kind of joke on him? He didn’t really have friends, or enemies.

He woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Work would start at 8:30am, and Jack was never late. He pulled into the parking lot at 8:10am. Normally he’d just go right in, but the message had told him to move the plant at 8:17am. Was he really going to do it? Overnight, Jack’s fear had turned into curiosity. Let’s say he moved the plant, he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong or illegal, right? In Jack’s mind, the most reasonable course of action was to move the plant. He’d do it, nothing would happen, and he’d be able to put this whole crazy matter behind him. One minute before 8:17 Jack left his car and walked towards the building. He entered the foyer at the exact time he was supposed to. The message was right, nobody else was around.

“Odd,” Jack thought. The building was normally busy this time of morning, but this temporary lull had been accurately predicted.

“Fine! Let’s see what happens,” Jack muttered to himself.

He walked up to the large potted plant placed firmly between the two elevators in the lobby of the ten story building. The plant looked like it was fake, a decoration people passed every day without really noticing. It was heavier than Jack realized. He put some might into his effort and pulled the plant out three inches to his best estimate. He stood back and looked at the plant, then looked around the lobby. People were coming in behind him now and the lobby was starting to fill up again. Nobody seemed to notice the plant was in a slightly different location, nothing seemed different at all. Jack skipped the next elevator and waited, waited for…something. But nothing happened. Finally Jack entered the elevator and made it to his 7th floor cubicle, on time like always.

If you ever asked Jack’s coworkers to describe him, you’d hear words like polite, quiet, respectful, and competent. And while those words were all accurate, they gave little indication of the truth, the truth that Jack really didn’t like most people. That’s not to say he disliked them, just that he had very little interest in getting to know them or being their friend, save for one. Allie, the girl who sat two cubicles down from him, was the only person he wanted to know more about. With her big smile, blonde hair, and beautiful figure, Jack was very interested in learning all about her. Despite his lack of success with women in the past, he was actually doing a fair job getting to know her. Every morning as he passed her cubicle, he’d stop for a chat. The chats were one minute at first, then two minutes, then several minutes. Jack was surprised that she actually seemed to like him.

On this particular morning, their daily conversation lasted only a couple of minutes. As they exchanged their morning greetings and talked about Allie’s wild night out, the elevator doors opened up behind them. Out hobbled James Bentley, the boss of both Jack and Allie.

James’ loud complaining could be heard throughout the office, “My damn foot!”

“What happened, James?” came the mumbled queries.

“It’s that damn plant they have in the lobby. I ran right into it and twisted my ankle.”

“James, you can barely walk. You need to go to the hospital,” came Allie’s concerned reply.

“Can’t do it now. I have meetings all day. Too important to cancel. I’ll just have to tough it out.”

Jack, feeling stunned, left Allie’s cubicle mid conversation and sunk down into his chair. It was his fault, he was sure of it. How could he have been so stupid and careless? Still, no use in worrying about it now. A twisted ankle would heal, everything would be alright.

Upon his return home, Jack went immediately to his computer and turned it on. As soon as the computer booted up, the screen went black and a new message popped up.

“How was your day, Jack?”

He sat there, staring at the screen, not knowing how to answer. The message on the screen continued, “Actually, I know how your day was, but never let it be said that I’m not polite. You’re wondering what’s going on. You want to know why James Bentley had to twist his ankle. Well Jack, this chain of events isn’t done playing out. I don’t want to tell you too much too soon, but this will all make sense to you in short order. Just go to work tomorrow like you normally do. Don’t worry about a thing Jack. You’ll be rewarded. You’re special. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Jack sat back in his chair. What was going on? Who was this was sending him messages? Jack’s curiosity was fully engaged, and he was almost a bit excited to see what would happen next.

The next morning at work started off as any ordinary day. Jack noticed that the plant had been pushed back fully against the wall, probably by the night cleaning crew. James Bentley showed up shortly after lunch, hobbling into the office on his one good foot.

“Man this foot is killing me,” Jack could overhear him say, but apparently James still had a meeting he didn’t want to miss. It wasn’t until around 3 o’clock that Jack saw him again. James, who always seemed to prefer Allie over others, came limping up to her cubicle.

“Allie, you’re not doing anything right now, are you?”

“Um, no. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow I guess.”

“Good, could you please drive me to see my Doctor? I probably should’ve gone yesterday, but I just couldn’t get away. This pain is just killing me right now and I don’t think I can drive myself, I barely made it here this morning and I don’t think I can even push the gas pedal right now. We can take my car if you want.”

“Yeah that’s fine James, I don’t have a problem taking you.” Turning to Jack she said her goodbye, “See you tomorrow, Jackie.” She put on her coat and slowly followed James as he struggled down the hallway. She gave a half turn and a shrug in Jack’s direction, with a little smile as she walked away. Jack felt even lonelier than normal when she was gone.

It was ten minutes later that they all heard the crash. It was preceded by the loud horn of an 18 wheeler and screeching brakes. The collision itself was a sickening thud of two large metal object colliding. Even on the 7th floor it was loud. The office workers gasped and ran to the windows.

“Is that James’ car?” One of them asked.

“Hard to tell from up here,” someone responded, “It’s so banged up.”

The horrifying implication of what’d just happened came to Jack immediately.

“No, no, no,” he though. “This can’t be true.”

Shaking all the way, he ran to the elevator and went to the ground floor along with several others from the office. Some of them were crying. As they joined the growing crowd around the scene of the accident, Jack could hear the far off sound of emergency sirens. Looking past the gawkers, he could see that the 18 wheeler had hit James’ car broadside, its driver had been thrown out onto the pavement where he lay motionless. James was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, motionless but with a surprised look on his bloody face. Jack couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. The driver’s side, where Allie was seated, had taken the hit. The space she’d been occupying had been compacted to a third of its original size. Allie’s head was smashed open and her twisted body was broken and battered. The crowd was stunned. Tears, screams, sirens; that was all Jack could hear. Without going back inside the building, Jack ran to his car and drove home, angry and sad.

He made the journey home and to his computer. There the machine sat, he wanted to turn it on, but was afraid of what he’d find out. Was he really the one responsible for Allie’s death? The whole chain of events had started with him. He knew he was to blame. Jack reached for the power button, and then pulled his hand back. Finally, after several minutes, he found the mental strength to turn it on. The screen flickered and then went black, and the familiar text started appearing on the screen.

“No Jack, it’s not your fault. I know you’re blaming yourself. But all people die eventually, some just sooner than others.”

Jack stared at the screen. He resisted the urge to throw the monitor to the ground.

After a moment, the writing continued, “Jack, I’m going to tell you something, and I really need you to seriously consider everything I’m about to say. You thought you were in love with Allie. The truth is, you just wanted to fuck her. And please excuse my language, but every once in a great while it’s best to be blunt. Jack, she wasn’t the one for you. She would’ve made your life miserable. Yes, you would’ve eventually found the courage to ask her out. She actually was interested in you. She thought you’d make a good “project.” Sad really, for her, not for you. I want you to think back to all the things she told you. Why did her last boyfriend break up with her?”

“Because she cheated on him,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

“Because she cheated on him, Jack. The same thing she would’ve done to you. She would’ve made you happy for about 2 months, and then miserable for the next 4 years. Sneaking around, laughing at you behind your back, spending all your money. Once you finally got rid of her, you would’ve been so jaded that you’d never date again. This is true Jack. I see all future possibilities, the ones that come to pass and the ones that don’t. You’ve seen how she really is Jack, but you let your lust for her blind you to the truth. Together, you and I have made sure you avoided that path. One more thing Jack, this isn’t done playing out yet. There’s more to come.”

“No! Fuck you! You killed her!” Jack screamed and threw the monitor from the desk. It landed on the floor and sparked out.

Jack got barely any sleep that night, and the next day he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to work, but the last words he’d been told had piqued his curiosity, and his anger had somewhat subsided. No work was done that day at the office. The company brought in grief counselors, people shared their thoughts, they cried, they hugged. James had actually survived the accident, but was in a coma. The doctors thought he might recover eventually, but nobody was really sure.

Late in the afternoon, Jack was approached by Diego Salbara, the head of the division. Diego was blunt and upfront, and he offered James’ position to Jack. Technically it would be a temporary promotion, but James wouldn’t be back any time soon. Diego promised him that the promotion would be made permanent once enough time had passed.

“Let’s keep this low key for now.” Diego told him. “I know it might seem quick, but the Lancaster project James was working on can’t be stopped. It’s too important to the company. I need someone in charge right away, this can’t wait.”

Stunned, Jack accepted the promotion. He left work with a strange mixture of feelings, not really sure how he felt about anything. On his way home, he stopped at the electronics store and bought a new monitor. He made it home and powered up the computer. Once again the writing came on the screen.

“Jack, I want to be the first one to congratulate you! I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Jack stared at the screen.

“Jack, I have to ask your forgiveness because haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m called the Seer. Like I told you before, I see what will be, and I see what can be. It’s a very powerful gift I have. But you know what, Jack? For all my power, I still can’t do anything corporeal. I can predict, I can see, and with enough effort, I can even communicate. But I don’t have a body, that’s something that was taken from me a long, long time ago. That’s why I need you Jack. I’m an artist of sorts, an artist of human manipulation. You’ll be my paintbrush and my canvas. I want you to work with me Jack. It’s all very simple, just perform simple tasks for me, from time to time.”

Jack was becoming more and more curious.

“And Jack, before you give me an answer, I want you to know a couple of things. First off, I’ll never lie to you. Secondly, I’ll never ask you to do anything which, taken by itself, is wrong or illegal. Yes, bad things will result, and sometimes people will die. But they’re going to die eventually anyways, right Jack? And the bad will always be balanced out by something good happening to you.”

Jack winced at this last idea, but he fought the urge to turn the computer off. The Seer was right. Everyone would die eventually, why not let something good come of it? And what about never lying to him? If he’d known at the time that Allie was going to die, he’d have never gone through with the original favor. But as he thought more about it, he realized The Seer hadn’t lied to him, but had only withheld information. Still, Jack wondered if he could trust The Seer.

“Work with me Jack, together we’ll make incredible things happen. I’m just asking you to perform little tasks from time to time. Oh, but these little tasks will have great consequences! They’re going to be beautiful Jack, and they’ll always end with a reward for you. That’s the beauty of my art, one single task produces something bad and something good. Oh, one last thing Jack, I can see you’re having trouble with this. If I stopped talking to you right now, it would take you about two weeks to decide to join me. But you know what Jack, you WOULD join me. That’s right, you’re going to say yes. So instead of waiting, why don’t you just say yes to me now? Let’s get started Jack. And when all this is over, you’re going to thank me. I promise you.”

Jack considered what The Seer had just said. His initial feeling of revolt was slowly fading. He paused, and then for the first time, he placed his fingers on the keyboard and responded directly to The Seer. “What do you want me to do next?”

_____________________________

As years passed, Jack did every favor the Seer asked of him, and as the Seer had promised, Jack was rewarded for his actions each time. The rewards often came in unexpected and interesting ways. One of the more memorable experiences for Jack happened about 2 years after he first agreed to help the Seer.

“Jack, I need you to go downtown tomorrow,” the Seer requested. “Enter Garmin’s Liquor at exactly 12:37pm. A man will ask you a question. The answer you’re to give him is ‘twenty seven.’”

As always, the Seer’s instructions were simple and direct, yet mysterious. The next day, as requested, Jack entered the store. In front of him, a burly construction worker was at the counter filling out a lottery playslip.

“Let’s see here,” said the construction worker, “My birthday, that’s the 15th, my wife’s birthday, that’s the 24th, and my kids’ ages, two, ten and thirteen.”

The man scratched his head and looked around, zeroing in on Jack, “Hey buddy! I need another number. Ya got one for me?”

Jack smiled, “Twenty seven.”

“Really? I was thinkin’ bout playin’ thirty five. But ya know what? I like your face, let’s go with twenty seven!”

With that, the man completed his slip and paid for his lottery ticket. “See ya, pal!” he said happily and he patted Jack on the shoulder on his way out the door.

Jack tried not to put any more thought into what would happen to this man. “Just let these things play out, Jack. You’ll never guess how things end up, so just let yourself be surprised,” the Seer had advised him. Still, it was impossible not to wonder about these things from time to time. He knew, considering the way the Seer worked, there was no way possible that he’d actually helped this man. But giving him a losing lottery number? That was too simple for the Seer. And he couldn’t imagine he’d actually given him a winning number. So that’s how Jack was surprised, when two weeks later, he ran into the same man again, this time at the grocery store.

“Hey buddy! It’s you! I remember you! Check it out, I won!” Indeed, the man looked like a million dollars. Wearing new clothes, a new gold watch, and a big goofy smile, the man walked right up to Jack.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I’m glad you’re here. I coulda never won without you. Hey, lemme buy these groceries for you. No wait, that’s not good enough for you, you’re my good luck charm. Always gotta treat people right, that’s what my mom says.”

Reaching into his pocket, the man removed his checkbook and promptly wrote Jack a check for ten thousand dollars. “It’s the least I can do for my good luck charm.”

After thanking the man, and feeling a bit confused by the whole thing, Jack raced home to his computer. After turning it on, the Seer’s writing appeared on the screen. “Well Jack, how does it feel to be ten thousand dollars richer?”

“It feels good. But I can’t help but wonder, we’ve never helped anyone before. Why are we starting now?” Jack asked that question with a tinge of guilt. He never liked to admit that people were being hurt by his actions, but in this case his curiosity overwhelmed any latent feelings of guilt.

“Oh Jack, we haven’t helped anyone. Yes, that man is happy now, but he’ll have lost every last penny within two years. You saw it for yourself, he just gives money away. Old friends, lost relatives, they’re all going to come asking him for money. And there will be some very bad investments as well. The stress of losing everything is going to cause his wife to leave him. She’ll take the kids too. He’ll be alone and broke, a ruined man who would have been much better off if he’d never won. You needn’t feel bad Jack, it’s the man’s own stupidity and greed that will do this to him.”

Jack felt some regret, but the Seer’s rationalizing, and focusing on his own reward, always put him at peace in the end.

Through the years, no two tasks were ever alike. Sometimes the effects of his actions were direct and easy to see, other times they caused a chain reaction so complex that he simply could not follow it.

“Go to the County Administrator’s building, park in space number 43 at 4:47pm.” came one such request. Jack did so, and two months later he met Donna, with whom he fell in love and ended up marrying. He wouldn’t have even known the two events were even related if he hadn’t asked the Seer about it.

“Jack, when you parked in that space, you caused the person who would’ve parked there to park in a different spot, but she bumped the car next to her. She barely made a scratch, but she called her insurance agent anyway, causing him to leave the office late. He missed his train home, and while waiting for the late train, he was mugged and stabbed, he’ll never fully recover. The muggers took his credit cards and used them…..and Jack, I could keep going with this, but there’s another twenty three people involved. Sometimes these favors are going to be very complicated, but let’s just say your action ultimately caused Donna to be in the exact right place for you to meet her.”

Jack’s relationship with the Seer grew. Though remaining mostly mysterious, the Seer divulged enough information over time so that Jack could get a generalized understanding of the Seer’s history. From historical references, Jack knew the Seer was thousands of years old. When still alive, the Seer had been a powerful fortune teller and artist, who foretold future happenings through paintings. A foolish king, who misinterpreted the Seer’s prediction and lost a battle as a result, had the Seer executed. Unencumbered by physical senses, and existing in a lonesome void, the Seer’s abilities expanded exponentially. Finally learning to communicate with the living, the Seer began reaching out to those who would respond, including Jack. And of course, the Seer knew everything about Jack. In all, it was as much of a friendship as one can have with a dead person. And Jack was grateful to the Seer too. He had a nice job, a nice house, a beautiful wife, and people respected him. He was happy, which is something he never really felt before the Seer contacted him.

Twelve years in total passed, twelve good years for Jack. Task after task was completed, usually about one every month. Jack, sitting in the office of his large rural house, was contacted by the Seer once again.

“Hi Jack, I have a favor to ask of you. This one’s the easiest yet, you don’t even have to get up. Call Riago’s Pizza in exactly two minutes, let the phone ring three times, then you can hang up.”

Jack smiled, nice and easy. He no longer wondered about how these tasks would play out. He trusted the Seer and simply did as he was told. Jack made the call, exactly two minutes later.

The quietness of the household was broken 30 minutes later by the ringing doorbell. “That’s odd,” Jack thought. Neither he nor Donna were expecting anyone. Jack looked out the peephole and saw a pizza deliver boy. The logo on his cap said “Riago’s Pizza”.

Jack opened the door. “Here’s your pizza,” said the boy as he thrust it into Jack’s hand.

“But I didn’t order this.” Jack argued.

“Look, I don’t give a damn if you ordered it or not. Mr. Riago told me to take it here, so that’s what I’m doing.” the delivery boy argued, as he looked increasingly annoyed and spat in the bushes.

Jack looked at the boy in front of him. He looked to be about seventeen years old, but the most noticeable thing about him was his size, he was huge. Probably about six and a half feet tall, and very muscular.

“It’s already paid for by credit card, just take it, because I’m not driving it back.” The boy put out his hand for a tip.

“I, I don’t have any cash on me.” Jack told the truth.

“Whatever,” came the disgusted reply. The boy looked past Jack into the house, then turned and walked slowly to his waiting car, looking over his shoulder as he walked.

Jack closed the door and took the pizza to the living room, where Donna was watching TV. After explaining what had happened, he excused himself to go to his office, promising to return shortly.

Donna opened the pizza and took a piece. “Come back soon sweetie, this pizza’s got all your favorite toppings on it.” Donna giggled as she took a bite.

Arriving at his computer, the Seer’s words appeared on the screen. “Confused, Jack? Don’t be. Your neighbor down the road ordered the pizza. Mr. Riago told that boy the correct address, but a ringing phone made it difficult for him to be heard clearly. Still, give the boy credit, he got the street right at least.”

“So my reward is a pizza?” Jack typed, a little confused.

“Yes Jack, your reward is a pizza, and also the chance to spend a little time with your wife. Go down there, share the pizza, enjoy it. When you’re done, make love to Donna. That’s not one of your tasks, that’s just some advice I think you should follow. Oh, by the way, your neighbors who ordered the pizza are arguing right now, over the silly fact that the pizza didn’t arrive. Some of the things people argue over amaze me, they really do. Their fight is going to get very heated, but you don’t need to worry about that. Go, enjoy your night.”

Jack followed the Seer’s advice, cuddled with Donna as they enjoyed their meal, then made love to her on their big, comfortable living room couch. Donna fell asleep on the couch shortly after 11:00pm. Jack lay there awake, this latest favor, it just felt odd. Carefully extracting his arm from under Donna, Jack left the living room and headed upstairs. Sitting down at the computer, Jack typed, “Are you there?”

“Yes Jack, I’m actually always here. I’ve been waiting for you to come back. That pizza delivery boy. He’s quite a specimen, isn’t he?”

Jack looked quizzically at the screen.

The seer continued, “He’s a horrible employee. He was hired only three days ago and already Mr. Riago wants to fire him, but as a physical specimen, he’s strong, fast, and VERY observant. For example, he noticed that you didn’t lock the front door after he delivered your pizza.”

“What?” Jack said aloud as he started to get up.

“Sit down Jack. I need to tell you something important, and locking the door now won’t change your situation.”

Jack slowly took his seat again at the computer, looking behind himself as he did so.

“You see Jack, it’s true that I never lied to you. Everything I’ve ever told you is 100% honest. But yes, I’ve withheld certain facts. You see, I told you that every task causes something bad to happen to someone else and something good to happen to you, but there’s a third thing. There’s an ultimate goal that each task was working toward. Remember Allie? Of course you do. What you probably don’t remember about her is that she was helping to pay her brother’s way through college. When she died, he had to drop out. He was going to be a great psychologist, but now he works in a factory instead. That’s really too bad for our pizza delivery boy, he could’ve used a good therapist a few years ago, but that good therapist wasn’t there for him, instead he got some Freudian quack. And remember our lottery winner? Yes you do. He was a neighbor to our pizza boy, after he lost all his money of course. He beat the boy senseless after the boy jumped into the street in front of his car. Quite a traumatic memory for our young lad. And his mother didn’t care about that incident, didn’t protect the boy at all. She couldn’t, not after using all the drugs given to her by her boyfriend, who happened to be one of the muggers who robbed that insurance agent. He bought the drugs with the money he made from the robbery. Do you see now the scope of my artistry?”

Jack sat, glaring at the monitor. He wanted to get up, to check on Donna, but he was too scared to move.

The Seer continued, “Jack, you’ve done over a hundred tasks for me, and each one has served an ultimate purpose, to psychologically destroy this boy, turn him into a monster, and to bring him here tonight. Don’t you see Jack? This involved tens of thousands of people, and billions of possibilities. If you had failed to complete even one of the tasks, the whole chain would’ve collapsed. This was orchestrated by me, and set in motion by you. Together we’ve done something wonderful, this is a masterpiece of human manipulation. Our masterpiece. And it all begins and ends with you, two perfect points in time. Tonight, wrong address, no tip, this poor boy finally snapped. He’s downstairs right now. He’s slitting Donna’s throat, at this exact moment.

Jack could hear a short, muffled scream coming from the living room, followed by a gurgling noise.

“No!” Jack screamed and stood up, starting to run downstairs.

“Jack, stop!” The voice startled Jack. It was inside his head. For the first time, the Seer was talking to him directly. It was a pleasant voice, a feminine voice. “You can’t do anything, she’s already gone. He’ll be coming for you shortly, and you can’t stop him.”

“But why?” Jack cried with tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s not an artistic masterpiece if it doesn’t begin and end with you, Jack.” Her voice was soothing. “I want you to appreciate the fact that I’m talking to you directly. This requires all of my energy, and as a result, I’ll have to rest for several years before I can contact anyone again. That’s how special you are to me. Please don’t feel bad about this, Jack. I want you to take a moment and enjoy our accomplishment as much as I do.” The voice paused briefly, and then continued. “Do you know what Jack? If I’d never contacted you, you would have lived for eighty five years. Eighty five boring, meaningless, and bitter years. And when you died, nobody would’ve been at your funeral. I gave you twelve great, meaningful years. You were happy, and together we did something beautiful, something unique.”

Jack paused a minute and considered his twelve years of happiness, and his tears of sorrow mixed with tears of joy. He turned and looked at the computer, while behind him, the massive hulk of the demented delivery boy appeared in the doorway, a bloody knife in his left hand.

On the screen, the last words from the Seer appeared, “Don’t you have something to say to me, Jack?”

Jack wiped his tears, and absorbed everything the Seer had just told him.

As the hulk started stepping closer to him, Jack said mouthed his final words, “Thank you.”

Credit To – Thomas O.

[caleblewis94]

Preview: The Door To Infinity

           Puck was now a forty-two-year-old man who still hadn’t learned his last name due to a grease stain from a slice of pizza obscuring the name on his birth certificate in the no-good year of 1978. Why couldn’t his mother or one of his eleven older siblings have told him somewhere during these last 4.2 decades, you ask? Why because they had all died in an oxygen tank explosion that had completely obliterated the house before the Fire Department could even arrive, of course. What else could have possibly happened? Puck’s mother whose name was literally Mother, and who had once been a nun before she was banned for playing Elton John on the church organ, could actually be called Mother Mother, the mother of Puck, because as the saying goes: once a mother, always a mother. That sure is a mouthful, thank God she’s dead.

Mother returned home from the hospital bringing with her a cart of portable oxygen bottles for her own mother, Mother the first, who suffered from COPD which was exacerbated by the pre-existing condition of being apt to not listen to advice or heed warnings. Upon the delivery of oxygen bottles, Mother Mother the mother of Puck finally thought to cut the umbilical cord. The wailing mucus membrane with the fat, pudgy face of a forty-two-year-old man on the disproportionately large head of a newborn had tripped her on the way up the stairs, reminding her that she had forgotten to “forget” him at the hospital. With a sigh, she cut the umbilical cord with the first thing she could find: a pair of safety scissors. The act was hilarious and took nearly fifteen minutes to complete. Afterwards, she lugged the oxygen bottles in and gave them to her ornery old witch, but minus the cool magical powers, of a mother.

Some say that a mother’s intuition can cause her to feel an impending sense of danger to her own. Perhaps this is why she went lovingly outside, cradling the slimy, writhing middle-aged newborn in her tattooed and cigarette burned arms,  and ever so carefully dropped Puck into the first pile of trash she had found lying by the street, which just so happened to be a random bale of hay in a DIY manger that her neighbors had attempted to assemble after purchasing it from Ikea before growing frustrated and throwing it half-finished in the street. One can say this motherly intuition saved the baby named Puck that would one day grow up to become the man named Puck. Then again, her motherly instinct didn’t seem to apply to her other eleven comically-named children.

Mother Mother, the mother of Puck, went back inside her home. Puck no longer cried. Now he sat in the Ikea manger with his arms crossed and his lower lip jutting out. This would become his signature look which would make him quite popular, albeit for mocking purposes, with all of the former high school football stars who would form the majority of his coworkers at the glue factory in his adulthood. Moments after his mother entered the house behind him, he would hear, though he wouldn’t understand because he was a baby and everybody knows babies can’t understand words, his mother shouting at his grandmother in her obnoxious twang of a Country accent that Puck would thankfully never acquire himself.

“God Dayum, you old bat, Cain’t you read?” Mother Mother, mother of Puck shouted.

“I can read, you little skank. I’m just having me a cigarette,” Shouted Mother, mother of Mother Mother the mother of Puck.

“I’m tired of you smokin’ meemaw!” Shouted the shrill voice of one of Puck’s siblings. Judging by the whiny tone, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume it was Kyle.

“That’s too dayum bad.”

“The sign says no smoking, because it could explode if exposed to fire!” Mother Mother, mother of Puck shouted back.

“Then why hasn’t it yet?”

“Comical effect!”

In completely coincidental, and in no means embellished or made-up fashion, the entire house exploded immediately after the joke in the dialogue was wearing thin. The sound of the explosion sounded to Puck like the winner to the 1978 Darwin Awards if they were around in that terrible, no-good year of 1978. Kaboom with a capital KA.

Now, it’s reasonable to ask why Puck? Why this ugly, slimy, miniature spitting image of Donald Trump? Why did this little clump of living smegma survive in lieu of his entire family being incinerated instantly like a bunch of redneck Icaruses that flew directly into the sun because they didn’t believe the Science that said the sun can hurt you? It is because of a thing called fate. Puck wasn’t meant to die that day. For, you see, you beautiful reader, you, Puck was destined for greater things, like developing a nicotine habit he couldn’t quite kick, working in a glue factory overseeing the melting of the horses, and his destiny to die in a hilarious accident involving a shopping cart at the age of 42. As a wise man once said, so it goes.

∞

           Puck, now a forty-two-year-old man full of past traumas and experiences that shaped him into the disgruntled, burned-out, and inconsiderate grump that people subconsciously hoped would drop dead, went to the supermarket. What he bought at said supermarket holds no importance whatsoever to the rest of the novel, but for the record was; 19 bushels of crab legs, 30 cans of Ragu spaghetti sauce, 20 gallons of vegetable oil, 12 cartons of increased fat milk, 8 sticks of extra-salted butter, 57 liters of Mountain Dew, 3 bottles of Coca-Cola that had been stuffed under the clearance shelf since 1958, 5 jugs of eggnog, despite it being the middle of April, two of those obnoxiously bright blue lightbulbs for some reason, and a Milkyway Lite because he was trying to watch his figure.

           Puck pushed his shopping cart outside. Of course his luck would have had him picking the cart with the broken wheel, causing it to limp along like a sprinter who had torn their ACL and was desperately trying to hobble their way across the finish line. Plus, the fact that he had so much food weighing down the cart didn’t help him steer it any easier. Life was so hard for poor Puck. On his way to his car, Puck was passed by an old lady on one of those automatic shopping carts that truly highlighted the pinnacle of modern invention. The old woman was smoking three cigarettes at the same time, blowing tendrils of smoke through her nostrils like a dragon who had already expended all of his (or her) fire and couldn’t ejaculate any more. She had an oxygen tank on the back of the cart, though she wasn’t using it. Maybe she’ll need it later, Puck thought. Yes, riding an automatic shopping cart around a store for an hour sure is exhausting work.

           Puck got to his car and popped the trunk, which promptly swung open much faster than normal, hitting him in the chin because even his car was tired of his shit. In the background was the sound of an explosion, but Puck thought nothing of this. He flung the groceries in the trunk and shut it back, then he promptly took the shopping and left it right there in the middle of the street, despite there being a coral only twenty feet away. It wasn’t that Puck didn’t see the coral—he did—he just decided to rebel. It was his way of sticking it to the proverbial man. Puck got in his car and drove home, the shopping cart looming menacingly in the parking lot, vowing to get revenge on the forty-two-year-old-man.

           When Puck got home, he realized that he had forgotten to also purchase a diet Mountain Dew, because—how can he watch his figure without a pound of aspartame in his system?—Puck lovingly kissed his wife goodbye, and by lovingly kissed his wife goodbye, I mean he didn’t kiss her goodbye, he simply said “I forgot something, be back in ten” then left. However, he wouldn’t be back in ten. In fact, he also wouldn’t even be back at the supermarket in ten, traffic was awfully heavy for two in the afternoon on a Sunday. Also, he wouldn’t ever be back because he would be killed in a tragic, yet hilariously Shakespearean way. A way that said, maybe there is a God who occasionally involves himself in the affairs of humans to deliver righteous justice.

           Puck went to the self-checkout line again, but this time at least he actually had under ten items. He hated the small talk Cashiers would make with him, especially the pretty twenty-something-year-old ladies who would make blatant attempts to flirt with him by saying things like “Good morning, sir,” “Paper or plastic?” and, worst of all, “Would you like a receipt?” The total on the screen came up to three dollars and twenty-three cents after tax. It was a bit more than he thought it had cost when he was just here half an hour ago, but he was trying to watch his figure, dammit, so he would not and could not be stopped. He paid for the bottle, and also a banana, and left, not even bothering to take the receipt that had printed from the machine.

           “Have a nice day,” said a blonde and blue-eyed nineteen-year-old with a smile that conveyed anything but a genuine smile inside. It was a smile that seemed to say that this young lady was going through her own personal troubles and was having a tough time but was trying her best to be strong and kind to others. To anyone else it would be inspiring, but to Puck it was just another attempt to flirt with him. Puck, not wanting to be rude, gave her that kind of sideways smile any suburban white person would give someone they accidentally made eye contact with in public, and walked by, sidestepping a random broken piece of an oxygen bottle by the door. As he crossed the windy threshold that separates the land of groceries from the humid, suburban air of the Greater Atlanta Area, he swallowed the banana in one gulp. It was a fun party trick he had learned in college. He didn’t have to waste time chewing, and everyone loved it. Especially the random man he had accidentally made eye contact with in the process of the great swallow.

           Puck walked out into the crosswalk without looking both ways, not that he needed to look both ways, there were stop signs and everybody in the United States obeys stop signs. He dropped the banana peel absentmindedly onto the ground and made his way towards his car.

           As Puck approached his car, he bumped into the shopping cart he had left sitting in the street—not the corral, mind you—thirty minutes prior. The cart rolled forward towards him, ready for its vengeance. If it were alive and wielding a knife, it would totally stab Puck right in the abdomen. For far too long Puck had violated its shopping cart family’s rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of being put back in the corral. But, luckily for Puck, it wasn’t alive. It was a shopping cart. In frustration with this minor inconvenience, Puck pushed the cart further into the street with one swift kick.

           “I should have used a basket,” He muttered to himself.

           However, the shopping cart heard him make this remark. Or it would have heard him if it were alive and had ears or some other method for processing auditory information. And if it were alive and capable of not just processing auditory information but also understanding English, this comment would have been the last straw. The shopping cart would teach him a lesson if it were alive. Puck was so lucky it wasn’t alive.

           Puck turned back to his car and fished for his keys in his pocket, except the keys weren’t there. What the hell, Puck thought. I just had them! He checked his pocket again as if he could possibly miss a keychain the size of Timbuktu, and to his utter shock, the keys hadn’t pulled a David Copperfield and magically reappeared. He turned back around to head into the store and angrily ask the poor girl behind the customer service desk if anyone had found and returned his car keys, as if she were the one herself who had misplaced them. However, before he could do so, something glimmering beneath the partially clouded sky caught his eye. His car keys lied in the bottom basket of the shopping cart that, after being kicked, scampered away before settling eighteen feet away from Puck and just a measly two feet from the corral.

           You got him now, you devious shopping cart you, the corral would have thought if it were alive and capable of thought. With a long, drawn out sigh, Puck crossed the street. He removed the keys from the lower basket and glanced at the corral which was now literally not even out of his way to return the cart to. The shopping cart was already facing towards the corral like a baby reaching out for its mother. Puck didn’t even have to walk forward at all to return it, all he had to do was lightly push the cart and it would be back in its rightful place. Puck didn’t do this. Instead, he took the cart and placed it back in the middle of the street for some reason, and then went back to his car.

           This would have been the final straw for the shopping cart if the shopping cart had any packets of straws left to give, never mind the rude comment about getting a basket instead. Oh, if only the shopping cart were alive and capable of inflicting punishment upon this horrible man with an even horrible-er—or, dare I say—horrible-est name. Puck? More like duck, the shopping cart would have thought, not that the cart would have any prejudices against ducks, it was just a slightly speciest saying it would have learned growing up in a family of shopping carts in the Southern states.

           Suddenly, like a car that had hit a pothole at 110 miles-per-hour, causing it to flip over multiple times before flying into a tree, a car driving at 10 mph, ignoring the 5 mph speed limit sign on the wall next to the cross walk, struck the banana peel Puck had left in the middle of the street. The car going twice the speed limit, lost control and swerved to the left, ironically enough while using a blinker. The out of control car collided with the poor shopping cart with an unquenchable thirst for blood and vengeance at the devastating speed of 2 mph. Puck turned around in time to see the accident.

What, scientifically speaking, should have sent the cart forward with the same force as the weak kick Puck had given the cart minutes earlier, oddly enough launched the cart at the speed of 200 mph directly at the man who never put his carts back in the corrals where they belong. Puck didn’t even have time to realize the error of his leaving-shopping-carts-in-the-middle-of-the-street ways, before the cart flew directly into his face, causing his head to explode like the 125,452nd watermelon destroyed by the great philosopher Gallagher, splattering blood all over a man walking past who had made the foolish mistake of wearing a white t-shirt over-confidant in his ability to avoid acquiring a stain, and sparking the obsession with blood of a three-year-old who was watching the whole scene unfold through a pair of binoculars from his parents’ house across the street.

Puck, the youngest son of Mother Mother the mother of Puck, and the youngest grandson of Mother the mother of Mother Mother the mother of Puck, was dead, though his story and misadventures wouldn’t end there. It was a tragic death. Nothing that has ever happened in human history has ever been more tragic than the death of Puck on that cloudy April day in the year of whatever year this is being read in. But don’t be sad—stop crying, society says it’s not cool to cry with empathy—for there was a sign that he had read thousands of times before that read: Please put your shopping cart up, we can’t afford another fatal accident. So, if it makes you feel any better, Puck kind of deserved it.

[softboywriting]

Alone Together | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn have been friends since you were in high school. The two of you never got together, the time was never right. Now at twenty five you’ve got a lot on your plate and Shawn is there to help out. [non-au] [fluff] [sfw]

Word Count: 10k

|Masterlist In Bio|

A wedding dress hangs in the closet of a house that's not yet lived in. New things fill the rooms, the paint smell and new wood odor not completely gone yet. Funny. You're not sure why you decided to bring the dress to the house first, maybe just to put new with new, maybe just to remind you of what was never meant to be. You look around. Everything is perfect, beautiful and so...lonely. Never in your life had you had a new home, never did you have all new things. This was a first and you just have the hardest time wrapping your head around the fact that this is all yours. It's all yours and no one else's.

The phone rings and you pull it from your pocket. It's Shawn. Your best friend from high school, your long time crush, the one guy you trust above all others. “Hey,” you answer softly.

“Hey, what's up?” It's so good to hear his voice. Soothing and just as calming as you remember. It's been ages since he's called. You always text, and even then with his hectic schedule he doesn't always have time to chat.

“Nothing. Just bringing stuff to the house.”

“Oh you did get it! The documents were in your name then?”

“Yep.” You lay back on the unmade bed and stare at the fan overhead turning lazily on low. “Everything is in my name. The house, the car, I took everything.”

“I still can't believe Evan did that to you. I wish I could beat his ass.”  

“Yeah I know. God, can you believe I actually thought he loved me? What a joke that was.”

Shawn sighs and the two of you remain in silence for a while. “He really just wanted you for the money huh?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle sadly. “Glad I figured that out. How he managed to skate by for two years without letting me know he was collecting disability on a fake injury and using most of it to buy alcohol, I will never know.”

“Disgusting. Well I was just calling to check on you. I know it's been a few months and we've talked a few times but I just wanted to make sure you're good.”

“I'm figuring it out. Thanks for calling though.”

“Of course, don't feel bad about calling me if you need me. I'm in town.”

“I'll keep it in mind, but anyway, I'll talk to you later okay?”

“Can I stop by at the end of the week?”

“Sure. I'll be all settled in by then. You're actually home?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I'm home. Talk to you soon, later tater.”

You giggle and let the phone fall beside your head. Shawn always made you feel better. He was truly a gift from the Gods.

_________________________

“All moved in?” Shawn asks as he walks into the house and looks around. “Looks great.”

“Yep.”

“You don't sound thrilled.”

“I'm not. It's so big and empty without anyone here. I should have just sold the place, but I had all the furniture already and I even picked out the counter tops. God. This shit blows.”

“Honestly I can relate to the lonely house feeling. It's pretty garbage, so I always go out or have company.” Shawn flops on the couch and sighs. “I can stay over a few days if you want?”

“I don't know. Aren't you worried about getting followed here?”

Shawn shrugs. “Paps don't bug me in Toronto unless I'm at the airport. I'm not too worried, besides it's a semi private community.”

You sit next to him and he rubs his hand up your back. “I guess it'd be nice to have someone familiar around for a few days.”

“It's a deal then. I'll crash on your couch and you can have a piece of mind. We can be alone together.”

You lean over against his shoulder and he rubs your head. You really missed having him around all the time like it was back in high school. Between you going to college and then graduating to his touring and making a career as an entertainer, you just hardly had time for each other anymore. Somehow that felt like it was going to change.

_________________________

Monday morning. It's just after five when you get up and get ready for work, opting for a messy ponytail and your pink scrubs. Working as a nurse in a children's hospital was nice, no one cared if you looked a little tired, and the kids loved your bright colored scrubs. It was your dream job and you honestly couldn't be happier than you were the last year and a half on the staff at Clarkson Children's Hospital. Well, happy with the exception of your ex fiance but that was in the past now. You were done with it, refused to let it haunt you.

The kitchen is dark and you flip on the light just to be startled half to death by the form of a nearly naked man in just his boxers with his back to you. In an instant you register that it's Shawn and you should definitely not throw the nearest object at him.

“Morning,” he chuckles, a cereal bowl clattering in the sink as he turns to face you.

“You scared me.” You can't help the way your eyes travel down his chest and over his dark boxers. He is... impeccable. You are in awe of his body, and honestly you can't remember seeing it this close since you were teenagers at the pool, and even then he made your stomach flip flop. “Why are you awake?”

“Couldn't sleep.”

“You can sleep in my bed. I mean, like, if it's the couch that kept you awake.”

Shawn chuckles and pushes off the counter. He saunters over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. “It's not the couch that's keeping me awake. But thank you for the offer.”

“Oh...okay.”

He kisses your cheek and wishes you a good day, saying something about being home late tonight and that he doesn't want you to wait up. You will though. You won't be able to sleep without him there.

_________________________

A few days pass and you are appreciative of Shawn being at the house with you but it doesn't seem to be enough. It seems like no matter what you do, you can't shake the fact that Evan was supposed to be in that house with you. That he was the one who picked out the furniture with you. Everything reminded you of him and it was getting under your skin like crazy.

You end up getting sent home on Friday because you're so exhausted, having not been sleeping hardly at all. Your best friend and coworker Liz won't have you passing out at the nurses station every ten minutes, so she offers to cover your shift for the rest of the day and Saturday.

It's Friday night and you're not feeling the least bit tired anymore. You aren't sure what to do because you don't want to just leave, you have nowhere to go. And frankly you don't want to leave your bedroom because everything outside of it reminds you of Evan.

“Anybody home?” Shawn asks loudly from outside the bedroom, getting closer. “Hello?”

“I'm here!”

Shawn opens the door and peeks his head in. “Hey, how are you doing? Did you come home sick or something?”

“No. I was just tired.”

“...and they let you go home?”

You shrug.

“No no no. What's wrong?”

“I haven't been sleeping well.”

Shawn comes in and flops on the bed. “You wanna get outta here? The high school is having an open house, we can go for a walk down memory lane?”

“I dunno. You wanna?”

“Yeah!” Shawn grabs your hands and pulls you up to sit with him. “We can see if the scuff on the wall is there from when I fell down the stairs and broke my arm.”

“Oh my God that was gruesome.”

“Yeah I know. Let's go, come on.”

Half an hour later and the two of you are strolling into the lobby of the high school. There are parents and teens everywhere, wandering from classroom to classroom. You and Shawn walk toward the back stairs where Shawn broke his arm.

“They painted and fixed it,” Shawn groans, fingers smoothing over the place where the scuffed dent from his head hitting the wall used to be. “Lame.”

“You're so weird. Oh my God, remember my junior year locker? It was next to the men's bathroom and I was always getting investigated for having cigarettes because the guys who smoked in the bathroom always stuck the butts in my locker door.”

“Yeah!” Shawn grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs and down a hall to your old locker.

“God it still stinks.” You put your hand on the blue locker and shake your head. “Remember when we used to all wait here before classes started in the morning because it was closest to the vending machine down there?”

Shawn looks back at the vending machine that provided many a quick breakfast. “Yeah, I ate so many fruit snacks from that thing.” He turns back, leaning on his shoulder against the locker doorway. “I remember the first time I kissed you here too.”

“Oh, yeah. That was my first kiss.”

“What? I never knew that.”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “God I had such a crush on you after that.”

“Oh yeah? That why you made out with me at homecoming that year?”

You flush and look down, embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. “I didn't make out with you at homecoming.”

“Yeah you did?”

“No that was Sarah Linskey. You thought it was me?” You can't believe he really didn't know. All these years and he thought that was you.

Shawn pushes off the locker and folds his arms over his chest. “I definitely thought it was you. Damn, no wonder you were so cold to me that next week. I had no idea.”

“Wait, are you saying you wanted to make out with me? Not Sarah?”

“Yeah why wouldn't I have wanted to? I thought maybe I was really bad at kissing or something and that's why you never talked about it again and cold shouldered me.” He runs a hand over his hair a laughs, taking a few steps back. “We never got together because of a misunderstanding. Ain't that something.”

“We were so stupid. God, if we would have just  talked to each other we could have been together.”

“Maybe it wasn't the right time.”

“You're right.”

Shawn throws his arms around your shoulders and tugs you against his side. “Let's get out of here. I'm tired of memory lane. We can grab some fries and go home.”

_________________________

Saturday. Shawn wakes you up with plans for a housewarming party tomorrow. You're not usually one for parties let alone hosting them, but it might help you get out of this funk to have all your friends around you. Besides, you really need to get your life back to normal.

All day you plan things out with Shawn, from food to music to setting up a volleyball net out back. He is bound and determined to get you settled and comfortable in the house.

Shawn walks in that evening with a bag of food for tomorrow's party and you're leaning against the counter, staring at the ring Evan had given you when he proposed. It was the only thing you had left of him.

“Hey you,” Shawn says to get your attention.

“Hey.”

“What's wrong? You look confused or something.”

You watch as he unpacks cheese and meat and a variety of vegetables. You're not sure what to say, how to explain that you don't know what to do with the ring.

“Talk to me.”

“Do you think I should keep it?”

“What?”

You push the ring toward him and he steps over to the island to see what it is.

“Is that the ring from Evan?”

“Yeah. It was expensive probably, I just..don't know what to do with it.”

Shawn picks it up and turns it over in his fingers. It looks so small compared to his hands. “Sell it?”

“But...”

“No buts. Sell it or throw it out. Get rid of it. The damn thing is haunting you with the energy it has from him gifting it to you. Let it go and let yourself be free.”

You grab it off the counter as Shawn turns away. “You really think it's that bad?”

Shawn stuffs the plastic bags from the groceries into a bucket under the sink and stands back up to lean on the counter opposite you. “I don't think so, I know so. That thing is bad.”

“It's just a ring though. Just metal and rocks.”

Shawn comes around and takes the ring from your hand. He walks back around to the sink and drops it in the trash compactor.

“Shawn! NO!”

He reaches over and flips the little switch behind the sink and the blades come to life, whirring and clanking the ring around loudly until it stops and you assume it's fallen into the disposal bin. “It's gone. I took care of it. No more ring. No more Evan.”

You stand there, staring at him in complete shock. Part of you hurts and is angry he just did that, but part of you feels relieved that it's gone. You don't even know what to say. Thank you? Fuck you?

“Stop thinking about him. You're never going to get over this if you keep letting everything remind you of him.”

You look down and shake your head. “You're right. I need to stop caring. I don't think I ever really wanted to marry him anyway. I think I just said yes because I was happy enough and he was alright.”

“You don't have to do that. It's okay if you're hurting, you don't have to marginalize your relationship with him or see just the negative to get over it.”

“I was so stupid.”

Shawn comes around and cups your cheeks and turns your face up to look at him. “No you are not stupid. You had a bad experience and he didn't turn out to be who you thought he was. At least you found out before it was too late, before things got too out of hand. It's okay you can be upset and angry and you're allowed to feel heartbroken, but you can't let it control your life.”

Tears burn your eyes and you let out a soft sob, eyes searching Shawn's for comfort. Of course you had cried and of course you were angry about the fall out with Evan. But it has been months now and shortly after it happened you started boxing it up, shoving those emotions in the dark cubby holes in your mind. Repressing just to get through work and buying the house and everything, but now the cubbies are too full and they're starting to spill out.

“It's okay,” Shawn whispers, thumbs swiping away tears. “I'm here.”

“You don't have to deal with this. It's not your problem. You have your life and stuff. Go be a rockstar.”

“You know my family and friends come first. Besides, I'm just working on some tracks here at home. I'm on a break for a while.”

“Yeah...well... whatever.”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead. “Yeah whatever yourself. Go get cleaned up. I need help preparing all this food for the party tomorrow.”

“I don't even wanna throw a party anymore.”

“We already invited everyone. Please?”

You roll your eyes at his big brown eyed puppy dog look with his lip poked out and everything. He always got his way. Damn him for making you soft. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and sniff a little. “Fine, fine. I'll go change and get cleaned up. Don't burn the place down.”

_________________________

The clock on your night stand reads a quarter past two in the morning. You can't sleep. That much is obvious. Your mind is racing, jumping from thought to thought as you scroll down your Facebook feed. What if Evan was the best you could do? What if you don't find anyone else who will want you? How do you explain to your friends that Shawn lives with you? Is Shawn living with you? Round and round the thoughts go, keeping you tossing and turning for ages. One thought leads to another and another and eventually you're lying there remembering how Evan called you a selfish bitch. How he said he loved you, that he was the best you could get. How you owed him. You roll over and your phone slides off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor.

Your chest tightens up and you let out a sob. Why couldn't you just forget? Why couldn't this all just go away? He left you so broken it wasn't fair. He was probably out there scamming some other girl by now.

A knock on your door makes your heart stop. For a moment you're terrified that on the other side is Evan. For a split second you think he is back and you think you're going to be sick. Until a voice comes through. A soft, kind, soothing voice. It's Shawn.

“Hey, are you awake?” He asks, opening the door just enough to get his head in. “I just came up to check on you, I heard something fall.”

“It's was my phone,” you croak, desperately trying not to sound upset.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Would you be mad at me if I came in anyway?”

You remain silent. He could come in if he wanted. It wasn't like he didn't already know you were crying, you were doing a shit job of hiding it.

The bed sinks beside you and you roll towards him a bit. His hand comes down on your shoulder, pulling you over to look at him. The room is dark, not pitch black but dark enough he shouldn't be able to make out your puffy eyes and red nose.

“Do you want me to sleep with you?”

Very good question. Did you? Would it help? Would it somehow make your brain slow down enough to sleep, or would it get worse because it would switch to thoughts of Shawn? There was no right answer. You have no idea what to do right now.

“I don't know. Maybe.”

Shawn shifts around until he is under the blankets, warm body aligned with yours. His arm snakes around your chest and pulls you back against him. He is a pillar of comfort, of warmth and safety. His cologne alone is enough to make you relax your shoulders you didn't know you were holding so tightly.

“Is this okay?” his voice is like a purr, vibrating through your back as he speaks low and into your hair. “I know when I'm overwhelmed it helps to have someone to hold onto.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I don't mind staying until you're asleep.”

“Can you stay even after I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your head. “You're welcome. Go to sleep.”

_________________________

The housewarming party is in full swing when you find yourself in the bathroom an hour in, clutching the sink with both hands, staring at your reflection. No one had asked about Evan yet. Maybe they wouldn't, maybe everyone knew he was a sore subject.

“In the drawer by the fridge!” Shawn calls out in answer to something someone has asked and you hear him getting closer, footsteps loud on the wood floor.

You flush the toilet for show and open the door just as Shawn approaches it. “Looking for me?”

“How'd you know?” He smiles.

“I just knew.”

Shawn grabs your hand, tugging you closer. “Come on let's go get drinks.”

The two of you walk into the kitchen and your friend Liz eyeballs you like you've got egg on your face. You shrug at her, sending a look of “What? Something wrong?” To which she does a little head shake and turns back to opening a bottle of wine. You knew she was up to something.

The next few hours go great. Everyone has a good time, drinking, eating, chit chatting about the house and how work is going for you. No one brings up Evan. Not once. It's perfect, and you think maybe Shawn was on to something when he said this would help you get out of your head about him. It was definitely helping, making memories in the house that didn't involve him.

The night winds down and you find yourself a little drunker than you mean to be. You're on the deck and Shawn is sitting on the swinging bench, your mutual friend from high school, Brian, beside him. They're talking about something to do with recording that you aren't really making out. The two deck chairs are taken and you're about to go back inside when Shawn catches your hand with his as you pass him to go through the sliding door.

“Yeah?” You ask and he just smiles warmly, cheeks rosy. He's drunk too.

“Where ya going?”

“Inside. There's nowhere to sit out here.”

Shawn leans back and pats his leg. “You can sit with me?”

“You don't mind?”

“Nah. Come on, Brian and I were just talking about the studio I want to have one day so I can just record anytime I like.”

You take a seat on his lap and the bench swings out a bit, making you fall back into his chest. He puts his arm around your middle and situates you so you can lean against him. It's intimate. Far more than you think you've ever been with Shawn, but it was comfortable.

Brian pauses for a moment, discussion on hold as he watches you get comfortable. He picks right back up though, saying how a studio would require a house to set up in if Shawn wanted to do it in comfort. The two talk a while longer and you find yourself passing out against Shawn's shoulder.

“You wanna go to bed?” He asks softly against your ear.

You nod.

“Alright.” Shawn tightens his grip around your waist. “Brian, I think it's time to head out.”

Brian gets up, going and bumping the arms of the two guys over on the deck chairs. They get the hint and the three of them head for the door to inside. You and Shawn follow close, his hand on your back as you see them out of the house with thank you's and see you soon's.

“You coming Shawn?” Brian asks, last to leave as he stands in the doorway.

“Nah, I'm gonna stay and help clean up a little.”

Brain raises his eyebrows and you yawn. “Wanna grab lunch tomorrow?”

Shawn grabs the door and starts to close it. “Maybe. See you later dude.”

The moment the door is closed and Shawn flips the lock, you're wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face into his back, eyes heavy. “Thank you for setting this up. I had a lot of fun.”

“Of course. Now come on, you're tired.” He turns around and puts his arms around you, walking you back to the base of the stairs.

“Carry me?”

“Really?” He chuckles, looking down at you with his hands on your hips. “I'm not sure I should.”

“Come on. You can do it.” You put your arms on his biceps and squeeze gently with a giggle. “Big...so...big.”

Shawn leans down and kisses your cheek before whispering in your ear, “You're really drunk.”

“You are too.”

“Yes,” he crowds against you, hands squeezing your hips. “And I can't carry you right now or I might fall. So please walk upstairs with me.”

“Will you stay?”

“The night?”

“In my bed.”

Shawn hugs you close, hand across your back and one in your hair. “As long as you want me to. I will.”

_________________________

“When did you and Shawn start dating?”

“What?” You ask, nearly inhaling your iced coffee from the cafeteria. “Excuse me?”

Liz puts her hands on her hips and stares you down across the nurses station. “He's staying with you isn't he?”

“I-I uh...”

“Oh please, just admit it. The man knows where your wine opener is, his boxers are in the bathroom and he has a razor in the sink cup. You're staying together.”

“It's not like that.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really. He's just staying with me while I get acclimated to the new house.”

“Yeah, sure. You moved in like a month ago.”

You grab a patient clipboard and get up to go check on them since it's nearly noon. “Liz, please. The moment something is going on between me and Shawn, you'd be the first person I tell.”

“You better. That man is fine with a capital F, not to mention rich as hell and insanely talented. God, you'd be dating a rockstar.”

You roll your eyes. “He is still just Shawn. He's the same guy who puked spaghetti down my shirt in freshman year. Rockstar or not.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah. Now, I'm going to check on Marie and get her meds started for the afternoon. And you are going to....”

Liz huffs, crossing her arms and looking annoyed. “And I'm going to drop the subject of Shawn and you.”

“Thanks Liz,” you sing sing as you walk down the hall towards room 156 with a little wave.

_________________________

A few days pass and you and Shawn get even more comfortable with each other. Liz's words are really getting in your head though. What was this? Why didn't Shawn go home? You and Shawn were sleeping together, making each other breakfast, sharing laundry, doing everything a couple does. But you're not a couple. Are you?

You walk in the house and hear someone speaking to Shawn in the kitchen. Your first thought is that he has Brian over or maybe even his manager Andrew. You'd be surprised because he didn't seem to ever have anyone over, it wasn't his place after all.

“Yeah, so the bill will include the parts and labor. Just sign the bottom line and I can take a check or card.”

You round the corner and Shawn is standing there with a man in a blue uniform. The bag of tools on the counter says Manelle Repair. What on Earth was broken? You can't recall a problem with the sink or the oven or anything.

“Hey,” Shawn says softly, looking up from the bill of service. “The garbage disposal was broke.”

“A ring!” The repairman laughs. “Can you believe that?”

“Oh...wow,” you eye Shawn who looks guilty. “Wonder how that got there.”

“Dunno, could have been there when you moved in and just got lodged. No worries, I fixed the problem. Your husband here is just finishing up.”

You nearly choke on your own tongue. Husband. Shawn. Your husband. That was rich. “Oh he's not-”

“Yes I am paying for it.” Shawn interrupts loudly, cutting you off and handing the bill over to the repairman with his credit card. The man slides it on a device plugged into his phone. “I promised I would.”

You eye him, skeptical as to why he wouldn't let you correct the repairman's comment, but you remain silent. You follow the two men to the door and Shawn thanks the guy for coming out so soon before turning to you with the guiltiest smile you have ever seen.  

“Don't be mad, it's fixed. Don't worry.”

“You broke the garbage disposal.”

“And I paid for it. It's fine.”

You cross your arms. “Where's the ring?”

“It's gone.”

“Liar.  Shawn tell me where it is.”

Shawn reaches into his pocket and holds out the ring in his palm. It's practically unscathed from it's trip through the disposal. “I didn't want you fretting over it. I was just going to toss it when I went to the studio next. You've been doing so well lately, I didn't want you to have a reminder again.”

“It's mine. I'll get rid of it.” You go to take it off his hand and he curls his fingers into yours. “Shawn...please.”

“Can we get rid of it right now?”

“How?”

“We can go to the park on Leavenworth street. Remember the one we used to go to after school and hang out?”

“Where I lost my shoe in the lake. Yeah...yeah! I can throw it in the lake!”

Shawn releases your hand and you take the ring. “I'll drive?”

“Let's go.”

Almost half an hour later and you're back in your hometown. It's like nothing has changed since you left. Granted it's been just a few years, the place brought back a sense of nostalgia. You remember riding bikes to each other's houses and to the park after school because neither of you had a car. Sneaking out to go to Shawn's house on weeknights to get away from your parents for just a little while. Walking to the donut shop for dollar a dozen donut holes on Wednesdays. It felt so good to be home.

The park looks the same too. The old merry-go-round is just as worn and faded in color as you remember. The swings are still there, the rocking dinosaur with the goofy face. Really the only difference is that the slide is gone, probably rusted apart finally. You and Shawn walk toward the edge of the small man made lake where the ducks lived. It's quiet, just after five in the evening. There isn't any kids out playing but then again there wasn't a lot of kids around any more. The sun is going down slowly, a burning ball of orange light dipping over the horizon. It's beautiful. Like reliving a moment from your childhood.

Shawn bumps his hand against yours. You ignore it the first time, thinking it's an accident. He does it again and you let him slide his rough calloused fingers between yours. His hand feels so big compared to yours, and so incredibly warm.  

“Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him as the two of you approach the retaining wall along the water's edge. “Of course. What's up?”

“Do you think we would make a good couple?”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Brian the other day, after the party. He said he thought we were together and it got me thinking. Maybe the one I've been searching for my whole life has been right under my nose.”

“Liz said the same thing after the party. She noticed you had been staying, your stuff was around the house.”

“Andrew has been up my ass about not staying at the apartment. I've been telling him that I've been going back home to my parents. He's going to catch on. I should probably go home soon huh? You've gotten used to the house by now.”

You squeeze his hand in yours. “I've gotten used to the company too, and yes, I think we would make a good couple. Y'know I was thinking... I don't use the basement, and it's soundproof from the last owners using it as a theater room.”

“Uh huh?”

“If you wanted to record down there, like put some equipment in and a booth. I think it would be a good idea.”

Shawn takes a seat on the retaining wall and you do to, sitting close enough your thighs are you snug side by side. “You realize I'd never leave your house if I did that.”

You shrug. “I don't care. It would get Andrew off your back, and give me company. Besides, I love when you are in your element. There's something incredibly attractive about watching you make music. It's truly an experience.”

He presses his lips to your temple in a tender kiss and leans his head against yours. “We’ll see.”

You fish the ring out of your pocket and turn it over in your fingers, the setting sun glinting off it's embedded jewels. They probably aren't even real now that you think about it. Evan didn't have any money, let alone any to spend on something this beautiful. He probably paid twenty dollars online for this thing. Son of a bitch.

“I guess we should get rid of this.”

“It's all you.”

You pull your arm back and send the ring sailing out over the water. It lands with a little plop several feet away. There was no getting it back now. No repairman to pull it out of the trash. No pawn shop to resell it so you might possibly see it again one day on someone's finger. No. It was gone. Non existent as your relationship with Evan. Good riddance.

“How’s it feel?”

“Good. Liberating.” You smile, looking over at him and he looks so warm in the evening glow. Breathtaking really.

He tilts your chin up with his fingers and leans in. Just like that he's kissing you. Suddenly you're sixteen again and you're standing outside of the English hall at school. Your locker is behind you, cold against your back. There are kids everywhere waiting for class to start. Shawn's there, leaning against the lockers with one arm, telling you that he needs help in Math if you're free. The next thing you know he's bumped against you, catching himself with his arm against the lockers, caging you in as his lips crash against yours. It's an accident, obviously, but he lingers and so do you. Just like that your first kiss was stolen from you, but at least it was by the one person who deserved it.

“You okay?” Shawn asks lowly, eyes locked into yours.

You realize that you've just been sitting there like a statue while replaying the past in your head. “Do it again.”

He chuckles and leans back in, soft lips on yours. His hand finds your hair, guiding your mouth against his as he deepens the kiss. It's a gentle exchange and one you're much more present for this time around. He pulls back with smile and your lips are a little damp. It's been forever since you've been properly kissed.

“I've wanted to do that for so long.”

“I think I've wanted that for even longer.”

_________________________

You're pretty sure you're in hell after that kiss with Shawn. The next day the two of you were woken up to his phone ringing off the nightstand. Quite literally vibrating on to the floor and crashing, scaring the crap out of both of you. It was Andrew, his manager. Apparently you weren't as alone as you thought at the park.

Shawn lies through his teeth in the sleepiest voice ever as he gets berated for not being home, lying about where he's been going, and not telling Andrew about you. Shawn tries his hardest to protect you, to say you were a friend that it was a spur of the moment kiss. That he has been at his parents. He's desperately trying to get you out of the mix.

Half an hour later and you're laying in bed alone. Shawn had gotten up and got dressed while still on the phone with Andrew. He needed to leave asap to get to his apartment before Andrew showed up and called him on his lies. You roll over, his side of the bed smells like his cologne and shampoo. You breathe deep, heart full of love as you crave his touch.

Your front door bell rings, snapping you out of your sleepy fantasies. You get up and make your way down there, wondering who would be stopping by on a Thursday morning. You open the door and find your sister standing there with a suitcase.

“Jennifer? What are you doing here?”

“I'm home for a few days and I wanted to come see you!” She pulls the screen door open and puts her arms around you. “I have a few days before I go to Alaska and I figured I'd come see my baby sister in her new house.”

You wrap your arm around her and return the hug. “You're going to Alaska next? Why?”

“Work. I guess they need a good IT tech up there at the air base.” Jen hauls her bag in past you and pushes it against the stairwell bannister. “So, how's the house?”

“It's great. A little empty, but it's all mine.” You shut the door and wonder how the hell you were going to explain Shawn to her. Of course he wasn't there now, but he would be back. You could always tell him not to come home but he would probably need his guitar and...his wallet...that's sitting on your island counter.

Jennifer walks around the living room. “It's very much your style. I love it. Is the couch comfortable?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Oh...well...I was hoping I could crash here tonight before going to mom and dad's place. They're out of town until tomorrow for that car show they go to every year.”

Of course she wanted to stay over. Nothing could be easy in your life, could it? If Shawn wasn't going to be coming back you wouldn't be so worried, but the thing is he was going to have to. And when he did Jennifer would see him and start asking questions. Questions that would lead to her running her big mouth. You love your sister to death, you do, but this was one thing you'd like to tell her on your own terms.

“I'm not sure I'm ready for visitors yet.”

“You just had a housewarming party?”

“Yeah...but they didn't stay over. I'm still getting used to the place and being alo-”

The front door opens and Shawn walks in, freezing when he sees your sister standing opposite you. He looks to Jennifer, then to you, and back to Jennifer. “Hello?”

“What's going on here?” Jennifer laughs, pointing between the two of you.

“I left my wallet?”

“At nine in the morning?” Jennifer looks at her watch and shakes her head. “You have got to be kidding me. You've been hooking up with Shawn?!”

You feel you self deflate. So much for hiding it now. So much for your own terms. “Jen, I need you to chill out. We are not hooking up. He just came over and helped me move some stuff last night.”

“Uh huh.”

Shawn crosses the living room and goes to the attached kitchen to grab his wallet. “I'll call you later,” he chuckles nervously as he heads back for the door.

“Yeah, thanks.” You wave and he ducks out, leaving you with Jennifer once again. She looks less than sold on your lie and you know she's going to harass you into giving her all the details.

_________________________

Around two in the morning Shawn comes back. You only know this because he makes a racket taking his shoe off in the corner. You sit up, alarmed as you turn on the bedside lamp. Before you is a half dressed Shawn, holding your necklace stand and looking guilty.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers as he sets your stand down and picks up a few other things he knocked off. “I tripped on your heels.”

“What are you doing here?” You seethe, and he crawls into the bed. “I told you not to come back tonight.”

Shawn flops down beside you, arm going to your waist. “I couldn't sleep at the apartment. I figured if I snuck in then it'd be fine. I'll just sneak out in the morning.”

You groan. “Shawn.”

He leans over and cups your face, turning your face towards him. “Please don't be mad at me.”

You stare at his puppy dog eyes, so brown and golden and you can't be mad. Not over this. You touch his jaw and kiss his nose. “You better not get caught by Jen. It took everything in me today to convince her there was nothing going on between us.”

“But isn't there something going on? I know we haven't discussed it or anything...but y'know.”

“Not now. It's almost four in the morning, go to sleep.”

Shawn leans in and kisses your forehead, humming in agreement. He snuggles against you, tucking you into his chest and holding you tight. You never want to sleep without him again, and you might not have to.

_________________________

Shawn is gone in the morning. It's just after seven when you wake up to the empty bed. He only had a few hours sleep, so you aren't sure how he was functioning but he obviously managed to get out of the house. You roll over and rub your hand over the imprint he's left in the bed. Sheets wrinkled and pillows divited, remains of the soft giant who laid there cuddling you through the night. It's still a little warm, you assume he must have left fairly recently. He had even folded the blanket back over how you liked, preserving the heat from his body under the covers for you.

The smell of bacon gets your sense going, bringing you to full alertness. Funny. You don't remember buying bacon this last week. You get up, feet hitting the cold wood floor as you search for your slippers and make your way downstairs to find out who had bacon.

The moment you round the staircase you see Jen in the kitchen, moving back and forth from the counter to the island, cooking up a breakfast you are sure would be too much for the two of you. She always loved to cook, and she was very good at it. Who ever she settled down with one day would be a very lucky person.

“Morning,” Jen cheers from the stove as you walk in and grab a cup of coffee. “Wanna talk to you.”

A cold chill of dread runs throughout your body as your fingers close around the hand of the coffee pot. You don't want to talk to her anymore, not about anything that wasn't her life or yours not involving Shawn. Her grilling of you last night was enough to break a hardened criminal. Thankfully she finally relented a while after dinner and you were able to get sleep in peace. Besides, you had to work at nine, you didn't have time to do much besides eat, shower and get ready.

“Can we talk later? I have to get ready for work.”

“You have time to eat.” Jen turns and dumps an omelette onto a plate with some canned corned beef hash you had in the cupboard. That made sense of the bacon like smell. You were saving that can, it was one of those weird things you liked on occasion. She pushes the plate toward you insistently.  “I'll do most of the talking anyway.”

“Fine.” You take a seat and start eating while nursing your hot coffee. “What is it?”

“Does Evan have keys to the house?”

“What?”

“Does Evan have keys?”

“God no. I signed on the house, it's my place. He never got a key. Why?”

Jen cracks a few eggs into the skillet she's working with and dumps some vegetables from a cutting board into it as well. “I thought I heard someone come in last night. I was on the couch, so obviously my back was to the door and everything. But I swear I wasn't dreaming.”

She had heard Shawn. Christ could he have been any louder? Real subtle Mendes. Good job. “Well I'm the only one with keys. You must have been hearing things.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes. He never even touched the keys to this house.” You finish off your eggs and dump the plate into the sink. “You're losing it sis. Almost thirty and you've already done lost your mind.”

Jen hip checks you and you laugh. “That's not nice. You'll be my age before you know it. Now go get ready for work. I'm gonna make you some food to keep in the freezer.”

“You don't have to do that. I can cook.”

“Yeah but you're a nurse, I know when you get home you're exhausted. Go. Let me do something nice for you.”

You roll your eyes and head to your room to get ready. Somehow the idea of leaving Jen alone in your house all day was uneasy. You know Shawn's stuff is all over, hell, Liz noticed his boxers in the bathroom and his razor at the housewarming party. There was no way there wasn't evidence of Shawn everywhere. You can't worry about that now, you have to get to work.

_________________________

Shockingly Jen seems to leave the subject of you and Shawn alone. When you get home, an hour late because of an emergency on your floor, you walk in and collapse onto the couch. Jen offers you dinner, saying how your parents were back in town and she was going to go see them before she headed out of state again. Things are normal. Either she's found out Shawn is there semi regularly and she is leaving you to your privacy. Or she hasn't found any evidence, unlikely as it may be, and she is convinced of your lies that he was just helping you out a few times. Whatever it is, you're grateful and see her off at her car with a tired smile, a hug, and best wishes in Alaska.

Shawn comes back that night, after you texted him the all clear, and lets himself in to find you on the couch in your pajamas a little after ten.

“You look cozy,” he smiles, stripping off his denim jacket and boots by the armchair adjacent to the couch.

“I'm exhausted. It was a very long day at work.”

“Yeah? I know you can't tell me much, but what happened?” He peels his shirt off to reveal a black tank top beneath it. You can't help but let your eyes wander over the expanse of his shoulders and chest, down to his slim waist. He is truly beautiful.

“There was an emergency medical evac for a kid on my floor.”

Shawn unbuckles his belt and slides it out of his jeans, tossing it by his jacket and shirt. You can't help the smile that turns up the corners of your mouth. “What?” He smirks playfully, tugging his tank top out of his jeans.

“I didn't know I was going to be treated to a strip tease tonight.”

He actually flushes. The dork. Twenty five and he still flushed like a teenager. Lord he was cute in the hottest most down to earth way.

“Is that what you want? A strip tease from me?” He saunters over, fingers tugging playfully at the button of his jeans. “I'll give you one if you like.”

“Shawn!” You laugh, kicking his thigh gently, shoving him back into the the armchair.

He lands with a little oomph before sprawling out, legs open, arms up behind his head. It reminds you of when he did the shoots for Lumio Vogue when he was nineteen. He's such a little shit.

“Maybe this is better,” he tugs his tank top up, showing off his lower stomach while rubbing a hand across his chest. “Is this doing it for you?”

You laugh, absolutely baulk at the man before you. “You're ridiculous! Quit posing and come watch my show with me.”

“Ahh, but baby don't you want me?” He says in the most outrageously horrible “I'm sexy and I know it” voice.

You roll your eyes and he drops the schtick, standing up and pushing his jeans down to kick them aside and join you on the couch. He flops down beside you, putting his feet up on the foot rest and tucking one between yours. He wraps an arm around you and leans his head on yours.

“What are we watching?”

“Kids baking championship.”

“Sounds good to me.” With that he pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and throws it over your laps. You snuggle against him and hit unmute as the show returns from commercial. You could get used to this.

_________________________

A week passes and you're so incredibly happy with Shawn. The two of you talk over coffee every morning, exchange “have a good day” kisses and just live domestically. You haven't discussed what you are. Neither of you want to bring it up and you almost wonder if it's fear of ruining whatever this is. As if giving it a label would shatter the illusion of a normal life together.

Shawn even started making plans for the basement, deciding to take you up on the offer to turn it into a a studio. He wants to get it all set up before telling Andrew about the place. Of course Andrew would have questions about your relationship, and maybe by then you would have a solid answer. You think maybe the studio would seal the deal for you two. Give you that push you needed.

It's Saturday night and you're fast asleep, having worked an early morning shift for Liz, you turned in early. Shawn didn't mind, he could sleep any time it seemed. The sound of pounding from somewhere below in the house wakes you up. It sounds like someone slamming a fist against your front door.

Shawn sits up and looks around, confused as you are by the sound. “What is that? Did we put on laundry before bed?”

“No. I did everything yesterday. That sounds like someone at the front door.” You pull the blankets back and walk around to the bedroom door to investigate.

Shawn stops you, a hand on your arm as he steps in front of you. “Let me check it out.”

“No! What if you get hurt?”

He cups your face and rubs his thumbs over your cheeks tenderly. “And what if you get hurt?”

“It's my h-”

The sound of the front door being kicked in startles you, making you yelp, eyes going to the closed door beside you. Someone was breaking into your house and you are pretty sure you're going to puke.

“Call the cops.” Shawn grabs his phone since it's on the dresser close by and hands it to you. “Stay as quiet as you can.”

You fumble with the phone, typing in his passcode wrong the first time. He opens the door and slips out, closing it quietly behind him much to your dismay. You open it back up enough to peek out, phone to your ear as it rings.

Shawn inches down the hall along the wall opposite to the top of the stairs. You can't believe he's being so stupid. What if the intruder was armed? What the hell was Shawn going to do?

The operator answers the phone and you give her your address and tell her you're pretty sure someone has broken into your home. She asks you to remain calm but your hands are sweating and you feel like you can't breathe.

Footsteps on the stairs makes your stomach drop. You go silent as the operator keeps asking questions, repeating herself over and over until you let out a little “uh huh” when she asks if you're still there. From your position you can see just past the top of the stairs as the intruder reaches the landing of the second floor.

The moment Shawn sees someone appear he swings, fist colliding with the side of the intruder's head and knocking him to the floor with a loud thump and groan. In a moment Shawn is on top of him, clearly larger as he twists the guys arms behind his back. The intruder doesn't fight back, you assume because he's been hit so hard he is reeling.

“Get my belt!”

You drop the phone on the dresser and grab Shawn's belt off the the laundry hamper, hurrying over and he ties up the guys hands, still sitting on his back. You flip the switch for the hall light and before you is a face you hoped to never seen again.

“Evan?! What the fuck?!”  The sound of sirens in the distance lets you know that help is on the way and you remember the phone on the dresser with the operator on the line still. Didn't matter. Help was coming anyway. “What are you doing here?”

“I want my ring back. I bought that, not you!” He's slurring his words and the closer you get you realize he reeks of alcohol. Big surprise. He probably wouldn't have the gall to break into your house sober.

“So you break into your ex's house? Why not try calling next time?” Shawn growls, tightening the belt around Evan's wrists as he lets out a groan of pain.

“Who the fuck are you?” He twists himself under Shawn enough to get a look at his face. “Oh for fucks sake. Really?”

“What? I'm not allowed to have a relationship after you?”

Evan scoffs. “No, now I know why you ditched me. How can I compare to a rockstar? Bet you were screwing him behind my back the whole time.”

“The only screwing going on in our relationship was you screwing me out of my money.”  You could just kick him square in the mouth. The fact that he had the audacity to try and pin the ending of your relationship on you was just something else.

“Fuck you! Give me my fucking ring!”

“It's gone pal.” Shawn hauls Evan up, one hand on his bound wrists the other in his hair. “We threw it in a lake.”

“You bitch!”

“Toronto Police!”

“Up stairs!” Shawn yells and three officers appear, guns drawn as they make their way up the stairs. The cops take over for Shawn, properly cuffing Evans hands so Shawn can step back and put his arm around you.

“Cheating little bitch, I want that fucking ring I know you didn't throw it in a lake!”

“Do you know this man?” One officer asks as the other jerks Evan toward the top of the stairs.

You explain the situation briefly as the officer takes Evan down the stairs and out the front door. The two of you follow the other cops downstairs and give your statements. The front door frame is splintered from being kicked in and you groan, knowing that would be couple bills to repair. You and Shawn thank the officers and start cleaning up the mess Evan made. The door closes fine but won't stay locked by any means. The two of you decide to shove the armchair against it and go back to bed, not that you would be getting much sleep anyway. 

Morning comes with a whole new shit storm. As if Evan's drunk breaking in entry wasn't enough, some pap must have been camping outside your house and took photos of the whole thing. At just after six in the morning Shawn was showing you headline on a celebrity news site. “Shawn Mendes home broken in to” “Shawn Mendes and mystery girl's wild night, it's not what you'd expect”. You assume the pap followed Shawn home from his apartment or the recording studio in light of rumors he was seeing someone after the kiss at the park a few weeks ago. You just can't deal with that and you go back to sleep, exhausted and not ready to face the world on two hours of sleep.

Within an hour of seeing those headlines, you're   waking up again because Shawn is in the living room with Andrew and Jake, his head of security, and there is an awful lot of yelling. You head down with caution, hearing Shawn's raised voice reverberating throughout the house makes your stomach flop.

“What is the problem with me trying to live a normal fucking life Andrew? I'm twenty five! Besides, she didn't sign up for this shit! Why should I have to drag her into any of it?!”

“Shawn you're famous. You've been famous since you were sixteen years old, I thought you would have sorted this out by now. Jake and I need to know what is going on in your life to keep you safe, this is a major breach in security.”

Shawn opens his mouth to say something in retaliation when he spots you standing on the last step gripping the banister post. “Shit, we woke you up didn't we?”

“What's going on?”

Andrew turns to you and sighs heavily. He thought his life was rough, what a joke. “Shawn has been staying here and not informing myself or Jake of his whereabouts, which is a major safety concern.”

Shawn walks over and puts his arms around you, kissing your cheek. “I'll deal with this. You can go back to bed,” he whispers softly.

“You're serious about her?” Jake asks and Shawn looks over at him. “Don't you want to keep her safe?”

“Of course I do.” Shawn hugs you against his chest and you lay your cheek against him. “And yes, I'm very serious about her.”

“Shawn, Jake and I don't want to take away your privacy. We just want to make sure you are safe, both of you.”

You look up at Shawn and he just sighs. “He's right. We should see about getting an alarm system and stuff.”

“Are you going to be living here? How long has this been going on?” Jake asks Shawn.

Andrew sighs heavily. “Months, I can tell you that. I just haven't been able to find out where he's been going.”

“Listen guys, I'd really like to stay here. We're setting up a recording studio in the basement. I'm thinking about getting rid of the apartment and I've already talked to my mom about helping put it back on the market.”

“I just don't understand why you've been hiding all of this from us. It's fine if you want to move or you're seeing someone. I know you want to live a normal life but you gotta let me know man.” Andrew looks around the living room. He shakes his head. “I'm glad you've found a place and someone to settle down with. I just want to make sure this place is safe and private for you. We've had our share of problems over the years with the apartment and I'd hate to have fan and stalkers show up here to your home. I need you in one primary location. Either here or your apartment.”

“Here. I am staying here.” Shawn leans back to look down at you. “If that's okay with you?”

“Why wouldn't it be? I don't know what I'd do without you here.”

“Good.” He leans down and kisses your lips quickly.

“It's settled then. Jake will be out with a team to set up a security system and check out the community security.” Andrew heads for the door. “I'll see you later Shawn. Don't forget the phone interview with GQ tonight.” Jake follows Andrew out and the two of you are left alone.

Shawn puts his arms around you, walking you back against the stairs. “Y'know, you've stolen my whole heart and I don't want to ever leave.” He reaches up and twirls a piece of your hair around. “I know we haven't talked about it entirely...but I love you. I love you so much and I have wanted to say it since the day I kissed you for the first time.”

Your heart clenches and you feel like you can't breathe. How dare he say the first I love you and seal the deal on whatever this was out of the blue like this. But it was time. The two of you were basically married from the first day he slept on your couch, and you couldn't deny that you felt the same way after the kiss when you were sixteen. There was absolutely no denying it, you've been in love with him forever.

“I love you too. I think I always have. Maybe I was never meant to marry Evan, because I was supposed to be with you.”

“Fate is a funny thing. But we're here now,” he smiles big and leans his forehead on yours. “And I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I never want to stop saying it.”

“Then don't.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I” he kisses you again, “love” another kiss, “you.”

You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you and you wrap your arms around his neck, just smiling back at him with your heads together. Things worked out sometimes, whether it be fate, luck or something far greater, you don't care. Shawn was yours and you were his.

The end.

_________________________

Major Shoutout to @shawnm521 without the two of us bouncing ideas around one day, this probably never would have existed.

Thank you so much for reading! You're all amazing and I appreciate every ounce of support I receive on my writing. Please reblog and share this fic if you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think as well, I absolutely live to read your comments, reaction gifs, asks and messages.

Thank you so much to everyone who reads my work. ❤️❤️❤️

[doc-pickles]

it’s nothing funny just to talk (p. 1)

What happens when you text that random number graffitied on a bathroom stall in your favorite bar? Jo Wilson is about to find out. - In which Bar Princess and Doctor Evil Spawn meet via text.

More Jolex on your timeline because y’all seemed to love what I posted before! Also I’ve posted this whole piece on AO3 as well so it might look familiar.  

this idea came to me in a fever dream and i am not sorry that y'all have to deal with it. 99% of this fic will be in "texting" format, so be prepared for that. 

Jo is regular Alex is italics

Saturday 11:04 PM

heeeeey is thiss doctor evil?

I gotta say ur phone sex namee needs sum weerk

u soud like a comic book village 

fuck

village

VILLAIN

Who the hell is this? And how did you get my number? 

i’m just a girl at thee bar!!!! 

Joe’s Bar?

noooooo

i’m at enerlad city bar

You didn’t answer my question. 

u asked a quesitoon?

whata was it?

i’m goos at takifjg tests 

How’d you get my number?

it qas in the bathrooom!!!

it said “for a good tiem txt dr evil spawne” 

so I did

I am ready to havee fun

You’re drunk, obviously, and I’m going to have to kill Cristina for putting my number up. 

ooooooh is thatt ur girleifnd?

hirlefiend 

girlfriend**

Wow you’re really gone. And hell no, she’s my roommate. One of them. 

ooooh how many do u hav

roomees not girlfriends 

Three. Two girls and a dude. 

intereeesting...

well it’s tome for fireball shoots

steph is yeeling at me 4 txting too much

goodbey doctor eviel apawn!!

Oh lord. Tell Steph you need water. Or an IV. 

I’ve got her. she’s throwing up on her shoes. thanks doctor. - steph

  Sunday 10:11 AM

You know you’re pretty funny, Bar Girl. 

jesus christ what fucking time is it?! 

10 AM

I’m assuming you have a massive hangover. 

hold on I can’t hear you over the sound of me vomiting

TMI as the kids say these days. 

what’re you a grandpa or something?? 

No I just don’t know how to use text lingo. Except WTF. I know that one very well. 

quick question

who the fuck are you?

Dr. Evil Spawn. You found my name graffitied in the bathroom of Emerald City Bar. 

holy shit

I thought I dreamed that... WHAT THE FUCK

Nope. I’m real. 

holy shit i’m so sorry

my texts were so annoying

Who hurt you? I mean you were shitfaced, I’m assuming someone broke your heart into tiny pieces. 

the opposite actually, I was at a bachelorette party

not mine, i’m so single it hurts

Ahhh that makes sense. So you got shitfaced in solidarity? 

exactly you get it

you seem like you’d be the DD at a bachelorette party

Well seeing as I’m a dude I don’t do Bachelorette parties. 

Well I did go to one, but that’s a different story.  

hmmm you seem like a very interesting man doctor evil spawn 

going to bachelorette parties, living with women who aren’t your girlfriend 

OMG ARE YOU DATING THE GUY YOU LIVE WITH?!

George? No absolutely not. And before you ask, my other girl roommate is gay. 

so you’re single?

i’m only asking so when you murder me the police have as much information as possible

Haha very funny. I would be a terrible murderer. 

you didn’t answer my question

Fine. Yes I’m single. 

i’ll note that in the “serial killer file” i’m building 

gotta go, I have to do work :/

Have fun, don’t die. 

  Sunday 8:38 PM

Arizona is trying to set me up on a blind date. 

who’s arizona?

My gay roommate. She wants me to meet this “bubbly blonde” she knows from her pilates class. 

ahhhh. why don’t you go?

Bubbly blonde is not my type. Sounds like she’ll spend the whole date talking about how much she loves dogs or her knitting hobby. 

Plus she does pilates, that tells me more than enough. 

you’re making some good points. I don’t pity you. 

You better not. How was work?

the longest day of my life

it was just paperwork, I don’t actually work on the weekends

What do you do?

hmmmm that’s exactly what a serial killer would say

i’m an elementary school teacher

Oh so you sing and dance and paint pictures all day?

what school did you go to?

were working on multiplication tables and basic photosynthesis tomorrow

Wow that sounds like a lot.

it’s may, ive got three weeks of school left so I have to cram all the crap we didn’t cover into these last few weeks 

Ahhh that sounds more accurate.

and what do you do? 

besides text strangers that you don’t know

I’m a pediatrician. 

oh so you make kids cry and wipe snotty noses all day? two can play at that game

Well we both have to deal with snotty noses sooo...

I GET IT!! Doctor Evil Spawn!! 

why evil spawn though? 

I wasn’t this nice when I started med school. My personality is an acquired taste. 

ha! that’s a funny joke. 

so if you’re a fancy schmancy doctor why do you live with three other people?

I’m only a resident, not making the big bucks yet. Everyone else is a doctor too. 

are they all pediatricians?

No. Arizona is too but Cristina is a cardiologist and George is a trauma specialist. 

interesting!! I too live with my coworkers. it’s not fun. 

the table is always covered in craft supplies. 

Well I can never read the grocery list on the fridge. Stupid doctors script...

oh that’s a classic. you’re pretty funny Dr. Evil Spawn

Thanks Bar Girl. 

I gotta go. monday tomorrow and you know how fourth graders can be. night!! 

Night . 

  Monday 9:47 AM

there’s not enough coffee in the world for monday mornings. 

  Monday 10:52 AM 

Sorry I was yelling at the interns. We have a decent coffee cart here. Keeps me alive. Are you texting in class?

no it was recess

now they’re at spanish class

i’m not totally irresponsible 

Oh good to know the future of America is in good hands. Teacher Princess is “not totally irresponsible”

teacher princess?

Well, Cinderella lost her shoe, you puked on yours. Same thing. 

wooooooooow

that was so uncalled for...

I thought it was funny. Gotta go set a broken arm. 

broken arm vs. adverbs... can we switch? have fun lol

  Monday 3:26 PM

I don’t even think I know what an adverb is. 

how did you become a doctor??

Don’t need to know adverbs to fix a couple broken bones and snuffy noses. 

oh darn I should’ve gone to school for seven more years then

Haha. How were the adverbs?

better than expected, grading papers while I wait for my roomies to be done

we carpool, saving the environment and shit

Okay Eco Warrior.

you text like a 60 year old man

you’re not a 60 year old man are you?

No I’m a 28 year old man though

28 a doctor and you’re single? your personality must be worse than you described 

I’m a busy man, I don’t have time to settle down. And I have no desire to. 

yet you have time to text a complete stranger? 

hmmmm interesting...

Ouch, that one hurt Princess. 

steph is making me socialize with the other teachers

if I don’t respond, they killed me or dragged me to an essential oil party

Hahahaha

  Monday 5:18 PM

Did you get roped into a pyramid scheme?

nooo but therew as wine

I should sotp drunk texting you so often 

It makes your presence that much more entertaining. And bearable. 

woah woah dude

i’m a gem 

I can tell. Elementary school teacher with a heart of gold. 

awwww your too sweet tome

It’s a Monday. Who the hell gets drunk on a Monday?

teachers

we deserve it

You’re a teacher and you’re single and still going to Bachelorette parties. You’re what, 23? 

i’m 25 and i’m doing greta thanks you very nuch 

cnat believe that i’m supplying my perosnal info to a serial killer

What makes you so sure that I’m a mass murderer? 

ur weird nickname and ur intimate knowledge of the himan body

Mmm yes well a good amount of women do find themselves screaming around me often. Or under me. On top of me...

omg are you sending me dirty jokes

you’re crazy 

What can I say. 

Gotta go, I’m on call tonight. Get to bed safe, Bar Princess. 

mmmkay thanks Doc

  Wednesday 11:29 AM

What do you think is worse: School lunch or hospital food?

hospital food, no doubt

thursday is mac and cheese day here... I could bathe in that stuff

We have Spaghetti Wednesday but that’s the only good thing here. 

mmm how depressing

the teachers do a pot luck once a month and that’s always good

the art teacher next door to me makes the BEST blueberry muffins. 

Lucky. All I get here is vending machine cookies. Anything interesting happening in the elementary world? 

a first grader got lice last week so naturally we all have it now

I had to chop off six inches of my hair

Holy crap. Lice can be vicious, be thankful you didn’t have to shave your head. 

it feels like I did, my hair hasn’t been above my shoulders since the backstreet boys were still touring

Wow. I’m glad to know you’re well cultured. 

of course I am

gotta go, kids are back from music class

Don’t be too hard on them, they deserve a break every once in awhile. 

  Thursday 3:06 PM

Incoming Voice Call

“Jenna you forgot your lunch pail. Have a good day!”

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Peters. I didn’t grade Henry’s test yet, I’ll have it tomorrow. Thanks bye!”

“Helloooo?”

“Steph I gotta grab my things, I’ll be there in a seco- oh shit. Hello?”

“Bar Princess?”

“Doctor Evil Spawn? I must’ve butt dialed you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay I... I don’t mind the interruption. Are you leaving work?”

“Just about, we’re wrapping up the solar system and I have to bring home the diorama.”

“I was never good at the models, I prefer working with the real thing.”

“Oh ho, a man that works with his hands. I can appreciate that.”

“You know now we’re officially talking and we still don’t know each other’s names.”

“Well around here I’m Miss Wilson, but you can call me Jo.”

“Jo. Hmm I like chicks with dudes names. I’m Dr. Karev but you can call me Alex.”

“Well nice to kinda meet you Alex. I’ll talk to you soon, I gotta get out of here.”

“Talk to you later.”  

  Thursday 4:34 PM

I wouldn’t mind if you were my teacher.

how did I know you’d send me something along those lines

I’m predictable. I’m still calling you Bar Princess. 

as you wish doctor evil spawn

I get to assist on a surgery today. Tonsillectomy. 

like removing tonsils? that’s awesome

for you, not for the kid

Oh she’ll be fine, she gets ice cream and jello for a week.  

okay yeah I might be jealous of her now

id love to be off work for a week and have you waiting on me hand and foot

the ice cream is a nice bonus

You think that’s my job?

well you said you aren’t making the big bucks yet so.... yeah 

Keep dreaming. I’ll talk to you later, gotta scrub in. 

have fun!!!!