#i also love dr teddy's tie

[fourteen-teacups]

Happy birthday, @ilovemushystuff !!! Sending love and best wishes for a wonderful year! 🧁🥳🍰💐

Al, this was so much fun to read! And thank you for inviting me along for the ride! It was sweet to see the Turners all grown up and yet with their unique personalities in tact (my favorite has got to be Dr Teddy 🤭)! This family is so dedicated it's no wonder they were asked to be part of the NHS 75 celebration! I loved all the little references to our favorite CtM characters and your original characters seem like wonderful people as well! ❤️

HAPPY 75th BIRTHDAY NHS

Call the Midwife Special AU FIC

HAPPYBIRTHDAY @ilovemushystuff I know you aren't 75! but I hope you enjoy this. Like the NHS you are so loved, appreciated, valued and vital to this community. But in a much better state than the NHS. ❤💌🎈🎁🎂

Thank you @fourteen-teacups for being the most patient person in the world. It felt like 75years since we started writing this. 🥰@roguesnitch yes you can adopt a donkey.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to TV presenters living or dead are completely coincidental. Absoloutley. 😬

July 5th 2023, Aylward Care Home, Poplar.

“Come on Jack, do you want to have a wee sit in the garden? It's a lovely morning. Let’s fetch your cardi.” 

The tall man is stooped, no longer able to carry his previous imposing six foot stature. Bent by age and years of working his failing muscles and bones are always tired. He turns his head to look at the young fresh faced girl at his side. He likes this one. They are all nice, pleasant, some a little kinder than others. But they are busy, they have mouths to feed, medicines to dispense and bums to wash. This one she seems to have more time than others. Maybe it is because she has the gift of youth. She has time to play with. Jack’s time is running out. Time has started to tease him. Started to play cruel games. Time does not play fair. Time plays by its own rules.

A loud noise alerts Jack and he clings to the girl. She doesn't panic but steadies her friend. For a split second he is back in Derry, but only for a second.

“It’s only the telly Jack. In the day room, don’t worry. Someone’s put the sound up.”

An older woman appears in the corridor, older, but not as old as Jack. He thinks she has a  beautiful smile and a hint of a foreign accent. This one always makes him laugh. He asked her where she was from once and she said Hackney and then she roared with laughter. Jack laughed too; he didn't know why, it just feels good to laugh. But he never asked again.

“Who’s in the day room?”

“I’m not sure, I thought there was just one lady, but it can’t be. You take our Jack the Lad, here, into the garden while I go check it out, Amy.”

Amy. That's her name, sweet Amy. They wear name badges but the writing is too small.

“Thanks Flora.”

Ah yes, Flirty Flora. Now he remembers.

Amy returns to the day room, the telly is still too loud for her own comfort, but bearable. Flora is fiddling with the hearing aids in the ears of the only other occupant. She is being brushed away. Flora doesn't notice or if she does it doesn’t bother her,

“You want to hear, don't you? I’m too big to be a fly, you know. Can’t swat me away so easily.”

Amy smiles and sees what she thinks is a hint of what might be one in the resident resisting Flora’s ministrations.

“Who turned the sound up?” Amy asks as she looks around the otherwise empty room.

“No idea, I don’t think, my lady here, could reach the remote or figure out which button to press. It took me five minutes to guess how to turn it down again."

“Maybe Dangerous Dave is playing pranks again.”

“That’s what I thought but his daughter has taken him out today. It's Wednesday. If you ask me, that TV set is spooked. It’s always doing it.”

Flora completed her challenge of securing and tuning in the hearing aids, She gently takes hold of the arm that was flying into her face and asks if all is now comfortable and clear. She receives a slight nod in response, perceivable only because Flora knows what to look out for.

“Is this the right channel?” asks Amy.

“Yes, It’s 9 o'clock time for Lorraine.”

“I hope it isn’t that footballer’s missus again, right annoying she is.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“What give up this life of luxury for some sweaty millionaire, as if? The residents would miss me. You’d miss me.”

Flora smiles at Amy's protestations and thinks she may have detected another slight nod elsewhere.

A squeaky non descriptive tune pours out of the television and the screen is a vibrant mix of pink and white.

Three people sigh as Lorraine appears before them on screen.

Lorraine, a jolly looking white woman with dark shoulder length hair, who looks to be in her late fifties, fills the screen. She begins to talk to the camera. A Scottish lilt in her voice.

 “Good Morning everyone, how are you today? I hope you are all well. And if you are feeling well this morning, it might be in part to do with the focus of our show. That’s right we moved out of our cosy wee West London studio to venture east into Tower Hamlets.”

It becomes clear Lorraine is standing in front of an old building probably dated back to the late 1800s.

“The reason we find ourselves in Poplar this morning is to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the birth of the National Health Service. And what better way to do that, than in the Patrick Turner Health Hub that has provided primary care predating the formation of the NHS. In all that time it has been the working home of one family.”

The camera now pans out to reveal a Victorian building that has been extended and modernised over the centuries. Some additions are more historically sympathetic than others. Lorraine continues.

“There has been a Turner working here since the end of the Second World War. Including our very own medical expert and friend of the show, Dr Teddy Turner.”

A man of similar age to the presenter pops into view. He is tall, but doesn’t overshadow our host. His hair is dark but the light grey that highlights his unruly tresses may once have been blonde. He is smartly dressed in a dark tailored three piece suit, pink shirt and tie haphazardly adorned in medical equipment such as thermometers, stethoscopes and those things for looking in your eyes and ear.

 “Good Morning, Dr Turner.” 

“Good morning, Lorraine and welcome to Poplar.”

They chat in the tone of two old friends surprised to have bumped into each other at the doctor’s that morning.

“Well, it’s lovely to be here and the staff have made us very welcome. I’m sure the last thing they wanted on a busy Wednesday morning is a TV crew to contend with, but they've been really lovely.” 

“I think like everybody else involved in patient care we are only too glad to have the opportunity to celebrate 75 years of the National Health Service. And share a little bit of our part in that incredible history.”

“Well, shall we do just that very thing? After the break we will be venturing inside the Patrick Turner Health Hub. Where we will be meeting more Turners talking about the last 75 years of working within the NHS. We’ll be looking at some of the most significant changes over that time, with a family that has always been at the cutting edge, if you will please pardon my pun.”

Those who went to brew a cup of YorkshireTea during the intermission miss the NHS75 anniversary retro adverts for Radio Rentals, pink wafers and playtex girdles.

“Welcome back. As you can see we’ve moved into a sort of conference room. Is that right, Dr Teddy?”

“Yes, it's where we hold training days for our staff and the wider district. We also run information sessions for newly diagnosed diabetics, dementia support, mental health, stopping smoking, drug and alcohol advice. And of course women’s health, which here at Patrick Turner’s we specialise in.”

“Well, we are going to come on to that, but I see over here some lovely people. I would like you very much to introduce us to.”

The camera moves towards a group of people sat around a functional table with mugs in front of them of various sizes and designs.

“This is my big sister, Angela. She was a full time GP here for over thirty years and now runs a lot of our education programmes and Well Woman clinics. Her daughter Jools has taken over her mantle and also her office and is currently one of our full time GPs.”

A slim blonde woman who appears to be in her late 50s or early 60s becomes the camera operator's focus. Her hair is tied back from her face, which is thin and angular, but her blue eyes have a gleam and her lips are failing to hide a smirk. She carefully clutches a blue mug and seems to be holding it quite tensely at a deliberate angle. A few letters are revealed between her fingers UK, THE, IES.

“So she’s your niece. We might be able to catch a word with Dr Jools later, but she’s busy seeing patients right now. Is that right, Dr Teddy?”

“Yes, she is my niece. No-one does nepotism quite like the Turners.”

“Moving on.” Lorraine is starting to sound as if she is wondering who is running this show? “And who is this distinguished looking gentleman next to your lovely sister?”

“This gentleman also celebrates his 75th birthday this year. He's actually slightly older than the NHS. This is Sir Timothy Turner, Lorraine. Or as I refer to him Lord Buggerlugs.”

“That seems very unkind, but having a sibling myself it's relatable. I must also apologise to anyone offended by any inappropriate use of language so early in the morning. Regular viewers will know this is to be expected when Dr Teddy is my special guest.”

“I’m seeing a disapproving glance from the lady next to Sir Timothy and the main reason we are here today. Dr Teddy’s, Sir Timothy’s and Dr Angela’s mum is also here. Dr Teddy, please introduce us to this remarkable lady.”

“Lorraine and viewers this is Sister Shelagh Turner, my, sorry, our mum. She came to Poplar in July 1948. It was the inception of the National Health Service. She arrived as a nurse and newly qualified midwife to work on the district with the nuns at Nonnatus House.” 

“I wonder if I could ask Sir Timothy to explain a wee bit of the history of Nonnatus House and its relevance in the East End of London.”

The camera focuses on a tall gentleman looking a good ten years older than his siblings. (They definitely appear to have been a good ten years). He is also dressed as smartly as his younger brother, but minus the novelty tie. Anyone who studied medicine in Edinburgh would recognise this tie’s pattern. He clears his throat and looks directly into the camera.

“Only if you cease referring to me as Sir Timothy. I accepted my knighthood from the late Queen in recognition of my rewarding career as a GP and as an advocate of the NHS and Public Health. I am now retired from medicine. I do continue to campaign for justice for those who through negligence contracted Hepatitis C and the HIV virus as a result of blood transfusions. Compensation has still not been fully distributed and no UK public body has ever admitted responsibility. Therefore, my job is not yet done. So therefore, I’m just Tim.”

“That’s so well said, Sir Tim. And that seems to be a thread that runs through the Turner family. Generation after generation. Your father, the late Dr Patrick Turner who this medical practice is named in memory of, was an early advocate for the families affected by Thalidomide. As you have so rightly reminded us, you have spoken up for all those affected by the 20th century Factor 8 scandal. Your sister, Dr Angela Turner is a voice many will be familiar with on Women’s Hour on Radio 4 sharing her wealth of knowledge on the menopause and postnatal trauma. And of course our own Dr Teddy brought clarity and evidence based truths to our viewers during the recent Covid pandemic.”

For the first time they all look less assured, even Dr Teddy is lost for words. He and Angela both look towards their older brother.

“We’ve all been inspired by our parents. Dad was a great believer in medicine's ability to heal after witnessing the return of the injured as a child in Liverpool from 1914. He was able to compare those times to the wider use of antibiotics which he witnessed as an army medic during WWII. As a GP working through the 60s he saw, thanks to vaccination, the demise of TB and Polio both of which had previously left their scars on our family. The Thalidomide scandal was a heavy blow to recover from, for a GP who only wanted to prevent and ease suffering. Fortunately he  married Shelagh, who loved and believed in him completely." He nods towards the lady sat next to him.

"Through her religious background she understood the way ahead isn’t always clear or certain, She always used to quote St. Julian of Norwich to us as children, ‘He did not say you would not be assailed, you will not be laboured, you will not be disquieted, but he did say you will not be overcome.’ My father was not a religious man, but I believe he drew strength through my mothers steadfast faith in God, and even more so from her faith in him.”

“Thank you Sir...Tim. Well, I think that’s given us all a lot to think about as we go to another wee break.” 

Viewers who want to adopt a donkey are infuriated by adverts for Babysham, tinned spam and a Tiny Tears doll. 

 “Welcome back to Lorraine in Poplar.”    

“So here I am, sitting next to the mother of these fine boys and the gorgeous Dr Angela, Sister Shelagh Turner.”

 “Greetings”

A small woman with steel grey hair pulled into a tidy bun sits between Tim and Angela. She wears a tailored navy jacket with a delicate gold pearl and ruby brooch on the lapel. She holds her mug less furtively than her daughter and viewers can clearly read the words If In Doubt Just Ask Mum.

“From what I’ve been told by your son you qualified as a midwife in 1948.”

 “I did.”

“Dr Teddy, your mother is Scottish!” Lorraine cries in surprise, because obviously she hadn’t introduced herself to her guest before the show. “I can see we are going to get along quite famously. Can you tell me the changes you have seen over the last 75 years?”

“Oh my dear, you may have to cancel one of those shows that follows this one, about relocating abroad or selling something you found in an attic, for me to tell my story.”

Viewers are frantically trying to work out how old Shelagh Turner is as this indomitable lady cooly answers every question. She brings a sense of calm to the temporary studio, in a building she has been familiar with most of her life. If at that moment anyone asked Alexa or Siri to show them the meaning of professional they would instantly produce a picture of Shelagh Turner. 

“My mother died when I was young. I nursed her through her affliction, as I would my father too. I didn’t want to be a greengrocer, like my family before me. All I had ever done since being a small child was nurse. I knew no other life. So after my father died at the end of the war I headed to London. They were crying out for nurses and that is who I am.”

“The greatest change I’ve seen besides the obvious advances in technology, is the reliance on single use plastic. Nothing was disposable in my day, including syringes and enema tubes. Everything had to be autoclaved and reused. But technology has to be the most significant advancement in the day-to-day practice of nursing care. We didn't have machines to do the work for us. If someone was receiving blood or intravenous fluids, through a drip you understand, we had to calculate the drip-rate in our heads or on paper. Then we had to count the drips in the reservoir every 15 minutes to ensure it wasn’t going too fast or too slow. There weren't any machines beeping to alert us to problems.”

Angela, who had been quiet up until this point,just watching the whole shebang with the same amusement of someone not at the top table observing a bridesmaid with a nosebleed, chose this moment to interject.

“I think a lot of current nurses would be happy to get rid of those infernal bleeps.”

“I’m sure you are right, dearest. When I first qualified, the only machinery I was familiar with was the iron lung used to treat Polio patients..."

Below the lens two hands brush against each other.

“I remember it well.....” He says.

“Too true, dearest. It may now be antiquated and look barbaric but we were glad of it during the Christmas of 1958.”

“Did you have Polio as a child, S...Tim?” 

“I did, Lorraine. As Mum said, I ended up in hospital over Christmas when I was ten-years-old. My parents had to cancel their wedding.”

“Oh no! Deary me.”

The presenter appears to be lost for words. This part was obviously not rehearsed. Guest co-presenter Dr Teddy is of no help as he has the countenance of the youngest child, who is always in bother, becoming aware that his big brother is finally going to get it.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be considered very shocking or unusual these days. But just for the sake of propriety, Timothy’s father, Patrick, was a widower. Timothy sadly lost his mother to cancer a couple of years earlier. Another dreadful disease we have made great strides in treating in the last 75 years.”

“You and Dr Turner worked with the Nonnatus nuns, I'm led to believe. They may not be known to our wider audience, but are still very much remembered with affection and gratitude in Poplar, am I right?”

“I hope so, I would like to believe so. The Order of St Raymond Nonnatus trained as nurses and midwives in Euston, arriving in Poplar in 1899. Once the NHS formed, the nuns worked alongside state trained nurses and pupil midwives, most of whom lived in the convent originally based in Leyland Street. They moved to Wick Street in 1959, where they stayed until the late 70s. The Turner practice was always closely linked to Nonnatus. Patrick, my husband, unusually for the time, had a special interest in women’s health. It wasn’t like today, women were just expected ‘to shut up and put up’ as Sister Evangelina used to say. She was a rather bold nun who was always a little ahead of her time and not afraid of telling it like it is, or was.” 

Shelagh pauses for a moment as if she is recalling something she chooses not to share. Angela, sensing her mother’s brief loss in concentration, picks up the thread.

“There were more home births in those days. Mum and Dad ran what we would now call a mother and baby unit, but they were known as maternity homes. We are actually sitting in what was once a four bedded ward. The rest of the rooms were divided up to house our phlebotomy service and provide extra clinic space. One of the labour rooms we still use for minor surgery. Most health centres provide a particular service these days so there isn’t a doubling up of specialities. Patients will know they may be sent to a different centre than their own GPs surgery for let’s say, diabetic advice, heart monitoring, eye checks and podiatry. At Patrick Turner’s Health Hub we have continued my parents’ work. Focusing primarily on women’s health, neonatal care and respiratory conditions, something my parents as ex-smokers were very keen to learn more about and educate their patients.” 

“Sister Shelagh, you were a smoker? I am shocked to hear this.” Lorraine looks horrified, she appears so wholesome.

“Oh, everyone smoked during the war years and into the 60s. It was even thought to be good for you at one time, or so the tobacco companies wanted us to believe.”

Dr Teddy suddenly realises he hasn’t spoken in over ten minutes and is getting paid for this.

“You didn’t smoke when you were a nun though, did you Mum? I blame Dad, he was a bad influence. Tim told me he remembers him smoking in clinic." Before his mother's glare alone ruins his blossoming media career, Lorraine interupts.

“A nun!? You were one of the sisters, Shelagh?”

“Yes, I was, when I first arrived at Nonnatus in 1948, but not when I left in 1958. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Lorraine is looking at all Shelagh's children seated around her. “Your children are giving all your secrets away today, Shelagh. I think Dr Teddy might end up on the naughty step when he gets home.”

“It was a long time ago and I learned everything I know working with the Order, especially from my dearest friend, Sister Julienne. But the last sixty years have been the happiest and most fulfilling of my life. And the majority of  them have been spent working within and for the NHS. And that’s why I’m here with you today.”

“Nice deflection back to our main topic today, Shelagh. Are you after my job? The producer in my ear has just asked me to not let you leave before I book you in for another show... on your own without your lovely family. Oh! I see.. before the Daily Mail gets to you first for your story, he‘s added. Don’t think that will be happening anytime soon, looking at the expression on Shelagh’s face.”

“We are off for another break now, viewers.”

Viewers wanting to take out an over 55s life insurance policy securing themselves a free pen are now on the phone to the TV regulator Ofcom in protest to advertisements for Brylcreem, old Spice and the Dandy and Beano.

“Welcome back. So, we are going to end today’s NHS75 special with a lovely gift for the Turner family. It’s the least we can do after all this family has done for us over the last 75 years. This is a complete surprise for the Turners. Not all of the Turner children are here today. Tim, Anglela and Teddy’s sister, May, is also in the family firm. She chose to follow in her mother’s footsteps. No! She is not a nun. But the Chief Nursing Officer in a hospital based in Hong Kong. When did you last see May, Shelagh?”

“Oh, it was before Covid, she was due to come home Christmas 2020 and couldn’t and she's been so busy she hasn’t been able to reschedule. She’s so dedicated.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Tim and Ted say in unison.

“I don’t like flying now at my age. Angela went out there last year, didn’t you, dear? They’ve always been very close.”

“Look up at the big screen on the wall, Shelagh.You won’t see a video about vaccination or what to do if you are having a stroke. But, who is this?”

The numbers for the surgery disappear from the screen and are replaced by the bright smile of a Chinese woman wearing a white silk blouse, giggling and shouting “now” repeatedly.

“Hello Mum, Hello Fam! How are you all? And how is dear old Poplar?”

The East London room is full of forcefully expired air and cries of “May”.

“I'm going to leave you all to chat privately, in a moment. But can I just ask, May? You grew up in Poplar, do you have good memories?”

“Oh, yes. I came from Hong Kong in 1963 and couldn’t speak a word of English. Patrick and Shelagh fostered me and eventually my birth mum gave permission for them to adopt me. Mother Mildred brought me and some other children, who were orphaned or estranged from their parents, to start new lives. But I remember Poplar with so much love; the sisters, Fred, Vi and Reggie who ran the corner shop. Darling Aunt Trixie and Jonty, my friend Colette and her mother, Nancy. Then there was Pastor Robinson. Too many to name.. Nurse Crane and Miss Higgins mustn't forget them. And lots of girls called Alison. I actually thought all English girls were called Alison for a while. I even thought about changing my name to Alison. Everyone was so welcoming and helped me feel right at home. It was just a shame about Teddy really.”

“Oh! That Turner sense of humour. I see it is intact over the miles. Angela is nodding her head in agreement with your remarks about your younger brother. I need to maybe have a few minutes chat with her in the Green Room after the show. You returned to Hong Kong, May, as a nurse. Can you tell us a wee bit about that?”

“Of course. As much as London will always be my home. I wanted to give something back to my place of birth. The reason Mother Mildred brought me to England was because there wasn’t provision for someone in my situation over here in the 1960s. I wanted to return and see what changes had been made and if I could contribute in any way. It also gave me a chance to meet my Chinese mother again and thank her for giving me the opportunities I had because of her sacrifices.”

“Did you get to spend much time with her, May?”

“Yes, I did. She passed away a few years ago. I got a chance to say goodbye and to be with her at the end of her life as she was at the beginning of mine.”

“That’s lovely May. I’m going to let you catch up with your family now. I’m sure your mum has a lot of questions for you to answer. Probably starting with when are you coming home? Thank you, May Turner.”

“And thank you to all my guests on this NHS 75th anniversary special. Thanks to all the Turners: Shelagh, Tim, Angela, May and our own Dr Teddy. I will be back tomorrow with more inane guests to chat with. Won’t be anywhere near as much fun as this, I promise you.”

The camera focuses on Dr Teddy Turner.

"We will leave you with the words of the Health Secretary in 1948, Mr Nye Bevan."

"No society can call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of lack of means."

As the credits roll the camera moves to on an outside wall. It focuses a well polished brass plaque on which three lines are written.

KENILWORTH ROW MATERNITY HOME AND SURGERY DR. P. TURNER

"Here, here!" Is followed by cheers and clapping.

“Well that was the best episode of Lorraine I've ever skived off to, with a cuppa, in all my working days.”

“Flora, we are not skiving, we are socialising with the residents and attending to their recreational and creative needs.”

“You do have a way with words, our Ames. You applied to tech to do those exams you need, yet? You know the ones to get into Uni to do your nursing.”

“No, I haven’t. Stop nagging me. I’m not good with exams, Flo, you know that.”

“You’re very good with people though, Amy. More than good. And the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“Counts for nothing Flora, you have to be one of those clever buggers to be a nurse these days. I’m happy here with my Grans until Aldi or some other supermarket makes me a better offer I can’t refuse.”

“Well. I’m going to keep nagging. But in the meantime, I Wouldn’t say no to Dr Teddy checking out my auld ticker with his stethoscope, one day.”

“Oh Flora, you are crude. His niece is my doctor. She’s brilliant, she really helped me out with that little problem I had.”

“Well, I could have helped you out with that, Amy. Change your washing powder or tell that man of yours to dip it in Domestos bleach before he comes near you next time.”

“Flora, you're shocking......are you alright, love?”

Amy notices tears streaming down their companion’s face, but her eyes remain bright and clear.

The young carer dabs those tears, “Magic hankie cures all. As my gran used to say.”

“Poor old love, probably brought back memories. Talking about them Nonnatuns,” Flora added. “You alright Sister? I know where there is a nice piece of Victoria Sponge with your name on it. Amy here will put the kettle on.”

“How old do you think she is?”

“Dunno. No one seems to know. No one knows how long she’s been here. Dangerous Dave says she made a deal with God to look after the people of Poplar for all eternity.

“You know Dangerous Dave talks bollocks, right?”

“I’m just saying what I heard. So about Dr Teddy, do you think he's on Tinder?”

“He’s sixty-years-old, Flora. Get a grip.”

As they leave to put the kettle on and cut the cake. The sound coming from the televison set suddenly increases.

[zahri-melitor]

New(ish) Comics:

Birds of Prey #13: That was a clever use of Cass to finish the storyline. Kelly Thompson's generated enough good will from me at this point that yeah, I'd consider her as one of the strongest Birds of Prey writers since Dixon and Simone, though Sean McKeever probably still edges her out (McKeever had a stronger lead in though to work from, and so many people barely distinguish his work from Simone's).

I'm interested to see where Thompson takes them from here. I certainly still have quibbles (I would love to see a commitment to using Barbara as Oracle only appear on page; I do think Thompson is having way too much fun trying to play with ALL the characters and needs to focus a bit more on the ones she has already), but I'm never disappointed by the title? I enjoy myself.

Batman #152: I've got to say, as someone who has also played around with Darkseid powers, I enjoyed that Bruce acknowledged on page that Omega Beams do weird shit on occasion, revolving around what Darkseid wants, and that Bruce would in fact be cautious of them in ways other people are not. I'm not sure as a story it accomplishes a lot as an an Absolute Power tie-in (mostly I think it's just keeping Bruce out of the way while other characters get focus in the main titles), but I did appreciate the use of the Batman #79 callback to the Beach Holiday Of Explicitly Taking Time For Ourselves While The Children Are Dealing With Drama, because Bruce and Selina and holidays at the beach and on cruises is a long running theme together and I never hate seeing it pop up.

Putting the Birds of Prey Absolute Power set up into the back of this made sense in terms of comics pricing and keeping the number of event comics contained, but also probably needed to be better signalled. Read this AFTER BOP #13.

The Boy Wonder #5: and Juni Ba caps his story off.

This was sweet! In the spectrum of non-canonical or dubiously-canonical retellings of origin stories, I think this straddled the line pretty well, particularly in how it was explicitly pitched as a story someone was telling. Some of the resolution in the final issue was a bit pat for me (in terms of we all moved forward and solved things), but the focus stayed where it needed to be (on Damian and Damian's connections), and plenty of the implications were significantly creepier than Smol Damian here realised.

This would sit happily beside the Demon Trilogy as a quasi-canonical Al Ghul story. I think Dennis O'Neil would have appreciated it.

DC's I Know What You Did Last Crisis #1:

Honestly my opening thought on this was 'why did anyone offer Dan DiDio a writing slot'? Because, I've read a bunch of DiDio's work, and part of the situation with him at DC has always been that he's a mediocre writer that wouldn't rate a title if he hadn't already been working in editorial/management. His credits don't actually contain any stories and titles that people are big fans of, and a lot of his work was done collaboratively with stronger writers (if you're writing with Keith Giffen, I suspect Giffen is handling a lot of the actual plotting work and charm).

Okay rant out of the way:

Batgirl-COIE story: I don't mind this, but I feel like if I were going to pitch a Barbara story at this point I'd want it more in communication with Barbara Randall Kesel's work. I'd have Barbara acknowledge the Krypto stuffed dog and maybe bond with the kid over "I had a teddy called Supergirl". Also, this is...very early for 'Waylon likes kids'. Like, decades too early. Croc's characterisation feels far later than when this story is set.

Dr Light-Millennium: It's not bad as a horror piece, but as a few other people have noted, I feel it wastes the aspect of 'the Manhunters are hidden among us' inherent in their portrayal in the event. Nice moment spent with a few characters who don't get much page time though.

Birds of Prey-Final Night: this very much feels like a missing tie in! Which we didn't get, because BOP had the Manhunt mini instead during that period. Ashley Allen has a good grasp on the time frame and events going on for this. My one quibble is having Dinah working in Gotham here, as Barbara still was focusing on world-roaming problems at this point over local ones, but otherwise, it slotted in very nicely.

JSA-Zero Hour: This is fine. I will say the quip about "the number of Bat-people" for Zero Hour feels a bit thin. You mean, Batman, Nightwing, Robin, ... Huntress and Spoiler? Steph has barely had her second ever storyline, the only person in Gotham who trusts Helena is Tim, JPV is busy dealing with having been insane, and Dick's been home for five minutes. They literally just finished a multi-year event about how Bruce didn't have the support he needed.

Nightwing-Infinite Crisis: it's just sad and pathetic that Dan DiDio remains so mad that his staff rebelled and wouldn't let him kill Dick Grayson. It was almost two decades ago. Why are you still having a tantrum about this publicly? It's not even worth addressing the characterisation, as it's just an attempted take-that that makes him look worse.

Scarecrow-Blackest Night: ...if you're going to set something at the Monarch Theatre maybe take 5 seconds to check the wiki about what was happening with the location around the time of the story. It was not a functioning movie theatre, folks, and we're just prior to The Carpenter's Tale. I dunno. This one felt like a waste of the setting.

Lex Luthor-Final Crisis: look I don't enjoy Final Crisis, but this is incredibly set during Final Crisis. This feels like pretty solid Lex characterisation and introspection, and I'm sure he hates that he's hallucinating a Superman to talk down to.

Midnighter-Flashpoint: I dunno, the characterisation feels off for both Pyg and Midnighter. It's fine, but I would have preferred another story that really felt like a missing backup from an event.

My general overarching opinion? Most of the writers could have used a bit closer attention to context for their stories, if you're playing "this is set during". That's something people can check.

The Warlord #66: I just checked and we are so close to halfway through volume 1 of the Warlord! They simply do not commission 133 issue runs plus annuals of random conspiracy titles anymore. Anyway this week in Skartaris Mongo Ironhand remains the worst. Also Mariah and Mikola finally get to talk to each other and Mariah tells her lost werewolf fencing instructor lover that she's actually now got the hots for an ex-gladiator with a spiked mace for a fist. (Oh, Skartaris)

There is tragically very little discussion of communism. Get back to preaching about the benefits of communism, Mariah!

Also we fight a demon (who transformed from the Gollum creature like...30 issues earlier), Mariah tricks him into stabbing himself in the eyesocket with a trick sword, Jennifer defeats him with magic, they throw the magic book the demon was using into a volcano vent to destroy it, and the men are largely all useless.

Thank you, that has been our back in pre-history LOTR rip off of the week.

[be-side-my-self]

Rewatch of ONLY Murders In The Building to prepare for season 4 (V)

<Part I> // <Part II> // <Part III> // <Part IIII>

Block #OMITBRewatch if you don’t want to read notes that will have spoilers up to seasons 3. Just to make it clear, while quoting, I use M, O, C for the main characters.

Also I’m putting this under a read more because it gets long. (also, also this is the fifth part and I finally added "only" to the title.)

S2 E7

Episode of Mabel.

There is Theo and that is a really nice apartment.

M: "Is that me? Did I stab someone? Again?"

Detective Williams baby is so cute! Keith.

Mabel: "Nice accesory." Theo: *Looks down at his ankle* Mabel: "You steal jewelery from dead people, and the state gives you and anklet. Kind of poetic." Theo: *slams the mug, pissed off.*

THEO DIMAS I'm deaf. I write, or use ASL _I catch only 1/3 of what you say,_ through lip-reading.

*insert that video from american psycho about the business cards.

Theo: "When you got off the train, you were in shock so I took you to my place like creep."

Theo is really nice.

Detective Williams is so great.

.... they are so stupid it's amazing... but also that apartment is poorly soundproofed

Talking about a two-men job on the toilet is a really weird thing to say.

M: "Ah, yes. The adventures of a teenage grave robber. Got it."

Theo likes the simple solutions. Nice.

Someone with frustration is playing Whak-a-mole

Crane game... my sister is so good at it. Better than Theo.

So, how did he manage to get the ring in the crane-game? Sleight of hand? He could have put it in there when Mable did not look.

Oliver probably has probably flash-back to the time Will was a baby.

The dads are consulting.

Oh Mabel :(

Of course she is angry, her dad is dying and he can't keep his promises and she does not know.

Uh oh... glitter.

That is such a good scene.

So, the background on Mable's phone... is that her fursona?

Omg... please... I know you need to look at the lips Theo, but please look at the street.

M: "Thank you for stealing my fish."

Oh right! A blackout!

S2 E8

Sith-Avenue Slasher

Something about this was correct...

Also love the fan-made merch. All the tie-die stuff.

You always get Oliver with dips.

Howard! Go for it!!

Psycharatist: "There may be more to life than cats."

... lmao Charles and Oliver bonding over the guy who operated their knees. Besties.

Howard: "Sevenlyn Marie Morris, num num!"

Smooth, Howard!

It's actually nice to see some side-characters in that episode...

Howard and that other guy are a match made in heaven... pity it does not last :/

Also the scene with Nina and the door-man is really good.

Oh... the whole house singing sound of silence. That is such a nice scene.

:(

Mabel takes the dips with her!

lmao everyone getting drunk in the lobby XD

M: "But why are you here? Other than interrogating teenage girls? Detective Kreps: "That's just one part of the job I happen to like."

YIKES YIKES YIKES

The GLITTER!!

S2 E9

Rose Cooper and Leonora Folger are the same person iirc.

Well the alimony is probably partly your fault, Kreps.

Kreps: "And she, or he, if that is your thing, they smile at you, and your whole goddamn universe turns upside down. And that's when shit gets really crazy."

M: "That is ASL for glitter." C: "Oh, that is kind of fun."

Congrats Oliver! You are the father!

O: "There's no real difference. All the European countries are esentially the same."

... boy.

Hey, Alice!

As I said, I did not like Alice but this is really tragic. It would have been nice for Mabel to have an artist as a girlfriend.

Oh lol... Rose just acted like she was Leonora.

And... now I think I remember that Oliver is lying about being greek... but it's a white lie?

25 Willow Dr Lake Placid New York

"Excessive Force Fighting Gym" ... that sounds fun and not serious at all. But gosh the upcoming scene is so good.

Hey, Teddy!

Lmao... Oliver just going for Teddy's throat.

O: "You're my son's father, you piece of shit!"

Kreps: "If I'm so stupid, how come I was able to land the smartes woman on the planet?"

It they weren't murderers their story would have been kinda cute.

Teddy: "Ow!" O: "Can I get you something!? Coffee? Water? A swift kick in the dick?" Teddy: "Look, Oliver, let me explain--" O: "Oh no, no, no. You know you don't have to. I was up all night talking to Roberta. She told me what happened." Teddy: "Did she tell you it only happened once?" O: "She said twice." Teddy: "One night, two times." O: "Well, now you're just bragging."

Mabel figures it out but comes to the wrong conclusion... I mean I would too.

Teddy's whole family was a bunch of crooks.

Teddy: "Aren't we square at this point? You send me to jail, I fuck your wife?"

Well, shit.

S2 E10

I remember that I really enjoyed the episode.

Poppy really had a shitty life.

The Mayor... yikes, yikes, yikes...

Cinda is such a bitch.

O: "Torture? Can we torture her? Charles, get your concertina and whatever you consider your 10 most intersting stories." C *rubbing his nose with his middle finger*: "Hm, let me just muse on that, uh, for a second." O *smirks*: "Mm."

No, Oliver it does not feel like a finale yet... but at least we got to see Poppy's background story.

M: "Oliver, what did we agree on?" O: "You and Charles do the talking."

I know people who are disgusted by the inside of the tomatoe but also someone who gets an allergic reaction when eating unprocessed tomatoes. I on the other hand can eat a tomatoe like an apple. And I enjoy it.

Liverwurst? Yum. Marmelade? Yum. Togther? ... nonono

Uma is great.

Lester's (Doorman) story is hardcore.

Oliver is so fast with giving away Charles' money.

O: "The sexual energy between you two was obvious. I'd say more, but this is a family murder podcast."

Charles and Oliver doing slow motion is so hilarious.

Don't waste food.

... love how Mabel ist using the ego of Poppy to confess.

Holy shit what a scene.

I remember the first time I saw that I was so freaked out.

And the fact that Cinda is now complimenting Mabel...

Again... if they weren't murderers, I would have wished Krebs and Poppy all the best.

C: "Hallelujah! It's a miracle cure!" Lucy: "Nice. you got de-dementia'd."

LMAO... How Charles tries his best to ask out Joy and luckily she understands his grunts.

Pity, that the mural is painted over.

Also it seems like Mabel and Alice stayed friends at least. Maybe dated some longer, who knows?

Awww... Will and Oliver having a moment.

I screamed when I saw Paul Rudd in that role.

But like what kind of ass do you have to be to get on the bad side of Charles?

*dramatic yodeling*

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Hello Dr. Greg! (saw that tag from an ask a few weeks ago, and have updated myself accordingly). I had to ask what kind of brother do you think Harry would be to a little sister (maybe 4-5 years younger than him). Please answer, because I have overthought this idea now for a few days, and now i want a professional's view on it... Also, on a side note- I love your writing so much, it actually got me to appreciate literature all over again...

oh my god, doctor greg lives on. i missed them. hello, yes, you have reached dr. greg.

thank you for thinking of me as a professional but i assure you i mostly just produce hot gas <3 (uhm also my hot gas got you to appreciate LITERATURE again????? dear god, printing that out to hang in my salon alongside, "Fault Lines is my Blue". honest to god, knock me out, i cannotttt).

so, harry james potter, i think would be pretty consistent across sibling ages and genders. i think harry is such a teacher and this is shown canonically, how much he THRIVES in being able to show someone else how to do something?

i think he would do that a lot. like...attempting to teach tiny Stacey Potter how to tie her shoes, or like, "No if you want an extra slice of cake you have to make your eyes really big like this"

i think harry is generous and would share, but would hate it when his things were touched or moved without his permission. (i HC a lot that teddy would take ugly flannels from harry sometimes and harry would just lose his fucking mind). i could see a little sister doing this too like, "i just wanted a big comfy sweater. you had one. i took it." and harry definitely overreacts and makes GIANT keep out signs for his door--very regulus black of him tbh.

also, i feel like everybody loves to see this...overprotective harry and have him be like "NOT MY LITTLE SISTER YOU SHITS" but like...have we met disaster boy? little sister raised by Sirius and Remus would have no qualms standing her ground--she would have self-esteem coming out of her pores and wouldn't take an ounce of shit from ANYONE. I think harry would be the one holding her by the scruff and being like "what'd he do? oh, hexed a first year? yeah go ahead." or like "sister, they accidentally tripped and scuffed your sneaker...i think it'll be okay."

but like..

mostly just a lot of love.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

That Kind of Loss

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy Summary: Owen makes some hard decisions, but he's loyal to his best friend in the end. Warnings: Spousal death, canon character death Word Count: 916 Ship(s): Teddy Altman/Henry Burton, Teddy Altman & Owen Hunt

Archive link!

A/N: I really, really hated how Owen handled Henry's death in the show so I've written a couple of these and this is the shortest one that is the most canon compliant. Hope you guys enjoy it even though it's really heavy in angst! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

He watched as his wife dragged in another ragged breath. Her hand was grasping the edge of the sink and she was basically kneeling on the floor. Her other hand waved in front of her mouth a few times before she covered the lower half of her mouth with another sob. He knelt down next to her, pulling her closer to him and rubbing her back with one hand. "I love you," he whispered. He was fully aware that it was selfish to be focusing on them and their relationship when something so horrible had happened to someone that was so close to the both of them, but all he could think about was losing her.

"You have to tell her," she gasped as she looked up at him. "I know that she's in surgery right now but you have to tell her. She has to know."

He looked into Cristina's eyes for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress her face. "I'm going to have to ask you to do something really hard for me. I know that you're probably really upset with me right now for letting you operate on Henry without telling you to, but we also need to think of Teddy's patient," he kissed her forehead. "I need you to go in and take over her surgery so that I can tell her."

She took a moment and nodded. She wiped the tears off of her face with her hand before she stood up. "I'm only a little upset with you. I know that Teddy pressed you to do it because she trusts me and that's her husband. Just promise that you'll actually tell her."

"Of course," he nodded as he stood up and reached out to touch her arm. "Are you sure that you're going to be okay?"

"I will be. As long as I know that you're going to take care of Teddy I can focus on the surgery and not think about what just happened," she nodded.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. "Just make sure that you take care of yourself."

She turned away from him and walked to the OR next door. She began scrubbing immediately. Owen walked in a moment later, following her into the OR with a mask held over his face after helping his wife tie on her surgical equipment.

Teddy glanced up at the two of them and then back to the heart that she was working on. "Is everything alright? How's Henry?"

"Help Dr. Yang scrub in please," Owen said to one of the nurses. The nurse nodded and went to help the other doctor scrub into the surgery. He then turned back to his old friend, his heart sinking down in his chest. "Teddy, please let Cristina take over your surgery and come talk with me."

"No," Teddy's voice warbled a little as she looked up at both of them. Cristina moved to stand where the other doctor was, waiting for the blond to pull away so that she could take over. "No, Owen please," she whispered.

"Teddy," Cristina murmured, pressing their shoulders together since that was the only thing that she could do while remaining sterile. The other woman refused to move, so she gently reached over and grasped the tools that Teddy had been using. Cristina then turned to the nurse and said, "Please help Dr. Altman out to the scrub room so she can talk to the chief."

"Of course, Doctor," the nurse said as she reached out and gently grasped the woman's arm to help her out of the OR. 

"Update me on the patient, please," Cristina said as she looked into the chest that Teddy had been working on to assess what was going on.

Owen walked out of the OR with Teddy, moving the mask away from his face as soon as the doors swung shut behind him. "Teddy," he whispered as he tried to find the words. He had no idea how he was going to do this, but he knew that he had to. Not only did he owe it to his best friend but he had promised his wife that he would do it. "There was a complication in Henry's surgery. I don't know all of the logistics of it, but I do know that a tumor had eroded his carotid artery and by the time that they were trying to revive him he didn't have enough blood in his body for his heart to resume beating."

"No," she shook her head as she removed the surgical mask and gloves that she had been wearing. "Owen," she placed one of her brilliantly skilled hands over her mouth.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

She let out a little bit of a bitter laugh, though it kind of sounded like a sob as well. She held herself up on the edge of the sink the same way that Cristina had when he told her that she had been operating on Henry. "You know how we teach all of the interns that they have to actually say it? Owen, I- I need you to say it," she bit out.

"Henry Burton is dead," he managed to get out around the tightness in his throat. He and Teddy had both lost so many friends out in the field, out in the war that they had both suffered through, but nothing could have prepared either of them for this kind of loss.

[insomniac-jay]

Redesigning the Goodbye Despair Girls

My two previous redesigning DR characters: Part 1| Part 2

Chiaki Nanami

First of all, who is playing video games in a skirt? Please let me know who is playing video games in a skirt. Exactly no one. I made Chiaki chubby and gave them acne and glasses. They wear a cute Princess Peach tank top, pastel rainbow undershirt, Pacman hoodie, Minecraft pajama shorts, kitty thigh highs, and Mario slippers. They also wear a pansexual, trans, and NB pins on their hoodie as well as numerous pins of other video games. Their backpack is a holographic ones with Care Bears on it.

Sonia Nevermind

I tied Sonia’s hair in a bun bc it’s way too long. She also wears a Star of David necklace and Hamsa earrings. She wears white gloves, a yellow shoulder dress with long sleeves and a flower on the chest but she can still walk around in it, the red tie with the blue gem in between as a hair tie, and black Mary Jane shoes. She also wears a pearl necklace that is apart of the family jewels and some flowers in her hair. I was going for a cottagecore look.

Mahiru Koizumi

I don’t know either to give Mahiru a longer dress or put her in pants so for now I’ll make the pants option an alternative outfit. I gave her more freckles because she deserves more freckles. She wears a white long sleeve blouse underneath a yellow shirt with puffy sleeves, brown vest with lesbian and trans pins on it, and a long orange pleated skirt with floral patterns on it. She also wears a Star of David necklace and carried around a Polaroid. I also gave her a little flower in her hair bc I was also going for a cottagecore look with her.

Hiyoko Saionji

I made Hiyoko taller bc I hate the whole loli thing. I took some inspiration from her despair design since I like that a lot. Hiyoko wears her hair in an updo since that is how hair is styled whilst doing traditional dress in Japan. She wears a headpiece with floral accents, pink kimono with flower designs, and socks with sandals. She also carries a fan because those are also used in Japanese traditional dance.

Peko Pekoyama

I gave her shorter hair bc her braids will get in the way of her fighting. She wears a dark grey keikogi with the symbol of the Kuzuryu Clan, black hakama pants, black hakama jacket with dragon patterns on it, and black socks with sandals. She also wears a black mask with a panda face on it and carries two swords.

Ibuki Mioda

I wanted to go for several looks with Ibuki: scene, cyber goth, punk, and rave. This came with taking some inspirations from her beta design. I gave nya the big, multicolored hair from that one beta design and I gave nya a Hello Kitty gas mask with studs and goggles. Nya wears a black leather jacket with different pins including a bi and trans pride pin, a BLM pin, and an anarchy symbol, a holographic crop top, rainbow lace up corest, multicolored puffy skirt, fishnet tights, rainbow leg warmers, and holographic demonias. Nya also wears kandi and has lots of piercings. I also made nya a bit chubby.

Akane Owari

For the love of GAWD pls Akane some good clothes. I made her hair shorter because it’s gonna get in her way. This redesign is inspired by a cosplayer named @/nyla_majette on Tiktok who was inspired by @/arashichans-moved-deactivated here on Tumblr.

I kept the blouse bc that’s the connection to her part time job as a waitress but added a red sports hoodie, sparkly black sports bra, red boy shorts, red grappling gloves, bandages wrapped around her wrist, black socks, and white sneakers.

I also added the medal for brownie points. 

Mikan Tsumiki

Please stop sexualizing Mikan and let her look like an actual nurse. I gave her a ponytail because long hair will get in the way of her work. I decided to dress her in a pink shirt with teddy bear and star designs on it, baggy light blue pants, and the white shoes from her canon design. She also wears a medical mask, a nurse hat, and carries around a bag with medical supplies. She also has bandages wrapped around her due to her past.

That’s all folks!

Reblogs > Likes

Please respect the pronouns I use for certain characters!

[whatstheproblembaby]

Fic: Remember Me

Shelagh is a little confused when she wakes up at Nonnatus House, but everything will be all right when Patrick comes for her, won't it?

PG, ~2170 words, hurt/comfort out the ASS.

Read here on AO3!

She didn’t want to, but Shelagh eventually succumbed to the force of her waking mind. Rolling over, she stretched out an arm toward where Patrick should be, looking forward to a quick morning cuddle before they had to get up and tend to their children and patients.

Instead, her arm flopped over the edge of the bed, her fingers clipping the nightstand.

“Wha-” she grunted, vocal cords not quite awake yet. “Patrick?”

Shelagh blinked, and took in-

“Nonnatus?”

She sat up and fished her glasses off the nightstand, thinking that clearing her vision might also help clear her mind. She thought she had fallen asleep in her own bed last night, but she did have to stay over at Nonnatus sometimes if Patrick had a late, last minute call and couldn’t drive her home from the surgery. Perhaps she had just gotten mixed up.

Less explainable, though, was the resistance she met when she tried to slide her glasses over her ears.

“Who gave me a cap?” Shelagh asked as though someone was there to answer her. She patted her hands over her head, feeling the still-familiar white fabric in confusion, then looked down to take in the rest of her attire. “And a nightgown?”

She appreciated the kindness, since sleeping in either her day dress or her nurse’s uniform would have left her wrinkled and uncomfortable, but the fit of the pajamas was perplexing. The nightgown was visually identical to the ones the sisters wore, which made sense. They each had two, so any one of them could have lent her their spare. All of the sisters were slightly taller than she was, though - so how could she feel her feet poking past the hem to press against the sheets? The skirt wasn’t rucked up any higher than it should be.

Shelagh decided not to question it and turned on the lamp before standing up and padding over to the wardrobe. It would be too informal to take breakfast in her borrowed pajamas regardless of how they fit, not to mention the awkwardness she would feel at being garbed like a religious sister once more, even if no one else would think much of it.

“Most of them weren’t even here when I was Sister Bernadette,” she muttered. Shelagh didn’t make a regular habit of talking to herself aloud, but she suddenly wanted the comfort of an expected voice, even if it was just her own. “They wouldn’t know it was...inappropriate. Still, I’d rather be in my own dress and ready to get on with the day when Patrick arrives for me.”

She pulled open the wardrobe door and had to blink several times. In a daze, she shut the doors, counted to five silently, and reopened them.

The contents were the same.

“Habits?” Shelagh said, her accent thickening somewhat in shock. “Why ever-”

A light rap on her door interrupted her question. “Sister? Are you coming to Lauds?”

“I think you have the wrong room,” Shelagh said as she made her way over to let Sister Hilda in. “I’m always happy to attend Lauds with you, of course, but I’m no longer a religious sister. Oh, were you aware that I was once-”

“No longer?” Sister Hilda cut in, a bemused smile on her face. “Sister, are you feeling quite the thing?”

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me Sister. I renounced my vows ages ago.” Shelagh suddenly felt dizzy. Between the wardrobe full of someone else’s clothes and Sister Hilda’s insistence on using the wrong title...it was overwhelming so early in the morning.

Sister Hilda took Shelagh firmly by the upper arms and guided her so they were sitting side by side on the bed. “Sis- pardon.” She cleared her throat when Shelagh glared at her attempt to use the title yet again. “You are scaring me. Are you sure that headache you had at supper last night has gone away?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Shelagh said, agitated. “And I did not have a headache at supper last night, which I ate, by the way, with my own husband and children!”

“With your - that’s quite enough,” Sister Hilda said. She pushed herself forcefully off the bed before chivvying Shelagh just as emphatically back into lying down. “I’m calling Doctor. I don’t know if you’re feverish or somehow sustained a head injury after Compline, but you are not in your right mind, Sister Bernadette. You will stay here until the doctor can have a look at you. Sister Frances can lead Lauds.”

Shelagh wasn’t sure which part of that speech she wanted to rebut first, but she finally spluttered out “Wh-what about Sister Julienne?” just before Sister Hilda exited the room.

“Mother Julienne is visiting the Hope Clinic in South Africa, as you well know!” The door closed decisively behind Sister Hilda.

“Mother Julienne?” Shelagh echoed. “Oh, what in the world is going on?”

While she was of the mind to flout Sister Hilda’s orders on principle, Shelagh thought she may as well wait there. One way or another, she would get to see Patrick, and she couldn’t exactly wait in the entrance hall in her nightie.

“Wouldn’t that be a shock, though?” she said, a mischievous smile growing on her face as she imagined the look on Patrick’s. She chuckled softly as the door opened again.

“Well, I’m glad you’re laughing, Sister,” Patrick said as he bustled in with Sister Hilda hot on his heels. “One of us should be in a good mood this morning.”

“Oh, Patrick, not you, too!” Shelagh said, shaking her head at his incorrect title for her. “Did Sister Hilda not tell you it was me she’s worried about?”

“You see?” Sister Hilda said, gesturing at her. “Something’s wrong.”

“Clearly,” Patrick said. Shelagh frowned as he hooked his stethoscope over his neck and dug a thermometer out of his bag. “You were right to call me.”

“Really, Patrick, that’s enough,” Shelagh said, moving to swing herself out of bed. “The children will be late for school if we mess about with this sad attempt at a comedy show any longer.”

“Sister, it’s incredibly unprofessional for you to keep calling me by my first name,” Patrick said, catching Shelagh by the arm to keep her in place. As he popped the thermometer into her mouth, he sat next to her on the bed and continued, “And honestly, I was unaware you even knew my first name. Is it in Mother Julienne’s old files somewhere?”

Shelagh’s mouth gaped, the thermometer falling into her lap. “Wh - of course I know your first name. You’re my husband, in case you’ve forgotten!”

Sister Hilda stepped forward, aghast. “Sister! I realize you likely don’t know what you’re saying, but that is beyond the pale! Dr. Turner would never behave so inappropriately toward a woman of God.”

“It’s all right, Sister, I’m not offended,” Patrick said as he pressed a hand clinically to Shelagh’s forehead. She wanted to reach up and cling on, reassure herself, but the lack of affection in Patrick’s eyes stopped her cold. “She’s not feverish. You’re sure she didn’t hit her head yesterday?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Where are the children?” Shelagh interjected. She tried to keep the panic she was feeling out of her voice - Sister Hilda and Patrick didn’t need any more reasons to think she was mentally unwell. “May? Angela? Teddy? Did you leave them with Timothy?”

Patrick recoiled as though she had slapped him. It was Sister Hilda who responded, very softly.

“Dr. Turner’s son died of polio in 1958. You were still in the sanatorium, Sister - do you remember? I can ask Nurse Franklin for more details if it would help.”

“I...I….” The gravity of what Sister Hilda was saying struck her, and Shelagh couldn’t find words, couldn’t find air. She started crying, gentle tears quickly giving way to great, painful heaves that almost drowned out the sound of Patrick instructing Sister Hilda to call an ambulance and the Linchmere over her head. “No, please...Patrick! Don’t - I’m not-”

Her vision started fluttering, and everything went black.

__________________________

Patrick climbed the dark stairs slowly, exhausted after assisting with a long but ultimately rewarding delivery of a new mother of twins. He loosened his tie as he quietly entered his room, not wanting to wake-

“Shelagh!”

His wife was thrashing and sobbing on her side of the bed, her breath coming in frantic gasps between soft cries of “No - Patrick, no!”

“Shelagh, my love, I’m right here,” Patrick said, crossing the room in an instant to drop down beside her on the mattress and start rubbing her back. “I’m right here, wake up.”

“Patrick?” Shelagh’s fitful movements eased ever so slightly, her head tilting toward the sound of his voice.

“Open your eyes, darling, I’m here,” Patrick coaxed. He gently encouraged her to turn onto her other side, facing him, and as she rolled, her eyes opened.

The look of relief and fear that mingled on her face as she came back to consciousness caused him physical pain in his chest.

“Oh...oh, Patrick,” she said, tears welling in her eyes as she sat up. “Tell me you know who I am.”

“What? Shelagh, you’re my wife, of course I know who you are,” he replied, confused.

She threw herself into his arms almost before he had finished his sentence. “Thank God. Thank God.”

Patrick reached out quickly to turn on the bedside lamp before settling against the headboard and pulling Shelagh firmly into his lap. He ran a hand up and down her back soothingly, waiting until her tears calmed enough that she should be able to speak.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was - oh, it was the worst nightmare,” Shelagh said. She made to slide out of his lap, but he tightened his grip, only allowing her to shift so she was sitting sideways rather than facing him. He handed her the hankie from his trouser pocket so she could wipe her eyes as she continued, “I woke up and I was at Nonnatus House, which was just unusual, but then Sister Hilda started insisting that I was still a sister, and Sister Julienne was actually Mother Julienne and away in South Africa, and you...you….”

She broke off to blow her nose.

“You came to examine me after Sister Hilda called...and you didn’t believe me either. You were going to call the Linchmere. But even worse than that….our children. Timothy.”

“No one believed you about them, either,” Patrick guessed, pressing a kiss to the side of Shelagh’s head when her flinch informed him he was right. “But Tim?”

“In my dream, he didn’t survive polio. Oh, Patrick,” Shelagh sobbed out, tucking her head into the juncture of Patrick’s neck and shoulder.

“Shhh....shhhh, darling,” Patrick said. He removed her headscarf so he could stroke her hair, her back, as the collar of his shirt got progressively wetter. “It was terrible, but it was only a dream. Timothy and the little ones are here. I’m here, and I know you, and I love you.”

After a few long moments, he felt Shelagh’s cries ease, and the vise around his own heart loosened too.

“I’m sorry,” she said, emerging from his neck. “I don’t mean to carry on over a dream.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Patrick said fiercely. “Your emotions aren’t any less real because they came from a nightmare. What you can do for me, though, is get up and rinse your face. I’ll make everything comfortable for when you’re done.”

Shelagh looked a little reticent as she stood, but she did make her way to the lavatory to wash up. Patrick scrambled to get into his pajamas, turn down the bed, and get the pillows fluffed and rearranged before she returned.

“That does feel better,” she admitted as she reappeared. “Thank you, dearest.”

“All in a day’s work,” Patrick teased gently, lounging on his back. His smile grew as one bloomed hesitantly on her face. “Now come here.”

Shelagh snagged her headscarf from where he’d left it on her pillow and tied it on before crawling into bed and snuggling close. Patrick anchored one arm firmly around her back and brought the other up to stroke the arm she had draped over his chest.

“This is already better than how I fell asleep before,” Shelagh said, voice muzzy.

“As it should be.” Patrick tilted Shelagh’s head up just long enough to kiss her softly, smiling against her mouth at her sleepily inept attempts to kiss him back. “Rest, love. There will be no more nightmares tonight.”

Shelagh’s head fell lightly against his shoulder, and Patrick dipped his to rest it on her crown. He had relied on the sound of Shelagh’s heartbeat and the warmth of her body to sleep when his memories of Northfield and the war had overwhelmed him, and he could only hope the same would be true for her now.

In the morning, she informed him that it was.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 5 [18+/NSFW]

<- Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 ->

Summary: After your not-boyfriend, Frederick Chilton, turns out to be not-dead, you hope you can elevate your status from fuckbuddies. Maybe be honest about how you feel? But honesty is haaard... especially when he is more closed-off than ever.

(This is probably my favorite chapter. It has actual smut. And ridiculous idiots, and fluuuuuuuff)

5,075 words

After Hannibal fled, leaving a bloodbath in his wake, Dr. Frederick Chilton returned to the land of the living and to administrating his psychiatric hospital as if he had simply been away on vacation.

Likewise, your relationship resumed where it had left off. You thought things would be different now—that you would be more honest with your feelings, and he might open up, too—but nothing changed, except for the things that changed in a direction you didn’t like.

“Oh, Doctor Chilton, I need help,” you purred, leaning seductively against the doorway of his office. He sat up rigidly in his leather chair and stammered a greeting with failed nonchalance.

Since his return, his voice shot up an octave whenever you walked in the room. He was like a shy teenager with his first crush, and you could only assume he was re-learning how to exist in the world after trauma. What else would it be?

Slinking up to his desk, you unfastened the top buttons of your shirt. He swallowed, hungry, but not immediately pouncing upon you with a lewd promise growled in your ear and a firm grasp on your hip like he used to do. New reserves of insecurity crouched beneath his skin like lions hidden in tall grass. It broke your heart to see that timidity in his eyes, but it was all incentive for you to work harder to relax him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have insurance, doctor,” you pouted, pushing aside a stack of papers to sit on his desk. “And mental health care is prohibitively costly because of a broken for-profit system, leaving the most vulnerable populations without access…” you put an emphasis on vulnerable, biting your lip.

He quirked a brow. “Your sexy-talk needs work.” 

“Oh, doctor,” you moaned, sliding off the desk and straddling his lap to pull at his tie. “Until we get universal healthcare”—you brought the end of his orange tie up to your mouth and bit it, gazing coquettishly into his eyes—“surely there’shh some ofther way I can pay you…” you lisped, mouth stuffed full of tie. 

He never knew it was possible to laugh, be annoyed, and aroused at the same time, but you were always teaching him new things. 

“That would be a severe ethics violation,” he said sternly, brows lowered, but clearly teasing. You snorted. 

It was impossible to remain self-conscious around someone flirting so badly. His hesitation melted away as he turned your awkward role-play around on you, so you moved on to phase two. Sinking to your knees at the foot of his chair, half under his desk, you smoothed the fabric of his pants over his lap, rubbing his inner thighs to coax his legs open and position yourself between them.

He drew in a sharp breath, but disguised it as a gasp of offense. “This is highly inappropriate. I am going to have to ask you to leave my office. Future visits will be attended by a nurse to ensure proper conduct, or I can refer you to another psychiatrist,” he said in a dry monotone, fully committed to playing hard-to-get. You growled in annoyance at him in between bursts of laughter. He patted your head patronizingly. “Now, now, I am a magnanimous doctor. I am not angry with you as a patient for this behavioral outburst… just disappointed.”

You licked your lips. Challenge accepted. You ran your hands over the front of his dress pants until you found the outline of his cock, and stroked it through the fabric, arching your back while giving him your best please-fuck-me look. He swallowed.

Unzipping the fly, you reached into the warmth of his pants, searching through a bed of curled hairs until you found his cock and drew it out to admire. The skin was velvety and soft, pulsing with heat as you gave it a few slow strokes, watching it grow larger and more firm. You loved it at its full arousal, when it took its sculptural form and shape with veins running up the underside of the shaft, when the foreskin pulled back and the domed pink head stood out, ready to plunge itself into you. 

God, you loved his cock. 

“On the other hand,” he quickly changed his mind, “perhaps I require a demonstration of this ‘alternative payment.’ For the sake of due diligence.” 

Your brought your tongue to its head and gave a teasing lick, tasting the salt of his precum, then kissed it like you would kiss his lips. You pecked a series of kisses down the length of his shaft until you were buried in his neatly trimmed curls, lips brushing the wrinkled skin of his balls, then flattened your tongue against his cock and traced a torturously slow wet line from the base to the tip. 

“I confess... you are my most attractive patient,” he said in a shaky, staggering breath, one side of his lips quirking upward. His chest was rising and falling rapidly now. He wanted more. “That is very good.” Not content with you stopping to look up at him, his hand cradled the back of your head, pushing you down and urging you to continue. “But I will need more payment than that.”  

Taking his entire thick cock in your mouth, you slid down it until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering a little as you adjusted to having your throat stuffed full of him, jaw forced open wide. His manicured fingers curled into your hair, gently petting you. “Easy,” he soothed. 

It was nice sucking the dick of someone as fastidiously clean as Frederick Chilton. You always appreciated that as you began, moving slowly up his shaft until your lips were only closed around the swollen head, licking it gently, then faster until you felt his fingers tighten. He always tasted faintly of soap and very little else. His sedentary lifestyle helped as well; he was never running around and building up a nasty sweat. It was a pleasant little bonus to the whole affair. His cock was the most delicious you’d ever had.

Your head bobbed up and down in his lap with renewed vigor, building a rhythm with his hand gently guiding you to his preference (which you followed to please him, and deviated from to get a reaction). You loved watching his face—his breathing as he struggled to control it, the way his mouth twitched, and his eyes watched you work. That desperate little whine in his throat when you broke his rhythm, which grew into a low moan he tried to suppress when you started a new one.

He gave you instructions: slower, faster, use your tongue... just like that. Good. You twisted, and sucked, and pumped his base with your hands, gliding your tongue along the underside of his cock until the exquisite moment when he broke down, and stopped trying to keep his breathing (and noises) under control. By the end, he was a shaking mess mess, barely able to stammer out “k-keep going!” You loved to watch the moment he surrendered to you completely, his fingers digging into your scalp as his hips jerked helplessly, and his mouth falling open as he released into you, moaning and gasping so loudly the staff were sure to hear. 

You kept him buried in your mouth as his hot seed spilled on your tongue, swallowing every drop until his muscles stopped their convulsions, and you licked his cockhead clean. Cleaning up was a pain in the ass otherwise (and Frederick might implode if any got on his dress pants), but also, his largely vegetarian diet made him taste exceptionally sweet. You smiled up at him and ran your tongue over your lips as he panted, a sheen of sweat on his brow. 

As he was coming down, the phone on his desk rang, and naturally, the ambitious jerk answered it without so much as a thank you, or even putting his dick away. Orgasm complete: never mind you, back to work. Based on his half of the conversation, it sounded important—something about a publishing deal for a book he writing on Hannibal the Cannibal. The tone of his voice took on that haughty smarter-than-you air as the topic turned to intellectual property rights, and he was clearly driving for more money. So you started sucking his overstimulated dick. He gasped loudly into the receiver, and stared down at you in horror as he tried to cover for it. “I apologize. A bee got into my office, and I have to swat it.” He pushed you off his lap, eyes sparking like choppy waves on a windy sea.

“That was rude,” he growled when he got off the phone, a somewhat deranged smile slanting up one side of his face. He bent you over the desk and slapped your ass, whispering promises into your ear of how he would pay you back later.

You knew he would keep his promises. Each one. He had a lot more aggression to work out lately, and while you weren’t its target, a good hard fuck always made him feel better. You knew when you went to his house tonight you were guaranteed to have a lot of fun in a lot of positions—but you also knew when you were done, he would usher you out with some excuse for why you could’t stay.

That was the biggest, and worst, change. You thought the incident would bring you closer, but he hadn’t let you spend one night with him since the day he was shot.

It made you feel cheap.

Worse, it meant you were drifting apart. He used to be grateful (though he would never admit it) that you were there for the nightmares. When he woke up shaking he would turn to hold you, crushing you against his chest like a teddy until the shaking stopped, and he drifted back to sleep still holding you tight. You would have thought he would need you there more than ever, now. Something made him stop trusting you.

  *****

“Did I do something wrong?”

You were in the cramped passenger seat of his midlife-crisis Porsche cabriolet as he drove you home yet again, and a silence had fallen over him. It was a warm spring night with beautiful stars in the breeze above you glowing their brightest, albeit faded amid the glow of Baltimore’s city lights.

“Not at all. I am simply setting healthy boundaries, darling. I begin to suspect you only like me for the amenities.”

His house was new—he did not want to move back into the place he had found Abel Gideon dissected, and Hannibal had slaughtered and arranged two FBI agents for display—and even more grandiose than the last. All of the staircases were spiral for some unfathomable reason (because it was fancier), and it contained an entire gym, pool, gourmet kitchen, and a television the size of an actual movie theater screen. The bath had hot-tub jets.

Admittedly, it was nice staying there. It made you feel like someone who’d seen the inside of a country club. But his answer was complete bullshit.

“You know I don’t care about all your fancy crap,” you groaned.

“Do I? You told me you only stayed the night because my house was nice, and you enjoyed my coffee.”

Ouch. OK. Called out. “Obviously I was lying! I only like your stuff because it’s part of who you are—I can’t imagine you not being shamelessly bourgeoisie—not because I want a sugar daddy. If that’s what you’re worried about… why don’t we stay at my apartment?”

The thought never crossed his mind that you might call his bluff. He was horror-stricken.

“At your little… chalet?” he said like he was poking a dead bug with the end of a stick.

“It’s an apartment.”

Trapped by his own logic, instead of dropping you at your front door, Frederick got out and hobbled up the narrow staircase with you.

“My god, what is this? For ants?”

“It’s called a full bed, Frederick, and there’s plenty of room,” you answered with a little annoyance creeping into your voice. You knew he was prissy, but from the moment he set foot in your two-bedroom (which you could barely afford) he had been acting like he was in a decrepit slum. It was hilarious, actually, how living like a normal human being made him squirm.

He flopped down into the middle of the mattress, a sullen expression on his face like a toddler in a time-out. “You cannot expect me to sleep on this prison cot.”

“Move over,” you nudged him, crawling onto the covers beside him. “There’s plenty of room if we cuddle.”

He didn’t look interested in cuddling at the moment, however. He stared up at the ceiling like he was about to explode. You smiled. Even at his bitchiest and sulkiest, there was no one else you would rather spend time with. He tugged at your heartstrings. You admired his profile—his square brow that could express so much emotion (right now: petulance), the new scar on his cheek that was clearly the source of some embarrassment to him (though you thought it looked rugged), the stubble down his jaw with the slightest hint of grey. He was just so handsome.

Seeing his scar this close up was rare, as he always tried to keep you on his right side whenever you were seated or laying next to each other. You rested your chin on your arm and smiled at him, but he didn't smile back, or even glance over. He just stared at the ceiling like you weren’t even there. You waggled your eyebrows suggestively, hoping to get a laugh (or an irate glare that was secretly a laugh).

No response at all. He was moody.

You rolled on your side to cuddle him, intent on kissing that scar, but when your hands touched his chest, he flinched, recoiling with a surprised yelp.

That was the last straw. His nostrils flared and eyes widened as if this was the gravest indignity he had ever suffered. He jumped up from the bed frantically saying, “I have to go.”

And he did. Just like that.

You tried not to cry. He was being a jerk. He was going through post-traumatic stress. He just needed space, and it wasn’t your fault, you said, but you counted up all of the ways it was your fault anyway.

You were always so blunt and rude with him. As much as he deserved it when he was being officious, exploitative, surly, or generally the poster child for “check your privilege,” he probably didn’t want to be around someone who called him out all the time. It was a miracle he tolerated you at all. You’d gone easier on him since he returned from the dead, but maybe he simply didn’t want a rude fuckbuddy anymore.

You decided you wouldn’t bother him. He needed space, and you constantly showing up at his office and calling his house wasn’t helping, and it obviously wasn’t what he wanted.

Not three days went by before he called wondering where you had been. You could hear him trying to hide the worry in his voice, and the relief when you told him you were fine, and not angry. He wanted to see you. Not just the usual tryst, either: he wanted to take you out for dinner.

You had no idea what was going on.

  *****

Chilton was terrified when you stopped calling him. His greatest fear hit him deeper than a scalpel—that you were dead. Hannibal was back from wherever it was he went, and he was killing off everyone close to his enemies. Or any other of hundreds of killers. When it was clear that nothing horrible had happened to you, and you were, in fact, alive, he realized his second greatest fear—he had fucked up and finally driven you away.

A few of his exes used to give him the cold shoulder when he had committed some error, like failing to spoil them with gifts or expensive dinners, or pretending to forget their name. Maybe you, too, were punishing him, and he still had a chance to win you back. It seemed very likely that you wanted more from him than just sex. He had been selfish and unreciprocal with you—though outwardly, you never asked for anything else, except to stay the night. But he could never do that, not anymore.

Instead, pampering you at a Michelin-star restaurant seemed like a good start.

  *****

Dinner with Chilton that night made it clear why you had never gone out on a proper date with him before. His world was not your world.

As you walked in, you were fairly sure the maître d' glared at you for wearing what you considered your nicest outfit—but given that your typical dinner was boxed mac n’ cheese in your underwear, your best may not have been up to standard.

Frederick was at the bar waiting for you, severely out-dressing you in a formal black suit and dazzlingly contrasting tie, but didn’t make any underhanded comments on your attire. He crossed the room to meet you, flashing that used-car-salesman smile he hadn’t used on you since the first time you met, and offered his elbow in a revoltingly genteel fashion. It was like he was a stranger.

The the maître d’hôtel guided you to your reserved table, and Frederick set his cane to the side, sat, and crossed his legs. You felt like you were being interviewed. Was this an interview? From an inner pocket of his suit jacket, he produced and handed you a silver-inlaid pen that cost more than your rent.

“I don’t want this.” You left it sitting on the white tablecloth and stared at it like an alien artifact, trying to figure out what made it better than a two-dollar pen from the drugstore. Maybe he could still return it.

He got flustered, blinking in confusion, then held his chin up haughtily, jaw clenched. “No accounting for taste, then.”

You groaned. For some reason he wasn’t pretending to be wounded this time, he actually felt rejected. Over a stupid overpriced pen. “Fine! I’ll take it if it’ll make you feel better,” you caved in, snatching it off the table. “But if we break up, I’m pawning this.”

His mouth curled, primed to make a retort, but then went slack.

Was he thinking of breaking up?

Was that what dinner was about? That’s right—that trick of breaking up in a public space so you won’t cry and make a scene. It would explain why he’d been acting so nervous and distant lately. Why else would he suddenly want to take you out?

An awkward silence fell over the table. You wished this place had paper napkins you could stress-doodle on with your stupid new pen. Was it a breakup gift? Were breakup gifts a thing?

The waiter blessedly interrupted to take your orders, which Chilton gently assisted you with because everything was in French, the menu did not have pictures, and none of it appeared to be mac n’ cheese. He also ordered an entire bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild for the table, which you divined from the slight puffing out of his chest was meant to impress you.

When it didn’t, things went back to being sulky and awkward. By the time the bread arrived at the table, he had already downed a glass, and reached to pour himself another.

Instead of grabbing the open bottle, he completely misjudged the distance and knocked it on its side with a string of swears. Dark red liquid poured out onto the table. Acting quickly, you reached to pick it up, but collided with Chilton who was also trying to salvage the bottle, and succeeded only in batting it toward him where a puddle of wine began overflowing over the edge onto his suit.

Puddle! Spilling! You needed to mop up the excess quickly! You grabbed slices of baguette and started soaking it up.

“Why are you using bread when there are napkins for this?” Chilton hissed.

“I don’t know! You’re the dumbass who knocked over the Roth IRA Burgundy.”

His eyes bulged from his skull. “Rothschild! Bordeaux! And it wasn’t that bad until you flung it at me!”

“Do you want to help, or do you want to continue berating me?”

“I am more than capable of doing both!” he cried, grabbing a napkin and righting the bottle.

The table was a complete disaster. Wine even got all over your stupid fancy pen, which matched the stupid fancy pen in his office. Oh. That was sort of sweet, actually. As you wiped it dry, you noticed it had your name inscribed around one of the silver rings.

The waiter hurried over to assist, and Chilton looked positively mortified.

“Sorry,” you shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little clumsy.”

After much fussing and cleaning was finished, Chilton sat back in his chair, eyes boring into you. He swallowed.

“Why did you...?”

“They already think I’m a mess, this way they’ll at least let you back in here.”

“Well, that is very…” a dark blush crept up his neck from under his collar. “You didn’t have to do that"

You reached your hand across the fresh tablecloth, and he took it, rubbing soft circles in the flesh between your thumb and forefinger. (It was a testament to your familiarity that the massive, ostentatious gold ring he always wore no longer felt in the way when you held his hand.) His eyes lingered on you, and the blush continued working its way up to his face.

Things felt open enough to quietly ask, “So, what is all this, anyway? You’ve never wanted to take me out before.”

“I assumed you wanted something from me; you have been ignoring me,” he bristled slightly at your density. “If this is not it, then what?”

You blinked. He really thought you’d been holding out on him to… get something? And the way his voice strained when he asked, “then what?” told you he would do whatever it was you requested.

You shook your head at the tablecloth and squeezed his hand. “The way you left the other day, I assumed you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Oh.” The brilliant psychiatrist hadn’t thought of that.

He didn’t apologize, and you knew he never would (about anything—it was one of the reasons so many people wanted to punch him), but his demeanor softened and any resentment you’d been holding onto faded with his dumbfounded expression.

“So.” You cleared your throat. “How’s… uh, psychiatry?”

“Well, most daily therapy sessions I have delegated to focus on writing…” He launched into a mundane description of his work, and you just… talked. Like a normal couple. It was strange in its ordinariness, but it was nice to not have your entire interaction revolve around getting dick. It made going back to his mansion after dinner and getting dick even more meaningful. You were sure this time he would let you stay.

When he tried to send you away again, you had had enough.

  *****

“I don’t understand, what changed?” you asked a little too brusquely and immediately regretted it. “I know you need space,” you breathed out in a more understanding tone, “but I need to know where we stand… Do you want to break up with me?”

He froze in the middle of throwing a shirt on over his bare chest and dropped it back into the dresser, turning to gawk at you with shocked-wide eyes. “What? No! Of course not.”

That was a relief at least. “Then why won’t you let me stay?”

He was far too exposed: his abdominal scar still prominently pointing up to his blaze of brown chest hair, and you, ambushing him in his own bedroom. “You cannot let it go, can you? You want to know?!” he snapped, limping resentfully across the room. He had reached a breaking point. “It’s because I cannot sleep with the prosthetics in.”

“The...” your brain crashed and you frantically clicked enter on the reboot screen, “...prosthetics…?”

He scowled. “Did you believe the bullet passed neatly through the copious empty space in my skull without causing any collateral damage? That this little scar is the sum total of my injury?”

Of course. You hadn’t even considered that there was more to his near-fatal shooting than what you saw on the surface. It was breathtakingly ignorant now that you thought about it. He was shot. In the head. He spent weeks at an expensive medical resort where they could perform all kinds of reconstructive miracles, and he let you believe he was dead until they had finished whatever it was they were fixing.

“Show me.”

His face twitched. “You do not want to know.”

“I do.”

“Then I do not wish you to know.”

“Why?”

Emotion boiled under his face, but he breathed in through his nose and kept his outward composition calm, controlled. “It would change the way you see me. Every time you look at me, I do not want you to see that.”

You crossed the room to him. Gently, you put your hand on his arm, and slowly rubbed up and down. His breathing was shallow, controlled but barely. He didn’t push you away. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, listening to his pulse whispering a swift beat. “I just want to know you, Frederick. Please.”

  *****

Doctors had seen it. That was by necessity: he had paid for the best cosmetic prosthetics available in the country to look exactly like his old self, with the exception of the scar on his left cheek which could never be fully hidden.

He had shown it to Mason Verger, but that, too, was different—a mutual display of their motivations for revenge. It was almost a contest to see who was the more disgusting, the most wronged.

You would not be the first to see his face, but you were the first whom he cared about disgusting. The first whom he cared about. He did not want to see you recoil from him in shock. He did not want to lose you. He did not want you to see the darkness hanging over him.

He acquiesced, but refused to make a circus display of taking his teeth out in front of you, and vanished into the master bathroom for a long time. As you waited, you rehearsed not reacting—not showing a hint of shock that would make him regret the choice to let you in—yet as each minute ticked by, you grew more and more anxious.

The door opened.

“Jesus fuck.”

His lower eyelid sagged without the support of a massive chunk of facial bone holding it in place, and the eye within was the milky blue-white of a fish preserved in formaldehyde. The skin of his cheek sagged over half a mouth of missing teeth, and the left corner of his lip hung slightly too loose.

“Eloquent as always,” he said, adding some bite to the word. He hoped you knew what a jerk you were.

You rushed in to hold him, and he stiffened, looking away. “Oh, your eye,” you whined. He must have been completely blind in it, but he masked it so well you never noticed. He flinched as you touched his face.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

You pulled your hand back and searched his expression. “Do you want me to stop?”

He thought about it, and huffed, rolling one eye. You were being so cute, and at least not fleeing in terror. He stuck his chin out. “Go ahead. Do what you want.”

With a sour frown, he let you explore his skin with your fingertips, finding scars and hollow cavities where bone was supposed to be. “You’re missing… oh, god, it must have shattered the maxillary bone, and,” you felt farther back, continuing to find hollow gaps. “Oh god, baby…”

“Do not pity me, it is unbecoming.”

“Heh,” you breathed, slyly sliding your hands up over his shoulders and arcing them loosely around the back of his neck. “I thought you didn’t care about my motivations,” you said, languidly drawing out each vowel.

That earned an irritated look, finally meeting your gaze. You grinned back.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip.

You kissed him all along the sagging side of his mouth, pressing your lips to every new contour and texture. A few worried noises escaped his throat, along with half-formed words of caution of what you might not want to kiss, but they were quickly swallowed by groans of pleasure as you worshiped his mouth, reveling in each new discovery. All his imperfections were perfect, and you wanted him to feel that in every touch, filling each glowing breath with all the love and acceptance in your heart.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, but it itches.”

“I hate itches.”

“As do I,” he breathed.

You kissed him again, this time his tongue danced along your lips to taste you. It darted between your teeth, curling around your tongue as his strong hands snaked around the back of your head, pulling you harder into the kiss. He grunted, teeth clashing with yours as your lips interlocked with feral passion, consuming each other until your lips were bruised and you had to break away, breathless and panting.

“I’m so glad you're alive,” you smiled, trying not to let tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “You came back to me. You’re amazing, you know that? What you can survive.”

His chest puffed out a little. He was amazing, wasn’t he? But when he spoke again, it was sullen.

“I did not want you to see what a monster I’ve become.”

You shook your head. “You’re still beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I’m sorry it happened, but you know I’m going to love you no matter what…” You trailed off as a word snagged in your throat. Did you just say…

“You love me?”

Dry. Your throat suddenly felt drier than sandpaper, and swallowing didn’t fix it. You weren’t supposed to admit that to him. He was going to tease you, to twist it around somehow to use against you—

“I love you, too.”

[casgirlsam]

spn 15.15 thoughts

i wrote these while watching spn east coast and posted them in a twitter thread.... so enjoy a crosspost!

AMARA IS BACK I LOVE HER

ITS DOCTOR SEXY NOW PASTOR SEXY OMG AND HES WAY SEXIER THAN LAST TIME WE SAW HIM

“We have rules” “yes and we also have spirit” oooh tie-in to the ending?

“Chuck said amara loves keno” “i thought he was joking” “hes not that funny” chuck somewhere: HEY

“Mrs butters what?” cas and his husband look of doneness

“Can we wear matching ties? :D” jack imma need you to tone down the cute

HE HAS A TALKING TEDDY I--

“It says i need a parent or guardian’s permission” “you have my permission” “*at fb sign up page* he gave me permission” jack sweetie bb ily

Cas: i swear to my murderous father if you hang up on me one more time, dean humanity winchester--

“Where can i find the koolaid? :D” jack you’re too cute bb

“New guy’s hot” i just got all mom just now lmao

“I have more dads than most” jack said i have 3 dads

Dr sexy is just surrounded by queer men and hey i mean cant blame them

AMARA IS BACK. and in a pink trench coat that we’ve been asking for

shes like that romantic rival in Asian dramas where they know it's hopeless but they cant help but flirt and care about the protagonist anyway

“I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. Then something changed. I found a family. I became a father. And i rediscovered my faith. Who i am.” CAS T-T

“We’re like god’s fingers” so… when i have sex with someone…. *cringe*

As a native pennsylvanian, im insulted by that pathetic plate of pierogies

Dean asking amara why she brought his mother back--

“I wanted you to see that mary was a person. that she was more than the myth from your childhood. that she was complex” OMFG

“I thought having her back would release you from your anger. But i guess i failed at that” “youre damn right”

Oooh it was the kid

“Everyone keeps trying to help me. And who are you? Just a scared little boy trying to make his daddies happy” i mean she’s not wrong also once again 📢JACK HAS 3 DADS

Cas using his dwindling power to help

OH I GOT WRAPPED UP IN CAS BEING BACK AND JACK BEING CUTE THAT I FORGOT THAT CAS HAS A PHOTO OF HIM FROM TOMBSTONE Dean’s thirst for his husband knows no bounds that he'll even take a pic of cas in a cowboy hat on a case

Also forgot to mention that my queen rowena is all “nah we’re not doin demon deals. Humans die when they die and that’s final”

I KNEW THERE WAS A CATCH THERE ALWAYS IS

“Dont tell sam and dean” “and why not?” “because they won’t understand. This is the only way they’ll forgive me”

ten bucks says next week will be like: cas: jack will die when he defeats amara and chuck jack: cas! i can't believe you! and after i kept your secret about your deal with the empty! sam: dean: YOUR WHAT

also this is a thought i saw in my server but interesting that pastor sexy’s daughter said “we used to date. sort of. we use to watch movies together.” they were together even tho it was never said out loud. mmmm destiel mirrors thank you davy

fucking loved this episode and jack continues to be my nougat son

[lucy-268]

Road Trip

A/N - This is the fourth installment of my chronological story. You can find the first three installments on my masterlist; if you haven’t read them, you probably won’t be lost. This takes place the day after I Would Not Change a Thing

A/N 2 - I’m incorporating a prompt provided by @rookie-ramsey​ (11. “You look adorable.”) from this prompt list here. Thank you to @openheart12​ for helping me pick the song on the radio. Thank you to @oofchoices​ for my awesome moodboard!

Disclaimer: Most of the characters belong to PB

Warnings: I don’t think there are any here

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 2,347 (this was longer that I thought it was going to be!)

“Good morning.”

Charley jumped at the greeting and turned to see Sienna leaning against the counter. “Good morning yourself.”

“What are you doing?”

Charley looked down at the pan on the stove. “Making breakfast?”

“You sound unsure,” Sienna’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You normally don’t bother cooking before you go to work.”

“I’m off today.”

Sienna’s eyes widened. “Two days in a row?”

“Yeah. June needed next Wednesday off, so Ethan asked me if I’d mind switching with her.” Charley smiled at her roommate. “Since I have time, I figured I’d fix everyone breakfast.” She pulled out two pans of muffins as the timer went off.

“Thanks, Charley. I’m going to go shower.” Sienna turned away.

Later, after her roommates had left for their hospitals, Charley hurried to shower herself. She was thinking she should have just stayed in her room until everyone had gone; they were so concerned about what she was going to do on her bonus day off. She couldn’t really say she was spending the day with Ethan and his dad.

Drying her hair, she decided to let it hang loose around her shoulders. She dressed quickly, and packed up the remaining muffins and the cookies she baked after everyone had left. She had just finished when there was a knock at the door.

Charley’s breath caught as she opened the door to see Ethan dressed casually. She did love him in his dress slacks and tie, or anything, or nothing at all, when she dared to think about it, but the man did fill out a pair of jeans nicely.

By the time her eyes traveled up to his, Ethan had a smirk on his face. “Good morning.”

“It is good, and getting better by the minute.” She stepped aside to let him in. “I baked muffins and cookies this morning for the trip.”

“You didn’t need to, but thank you.” Ethan looked in the basket. “Banana, and is that almond?”

“Cherry almond, actually. I was afraid Elijah was going to eat all of them. It was a new recipe and it was a hit.”

As they were leaving Ethan pulled her bracelet out of his pocket. “Before I forget.”

Charley looked at it for a second. “I’m going to go put it away for today.” She hurried to her room and was back in less than a minute. “Ready.”

After a stop at a coffee shop they were soon on the road. Charley touched the radio knob. “May I?”

Ethan nodded. Charley ran through all of the presets on his FM and Sirius XM. “Everything is news, weather, classical, opera, or standards. Have you never heard of pop, rock, emo? You have hundreds on stations on Sirius!”

“Put on whatever you want.”

Scrolling through the channels, she stopped on a station playing Taylor Swift’s Our Song. “That’s better.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched. “It’s different.”

“How often do you visit Alan?”

“Usually day trips several times a month. More if I can.”

Ethan turned onto the on-ramp for the highway. “Can you get me one of those cherry almond muffins?”

Charley reached the basket on the backseat and grabbed a couple of muffins. She peeled the paper off of them and broke off a piece of muffin and held it to his mouth. Ethan smiled as he pulled the bite into his mouth. His tongue licked the tip of her fingers before she pulled her hand away. “This is really good. I thought that Sienna was the baker in your group.”

Charley laughed. “She is. I like to bake, too. But I need to have time. Sienna makes time every day.  I found this recipe and she demanded I give it to her. She’ll probably make it and hers will be much better.”

She broke off a bite of the banana muffin and fed it to him. “That’s good but I like the other one better.”

Charley watched the cars on the highway. “Do you always take the highway?”

Ethan glanced at her. “It’s efficient and the fastest way?”

Charley rolled her eyes and leaned against the door. “Going back roads might lead to a new adventure.”

“I don’t do ‘adventure,’ Charley.”

“Of course not.” Charley reached for the basket again, this time pulling out several cookies, breaking an oatmeal cookie in half.

Before she held her hand to his mouth, he reached over and grabbed it. She giggled as she released it.

Soon they pulled off the highway into Providence. “We need to make a stop at the pet store first. It won’t take long; I’ve already placed the order and paid for it.”

Walking into the store, one of the cashiers greeted them. “Morning Dr. Ramsey. Let me get your order. Your dad and Jenner were in here last week. Your girl is so sweet.”

“Ethan, since we’re here, I want to buy her a toy. What does she play with?”

He shook his head, “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. I- I like dogs, but I’m a cat person at heart. I don’t want Jenner to not like me.”

“She’s not going to know…” Ethan sighed. “She has a couple of tennis balls she loves, but she also likes the soft, plush toys.”

They walked down the toy aisle and looked at the selection. Ethan picked up a stuffed leopard, while Charley grabbed a teddy bear. They continued down the aisle and reached for a stuffed frog at the same time. “We’ll get her all three?” Ethan nodded and carried them to the register.

Charley handed her card to the cashier and Ethan pulled her hand back. “I’ll get-”

“I want to pay for them. I want to get them for her. Please let me do this.”

Ethan decided it wasn’t worth it and let her pay.

Within ten minutes they pulled into a driveway and Alan and Jenner, a beautiful Golden Lab, came out the door. Charley saw the surprised look on his face. “You didn’t tell your dad I was coming?”

“It’s fine, Charley. He’ll be very happy you’re here.”

“He looks shocked.”

Ethan sighed. “Probably because I’ve not brought anyone home before.”

“Harper?”

“No one.” Ethan opened his door just as Alan opened Charley’s door. “Dr. Valentine. This is a very pleasant surprise.” He reached to help her out of the car.

“Charley, please.”

Jenner approached, tail wagging. “Don’t jump up, girl,” Ethan called to her.

The dog sat on Charley’s foot and raised her paw. Charley laughed and leaned down to shake the dog’s paw. “Hello, Jenner. I’m Charley.”

Jenner gave a bark and rubbed against her.

Ethan handed Charley the basket of muffins and cookies and the pet store bag with the toys, while he and Alan unloaded the bags and cases of Jenner’s dog food.

Alan had fixed a pot roast and the three of them sat down to lunch. The conversation flowed easily as Alan asked Charley where she grew up and went to school. Alan laughed when he asked her why she wanted to be a doctor and she said that she had read an article written by a certain Dr. Ramsey, that impressed her enough that she researched all of his work and decided to go to med school.

After they had the muffins and cookies with coffee, Jenner went to the door and sat. Alan said that he would do the dishes if they wanted to take the dog for her walk. Soon they were walking through the neighborhood, Charley holding Jenner’s leash in one hand and Ethan’s hand in the other. Ethan pointed out various places of people he knew, including the debris of the shed that he had blown up in retaliation for the cello destruction. The walk was fairly uneventful until Jenner spotted a squirrel and took off. Charley was pulled away from Ethan. Ethan ran and yelled for Jenner to stop and Charley to drop the leash.

“Jenner! Stop!” The dog finally stopped and Charley ended up flat on her stomach in a mud puddle. She finally slipped her hand out of the leash. Jenner laid down in the mud next to her and licked her face. Ethan helped Charley to her feet and wiped as much of the mud of her face as he could. Jenner stood up and shook, spattering more mud around. He laughed as he looked at the both of them. “I think we need to get back to the house. You could both use a bath!”

Charley looked down at herself and saw she was covered in mud. “You think this is funny?” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you think this is also funny?” She took a step closer to him and threw her arms around him, pulling herself up against him and pressing her mouth to his. She succeeded in getting mud all over him. “Oops. Looks like you also need a bath, too.”

Alan was on the deck drinking coffee. He burst out laughing as he saw them. He took Jenner’s leash. “I’ll give her a bath. You two are on your own. I can put your clothes in the washer, if you want.” 

Ethan checked his watch and shook his head. “We don’t have time. I have some clothes here. Charley can wear some of my sweats. They’ll be too big, but at least it’ll be warm.”

She nodded. They left their shoes and socks by the door. Ethan led her to his room and pulled out sweats for her and jeans and a sweater for him.

“Umm, do you, this is embarrassing, the mud is everywhere. Do you, um, doyouhaveanyboxershortsIcanborrow?”

He turned to the dresser and pulled out a pair, as well as some socks. He reached behind him without turning to face her. He didn’t want her to see the smirk on his face. He also figured he would not be getting these clothes back. He led her down the hall to the bathroom. “Towels are in the linen closet there. I think a hair dryer is too. I have some shampoo and shower gel in the shower.”

He finally turned to look at her. She grinned at him. “Are you going to join me?”

“No. I’ll see you downstairs when you're done. I’ll use dad’s shower.”

Charley finished her shower and dried her hair. His sweats were too big. She turned the pant legs up and shoved the sleeves up to her elbows. She padded down the stairs and was almost to the kitchen when she heard the men talking. “What is going on between the two of you? I thought you said you couldn’t get involved with her?”

“I can’t. It’s unethical. She works for me.”

“You brought her here. You’ve never done that before, for anyone.”

“Yeah. I- she’s- she’s special. And I’m crazy about her. I can’t get her out of my head. I-“ Ethan’s voice trailed off.

Charley walked into the kitchen and both men looked up at her. Ethan smiled at her. “You look adorable.” She blushed at the way he was looking at her. “Your clothes are in my car. I’ll get them back to you after they’re washed.”

“I’m capable of doing my own laundry.”

“My dog caused this problem, so I’ll deal with it for you. We need to head back now.”

Alan and Jenner walked to the car with them. Alan hugged her. “He’s my son and I love him, but he can be an ass. You’re good for him.” He whispered to her.

As they pulled out of the driveway Ethan reached over and laced his fingers with hers. He kissed the back of her hand.

“The night we cooked the chicken, which I never got any of, you kissed me and we were supposed to talk later.”

“Sorry about the chicken.” Ethan kissed her hand again.

“When are we going to talk?”

“Soon.”

“Ethan.”

“It’s complicated. We’ll talk soon. Please don’t doubt how I feel about you, because-”

“I don’t doubt that. I’m trying to be patient. But I need for us to talk sooner rather than later.”

Ethan sighed and watched the road for several miles. Charley studied his features. “The next time we both have an early shift. We’ll have dinner together. And we’ll talk. Okay?”

Charley leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll hold you to that.” She settled her head on his shoulder; soon she was asleep.

Charley woke up to a kiss on the top of her head. She looked out the window and realized they were in front of her apartment building. “I slept most of the way. You should have woken me.”

“You needed to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll wait until you get inside the building. You should also know that Dr. Trinh just walked in.” Ethan hooked his finger under her jaw and turned her to face him. “Our next early shift, I promise.” He leaned over, his mouth covering hers; his tongue traced along her lower lip and slipped into her mouth. Her fingers curled into his hair and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her towards him. He finally broke the kiss and he whispered, “Good night, Dr. Valentine.”

She stepped out of the car and hurried up the steps to the front door of the building. She turned to wave to him.

She stood at her apartment door, with her keys in her hand. She closed her eyes and hoped all her roommates would be asleep. She opened the door and saw Sienna in the dining room.

Sienna’s eyes widened at the way Charley was dressed. “I was looking for those almond muffins. I guess we don’t have any left.”

“I took them with me today. I fell in the mud, and my clothes, um, they’re filthy. I’m going to bed.” Charley hurried to her room.

Sienna watched her go. Now she knew why she couldn’t find the muffins. That was one question answered. The main question for her now was, whose clothes was Charley wearing?

 My tag list: @oofchoices​ @openheart12​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @ohchoices​ @catchinglikekerosene @aylamreads​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXI: Treant

There wasn’t much interesting about me. Not really. That wasn’t me being self-deprecating or anything. If anything, I quite liked being in the background. Others around me have always been more interesting, and I was happy enough just to help those others out.

That’s why I worked from childhood through my adulthood in order to become a doctor. It wasn’t like a total dream of mine, and I wasn’t sure if I’d call myself “passionate” (one of my top qualities, I think, is that I’ve been called a dispassionate person. But I shouldn’t humblebrag), but when I was in grade school and saw one of my classmates get injured, I couldn’t help but be compelled to want to help them. Then there were times, like when my sister or my mom would get sick and I’d be like “gee, I wonder what would help them get better.”

Skip past many years of boring details, and the rest is history. Got my own apartment after completing my internship at one of the nearby hospitals. When my sister helped me move in, we found a time travel device in the closet that I mistook for a Nintendo 64. It’s not as interesting of a detail as it seems. Anyway, that aside, there was still work to be had just about every day.

Skip ahead a few more years after that…

...And there was still work to be had.

It was about that time in the morning when it wasn’t yet bright and early and the coffee I poured tasted like sludge. When the showers were scalding and suffocating fumes filled the bathroom, yet when I turned off the shower, I shivered like a nudist at the north pole.

Towel was too small. Quick shimmy and I groaned and threw it in the laundry basket. No one else was around to see me naked, so whatever. Even if there was, my bedroom door was closed. On the bed were my work clothes, which in my groggy state, I tried to fit the shirt on my legs and the pants on my head. After a few tries and tired moans and groans, I got it right. Still, my tie was a little loose.

I’ll fix it on my way there. Or I won’t and I’ll just say I’m setting a new fashion trend.

I glanced down at my limited edition Kamen Rider Black wristwatch and my blood pressure spiked upon noticing the time.

“Fuck,” I cursed, though in my hoarse tiredness, it sounded more like a donkey braying.

Yes, it was ‘fucktime’, that universal concept of that time of day where one looks at the time and exclaims “fuck!” There were many reasons for cursing at a time of day, and it didn’t have to be any time in particular, but the most common reason was due to the situation I was in: I was running late for work.

In a state of fight or flight (which I am always in flight since I could use the exercise), I put a couple of bagel slices into the toaster, wished that my toaster had a turbo speed button, and paced about until those two slices popped up; they weren’t crispy enough, but they’d have to do. Like the skilled painter that I wasn’t, I swiped across the two halves of the bagel with a messy gloop of cream cheese.

No more time left.

I ran out the door, or whatever constituted as a run in my mind, with the bagel halves held tight in my mouth.

This ridiculous display persisted for about...oh, to hell with it, let’s just skip all the embarrassment. Fast forward to when I got to the hospital, drenched in sweat and cream cheese on the cuff of my shirt.

“Ran late again?” The receptionist, I think her name was Wormwood, looked up from her computer. Her thick brown hair was in a bun and she didn’t just have bags under her eyes, but bags under those bags. That’s okay, I’ve had those days as well. From the reflection of her glasses, it looked like she was playing an intense game of Tetris.

“A doctor is never early nor late,” I huffed, trying to sound more self-assured than my short breath would allow.

“Yeah, you wish. Go change your shirt. You’ve got a patient waiting for you in room 413,” she clucked. Was clucked the right descriptor? Well, it was a vague chicken-like tone, so cluck was good enough.

“Why’s it always patients with me?” I joked. She didn’t so much as give a half-hearted chuckle. She could have at least said, “A for effort,” but I guess everyone was a critic. I hurried over to the hospital’s resident dry cleaner, who always had a spare pair of uniforms, scrubs, nice shirts, you name it. Our dry cleaner guy was a typical average dude with stringy red hair, named Marion or something. He always had that strung out look about him that gave the impression that he was pretty trustworthy. I showed him the cream cheese on my shirt and he made an OK sign with both hands, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Say no more,” he assured me in the most endearing bored-out-of-your-mind voice imaginable.

As I waited for him to grab me a spare shirt, I looked up and saw a couple of green scrubs hanging around.

“I can’t do this on my own. I’m no superman,” I hummed the tune. Marion (that might not have been his name, but it was pretty damn close to what I imagine his name was) turned and asked, “what?”

“You know, Scrubs? It’s a reference.”

“Oh, man, I don’t know the first thing about references,” he bemoaned in both a disinterested tone and a disoriented one.

Man, nobody appreciates a good reference these days.

After I received my change of shirt, I went into the nearest bathroom and speedran the Trent Dress Up game. Not to brag, but I might have set a new record that day. Okay. Moving on.

Up four flights of stairs I lumbered up, each foot dragged behind the other. Yes, I could have used the elevator, but then that wouldn’t have been very doctor-like of me, would it? I mean, plenty of doctors took the elevator, and there was nothing wrong with that, but I always tried to do healthy things. It didn’t really matter much, I mean, I was already healthy, I was just a little chubby, was all. So what? I was a big ol’ teddy bear in a lab coat. At least I rocked the look.

Twelve rooms down. Then the thirteenth: that was where I heard the assistant.

“Dr. Bark will see you now,” the assistant informed the patient. After she left, which I didn’t really get a good look at, but I’ve probably worked with her before, I opened the door and greeted the patient.

“Woof, woof!” I made my best dog voice, which probably sounded closer to a howler monkey than a dog.

My patient just looked at me, not amused in the slightest. He was an elderly man who looked like a bad caricature of an elderly man. Not one of the kind ones, either. No, more like the grumpy kind who would yell at you if you so much as lived in the general vicinity of the same neighborhood he lived in. Then again, I knew looks could be deceiving and if anything, his face was probably contorted in pain.

“Okay, so I’m not that clown doctor, but if you honk my nose, I will still make a sound,” I gave a nervous laugh as I said. He just continued to stare at me.

It turned out that he had a small seizure just as I entered the room. Lovely timing, really.

Before I could take a break and have some lunch, there were a few more fun moments, gross moments, sad moments, silly moments, the whole gamut. Really, I loved my job because there were many opportunities to treat others and get them to better health. But also I hated my job because it was a job and I hated being the bearer of big bills due to the malicious concept of private insurance.

My sister-in-law was always going on about how I should be more ambitious. How I could try to start my own clinic and treat people for free, out of the kindness of my heart. Which I loved, that really was a dream if I ever had one. But there was the matter of means. Equipment costs money, I’d need more space, I’d have to get all those good prescription drugs that all the cool cats liked. I wasn’t even sure if I could do it, legally.

But hey, if it were possible, I’d do it. For sure. Maybe.

Once I made it to the hospital’s cafeteria, I grabbed a lobster salad with a garlic roll and a pink lady apple for an extra layer of irony. It was ironic because no matter how many times I ate one of those, I could never keep myself away from the hospital. Shame, too. The busier I was, the less time I had to play Monster Hunter.

Anyway, as I looked for a place to sit, I hummed a tune I heard over the radio.

“Don’t call my name, don’t call my name, Alejandro. Fernando,” I hummed. Or rather, mumbled. Because I knew for a fact that I said those words out loud, whether or not I should have saved myself the embarrassment.

“Yes?” Crooned the seductive and husky toned voice of a man I didn’t recognize. I looked around, then noticed that the owner of such a voice was seated all by his lonesome at a table in the middle of the cafeteria.

Oh good, finally a table that’s not crowded.

I made the no-brainer decision to sit across from him at the table. His head sported a vast field of curly black hair as well as the stubble-laden remnants of a rugged black mustache. He reminded me of the guy from that Just Cause series of games, though not sure why, as I’ve never played them, though I had to admit, grappling hooks were pretty cool.

“Did you say something?” I stared into his inviting rosemary colored eyes. Mostly because I felt it rude if I didn’t. Imagine if someone did that to me, just looked away when they spoke to me. Actually, that’s probably happened many times.

“You said my name,” he replied, more plain this time, without as much of a soothing effect, but no less friendly.

“Oh? Alejandro?” I blinked, unaware that I had said anyone’s name.

“No, Fernando, but you may call me Fern. Everyone does,” he smiled as he told me, a smile as soothing as his voice could be.

“Well, I certainly wanna do what everyone else is doing,” I chuckled. “I’m Trent, by the way.”

He gave a slow nod.

“What a beautiful name. Do you know who does the song that you were singing?”

Oh god, if ever there was a time to be embarrassed.

“I just heard the song on the radio! I don’t know anything about it, I just thought it was kinda catchy.”

“I’ll give you a hint: it starts with ‘Lady’.”

Fuck. I was bad at guessing games.

“Lady and the Tramp?”

“No.”

“Lady Marmaduke?”

“No. You have three more guesses.”

Wait. He never said I had a limit of five. Now I was really feeling the pressure.

“Lady Groudon?”

“Close.”

Oh! Now I knew what it was!

“Lady Goomy!”

“...No, not quite. But really close.”

Damn. I only had one guess left, too. The heat was really on now.

“Lady Gloop?”

He bit his lip trying to hold back laughter, but couldn’t, and it all came flooding out.

“Um, did I win?” I wasn’t sure what to make of that laughter, but I had to know. I just HAD to know.

After he settled down, he shook his head and with an aching calm assured me:

“It’s not important.”

“Well, what is important, then?” I grimaced, the answer not given to me.

“The lives of our patients are what’s important.”

Yeah, that seemed a little obvious, though, considering our professions and all. Actually, I wasn’t quite sure whether he was a doctor or not. I didn’t recall ever working with him.

“What do you do here, by the way?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m a nurse, mi amor.”

Once he said that, everything clicked into place.

“No wonder you’ve got that gentle voice,” I observed.

“I don’t have to be gentle if you don’t want me to be.”

“No, no,” I shook my head. “For the sake of the patients, I think you ought to be.”

We went back and forth after that, chatting about this and that, though nothing really important. Really, it was nice, I didn’t usually chat with anyone. Afterward, however, it was back to the grind. Oh joy.

Once said day one was done, I flopped on home and collapsed on my sofa. Next to me was a controller, and I had bought my copy of Final Fantasy XVI the other day, but haven’t had a chance to play it.

“My body...too feeble…” I wheezed out the words as my hands shook trying to reach for the controller. Just as it seemed like the controller was within my grasp, my phone rang.

When there was something in closer proximity than the item that I really wanted, the natural urge was to reach for the one in closer proximity instead.

“Hey Trent. It’s me,” came the sudden and to the point tone of my sister-in-law: Vesuvius.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” I snapped to my senses and sat right up. “Is everything okay? Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ve got a nice little apartment with my beautiful wife. I just haven’t spoken to you in a while and wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh, what a relief. I was worried you were having another mental health episode.”

“Hey! I don’t go around pointing out the time you had food poisoning, do I?” She scolded. Yeah, okay. That was fair.

She didn’t have many mental health episodes, but ever since that incident with her and Juniper’s stalkers, she had been more sensitive and more on edge. That said, I really was happy for her and that she was at peace.

“You’re right. God, that was a rough time. Who knew blueberries could be so poisonous?”

“All things in nature can,” she stated. Gee, if anyone knew that, it would’ve been her.

“How are all things with settling into the apartment?” I asked. She hadn’t been there long, but it was a bold step for her, considering her social anxiety, which she tried to act like she didn’t have.

“You know, it’s an adjustment. It gets lonely when Juniper isn’t home. I’m not used to her having anything resembling a job. I hate to sound possessive, but I don’t like that she has one. I wish we didn’t have to make money to live.”

“Be as possessive as you want,” I chuckled. “Er...within reason. Say, have you saved up for anything?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you always go on about wanting to do that whole ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle thing. So maybe you could save for that and go for it?”

She drew a deep breath, as if she were about to blow a gust of wind out of every orifice.

“First off, I don’t know what a ‘cottagecore’ is, but I’m cautious around anything with the suffix of -core. You know I’m a delicate flower.”

“And a poisonous one,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well, poisonous flowers can be delicate. And hey! Be nice to me!”

I coughed up a chuckle.

“Okay, well, second off,” she continued. “What I want is to live off the land, in a field of flowers. Growing my own field. Having peace and quiet in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, that’s cottagecore.”

“Don’t say words I don’t understand to me!” She scolded. “It’s really demeaning.”

“Okay, okay,” I tried to settle down with the teasing. “But for real, it’s not like it’s impossible. Juniper could build a house, she likes making things.” Then again, she probably wouldn’t build a house very well, but I’m sure she’d enjoy the attempt. “It may take a bit of money for the resources, but it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, first thing’s first is I want to see a therapist. Like, an actual therapist.”

“Oh, that could be good for you.”

“Yeah…” Her voice trailed, and the tone of her voice shifted to a more mournful one. “I still remember how I was during that time. I have trouble believing that it’s really over. All of that pain lingers with me. It’s not something I wish to remember, but it’s something I’m unable to forget.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad,” I tried to reassure her. I assumed she was referring to the whole stalker incident that occurred at the same time she dealt with her mental health episode. “Everyone has a breaking point. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there.”

“No, but there is. I was confused. Desperate. I hurt the most important person in my life. I hurt someone else that I could have helped. That I could have saved. If I had just known how. If my mind was more clear back then,” her voice shifted into a growl. “I hate it. I hate inflicting pain. Especially because it’s not who I want to be. No who I am anymore,” her voice then grew sharper. Harsher. “Yet I can’t help but feel like it’s still with me, buried somewhere, and I just want to punch a wall, rip my hair out, something! Something to cut this off from me!”

“Hey, hey,” I could tell she was working herself up. “You and Juniper are both sensitive people. Sometimes people lash out when their emotions are heightened. It doesn’t mean you’re bad or anything, but you can work on it. For what it’s worth, I do think you two are good together.”

“Thank you,” her voice quieted back to the mournful tone it was at first and I could hear sniffling and weeping in the background. “I’m sorry. I told myself I would keep composed and yet I went off into that rant. Gee, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a better therapist than the one I pretended to be.”

“Heh. It’s nothing. You’ve definitely been through a lot. Get yourself some tea or something, that might help.”

“Thanks,” she sniffled again. “What about you? Is there anything new with you?”

“Eh. Same ol’ boring stuff at the hospital. People get sick and die, some people get better.”

“To which?” She let out a weak chuckle.

“Oh, definitely the sick part. I’ve yet to someone get better from being dead, but anything can happen. Fingers crossed, right?”

“Heh…so there’s nothing new at all? What about at the house? I bet you’re glad to have Juniper and I out of your hair.”

“Eh. You guys weren’t that bad to deal with.”

“That’s a relief. Do you miss us?”

“Hmm...a bit. It’s a bit quiet now, but I like it. Means I can play video games in peace and walk around the apartment in my underwear.”

“Indeed, that is a positive. Though I didn’t need to hear the last part.”

I tried to think about anything of substance I could actually talk about.

“Oh! I met someone new at the hospital today! This nurse named Fern. He’s got these beautiful murky green eyes and maze-like curly dark hair. Oh, and his mustache. I bet I’d be ticklish if it rubbed against me,” I announced with a sense of excitement at the prospect of actually having something to say.

“Are you attracted to this Fern person?” She inquired.

While I didn’t quite know where she got that idea from, I wasn’t going to say that he was ugly or anything like that.

“I’m certainly not repelled by him,” I joked. Heh. Magnets. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, since you described him in such exquisite detail.”

“Eh. Isn’t it normal to describe people you talk about?”

“Not in my experience. Not like that, anyway. But hey, what do I know?”

“Yeah, well, I just met him today, so I doubt I’ll describe him every time I talk about him. He seems nice, in any case. Hey, maybe the four of us could play D&D together sometime?” I perked up at the prospect of having someone else to play D&D with. That was the most important thing about meeting someone. If not D&D, maybe I could gush about 80s Sci-Fi movies or J-RPGs.

“I don’t know...that game always brings out the worst in me...I try to be a healer but whenever I encounter a monster I just want to grind them into dust and then I curse the fact that I didn’t pick a class like barbarian.”

“Heh. That is a problem. You could always just be a barbarian.”

“No. I don’t want to,” I could tell she stuck her nose up just by her tone of voice alone.

“In any case, we gotta get this going on! We never seem to finish a campaign!” I was SO pumped to get this thing going on.

“That’s because I always either quit out of frustration or you end up too busy and we decide to start over from a new campaign as soon as you have free time again,” she pointed out. At least she was honest.

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure!”

“Mm...well, it was nice talking with you, Trent. I’m glad you seem to be doing well, and good luck with this Fern person.”

“Thanks! You take care too! Bye!”

We hung up and I spent the rest of the day being an exhausted nerdy Trenty bear who somehow did nothing yet time still passed.

As the days went by, I’d spend lunch having conversations with Fern and he said I could talk about whatever I was passionate about, so OF COURSE a bunch of nerdy shit came up.

“About halfway through the game, she dies, but you can get her final limit break later on. This is a way to show that she’s still with the party in spirit and the party keeps it as a memento, even though they know they cannot use it, OR they refuse to use it to honor her memory.”

“I see. And it’s not just the developers making a mistake?” Fern pondered. The gall.

“No way. Game developers wouldn’t just do that. In fact, you can hack the game to make it so Aerith lives, by coming back after she dies, but she’ll say at a certain point, ‘I’m not supposed to be here’. That’s because the developers knew that players would try to bring her back, so they were prepared.”

“Wow. That really is haunting,” he looked moved by my explanation. As he should be.

“The game devs were also brilliant for making her and Cloud be besties instead of a romantic interest. There’s a part where Cloud and Aerith go on a date on a ferris wheel and right before they go on the ferris wheel, Aerith turns to cloud and goes ‘wa...wassup homie?’ and Cloud says, ‘golly gee’ in response. By having them be besties, it shows the importance of friendships over romantic relationships. It’s actually shown in a prequel that Cloud had a boyfriend named Zack, but despite it being canon, many fans prefer to act like the game doesn’t exist.”

“That’s a wonderful message for them to show,” he nodded along.

“Yeah. So anyway, Zack dies in the prequel.”

“Damn. This Cloud guy just can’t catch a break.”

Before I was able to continue the conversation further, I received a beep on my pager.

“...And neither can I. I gotta split.”

That was how our typical conversations went. I did most of the talking while he stared and smiled the whole way through. Most of the time, I didn’t mind that, but it also meant that I didn’t know much about him. He hardly seemed like the mysterious type, and I should’ve known the mysterious type due to the people I’ve let in my apartment in the past.

So the next chance we got I decided I’d hold nothing back. We both sat together, once again with our lunches in front of us, and I popped the question:

“Do you have any siblings?” I was casual as I asked him, plain as day with an egg and lettuce sandwich in my hands. He tilted his head and rested it on his palm, looking even more radiant than usual.

“Why yes. I have four sisters. Two of them are engaged. One of them’s married. The fourth one is still looking for love.”

“Oh wow,” I replied. “You know, you could tell her that she doesn’t have to find love. It’s not the be-all and end-all, after all.”

“I think she already knows that. Still, she wouldn’t mind the experience. What about you, Trent?” He spoke my name with such a delicacy that it made my heart tackle the walls of my chest.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “I’ve got a sister. I don’t even know why you mentioned relationships since I just asked about siblings, but she’s in one. I mean, she’s married, so I guess I’ve also got a sister-in-law. If that counts as another sibling, then I’ve got two sisters, maybe?”

He coughed up a chuckle against his fist.

“Love is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess it can be.”

For some reason that simple exchange reminded me of an early memory when Juniper and I were kids and we shared a room, bunk beds, in fact.

She hung upside down from the edge of the top bunk of the bed. I always did tell her to be careful, but she never was good at listening to me.

“Hey bro, bro, bruh, bruv,” she pestered me.

“What is it?” I looked up from the book I was reading.

She held down a magazine with pictures of women in hiking gear.

“Look! Aren’t those girls cute? Aren’t they your type?” She pressed it up to my face. Or as well up to my face as she could. Her aim wasn’t the best when she hung upside down. Nevertheless, I took a glance. Of course, as I was more interested in the book I was reading, I didn’t really pay attention.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Not satisfied, she grew in intensity.

“Come on! You didn’t look!”

“Yeah I did!” I shot back. “I’m just more interested in this book right now! You have no idea how cool the Shannara novels are!” Oh, but I wasn’t done. “Also, I’m pretty sure those are your type, not mine!”

She stuck her tongue out.

“What even is your type?” She teased.

I shrugged. Really, I didn’t know then, and even into my 30s, as a doctor, I had no idea if I even had a type. For anyone. After a pause, she then asked.

“Do you think you’d ever have a crush on anyone?”

I gave it some thought. Then, as if it was a no brainer, it clicked.

“If someone was actually interested in me, sure! But c’mon, I’m a nerd. You know how hard it is for people like me.”

She scowled at that.

“That’s just a myth. That shouldn’t stop you.”

She was right. Both back then, and in the present, if she were to tell me that again. But over the years, I grew to have a different excuse.

“Would you ever be open to the idea of love?” Fern’s question brought me out of the memory, back to the moment that I shared with him.

I shrugged.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind. If the opportunity were to occur. But then, I’m always too busy to think about things like that, so it’s never really crossed my mind. I’m sure you can relate, seeing as you’re probably about as busy as I am.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But it has its advantages.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like how we can spend the same amount of time together.”

Oh yeah. That was a really good point.

“Heh. It is nice to have someone to chat with,” I agreed.

It was a surprise how little time had passed, but I was glad for it. Considering how unpredictable this job could be, I had to be thankful for any precious minutes I got.

“Let’s not worry about that. If we run out of time, we can pick it up another day. So what do you say?”

“So tell me, how did your sister meet her lover?” His curiosity took me by surprise. Not something I thought would be worth asking, but who was I to say what someone did and didn’t find interesting?

All right. So I told him. It seemed he just had that kind of effect on me.

Maybe it was a little cliché, I don’t know, because I don’t know what constitutes as cliché, but it was a rainy evening. I had just gotten off work, I had my umbrella, but it seemed to do me little good as there was a mighty gust of wind and the rain just slid down the umbrella and managed to force itself onto my jacket.

On the way home, I took a shortcut through a side street. I guess it was like an alleyway, but more open. I don’t know, side street sounds appropriate. Curled up underneath the cover of a building’s awning was a homeless woman, a single orange striped blanket over her, damp. Her hair seemed covered in dirt, she shivered, but made no attempt to voice her discomfort. I couldn’t quite make out her face, but maybe it was pity that brought me to pay attention to her in the first place.

Yeah, typical “boy meets girl” story, huh?

At last, she looked up and croaked. Despite facing me, her face seemed to droop low and she looked downtrodden.

“You got money?”

I jumped. Startled. Yeah, not too dignified, but I really just didn’t expect for her to notice me. Once I composed myself, I dug through my jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

“Here, it’s not much, but it’s what I got on me.”

“Thanks,” she replied and took it. No more than that. Of course, if that was the extent of the exchange, there wouldn’t really be anything to tell, now would there?

“Hey, I know it’s late, but there’s a cafe close by we can visit if you want a coffee or something. They’re not open forever, but it’ll keep you dry for a little while,” I offered.

She looked up again, scowled.

“I don’t trust strangers,” she stated.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger. I get that,” I chuckled. “I just figured I’d offer, but you can decline. If you’re worried about me being someone dangerous, you can punch me. I’m not really interested in being cruel or violent or anything like that.”

She squinted. I would later find out that was less because of how ridiculous she may have thought me and more because she had poor eyesight.

“Are you that desperate that you would ask a homeless person out on a date?” Her biting remark might have gotten under the skin of just about anyone else, but I’ve probably heard much worse from some of my patients. Instead, I laughed.

“You don’t have to think of it as a date. I don’t. I’m not really the dating type, anyway. It’s just a spur of the moment thing.”

She shifted eyes, turned her head from left to right, then looked back up on me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this…but sure,” she heaved out the words.

“Cool,” I stuck my thumb out, then continued, “it’s just a couple of blocks away. I really like the place, since I sometimes don’t get off work until real late and it’s open past midnight.”

“I don’t care...when it’s open...but I could use something warm...to drink,” she sounded lightheaded, in a daze.

Once we made our way through the door of the dim lit cafe with neon lighting, she wiped her shoes on the mat.

Oh. What good manners, I thought. As someone who often forgot to wipe their shoes when entering places, it was a nice reminder to see someone else do so. At least I remembered to put my umbrella down, but that kinda went without saying.

As soon as I approached the counter, I turned to her, still drenched.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Order whatever you like,” I assured her. After I said those words, she looked up, squinted, then closed her eyes.

“I would like a lavender mocha latte, but no dairy. Almond milk if you have it. Coconut would be even better. Give four extra shots of espresso, and if you have dark chocolate syrup, use that.”

Damn. It was like she had the whole thing recited and ready to go. All right.

“I’ll just take a black coffee,” I shrugged. I didn’t need all the sugar or any of that extra stuff.

“Oh. I should have went with that too,” she looked down, possibly embarrassed at her order.

I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I said you could order whatever. My treat.”

She made her way to the table nearest to the window, and took the seat closest to the window as well. As soon as she sat down, she lowered her head onto the table and her arms outstretched to cover her head. Behind her, raindrops slid down the window. It wasn’t much an interesting sight, but I wasn’t a very observant person, so I felt I ought to have taken note of something.

“Just so you know, you should probably forget about me after this,” she uttered and despite her words being muffled, I could still make her words out clear as a river.

“If you want,” I shrugged.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t associate with me. There’s people after me. I’d rather not get anyone involved.”

I pondered if there was any validity to that. Maybe she ran from an ex, or there was some trafficking ring. That last bit was a little dark. As a middle ground, I thought that maybe she had run off from home as a kid (surprisingly, that part was sort of true, in a sense).

“You probably think I’m crazy. Paranoid, even. I get it. Some homeless woman tells you there’s people after her. You don’t have to believe me. Just so you know, I’m homeless by choice. It’s easier this way. You don’t have to believe that, either.”

“Well, if you’re on the run, maybe it’s not by choice?” I suggested.

She looked up, her face still semi-buried in her arms. Still, I could make out eyes through her bangs. Grayish-purple bags under her eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. It’s been so long, it’s hard to tell anymore. My head won’t cooperate,” she seemed to agree with my assessment, and as if to confirm as much, she lifted her head up and rubbed her forehead with her palm. With one eye visible, she glared at me.

“Just so you know, even if you considered this a date, I wouldn’t be interested. I’m…” she looked around, then stated, “men don’t interest me.”

I chuckled.

“It’s okay. My sister’s a lesbian. You don’t really have to beat around the bush about it.”

Her eyes widened, then squinted again.

“I don’t know why you would tell me that. I’m not interested. My main focus is my survival, it’s just…” She began to glance to her side and down at the floor. “I’ve been running and hiding so long, I’m growing tired. Sooner or later, I might just give up. It’s a terrible thought, but I don’t think I can go on.”

My concern began to grow, even if I didn’t know the scope of her problem.

“I don’t really know what it is you’re dealing with, but you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“No. I refuse to endanger anyone else,” she seemed adamant about that.

Maybe she was justified, but in a selfish way, that also made me want to help more.

“You can refuse if you want, but the weather forecast says it’s going to be raining over the next few days. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment you can stay in. If nothing else, it’ll keep you dry.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she looked away once more.

“You wouldn’t be. I’m the one that offered,” I shrugged, a favorite gesture of mine.

“Well...maybe my head is just messed up enough right now, but...fine. As long as I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Of course,” I assured her, and I even lifted a feeble smile. Once our coffee was brought over, mine a regular paper coffee cup, hers a ceramic cup filled to the top, we drank in silence. Between intervals of me sipping the bitter bean, I peeked over and noticed how she held onto her cup with a sort of elegance; one hand on the handle, the other grasping the base of the cup, and slow sips taken, not a single slurp to be heard. It was probably a little weird of me to pick up on something like that, I admit.

“I’m Trent, by the way,” I told her out of courtesy. Depending on how long she’d stay, I felt it wise to tell her my name.

“Et...err...Vesuvius. You can call me Vesuvius. Or Ves. I don’t care which,” her eyes shifted and she stammered out the words.

After we finished our coffee, we headed out, umbrella up and ready to go. There wasn’t a long walk ahead of us, and she was silent the whole way through. Not that I tried to make small talk anyway, since the rain was kind of gloomy weather for conversation. She walked with a slump, something I should have warned her to be cautious about, lest she get a hunchback. Maybe she did so because she felt she was too tall to fit under the umbrella, or maybe she had been under such duress for so long that standing up straight no longer registered to her.

Before long, we made our way inside and I showed her to where the spare room was. She didn’t speak a word, not so much as a nod, just went inside. Before I closed the door, I told her, “if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be down the hall and to your left.”

Still, no acknowledgment. That was fine. Just as long as she heard me. For whatever reason, it didn’t register until after I closed the door that I didn’t have anything like an air mattress or a futon for her to sleep on. That room was bare, empty. Not a single item to be found.

Despite that, I was too tired to do anything rational like look for some spare blankets or pillows, and decided it was high time for me to get some rest. At the very least, I turned the heater on and let it run. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I didn’t think Juniper would be all that comfortable with it on, but screw it, I was the one who paid the bills.

“Well, time for me to get some shut eye,” I announced, thinking there was no one around who could hear me. However, I soon noticed from the corner of my eye a foam basketball being tossed up into the air.

“Who’s the babe?” Juniper, asked in a rather dull voice. I soon turned and saw her laying on the couch, flat on her back.

“Don’t be disrespectful,” I scolded. “I found her on the street. She’s just going to stay over for a few nights.”

“So now you’re picking up homeless chicks?”

Really, maybe she was just moody ‘cause she was tired, or maybe she just felt like giving me a hard time that night in particular.

“I just felt like doing a good deed, there’s nothing behind it,” I corrected her. Again.

“That’s rather nice of you. Just make sure not to overexert yourself. Your health is important too,” she reminded.

“Thanks.”

I thought I could just go to bed, but then a smile which signified mischief spread across her face.

“So, tell me about the babe,” she wouldn’t drop it so soon.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.

“C’mon, the babe.”

“No,” I folded my arms on my hips. If she could nudge me from where she was at, she would have.

“You remind me of the babe,” her cheery voice returned, coupled with a sing-song tone.

“What babe?” I finally gave in.

“The babe with the power.”

“What power?”

“Power of voodoo!”

“Who do?”

“You do!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of the babe! Ha ha ha!” she kicked around the couch and laughed. There were certain nights where I could just tell when she watched Labyrinth that day.

“Okay, okay, don’t stay up too late,” I reminded her. “You know where your room is.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Night.”

Ah, Labyrinth. Classic. David Bowie and his tights. Things didn’t get much better than that.

Somehow I managed to tell him all of that with time to spare.

“You have a big heart, Trent,” he told me, which kinda made me want to sulk.

“Yeah...I do try to have a good diet, though,” I pouted.

“No, no, I mean metaphorically,” he patted the air as he spoke, a sure sign of sincerity.

“You mean…?” I stared into his earthen rosemary colored eyes.

“Yes. You are very kind.”

“Oh, phew. For a second there I was worried you meant my weight.”

“No, no. Dear. You are adorable. When I first saw you that fateful day, I said to myself, ‘this is an adorable teddy bear’. I would never have anything unkind to say to a teddy bear.”

“Well, thank you. Does that mean I’m a cuddly looking teddy bear?” I let slip my curiosity.

“I’d have to find that one out for myself. Hey, your story about your sister’s wife got me thinking. How would you like to go out for coffee after work?”

Gee, the possibility never even occurred to me, but it was so simple. Of course.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’m pretty sure the place is still open.”

“And,” he leaned in a little closer. “May I consider it a date?”

I laughed a little at that.

“If you’d like to.”

“And,” a little closer still. “Would you consider it one?”

That time, my heart went “boing boing” against my chest. I didn’t know the answer to that one. It was too much being put on the spot, I was used to the attention being on other people.

“Um...not no, but maybe yes...I’m not sure…” Came my disgraceful blabbering until I managed to catch myself and re-compose. “Er...I’m not used to thinking about things for myself...but...sure. You’re a pretty cool guy. Let’s consider it a coffee date.”

So we did. Just a few nights later, after work we walked into the parking lot. He had a motorcycle, with enough of a seat for me to fit in the back. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest and in fact, it played out much the same as many of our conversations at lunch before. It all felt natural between us, like trees. He ordered an oregano tea latte and I had my usual black coffee.

As if by miracle, the sun had yet to set and there wasn’t the slightest hint of rain. We sat across from each other and immersed ourselves in the ambiance of the hums and smooth glitchtunes playing on the coffee shop’s speakers.

“So, if I were to come over to your place tonight, would I see your sister and her wife?” He posed the hypothetical question.

“Nah, they both moved out almost a year ago. They’ve got their own apartment somewhere else in the city, though they’re also saving up to move elsewhere again.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head.

“Well, it’s a dream of Ves’ to live in a field of flowers, open nature, all that stuff. Psychedelic drugs, flowers in hair, tie-dye, I could go on. Juniper’s already found a place a couple of states out, and she found an old beat up pick up truck in a ditch and decided to repair it just for fun. So now all they gotta do is assemble the wood, get some electric lining, plumbing, all that stuff. Which...I don’t have a lot of faith in my sister, she’s no architect or electrician, but she’s the type who gets insistent about doing everything herself, so it’s not like I could talk her out of it.”

“That’s great, though! They’re pursuing their passion. Isn’t that beautiful?”

I shrugged.

“I dunno if ‘beautiful’ is the word I’d use, but yeah. I suppose I’m happy for them.”

“What about you? Do you have any goals?” His eyes fluttered, almost like he wanted to lull me to sleep.

“Sorta, but it’s kinda dumb? I just don’t like the whole ‘charged ten thousand dollars as soon as you walk in and good luck getting your overpriced insurance that you can barely afford, if afford at all, to cover anything’ so I was thinking how it would be cool if I could run my own clinic. I don’t know, maybe it could be funded through donations, but in no way would people have to pay. Like, I doubt I’d be able to do the big stuff like surgeries or transplants, but it’s still something, right? Thing is, that’s kinda impossible, don’cha think?”

Rather than some kind of agreement, he reacted in a rather ferocious manner: he stood up, leaned over, and slammed his hands on the table.

“Trent,” while his voice grew in intensity, it certainly didn’t sound angry. More...motivating. “You must never be afraid of your passion.”

“Uh...okay…” I scratched my cheek. “But what about you? What are you passionate about?”

He sat back down.

“You. Of course,” he answered, so simple, so straightforward in his delivery.

“So, like, does that mean you’d want to play D&D with me sometime?”

He laughed.

“I’d love to.”

“Really? Are you sure? What if you don’t like it? I mean, I don’t even know what your hobbies are.”

“If I end up not liking it, then at least I’ll have found that out for myself. But all of your hobbies, everything that interest you, I want to immerse myself in. Because all of you...is my hobby.”

“Bro…” I leaned forward. “That’s kind of...uh...cool!”

“Oh, and I also like to ride around on my motorcycle. I like watching the sunsets, going hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking, and making ceramic cups.”

Hiking, mountain climbing, kayaking...he sure looked fit. Not to mention, those things sounded like fun, even if possibly dangerous.

“Do you think I could do those things with you?” I asked, hesitant, but I figured if he was wanting to do the things I liked, I may as well ask him in return.

“Of course. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Then in that case, can I kiss you?” I joked, though it seemed to come out of nowhere. However much I meant it, it was out in the open now.

“Of course. Would you like to do it here, or at your apartment?”

“Err...at my apartment?”

To be honest, I’ve never kissed anyone before. Or been kissed by anyone before. That thought never even crossed my mind and I pretty much figured I’d be fine not having such a thought and continuing on with my life, but dominoes were falling or something like that.

“Let’s go, then,” he stood up and motioned for me to head toward the door. In a hurry, I chugged down my coffee.

I should probably brush my teeth first. Coffee breath probably isn’t a good taste. Then again, would he want to brush his teeth. Should we just use the same toothbrush? Or maybe he packed one with him.

When we shoved our way through the door of my apartment, those questions were erased from my mind.

“I’ve actually never kissed anyone before...I know, in my thirties and…” he put his finger on my lips and made a “shh” sound.

“Relax. I’ll take the lead,” he lowered his hand, then leaned down and spread his lips against mine. As he released, I wished that he hadn’t. But then the thought of my breath returned to the front of my mind.

“Sorry, uh, hope my breath doesn’t bother you.”

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“Well…it’s probably good to take care of your teeth. I’m not a dentist, but I do think good health is important in all aspects of one’s health and --”

He pulled out a box of mint chews.

“Here,” he opened the box. I took a couple and popped them into my mouth. On instinct, I bit down on them and chewed, despite knowing that I wouldn’t be prepared for the icy hellfire that was the minty taste. After a couple of seconds of huffing, I looked back at him.

“Okay, I’m good now.”

“There is one more interest I have now,” he decided to pick back up from our conversation at the coffee shop for some final choice words.

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“Supporting you and your dreams.”

Then we kissed again.

So flashforward a year or so and through some sort of miracle, such a dream was realized: we converted the apartment into a clinic and moved upstairs to the apartment directly above. Both of us quit our jobs at the hospital so we could focus on the clinic. Really, I couldn’t have done it without him. Or, maybe I could have, but I’d like to think he gave me that sort of push, y’know? That little “oomf.”

There were many improvements that could have been made, and might be made as time went on, but I liked seeing the genuine attempt to help, and the look on people’s faces when they knew they wouldn’t have to worry about cost...worth it. What’s more, people donated freely, and often. We met several people around the community and even convinced some to play D&D with us. I think the biggest surprise was how much of a hit the game was with the elderly.

Oh, and also, Fern and I became boyfriends. Not really sure how that happened, but it did and I’m cool with it.

On one particular slow day, an interesting thing happened: see, it had been a while since any strange people walked through my door. After a streak of Ves, Blanc, and that weird stalker lady my sister hugged, I figured I’d see the last of any weirdness. In fact, I never even thought to tell Fern about any of the weird visitors (besides Ves, of course). But then as I was doing a solo hunt against deviljo in Monster Hunter on my PC in my office, Fern ran into my office.

“Hey Trent, dear, there’s someone outside the front door saying she’s your cousin,” he informed me. I looked up, a little perplexed.

“I have relatives?” I asked, even though it might have seemed like a pretty dumb thing to say.

Never mind the dumbness, I stopped what I was doing and rushed toward the door only to find a short lady with blonde hair who looked to be in her 20s.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked her.

“It’s me, your cousin. Demetria?” She folded her arms and scowled.

It took a few seconds to click, and then I remembered.

“Ohhh. You were at my sister’s wedding. I think. Probably.”

“Yeah, I probably most definitely was,” she turned her head and spat on the ground.

Fern stood beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Who might this be?” He asked.

“Fern,” I gestured to Demetria. “This is apparently my cousin, Demetria. Demetria, this is Fern, my receptionist-slash-boyfriend.”

“You make me sick,” Demetria growled in response.

“What?” I blinked, and I was quite surprised to hear such a thing. “Are you homophobic?”

“No, I’m not homophobic, I just can’t believe you’re dating someone named after a tree! You were supposed to be the chosen one! You could have broken the cycle!”

That was an odd thing to focus on, but good to know it wasn’t too serious.

“It’s short for Fernando, actually, and technically, Ferns aren’t trees,” Fern explained to her.

“All right, buster,” she pointed up. “But you’re on thin-fucking-ice!”

Then she turned to me.

“Also, grats on being gay, I guess. That’s kinda cool,” she eased up her abrasive tone.

“Well, I might be bi. I don’t know. I haven’t been interested in women before, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be interested in any women. I think the real question we need to ask is, is it gay to be in a relationship with another man?” I suggested. Demetria just looked at Fern, who then looked at me.

“Yeah,” they both said at the same time.

“Well, in any case, what can I do for you, Demetria?” I shifted focus.

“Right. I need you to tell me where Juniper lives.”

“What for?”

“So I can go live with them. Why else?”

That was an odd thing to want to do, and I didn’t even think Juniper and Ves would agree to such a...oh, who was I kidding? Juniper was that kind of person.

“Right. Uh...I guess there’s no harm. I’ll write down their address for you. You got a way to get there?”

She shook her head.

“I make it up as I go. I got here just fine, didn’t I?”

Yeah, that was a good point.

I pulled out my notepad from my shirt pocket as well as a pen and scribbled down the address. After I handed it to her, she squinted and scowled.

“Shit. How am I supposed to read this chicken scratch?”

Right. Doctor.

“Here, I’ll just spell it out for you, so you can just type it in the notepad app on your phone or whatever you have.”

“Oh, great. More work for me to do,” she grimaced, but pulled out her phone and pressed the power button.

“Let’s see...a few missed calls from my mom. Typical. Also, a text from Ray. ‘If you ever consider coming back here, don’t. I don’t want to see you again.’ Gee, wasn’t planning on going back there, but good to see I’m not wanted. Typical...oh, here we go. Notepad.”

I didn’t really know what that bit was about, but I wasn’t about to pry. Wasn’t my business. As soon as I told her the address, she turned her phone back off and put it back in her pocket.

How are you going to know where to find the place if you don’t even look at the address?

Oh well. Juniper and Ves’ problem now.

“See ya,” she waved, then ran off. Fern and I waved too, then Fern turned to me.

“Well, she was interesting,” he remarked.

I shrugged.

“Yeah. It tends to go that way. I never really told you, but besides Ves, there’s been some strange people who showed up here a couple of times. First there was Blanc, this amnesiac who was missing an arm. Juniper decided to make a prosthetic limb for them after learning about Fullmetal Alchemist and we kinda let them live here until they just disappeared one day. Then there was this one stalker Juniper had who wanted her and I to leave town but didn’t really explain why and then Juniper hugged her and she freaked out. Not a clue what that was about, but we never saw her again, so I guess we never needed to leave town.”

“Wow, your sister had a stalker?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, it was horrible, I guess. She seemed rather nonchalant about it, but I could tell it affected her in some ways. She was paranoid for a bit until she met this stalker in person, and then said stalker turned out to be harmless.”

“Still, I would’ve been scared too.”

“Oh yeah, and by the way, Ves is a time traveler. Yeah, you probably think I’m nuts now, but she was originally from the ‘60s and my sister and I found this time travel device that looked like a Nintendo 64 when we moved in. It apparently belonged to Ves’ father. So that time at the coffee shop when she was homeless? Yeah, apparently I met her before that actually and neither of us realized that. Of course, she was a teenager back then and only showed up to take the time travel device back but anyway…”

I realized I started rambling and the more I went on, the more ridiculous things probably seemed.

“...Anyway, you don’t have to believe me, but that was all to say that everyone else who’s ever been in this apartment has been more interesting than me. Including you. Compared to them, I’m kinda just...there.”

He shook his head and placed a firm grasp on my shoulders. He looked me in the eyes.

“No, you are very interesting. How could you not be when you’ve met all of these interesting people? Take it from me: I wouldn’t be interested in you if I didn’t find you interesting.”

“Gee,” I looked away, embarrassed. “Thanks. But also, there’s one more thing: my family has this weird tradition of naming people after trees. Yeah, I’m Trent, but I was named after Treant, this tree monster in D&D. My mom wanted to name me Ent, but apparently couldn’t because the Tolkien estate has the rights to that name.”

“See? Another interesting thing about you!”

“Ha. I’m glad I met you. My mom wasn’t exactly a nice lady, but it was cool that she was into D&D. That’s probably where I got it from. Maybe it’s genetic. Still, neither mine nor my sister’s personalities are like her, although Juniper’s probably closer, though way nicer. It’s hard to explain, but you’d just have to trust me.”

“Every time you tell me something new about yourself, I’m fascinated more and more,” he smiled wide.

We kissed once more before getting back to work. Our day hadn’t yet come to an end.

[ladyherenya]

Books read in September

I had a moment of intense self-centredness and, internally, wailed: Why isn’t the world filled with more books that appeal exactly to me??? 

I’ve concluded that it’s like I have an inner story-troll sitting inside me shouting: Tell me a story! I try to appease it by presenting it with books, one at a time, and seeing how it reacts. 

Favourite cover: Flyaway.

Reread: The Shadowy Horses by Susanna Kearsley. (I also reread From All False Doctrine at least twice.)

Also read: The Disastrous Début of Agatha Tremain by Stephanie Burgis and Snow Day by Andrea K Höst.

Still reading: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray and The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett,

Next up: I have borrowed The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner, Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu, and Between Silk and Cyanide: A Code Maker’s War, 1941-45 by Leo Marks. And maybe I’ll finally get around to The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams?

*

The City of Brass by S.A. Chakroborty (narrated by Soneela Nankani): I think this Middle East-inspired fantasy was just not the story I was in the headspace for -- it was longer, with more complicated worldbuilding and fewer answers. Possibly I’d have followed the political intrigue of Daevabad better had I read this in one gulp (I got halfway through the 20-hour-long audiobook before it was due back and I read other books before picking up the ebook). I liked the two protagonists, enough that I’m curious about what happens to them next, but the second book is 23 hours long and undoubtedly won’t resolve everything either. Maybe another day.

Tuyo by Rachel Neumeier: Ryo is left as a “tuyo” -- a sacrifice to be killed by an enemy -- as a sign that his tribe will withdraw from the Ugaro’s war with the Lau. But his captor doesn’t want to kill him, he wants Ryo to help him stop the war. Neumeier effectively creates tension between people who are polite, honest and honourable, and shows an intriguing relationship, defined by mutual respect, fealty and something more familial. There’s also some unusual magically-defying-physics-as-we-know-it worldbuilding but apparently I was far more interested in the character dynamics. I enjoyed this. Sequel, please?

From All False Doctrine by Alice Degan: My favourite book this year! Toronto, August 1925. Elsa Nordqvist, who hopes to write her MA thesis on a recently-discovered Greek manuscript, is at the beach with a friend when they meet two foster-brothers. This meeting deftly sets up everything which follows. The cover says “A Love Story” but this is also like a cross between a Golden-Age mystery novel and a fairytale retelling, with bonus academia and Anglicanism. I really like how much these characters value their friendships, their lively, intelligent and often honest conversations, and the way the romance unfolds. It also feels like a story written just for me and a hard one to review because my reaction has been very personal.

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark (narrated by Julian Thomas): Set in the same city as A Dead Djinn in Cairo, this novella follows two agents from the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities as they investigate a possessed tram car. The world-building is vivid and cleverly, thoughtfully, imaginative. But, perhaps because of the mood I’m in and because this story isn’t interested in exploring the personal lives of its detectives, I have no feelings about this.

The Angel of Crows by Katherine Addison: Sherlock Holmes wingfic involving Jack the Ripper murders. Not what I’m looking for in a Holmes retelling. But I was sufficiently intrigued by something the author wrote. I really like Crow and Dr Doyle (arguably more than their original counterparts). My interest wavered a bit during the second half. It closely mimics the style and structure of the original mysteries in many ways and that’s not my favourite style. I wanted fewer cases to solve, and more of Crow and Doyle interactions. I liked the ending, enough to be glad that I hadn’t given up halfway through.

Making Friends with Alice Dyson by Poppy Nsowu: Australian YA. Alice plans to spend her final year of high school staying invisible and studying hard, but is thrown into the spotlight after someone posts a video of her dancing with Teddy Taualai. I loved how intensely this captures Alice’s emotions and perspective, and how the story explores that people have different emotions, perspectives and needs. Alice seems to me like someone who might be on the autism spectrum -- and whether or not that’s what the author intended, it’s great to see characters like her represented. I wish it had unpacked her relationship with her parents more, but that didn’t negate how much I enjoyed this. 

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han (narrated by Laura Knight Keating): I can’t remember why, after I read To all the boys I’ve loved before and P.S. I still love you in 2017, I decided against reading the third book. It turned out to be my favourite. I loved it! I had a different experience of finishing high school and applying for university, but I find Lara Jean’s perspective intensely relatable: she has strong opinions about aesthetics; she’s nostalgic, introspective, stressed by uncertainty; she enjoys spending time at home with her family. I liked how this book captures her wonder at the intimacy of knowing another person well, and how, although she sometimes worries about their future, she has very few doubts about Peter himself. I haven’t come across very many YA novels in which a teenage girl is so secure being in a relationship. 

The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley:  After her sister dies, Eva stays with family friends in Cornwall, where she and Katrina spent summers years ago. I wasn’t expecting time-travel. I like time-travel stories, and I like how Kearsley handles it here. Eva’s choices make sense, given her situation, and the story emphasises that, even though she cannot control when she travels in time, there are still many choices she can actively make. So Eva becomes fascinated with 1715, because of the people she meets there and the relationships they develop... but I wanted to spend more time in the present-day Trelowarth, with its rose gardens and new tea room.

Flyaway by Kathleen Jennings: After she receives a mysterious note, nineteen year old Bettina flouts her mother’s rules for ladylike behaviour and embarks on a roadtrip with a couple of forgotten friends in search of her brothers, who disappeared three years ago. I loved some of the descriptions, especially seeing a rural Australian setting for this sort of fantasy. Jennings creates a wonderfully eerie atmosphere and the mystery kept me reading. However, the folktale parts of the story are dark, uncomfortably so. Very successfully Gothic, just ultimately not really my brand of Gothic.

The Duke Who Didn’t by Courtney Milan: There’s something so incredibly soft about this romance -- yet at the same time, it’s about two people who work fiercely towards their goals, worry about things, and are acutely aware of the discrimination they and other they love face as Chinese people in late 19th century England. Chloe and Jeremy’s relationship is characterised by banter and gentle teasing that reveals just well they know and accept and care about each other. Moreover, they have friends and relatives -- and a community -- who are supportive. I really enjoyed reading this and appreciated how low-angst it is.

The Threefold Tie by Aster Glenn Gray: Very tender. The characters convinced me that they were capable of communicating honesty with each other and making an unconventional relationship work. I liked the prose, which is no great surprise. 

Hamster Princess: Whiskerella by Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher): This time, adventure finds Harriet at home: her parents are throwing a masked ball so she can “meet some nice young princes without terrifying them”. But the princes are all preoccupied with a beautiful stranger, and Harriet is distracted by the mystery: who is this hamster, how did she get in without an invitation and what sort of magic is behind her glass slippers?  I think this is my favourite of Harriet’s adventures (so far). I loved the humour in this one.

Echo North by Joanna Ruth Meyer: When Echo finds her missing father unconscious and half-frozen in the woods, she is given a choice by the white wolf. A retelling of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” with elements from “Beauty and the Beast” and “Tam Lin” thrown in, this has so many things which appeal to me, including an unexpected and wonderful library. Yet I found it frustrating and slow; the prose and the characters are rather straightforward, and I predicted nearly all the twists (bar the finale). But I believe that this tale could delight a younger, or a less critical reader.

The Disastrous Début of Agatha Tremain by Stephanie Burgis: In the two years since she turned sixteen and dismissed her governess, Agatha has been free to disregard ladylike behaviour, studying the books in her father’s library and teach herself magic. But then her aunt arrives and insists upon Agatha making a social début. This novelette is another story that I suspect I’d like more if it had been longer, if some of its ideas had been expanded upon and some of the relationships been given more space to develop. Agatha’s aunt and her motivations were unexpected, and I wasn’t entirely comfortable or satisfied with how that was resolved.

Snow Day by Andrea K. Höst: This novelette takes place after the Touchstone trilogy, more specifically after In Arcadia. Two outsiders get to see Cass and her family on Snow Day, and reveal a bit about their upbringing on Kolar.  This feels very much like fanfiction which just happens to be written by the author. It is fun to see familiar characters through others’ eyes and the expanded worldbuilding is interesting, but as a narrative, it seemed somewhat incomplete. (Maybe she’s planning something more with these characters?)

[abailey]

wandavision / mcu phase 4 speculation

going under the tag for potential spoilers, but now that we are a few episodes into wandavision - which is supposed to kick off phase 4 and impact a lot of the upcoming films - i wanted to give my prediction for what might happen

in wandavision we watch wanda have the life she wants, with the man she loves, her two children, and hopefully - if we’re lucky - a well kept secret of an uncle pietro return. i’m still optimistic for that due to plenty of actors/actresses saying they had nothing to do with a project/marvel studios only for them to actually be working with them (tatiana maslany as she hulk is the most recent example!). so the fact that ATJ hasn’t confirmed or said anything could just be marvel keeping a tight lid on things. we know they sometimes don’t even tell their actors what type of scene they are filming. i also don’t think evan peters pietro will replace him, because it just doesn’t make sense. that isn’t her brother. she wouldn’t recognize him or have an emotional connection to him, and vice versa. i think evan peters will play a different role. but that’s a whole other tangent i could spend too much time on because i have a lot of thoughts about it.

ANYWAY all to say, i think we are going to continue to see her building this life that she wants. i don’t know if she is in 100% control or if someone is doing this to her, but either way, i think the series will end with her losing it all. vision, her brother (if he’s there), and her boys. 

or so we think.

i believe the tie in to dr strange is going to involve wanda looking for them across the multiverse - either with his help or he needs to catch up with her to stop her from breaking a fragile reality. i hope it’s not a “she’s crazy now / wanda is a villain now” arc, just a woman who has lost everything over and over again and now - knowing the full extent of her powers - is determined to get it back.

this will lead to a billy kaplan / tommy shepherd reveal. it could even be cool if the wandavision end credits was a high school setting of one or both of them just living normal lives. i don’t think it’s too out of reason to follow the idea that her boys were reborn/reincarnated or just adopted in the 2000s following the break down of her little pocket reality, making them teens in the present. plus then we would get the kaplan family (aka the best family) and (fingers crossed, marvel) the canonicity of billy being jewish. 

we also know that america chavez is going to appear in dr. strange 2. i think this is pretty significant not only for the YA connection but also because america and billy in particular have a big connection in the comics. he - in the future as the demiurge - basically creates her homeworld/her people (if i recall). what if she can help find the twins? she can hop across realities, she has a connection to one of them, and in the comics she is also looking for billy. so maybe that will be how they all cross paths with each other.

my theory is that dr strange 2 will not only be about wanda searching for/finding her boys across the multiverse and the consequences of that, but we’ll also get the beginnings of billy being the next sorcerer supreme meant to take over after dr strange. it would make sense that that sort of reveal would be in a dr strange movie. so cue a mentorship type of deal between billy and stephen that we might see expand in future films, that mirrors the kate/hawkeye relationship (and hopefully others). which will make what my theory about what the 5th avengers movie will be more emotionally impactful.

so by then you hopefully have billy, tommy, and america together. i believe kate will have already been released in her show, and cassie already exists and we know has been recasted, and - if rumors are true - we could also have a teddy and an eli by then as well. nate is probably going to appear since we have a confirmed kang but who knows when that reveal will happen.

all this to say. i believe that mcu phase 4 is essentially going to have this through line between the shows/films about gathering and bringing together the young avengers. wandavision kicks it off. i think avengers 5 (which kevin feige i believe confirmed will eventually happen? probably in phase 5) will be a young avengers movie. centered on the nate richards/kang reveal and conflict that occurs between the team, future kang, and the other heroes that are trying to stop him. give me the conflict between the YA and the adult heroes over what is right in this scenario! especially the shift for these kids going from “these are my heroes and my idols” to “no you’re wrong and i’m going to fight you over it”. i would like to see it!

alternatively, a young avengers disney plus show is they are cowards over a canonically mostly lgbt superhero team taking the spotlight but let me dream.

like it makes sense narratively as well. we can assume that after endgame, the avengers have sort of disbanded. or at the very least aren’t a defined team. tony, steve, thor, and natasha are either dead or gone. the world of heroes is shifting and expanding, and how cool would it be for the next avengers team to be a bunch of kids who are doing it out of the belief that someone has to, and if the adults won’t figure it out, they will. 

[trashyswitch]

Logan’s Trip to [REDACTED]

Chapter 2: Logan's Second Round of Visits

Logan describes his first experience inside the SCP Foundation, and tells them about the volunteer opportunity.

Two weeks later, Logan heads back to the SCP Foundation for a few more days to meet some new SCP's and meet up with his personal favorites.

For @kanene-yaaay! 

1st chapter: The First Ever Foreign Visitor

Logan opens up the door to the car, and removes the eye mask from his face, while the passenger removed Logan's luggage from the trunk of the car. As he hands the driver the mask back, he thanks the driver and the passenger for the wonderful opportunity.

"Well, I'm glad to know you enjoyed it. And, I believe we'll be seeing more of you in the future?" The driver clarified.

"Of course! I could never pass up a volunteer opportunity like that." Logan replied.

The driver smiled. "Sounds good. See you in two weeks." The driver said, before hopping into the car.

Logan smiled. "Bye." Logan replied, watching the car leave the front of the house.

Logan grabbed onto his luggage, and pulled it up to the door. He knocked on the door, and waited patiently for someone to open it.

In a matter of seconds, Logan heard loud sprinting footsteps up to the door, and watched it open to reveal: Roman! And Patton!

"LOGAN!" Patton and Roman yelled at once. Roman and Patton pulled Logan into a strong, sandwiched hug that nearly knocked him down.

But, Logan didn't mind the familiar touches. "Hi...I'm back." Logan said with a crooked smile.

"Welcome home Logey! I made you cookies!" Patton cheered. Logan's smile widened into a toothy smile at the sound off cookies. It reminded Logan of SCP-999 almost immediately.

Logan walked himself into the kitchen and grabbed a couple cookies off of the cooling rack. "Hey Logan. Welcome back." Virgil greeted, walking into the room and giving Logan a gentle pat on the back.

"Hi Virgil. It feels good to be back." Logan replied, ruffling his hair a little bit. Logan bit into one of the cookies, and smiled wide at how amazing they tasted! Patton giggled with a toothy smile, reading his facial expression as a hint to his success at the cookies.

Roman gasped at the rare, large smile on Logan's face. "Wow! I don't think I've ever seen you this happy before!" Roman commented.

Logan paused his smile, and took another bite of his cookie. Bits of cookie crumbs fell down his face as he attempted to explain his happy mood. "Shorry. I'm shtill exshperiencing the effectx of the SCP'sh..." Logan explained with his mouth partly full.

"So...what was it like, being surrounded by FBI agents?" Virgil asked.

Logan swallowed his chewed up cookie. "More like Men in Black characters, but bald. All of them had shiny bald heads. Even the General Manager had a bald head! If it weren't for his bigger-sized belly, I wouldn't be able to tell him apart from the rest." Logan explained.

Patton rested his chin on his hands, and listened to Logan's story in awe and wonder. "The building was huge. You could've easily gotten lost in there, if you didn't have a map with you. Which, for your ease of mind, I did have a map with me, and it helped me immensely." Logan explained.

"Cool. What were some of the SCP's like?" Virgil asked.

Patton gasped. "Yeah! Were they all scary? Or were there friendly SCP's as well? Tell me! Tell me, tell me, tell me!" Patton asked and pleaded, grabbing onto Logan's wrist as he jumped and whined.

Logan giggled at their onslaught of questions. "Well, there were a few scary ones. You know that Creepypasta that was written about SCP-173?" Logan asked, referring to Virgil.

"Uh huh. The one that looked like a weird, deformed baby?" Virgil recalled.

"Yes. That photo is 100% accurate. No photoshop, no touch-ups, a true photo taken of SCP-173." Logan told them.

Roman's eyes widened. "No way..." Roman reacted, unsure of whether Logan was joking or not.

"I'm not kidding. At all. There's also an alligator with a mane and an exposed ribcage. It's called SCP-682, and it's super strange-looking..." Logan told them. Then, Logan begins to smile a little bit. "But Patton, you are right: There are plenty of safe and friendly SCP's that could be perceived as 'cute'. For example: there's a multi-patterned teddy bear known as SCP-2295, who can make organs out of fabric and do successful organ transplants with no rejection issues." Logan explained, remembering the cute little teddy bear, covering its eyes and squirming around as it was being tickled. "There's a pair of tiny robotic eyes, known as eye pods, who follow you around like a bunch of house cats. Now only that, but there's even a coffee machine with a keyboard attached, that's able to dispense whatever you type into the keyboard." Logan explained.

"A coffee machine that dispenses anything?" Virgil asked.

"Yup. For example: I requested a cup of 'liquefied Strawberry Crofters Jam'." Logan explained.

"AND IT WORKED?!" Patton exclaimed. Logan nodded his head. Patton's eyes widened to the size of saucers. HOW DID THAT WORK?! Patton couldn't process such a thing!

"But, I do have a personal favorite SCP. I never expected to pick favorites, but..." Logan explained, before his lips morphed into a big smile that just couldn't be wiped off his face.

Patton's placed his hand on his chest. "Awwww! Did you find an adorable puppy?" Patton asked.

Roman put on a teasy sexy face. "Oooh, did someone fall for a hot and shhmmmexy SCP?" Roman asked, teasing him with a few elbow nudges.

"Guys, cool it on the guesses. Logan's gonna tell us." Virgil told them, throwing an arm out to the side, to shut them up.

"Thank you, Virgil." Logan said, fixing his tie. "And Patton?...You were the closest." Logan told him. Patton cheered on the spot, pumping his fists up in the air.

Roman looked over at Patton, and quickly wanted to keep asking questions. "Well? A dog? Or a cat? Did it have extra limbs? Or, was it a supernatural puppy with the key to the universe?" Patton asked.

Logan just laughed at his guesses. "Ihihit was no pet. It was...a glob. Of orange jelly." Logan explained. Patton's eager smile slowly dropped...and his whole face morphed into complete confusion.

"Huh?!" Patton asked.

"Yes. It's name was SCP-999. It was a glob of orange jelly, that actually had the density of peanut butter. It had the ability to stretch and bend into different sizes and shapes, but mostly preferred being in a semi-ovalled glob on the ground. It was a little bit like the glob of goo from Monsters Vs. Aliens." Logan explained.

Virgil let out a chuckle. "Really? Only it was orange and not named Bob?" Virgil asked.

"Yes. And, non-verbal." Logan added. "Now, you are going to love this next fact:" Logan said, before clearing his throat. "It has been given a nickname by the SCP scientists. SCP-999's nickname is 'The Tickle Monster'." Logan explained.

Patton's eyes widened, and a huge smile showed up on his face. "THERE'S A TICKLE MONSTER SCP?!?!" Patton shouted.

"Yes, there is." Logan replied with a smirk. "The SCP is meant to give off feelings of happiness and joy. One of its favorite activities, is tickling people. And let's just say...I got destroyed by the orange glob." Logan told them.

"Really?" Virgil asked. "So, you can now openly admit that you got tickled by an actual tickle monster?" Virgil commented.

Logan shook his head. "It's all very classified. I have to keep my mouth shut." Logan told them.

Patton frowned. "But...you just told us about it..." Patton mentioned. Logan looked around for a moment, and smiled awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head.

"Weeeeeelll...I gotta tell somebody, because otherwise I'm gonna lose my mind! Who can experience something like that, and NOT have someone to talk about the experience with?" Logan asked.

Patton shrugged his shoulders.

Virgil nodded his head. "He's got a point." Virgil commented.

Patton nodded, before smiling. "So, tell me more about this tickle monster glob!" Patton offered.

Logan smiled and continued to talk about him. Logan mentioned his love for candy, and how he reacted to the M&M's it got to eat. He told them about the adorable personality that the SCP possessed, and he told them about how squishy the SCP felt in his hands. "It was so strange! It felt like jello, but...not jello." Logan explained. In the end, Logan had declared that his favorite part of the trip was SCP-999, and he also explained the volunteer opportunity he had been given. Roman and Virgil cheer him on for earning himself a volunteer experience at a classified place. But Patton, while he congratulates him, seems...hurt. So, Logan happily cuddles Patton that night, to keep him calm about being away more often.

"I'll be here for about 2 weeks before heading off again. Don't worry. I'll keep you updated." Logan told him.

Patton, despite feeling like he had lost a son to society, put on a smile and nodded his head. "And I'll make sure you're all stocked up on cookies before you leave for the trip." Patton replied.

Logan smiled and gave Patton a kiss on the forehead, before continuing his cuddle session. It sounded like a nice plan, to help Patton get used to this new change...

[2 WEEKS LATER]

Logan walked into the SCP Foundation entrance behind the jet staff that escorted him off of the plane. Dr. ████ walked himself up to Logan and offered a handshake. "Mr. Sanders. We meet again." Dr. ████ said, pulling Logan into a light hug and a pat on the back.

"Thank you." Logan replied, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "But I would like to suggest something: If we are going to be working together, I would appreciate if you called me Logan, instead of Mr. Sanders." Logan told him.

"Mr. Logan?" Dr. ████ asked.

Logan chuckled. "No, just Logan. I'm not used to this Men In Black way of talking, and it kinda...draws the line for being formal to me." Logan explained.

Dr. ████ nodded and chuckled. "You relate this cooperation to the Men In Black Franchise?" Dr. ████ asked.

Logan nodded his head. "Yes! The only difference is the shiny baldness!" Logan replied confidently.

Dr. ████ laughed a little bit. "All the Security guards are advised that their hair is shaved off, to help us recognize them as one with the SCP Foundation. They were also given this advice, to try and prevent scalping incidents'. Though, that's only for the security guards. The scientists have hair nets, so they're allowed to grow hair." Dr. ████ explained.

Logan's eyes widened. Was someone scalped in this facility?! Yikes! That would be very painful!

"Yeah, I would never want to deal with that." Logan told him.

"I don't think anyone would." Dr. ████ mentioned.

After their little talk, Logan (with the help of the security guards) was brought to his room. When the room door opened, Logan walked in and placed his suitcase under his bed. When Logan was ready, one of the Security Guards gave Logan a few labelled key cards with multiple levels, and a Walkie-Talkie with the correct channel on it.

"Thank you." Logan said to the man.

"Have fun." The security guard said, before walking away. Logan walked into the room, and took some time to work on the mapping of the place. He labelled the new SCP's he wanted to meet and visit, and he also labelled the SCP's he wanted to visit again.

When he felt fully prepared, Logan picked up the map and got up to head out. When the door was closed and sealed up, Logan smiled and began walking to the right of his room. Logan focused his eyes on the first numbered containment room that was there: SCP-348. Logan places the correct key card into the slot, and for it to beep. When the green light goes off, Logan removes it and opens up the door.

Inside, there's a metal table, a wooden chair, and an empty white bowl with a spoon on the left side of the bowl. Logan, not sure what to do at first, sits down at the table and opens up his backpack. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil, and begins just writing down the SCP number, and the item it shows itself to be. Logan looks up from his notebook, and was about to lift up the empty bowl. But, he pauses himself when he feels his thumb dip into some sort of warm liquid. Logan looks up from his notebook, and blinks in surprise:

The spoon had been moved to the right side of the bowl, and the bowl itself, was full of what looked to be chicken noodle soup. Logan, surprised but curious, lifted up the spoon with his hand, put a couple noodles and broth onto the spoon, and gave it a taste test.

Logan's eyes widened. It tasted like the Campbell's* Chicken Noodle soup that Patton used to give him on sick days or cold days. Logan often appreciated Patton's gesture, and the Campbell's can of soup was always his favorite. Logan smiled happily, and ate some more of the soup. Though Logan's mind was somewhat questioning where the soup had actually came from, Logan's restless thoughts seemed to have rested, thanks to the distracting and satisfying taste of the soup.

Logan continued to eat his newfound bowl of soup, while he wrote some stuff down into his notebook. But soon, Logan began to pick his pencil up less and less, and began focusing more and more on his bowl of yummy chicken noodle soup.

Soon enough, the soup bowl was completely empty. Logan frowned at the bowl, feeling disappointed that the bowl was empty. But, Logan's frown softened when he saw that the empty bowl had a note on the bottom of the bowl.

{Get well my Nerdicorn. I love you!}

Logan's heart softened drastically. Nerdy unicorn, or Nerdicorn for short, was Patton's little nickname for him. Whenever Logan would be sick, Patton would feed him soup, encourage him to sleep in his unicorn onesie and tuck him into his galaxy bed. By the time Logan had fallen asleep, Patton would still be singing a little song to him. It changed, depending on the day. But, every song Patton would sing him, the voice would become a loving, caring and a pretty sound to hear. His voice would slowly turn angel-like, and fade away as he dozed off to sleep. By the time he would wake up again, Patton would be finishing up something and coming in to check on him. On more than a few occasions, Logan has even woken up with a stuffed animal of Patton's. Logan would always feel the urge to smile when he saw one of Patton's 'special' stuffed animals tucked into his arm. His 'special stuffed animals were the ones that Patton loved the most. They were always the more 'pampered' and most-loved stuffed animals. But, when you found one of his special animals in your arms, you immediately knew that he trusted you with them.

Logan shook himself out of his memories, and brought his focus back on the white blur in front of him. It took a second for Logan to question why his vision was blurry...but the answer quickly dawned onto him when he felt wet tears dripping down from his eyes.

Logan was crying amidst his reminiscing.

Hoping and praying that no one was watching him, Logan quickly wiped the endless amounts of tears in his eyes. Bits of tears even managed to drip into the bowl. Logan took off his glasses, placed them aside and used his shirt collar to deal with his teary eyes. Gosh...It was like having seasonal allergies again...except, with the yearning to cry replacing the chest issues.

"Hey Mr. S- Logan? You okay?" said the black thing in his pocket.

Logan looked down, and pulled his Walkie-Talkie out of his pocket. He clicked the 'call' button on the wide of the walkie-talkie, to send a message over. "Yeah, I'm alright. The soup SCP-348 gave me...made me bitter-sweetly nostalgic." Logan explained.

"Ooooh. Okay. I'll write that down and add that to SCP-348's file then. Thank you." The doctor replied.

"You're welcome." Logan said, before putting his walkie-talkie back in his pocket. Logan put his notebook and his pencil into his bag, zipped it up and threw it onto his back. All ready to go, Logan opened the door with the door button and headed out.

Logan pulled out his map, and figured out the directions towards the next room he wanted to visit again: SCP-999!

Logan smiled excitedly, and had to stop himself from sprinting in the halls. He headed up a small flight of stairs, and used his key card to open up the door at the top. Then, Logan double checked his spot on the map. When the numbers seemed to have matched the numbers on the map, Logan closed it and headed to the right side of the hallway. It took a few twists and turns, but he soon made it to the room. Logan pulled out his key card again and let the slot read the code. The door turned green and opened up. Logan excitedly ran up to the door, and restlessly waited for the slot to read his card. When it opened up, Logan ran into the room.

"999! I'm here!" Logan said excitedly. SCP-999 turned around and sprouted a huge smile onto his face. SCP-999 let out excited gurgles and quickly slid itself over to Logan and quickly pulled Logan into a big hug. "Hi! Aww, I missed you so much! Yes I did! Yes I did!" Logan reacted, quickly petting 999's head and sides, and squishing 999's cheeks eagerly. SCP-999 decided to return the loving gestures by fluffing Logan's hair, and nuzzling its face into Logan's face and chest. Logan giggled contently with a toothy smile, as his glasses fell down all askew from the nuzzling. It was too much happiness to handle! And Logan was LOVING it!

Though SCP-999 wanted to tickle Logan right away, it really wanted to see if there were any treats in his bag! Last time, Logan had given it a bag of M&M's! Is there any more treats for the gurgly SCP?

999 decided to find out. The blob placed Logan down, and used a pseudo-pod of theirs to lift up the backpack by the handle. When it wanted Logan to slip out of the straps, it tried sneaking a pseudo-pod under the man's shirt and tickling Logan on the stomach and the sides. "BAAAhahahahahahaha! Nihihine nihihihihine nihihine! Lehehehet gohohohoho-" Logan giggled helplessly, waving his arms in the air before slipping out of the backpack. Interestingly enough, 999 had readied itself for Logan's fall! It caught Logan with a second pseudo-pod, before resuming the tickle attack onto Logan's armpit. "OHOHOHO GEHEHEHEHEEZ! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHARMPIHIHIHIHIHITS! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Logan shouted, already losing his mind before being placed down.

Logan quickly fell limp and practically flopped onto his back. But, Logan quickly sat himself up to look at what SCP-999 was doing. It looked like SCP-999 was snooping around in his backpack! "Hey! Get outta there! That's mine!" Logan ordered. But, the SCP didn't listen. It just began digging itself deeper and deeper into Logan's backpack. As the items in the backpack fell out of the bag, SCP-999 continued searching for more stuff before simply giving up and instead, began gurgling as the backpack sat opened on its head. Either fabric-made side of the backpack zipper was blinding 999's vision. But, 999 didn't seem to really care!

Logan just bursted into giggles at the look of the backpack on SCP-999's head. When Logan was done, he stood up again and walked up to the SCP. When Logan lifted up the backpack off the blob's head, the blob gave it a guilty, but starry-eyed look. Logan bursted out laughing at the rest of the orange glob: All the items in Logan's bag had been sucked up in the SCP's gooey insides. The orange glob let out a gurgle of pride.

"As much as this scene is adorable to see, SCP-999 is capable of digesting anything and everything it comes across. So...you might wanna remove your stuff before it becomes the SCP's dinner..." The walkie-talkie told Logan.

Logan's laughter slowed down somewhat. A toothy smile had claimed his face, and the man had to wipe a small tear from his eye. But quickly, everything clicked in Logan's mind. 999 COULD EAT HIS STUFF! Logan let out a yelp and quickly sprinted up to the glob. Logan shoved his hand into 999, and quickly began removing item after item. Despite the fact that the orange glob was made of (he assumed to be) gelatin, none of his items came out wet or stained with orange liquid! Logan lifted an eyebrow as he stared at the notebook, that he believed would be a goner. But...incredibly, it wasn't! With that underway, Logan pulled out everything else that had ended up in SCP-999. His sweater, his glasses' case, his pens and pencil sharpener, his book, everything came out dry and unscathed.

Logan giggled as he looked at the breathless creature. The removal process was very shaky, thanks to SCP-999's inability to sit still. Apparently, shoving a hand inside SCP-999 was not weird in it's eyes! It actually made the glob smile widely and gurgle in excitement! Though it didn't really make sense, it was still amusing nonetheless...That was, until 999 decided to get revenge. Now that just killed Logan with fits of giggles.

In a moment's notice, SCP-999 had spawned another Pseudo-pod arm and brought it above Logan's head and onto the back of Logan's neck. Almost as soon as the wiggly fingers started, Logan lifted his shoulders up and threw his head back in giggly laughter. "Hahahahahaha! Nohohoho neheheheheheck!" Logan giggled. Almost immediately after hearing that, 999 moved the pseudo-pod over to the side of the neck and wiggled its fingers again. Wahahahait, nohohoho dohohohohohohon't! Hehehehehehehehe!" Logan's giggles continued. Now, the pseudo-pod was tickling in all sorts of spots on the neck! The sides, the back and the the front were never left without a few seconds of unpredictable tickles. "Hahahahahaha! Cohohome ohohohohohon! Yohohohou're sohohohoho ehehehehehevihihihihihil!" Logan said through his giggles.

In an attempt to level out the playing field for once, Logan decided to try tickling SCP-999 back. But...where was he gonna start?! He couldn't decide! But, the hidden spot under the psendo-pod happened to be right in front of Logan. So, Logan shoved his hand under the pit of the pseudo-pods.

But...nothing happened. 999 didn't react. It didn't gurgle in surprise. It didn't even flinch...Logan's eyes widened. "...Oh..." Was all that left Logan's mouth. But, SCP-999 didn't start tickling him again. SCP-999 actually made new pseudo-pods and lifted them up in the air to expose the spots underneath.

Logan's eyebrows raised at the pacifism the glob was showing him. "Wait, really? You...want me to try tickling you?" Logan asked. SCP-999 gave Logan a happy gurgle in reply. 999 was actually giving Logan a second chance to try tickling it again! Logan didn't wait another second. He skittered his fingers under the 'arm' pit to try and get it to react. But, it didn't make much of a reaction!

Logan lowered his wiggly fingers down to the sides of the orange blob. Suddenly, 999 let out a surprised yelp! Logan pulled his hands back quickly, in fear of hurting it. "Sorry!" Logan exclaimed in a frightened voice. SCP-999 tilted its head to the side. It brought the pseudo-pods up to Logan's sides, and tickled them a bit. "Hehehehehehe! Ihihi thohohohought- I thought-...wait a second-" Logan reacted, before wiggling his own fingers on 999's jelly-like sides. 999 began letting out happy gurgles and shaking a little bit. Logan's confidence as a ler began to slowly get better as he tried wiggling his fingers on the belly region. The gurgily little blob continued its shaking and began curling in as more excited gurgles left its mouth.

Logan couldn't believe it! The tickle monster was TICKLISH! But- But how was that possible?! This thing wasn't human, or animal-like! It was gelatin! Pure gelatin!...right?

Logan continued tickling it as much as he could, and tried tickling other spots as well! It tried the upper side of the blob, and managed to get some hidden laughs within the gurgles! That must've been its laughter! Logan also tried the sides of where the neck should've been. In response, 999 grabbed onto Logan's lower arm with its pseudo-pods, and shut its eyes as giggly gurgles left its transparent body.

As a last spot to try, Logan walked up to the back of the blob, and tried wiggling and drumming all 10 fingers up and down the SCP's back. SCP-999 actually squealed and stretched itself up! When Logan's fingers wiggled on the SCP's lower back, 999 actually let out giggly gurgles and, get this: Bounced its body away from Logan! It didn't slide away! It full-on bounced away! It was absolutely, positively ADORABLE! Logan covered his mouth with surprise, and let out an excited squeal of his own! The blob was even cuter than he could handle!

"I-I'm sorry, WHAT?! HOW HAVE YOU MANAGED TO GET THIS CUTE!" Logan yelled, mentally unable to handle how adorable this creature was.

Hilariously, SCP-999 interpreted this yelling as excited praise from the man! So, SCP-999 bounced and gurgled for joy at the thought that 999 was a good blob!

"Can-can I cuddle you? I really wanna cuddle you. I can't wait a second longer. I have to. I need to cuddle you. I need you to know how much I love you. Can I please cuddle you?" Logan asked desperately. SCP-999 allowed Logan to cuddle them, and showed that by sliding itself over to Logan. When it was close enough, Logan hugged the SCP as hard as he could without separating any of the blob contents, and nuzzled his face into the SCP's chest area.

After a good 10 minutes of nuzzling 999, Logan got a funny little idea and wanted to try it out. Logan quickly recalled a memory of Patton tickling him and giving him little raspberries on the belly and ribs. So, Logan decided to try a little raspberry on 999! Logan took in a big breath and blew a big raspberry onto SCP-999's chest. The SCP's black little eyes and orange mouth actually widened at the weird feeling, and fell into a long fit of giggly gurgles. Not only that, but the SCP's body made jiggly ripples and almost vibrated along with Logan's raspberry!

Logan removed his mouth and breathed in, smiling genuinely as the blob shook and lightly jumped in place. The SCP seemed to love it! So, Logan did more raspberry's! He rasp-berried 999's belly area, 999's neck, 999's sides, and lastly: 999's back! Though for the back, Logan kept his raspberry short and sweet. SCP-999 made all kinds of strange but lovely little sounds! The SCP let out surprised little squeaks, lots of gurgily giggles, even gurgily laughter left the SCP's body! That SCP may be a little blob of orange gelatin, but BOY, did it make some ADORABLE sounds!

Logan ended up falling into another giggle fit from the sounds and jiggly body alone! He couldn't take it! It was so adorable and so lovable!

Despite how drugged up on happiness Logan appeared, the two companions did end up having some regular fun together. Using a tennis ball that the Doctor supplied for him, Dr. ████ asked for Logan to attempt a game of catch with the SCP. Before the game started, Logan had to introduce the inanimate object to the SCP. So, Logan started off by bringing it close to the SCP.

"This is a ball. A Tennis ball." Logan told him. The SCP looked at the tennis ball for a few seconds, before looking back up at Logan. "It bounces." Logan told him, before dropping the ball onto the ground. Logan allowed the ball to bounce around in front of it. At first, the SCP cowered away from it, and backed itself against the wall. So, Logan grabbed the ball again, and bounced it in front of himself. The ball bounced up and down, up and down, up and down in front of him, and did end up hitting Logan a few times. Despite the SCP's nervous reaction, Logan allowed the ball to bounce off him. It also showed the SCP that the ball couldn't hurt him.

Slowly, SCP-999 brought itself closer to the bouncing ball, and watched it bounce up and down with curious eyes. Logan caught it one more time, walked himself over to the ball of orange jelly, and gently dropped it onto the SCP's lower body. As soon as it made contact with the SCP, it bounced right off it like a trampoline, and right back to Logan! SCP-999's eyes widened with surprise and curiousity. Wanting to try bouncing the ball itself, SCP-999 held out a pseudo-pod to place it into. Logan smiled and placed the ball onto the top of the pseudo-pod. With his hand free, Logan pulled out his walkie-talkie and explained what just happened to the Doctor.

"SCP-999 has noticed the ball's harmless affects. It is holding the ball now, and looking at the fuzzy exterior." Logan told Dr. ████.

"Good. Very interesting..." Dr. ████ stated. Dr. ████ looked away for about 5 seconds, and looked back at the cameras. "Whahahat thehe- Hahahahaha! What is it doing?!" Dr. ████ reacted, laughing at the SCP's behaviour.

Logan was laughing as well. SCP-999 was bouncing the ball as high as it could, and was stretching and collapsing its body up and down along with it!

"Ihihit looks like SCP-999 has decided to bohounce along with it!" Logan said through a few more laughs.

In the middle of its bouncing, SCP-999 looked back at Logan, and noticed him laughing at him. But, SCP-999 didn't seem phased by this at all, and only continued to bounce around beside the ball. The SCP's body slowly began to resemble a circular ball shape, and SCP-999 began bouncing around the room! Logan only continued to laugh at the SCP's silly reaction, and walked a little closer to the bouncing SCP.

Upon noticing Logan's approach, SCP-999 smiled wider! 999 bounced itself closer to Logan, and began jumping in circles around the man! Logan had to bend down to try and catch his breath. It was such a strange, but hilarious reaction, to a ball! A BALL! But Logan DIDN'T expect however, was for SCP-999 sneak up behind Logan, wrap its arms around Logan's belly and pull him into the bouncy mass! Logan was surprised, and almost terrified at what SCP-999 was doing to him. SCP-999 was still bouncing with Logan wrapped within the bouncy mass! Logan didn't know how to react! The feeling of the floor getting farther and closer every 5 seconds was quite nauseating at first. Logan was usually never motion sick. But then again, Logan's never experienced being bounced around by someone else before. Usually if a human did this, it would be considered 'inappropriate/neglectful behaviour' that could cause whiplash. But ironically, Logan wasn't crying out in pain from any whiplash...

Despite Logan's strange reaction, Dr. ████ believed this behaviour should stop as soon as possible. He was about to try and stop the SCP's jumping in order to save Logan...But, he began to hear a voice from the cameras...

"Whooohohohoa, whohohohohoa! Sohohoho bohohouncyhyhyhyhy!"...Dr. ████ lifted an eyebrow. Wait a second...Was Logan laughing?! In excitement? Or, was he being tickled again? Dr. ████ slowly backed his finger a couple centimetres away from the room speaker. He wasn't sure what to do. "Thihihihis ihihis sohohohoho weheheheheihird! Buhuhut, Ihi lohohohove ihihihit! Thihihis ihihihis ahahahahawesohohohome!" Logan declared through adrenaline-filled laughter.

Dr. ████ moved his finger away from the button completely, and smiled.

Logan's thoughts had managed to go from 'Let me go! This is SUPER nauseating' to 'This is so much fun!' in a matter of 10 seconds! SCP-999 must've been working its magic on Logan, in order for THIS to occur.

Dr. ████ smiled and watched the scene for a bit longer, before placing his finger onto the speaker button. "Okay, SCP-999. That's enough." Dr. ████ ordered. SCP-999 paused its jumping around, and looked up at the speaker in its room. "I know you love playing with Logan, but you need to be careful, remember? Humans are easy to break." Dr. ████ told 999. SCP-999 nodded its head and placed Logan down onto the ground.

"You okay, Logan? You're not nauseous or in pain, are you?" Dr. ████ asked.

Logan was still experiencing some giggle fits from the bouncy adventure he had just been on. "Thahahahahat wahahahas ahahamahahazihihing..." Logan babbled through his giggles before rolling his eyes back and flopping backwards onto his back. The pressure of his back hitting the ground, didn't end up hurting him. It only caused Logan to burst into louder, more bubbly giggles. "He's experiencing too much euphoria. We need to get Logan out of there asap." Dr. ████ ordered. In a matter of minutes, a couple scientists opened up the door, and picked up the giggly man.

As Logan was pulled away, a third scientist came in to give SCP-999 its food. SCP-999 was left confused, and somewhat hurt from his friend's quick disappearance. No goodbye? Not even a wave? Or a smile to say he's okay? SCP-999 began to worry that it may have hurt Logan. Dr. ████ seemed to hear this guilt from the guilty gurgles that left the SCP's mouth. "It's okay, 999. Logan is alright. When Logan gets better and visits some other SCP's, you can visit him tonight. Does that sound good?' Dr. ████ compromised. SCP-999's smile and its starry-eyes came back for a few seconds at the idea. Then, SCP-999 calmed itself down enough to eat the sugary food it had been given.

It took a few minutes of tests and experiments, but Logan had managed to snap himself back into normal. When asked about Logan's experience of being bounced around like that by 999, Logan stated the following: "It was like my life was flashing before my eyes. But...it was a good space-time experience". A couple of the doctors had laughed at his strange answer, and kept it as a quote to put into SCP-999's file. Even Dr. ████ visited Logan for a bit. He told Logan that SCP-999 was worried about you, but seemed to have calmed down when he put together a second play date in a single day to make up for the strange experience.

When Logan felt a lot more coordinated and less 'overwhelmed by euphoria', Logan was sent out on his own again to visit and meet some other SCP's. Logan had pulled out his map and began to follow the map's directions towards a somewhat underappreciated SCP that Logan's been wanting to meet. Logan put his map away when he was close enough, and pulled out the key card as he walked up to the door.

[SCP-529]

The sign read. Logan inserted the key card into the slot, and waited for the slot to read the card code. When it flashed green for 'open', Logan opened the door and closed it behind him. Logan walked himself up to the window, and looked down at the SCP before walking in.

The SCP appeared to be a grey female cat with dark grey strips on its body. It appeared to be a normal, medium sized cat. But one thing difference stuck out: the backside of the cat was missing. It looked like someone had hacked off the legs and the behind of the cat, and left some fur to cover up the big hole slightly. Logan's eyes widened. No wonder this cat was in the SCP Foundation! It was living its life without the need for a prosthetic!

Logan slipped the key card into the slot, and waited for it to turn green. When it did, Logan opened up the door and poked his head into the room. The cat sat its neck up, and looked at the person that had entered its room of solitude. Logan smiled and walked into the room, and gently closed the door behind him. In an attempt to be kind to the cat, Logan knelt himself down and presented his hand to the cat to smell. In curiousity, the cat sat itself up onto its 2 feet, and walked up to Logan. Logan watched in fascination as the cat did the impossible: The cat walked like it had 2 invisible back legs! It was managing to defy all ordinary laws. This may have been a big reason as to why the cat was an SCP. Nonetheless, the cat appeared to still act like a normal cat. She proved this to Logan by sniffing his hand for a scent. Logan smiled and watched as the cat got to know him through his scent.

When the cat was done, the cat actually rubbed her face against the hand, encouraging Logan to pet her. Logan happily obliged, and began giving the cat little scritches on the ears. The cat began gently purring and closing its eyes as one of its favorite spots to be touched, was lightly scratched and massaged. The cat seemed to also like being scratched lightly on the neck. This was proven by her curling into Logan's scratches on the side of her neck. The scratching managed to make the cat curl in so much, that the cat's body flopped onto her side as she laid onto the scratching hand. Logan let out a soft giggle as he continued the scratches on the cat's neck.

As Logan scratched the cat's neck, Logan began to feel a thin cat collar surrounding the cat's neck. Grabbing onto the collar, Logan read the name tag that was on the collar:

[Josie] [If lost, call [DATA EXPUNGED].]

"Josie...That's your name, huh?" Logan asked. Logan watched as the cat lifted her head up upon hearing the specific name. Logan smiled. "I'm Logan." Logan replied. The cat brought itself up closer to Logan, and sat down. Though the hind legs were missing, the cat's position was still able to resemble about the same sitting position that every cat does. That was something that fascinated him. It was mind-boggling to him, that a cat could still sit, stand and walk around without proper hind legs. Logan smiled and removed his hand from the cat's neck before opening up his backpack. Logan rummaged around in his backpack a bit, and pulled out a light blue ball of yarn from the bag.

"Listen here, Josie. This yarn was given to me by a very special person, named Patton." Logan told the cat. Logan pointed at the yarn. "This color, is Patton's favorite." Logan told the cat further. Josie began inching her face closer and closer to the yarn, and lifted its paw up to whack it with its paw. "Patton happily sacrificed an entire ball of yarn, so that you can have something to play with. I hope you enjoy." Logan told Josie, before lightly throwing it. Josie took off sprinting and jumped at it, landing on the blue yarn with her front paws dug into it. Then, Josie began grabbing it with her teeth and started 'chasing' the ball of yarn around the room.

Logan smiled as he calmly watched the cat play with the yarn. The more that Josie played with the yarn, the more unraveled the yarn became. So soon, Josie was forced to choose between the yarn laying on her back, and the big ball of yarn sitting beside her. She quickly chose the large ball of yarn, and began tackling it around the room. Amidst the tackling and the playing, Josie had managed to tackle the ball of yarn towards the human. Logan looked down and smiled upon seeing the yarn. The cat patiently watched Logan, and readied herself to run and catch the yarn with her front paws. Logan smirked at its playful behaviour, and gave it a light throw. The cat jumped up to catch the yarn, and ended up catching it midair!

...Only for the cat to land on its side. She caught the yarn though! Logan giggled in reaction. "Good job!" Logan praised, clapping for the cat.

Josie continued to play with the yarn, and knock it everywhere around the room. Logan happily watched the cat for a few more minutes, before beginning to take his leave. The cat seemed pretty content without him around. Logan had predicted this outcome, and wasn't really hurt by it. Logan knew that the cat would recognize him as the 'person who gave him a play toy' in the future.

Logan left the room and pulled out his map. He placed his finger onto the highlighted SCP door number, and carefully dragged his finger down and around the building halls to figure out how far it was. When Logan felt confident enough to start following his path, Logan began walking and following the signs, turns, and the landmarks that were around him. It didn't take long for Logan to reach the first entry room door:

[SCP-662]

Logan pulled out his key card, and inserted it into the door slot. When it opened up and flashed green, Logan removed the key card and opened up the door. Upon seeing the second door and the window, Logan looked inside the window and raised an eyebrow in confusion. The room was just a table, a chair and a velvet bell box. That was it. Logan looked to the left, looked to the right, and finally brought himself over to the door of the chamber. Logan inserted the key card, waited for the light to turn green, and opened it up. Closing it behind him, Logan walked himself up to the velvet box, and gently removed the lid. Upon looking at the silver bell in the case, Logan immediately made his movements much more gentle. Logan reached his hand down and gripped the bell handle firmly, to avoid dropping it. Lifting it out of the velvet case it was sitting in, Logan lifted it up further to see the inside of the bell. There appeared to be no ringer inside it. Was it like this when they found it? Logan wasn't sure.

Logan, wanting to further investigate the ancient bell, began carefully looking at the smoothness of the bell. Upon first inspection, the bell seemed to be well-polished for an antique item. Though it's not refurbished, it's still better kept than some of the antique china that still exists...

Logan lifted it upside down, to look inside the bell better. The silver ball inside the bell appeared to be missing completely. The deep part of the bell was empty, and there was a little joint piece missing from the inside of the bell as well, leaving a little hole inside. Done his investigations, Logan turned the bell back around right side up. Logan was about to put the bell back into the casing, but a formal, deep voice froze Logan's movements:

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders. How may I be of service?" the voice said behind him. Logan gasped and hugged the bell desperately, as to not drop the antique object.

"Oh my gosh. You scared me!" Logan exclaimed, before turning around to actually look at the stranger who scared him.

"I apologize, sir. Perhaps I could interest you in a glass of water to calm your nerves?" The man asked. Logan's eyes widened as he looked at the partially bald, formally dressed man in front of him. Logan just stared at the man, who appeared to be stuck in the 1900's era of life. Looking at the Butler's tray, there was a glass of water just waiting to be drank. After a good minute or so of staring at the water, Logan reached his hand up and grabbed the glass with his right hand.

With his left hand, Logan slowly reached for his walkie-talkie, and pulled it out of his pocket. He clicked the 'on' button on the side. "You guys have an English BUTLER?!" Logan yelled, smiling widely as he observed the 'de-aged' Alfred Pennyworth. Logan took a gulp of the water, and swallowed it as he waited for the doctor to reply back.

"Yes! In fact, we do! His name is Mr. Deeds. He's shown himself to do almost everything you command him. I repeat 'almost', as celebrity assassinations, cannibalism, and super large things that can't fit on his tray, are politely permitted." Dr. ████ explained.

Logan let out a hum in somewhat understanding. He placed the walkie-talkie onto the table, and removed his backpack before walking up to the butler curiously. He looked up at the butler's partly bald hair-due, and looked all the way down to the butler's well-polished shoes. Logan could tell that the owner of this butler appeared to be quite wealthy. Logan began examining the butler from the sides. There wasn't much to look at, besides his hairline and the gloves the butler was wearing. But, it was still examination nonetheless.

"If you do not need me, then I shall be going." Mr. Deeds spoke.

"You're needed right no. I need you to just stand here, so I can further examine what era you may be from." Logan told him as he headed to the back.

"Well, alright." Mr. Deeds muttered without another thought. Logan grabbed onto the shoulders of Mr. Deeds, and felt the soft material that the suit jacket was made of. "Do you remember what your suit is made of?" Logan asked.

"I do believe that this suit is made from silk. Silk was the primary fabric that would be worn among the rich. And I do remember the house I worked in had very wealthy members." Mr. Deeds told him. Logan smiled as he walked himself back to the front of the butler.

"Okay." Logan said.

"Is there anything else you would like me to do before I go?" Mr. Deeds asked.

Logan thought for a moment, and smiled. "Yes. Would you please get me a 1920's style coke?" Logan asked.

"As you wish." Mr. Deeds said, before walking out of the room. Mr. Deeds came back a few minutes later, with a glass bottle of coke with the Coca Cola logo edged into the glass bottle.

Logan picked it up and looked at the bottle. "Fascinating..." Logan commented, spinning it in his hand. Logan looked at the metal cap, and began struggling to remove it.

"A bottle opener, sir?" Mr. Deeds asked, presenting the steel bottle opener to Logan on his tray. Logan looked up and smiled as he saw the old fashioned bottle opener.

"Thank you." Logan said, picking it up and pulling the cap off with some pressure. Logan placed the opener back onto the tray before placing the cap into his pocket. Logan took a quick drink of the coke, and widened his eyes in surprise. It...actually tasted fine! A slight bit different compared to the coke they had now, but quite good for expired cola. "This is really good." Logan commented.

"I'm glad you enjoy the taste of the classic coca cola taste." Mr. Deeds said.

Logan smiled. "You can go if you like. It was nice meeting you." Logan said to him.

"Very well sir. And I to you, Mr. Sanders." Mr. Deeds said, before walking away and disappearing.

Logan smiled as he clicked the exit button on the room door, and walked out with the coke bottle partway up in front of him. Logan left the room, and smiled as he pulled out his walkie-talkie. "I think I'm ready to visit SCP-999 again." Logan told the doctor.

"sounds good. Now, I will warn you that you can't take liquids on the jet ride home. We don't want you drenching your clothes." Dr. ████ told Logan.

"I'm aware. Am I allowed to take the bottle home though?" Logan asked.

"I think that can be arranged." Dr. ████ replied.

Logan smiled. "Perfect." He replied before putting the walkie-talkie into his pocket again.

Logan happily walked himself down the halls of twists and turns, and soon reached the familiar door. Pulling out his key card, Logan did the usual card-reading routine and opened up the door. He repeated the routine with the second door, and smiled upon seeing the orange glob.

"Hi 999." Logan said eagerly. SCP-999 slid itself right to Logan, and pulled the nerd right to the cuddly monster. Logan smiled and giggled lightly as 999 nuzzled its face into his cheek. "I know. I'm okay. I feel a lot better now." Logan reassured. SCP-999 cuddled Logan for a minute more, before placing Logan onto the ground.

Eager to play with the ball again, SCP-999 picked up the ball and bounced it. Logan, thinking he was gonna be picked up and bounced again, winced and gave 999 a pity smile. "No more bouncing me. Okay?" Logan told him. SCP-999's smiled dropped slightly, before nodding and giving the ball a light throw to Logan. The ball bounced a few times as it headed over, and landed into Logan's hand.

"Would you like it back?" Logan asked. SCP-999 nodded and readied its pseudo-pods eagerly.

"Okay." Logan said, before giving the ball a light throw back to it. The ball bounced a few times, and SCP-999 had to slide around and chase it around a little bit. Logan giggled as he watched, and readied himself to catch it.

SCP-999 caught the ball, and gurgled happily at its accomplishment. Logan cheered for him. "Great job!" Logan praised. Suddenly, SCP-999 threw the ball right back at Logan! Logan gasped and threw his hands up before closing his eyes nervously. He felt a slight hit in the hand and gripped around something round. Suspecting he may have caught the ball, Logan opened his eyes.

What do you know! Logan managed to catch the ball right in front of his face! Logan smiled and lowered the hand down. SCP-999 was gurgling happily and clapping its pseudo-pods at Logan's successful catch.

Logan steadied himself, and lightly threw the ball back. SCP-999 caught it this time, and threw it back to him. The pair soon began a game of catch! And surprisingly, SCP-999 absolutely loved the game! Logan could immediately tell.

When catching the ball, SCP-999 would come up with new ways to catch the ball! it tried stretching up and catching it with its mouth, it tried catching it with stretched pods, and it even tried bouncing it back to Logan! It was a simple game, turned fun super quickly by a hyper, dog-like monster and a caring, playful human.

Near the end of the day, Logan and SCP-999 were found sleeping beside each other. SCP-999 was sleeping in its ball-shaped sleeping position, while Logan was leaning his back against the side of the ball. Despite Dr. ████'s want to get Logan to his bedroom, Dr. ████ couldn't help but notice just how cute this pairing was. So, he let them sleep together for a while. When the time turned 10, Dr. ████ left a couple lights on for the man, and gave him an LED flashlight from the 999 drop box. When the flashlight had fallen out of the drop box and onto the pillow below the drop box, Dr. ████ turned on the night vision, set the building in night mode lighting, and left the room for the night.

Tomorrow was another full day for Logan to hang out with the SCP's...

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 16X11

I really loved this episode! There were so many things I liked! The thing I liked most was how funny it was! I died laughing! I was hollering with laughter the entire time! It was SO funny! I haven't laughed that hard at something in ages! I also loved the chemistry between Meredith and Hayes aka McWidow! I loved their easy banter and how well they worked together. I loved that Cormac could admit when he was wrong and be gracious about it. And the way they worked together in the OR! They were like a seamless well-oiled machine. It's really cool to see Meredith work so well with someone who has the potential to be a great romantic partner and whose on her level professionally! In all of her past relationships there was always a power imbalance. I love her and Cormac together!  

I love how in just a few short episodes Hayes has already endeared himself to Cristina, Jo, and Amelia! They are not easily impressed and he's already won them over! I love that! I think there's a lot of potential there. Meredith and Hayes aren't even dating yet and this relationship already has more support than any other she's ever been in. I'm so totally here for it! It's about friggin' time! Also what ship name are we using for Meredith and Cormac's budding romance? I've seen people using everything from Grayes to McWidow to McIrish! I'm a Grayes and McWidow fan myself so that's what I've been using so far. Now onto the recap. Meredith’s Voice Over this week is all about why people don’t go to the doctor and we open on her texting her favourite person: Cristina. I love their exchange!

Meredith: What do you mean by gift? Cristina: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: Professional or personal? C: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: I need more information!! C: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: You’re not funny

On the contrary Meredith I think Cristina‘s hilarious and she knows exactly what she’s doing. Wink wink. Amelia and Meredith are in the Attendings Lounge and following her text exchange with Cristina, Amelia asks Meredith if they’re have been any Maggie sightings today. She says she sent Zola up with food but she refused and that they’ll know when to push her. I love Meredith and her sisters! I sometimes wonder what things would have been like if Lexie had lived and Cristina had stayed. It would be cool to see the five of them together. We find out that Amelia has decided to tell Link about her pregnancy news but she hasn’t told Meredith as she has no idea what the hell Amelia is talking about.

Enter Hayes! He notices that a pregnant Amelia is struggling to tie her shoe and like the gentleman he is offers to help! Swoon! Meanwhile Meredith has no idea what to make of the man who last time she saw him bite everyone’s head off and drove her up the wall and is now tying her pregnant sister’s shoe for her. I love it! Amelia is impressed! Hayes offers Meredith coffee but she says she’s good. He makes small talk and then leaves. As Amelia says, “That is a very well wrapped gift.” Why yes it is! Meredith is annoyed as she still doesn’t know what to make of Cristina’s “gift” so she unties Amelia’s shoe! Haha I love it!

Meanwhile Teddy has lost her engagement ring! Which turns out to be a Hunt family heirloom. Oh dear. Jo promises to keep an eye out while Teddy continues to search. Next we find DeLuca sitting in a side room doing research. Meredith walks in. She tells him that he told her to take some time to think which she didn’t like because two people who are together should think things through together. Truth. When you’re in a relationship with someone and you’re truly committed you work and talk things out together. You don’t just throw a hissy fit over your own insecurities and walk away which is what DeLuca did. Instead of responding to this obvious truth and acting like he gives a crap DeLuca instead starts talking about a routine lap appy that he did on a patient whose not getting better.

Here’s what bugs me about this scene. Last week DeLuca was so eager to get back together with Meredith that he came crying to her sister, his ex, for help. This week he couldn’t care less about her and acts like they don’t even know each other. This guy is all over the map! They’ve rewritten DeLuca’s character so many times at this point I’ve lost track. Which is one of the reasons I don’t like him. He’s inconsistent, poorly written, and just an overall jackass.

Also I think it’s interesting that DeLuca broke up with Meredith because he couldn’t handle the fact that he’d never compare to Derek or be on their level skill wise but now that he needs help he turns to the great Dr. Meredith Grey for advice. Very telling. When Meredith wanted to be with him personally, he walked away because he couldn’t handle the fact that she was better than him professionally. Now that she wants to talk things through, he couldn’t care less and only wants her help professionally. What a loser.

DeLuca refuses to even address her comment and instead talks to her professionally as if they barely know each other. And he wonders why everyone hates him? Meredith is having none of it. Thank God. She tells him she’ll think on it and that he should fill Bailey in. Before leaving she leans over and whispers to him that she misses him in Italian. Meredith then turns and leaves. It’s only after this that we see any kind of normal reaction out of DeLuca. It’s as if he suddenly remembers they used to date.

DeLuca smiles and calls after her that he didn’t dump her, so she doesn’t have to miss him. Meredith walks away. Fun fact: that’s called gaslighting. DeLuca showed up to Meredith’s house after she got her medical licence back, compared himself to her dead husband, and then threw a temper tantrum about his own insecurities and how they weren’t partners and told her to take some time.

He then claimed to Link and Nico that he didn’t dump her, got schooled on it, and eventually went to Maggie for advice. He admitted to her that he meant what he said. Now that Meredith wants to talk instead of apologizing he’s gaslighting her. DeLuca keeps claiming he didn’t dump her all the while refusing to apologize or address the issues at hand. They’re not equals and they never will be. That hasn’t changed and he meant what he said so there’s really nothing to talk about here.

Also DeLuca claiming that he didn’t dump Meredith when in fact he did doesn’t change those facts. Also what is his plan here? Does he really think being a passive aggressive asshole is going to win Meredith back? DeLuca’s an idiot. Last week and the episode before that he whined to everyone about how he didn’t dump Meredith and wanted to get back together. This week she wants to talk and all he does is treat her with coldness and make passive aggressive comments. He’s first class idiot and Meredith deserves better. It looks like she may have found it in Hayes and I couldn’t be happier!

Another reason why I'm totally a Grayes fan? "Listen Grey this is your house, but someone gave me a key so maybe it's best if we try to learn how to live together," Is such a low key epic line. Like hot damn. I'm not one for pick up lines but damn son. Also I love that he follows it up with, "Welcome back Dr. Grey. I can see why you were missed." Like damn. He's been a pain in the ass to work with all day and he knows it, but he can also admit when he's wrong and do it gracefully and I love that

Also Hayes is so into Mer. He could have said anything to her as he exited the elevator and he goes with a straight fire pick up line about how someone gave him a key to her house so they should learn how to live together and he can see why she was missed? Damn. I'm so sunk. I'm so into this ship and Hayes has only been in three episodes! I can't wait to see more of Meredith and Hayes together! They have so much in common and they are such a slow burn! I love it!

I love that Hayes doesn't brag about being right about the vaping case. He totally could have and he chose not to. Meredith didn't brag about the Jamie Caldwell case and she totally could have and choose not to. I love that they have this mutual respect already. It's also cool to see a new male doctor on the show that doesn't brag and gloat every 5 minutes. Real talk that is one of the most annoying things about the remaining male characters on Grey's. I'm really liking this new guy.

Also I love that Hayes went from not understanding who Meredith was talking about at the beginning of the episode to being super curious and intrigued as to how she knows Cristina by the end of it. He definitely wants to know what the story is there. In other non-Grayes related news Amelia finally tells Link the truth that the baby might not be his. It’s heartbreaking and devastating to watch.

Amelia makes this great speech about how she loves what they have and why she loves him, but that she understands that he needs time to think. We’ve seen such growth from Amelia this season. I’m so proud of her. We get an update on the residents and find out that Bailey took some time off after her miscarriage. Of course Koracick doesn’t know that so he’s being his usual asinine self. We meet the patient DeLuca was talking about. Her name is Suzanne. She’s very sweet and has two very cute kids and a loving sister who want her to get better.

Even more tragic we learn that Suzanne’s partner died last year. He had a migraine that got so bad he went to the ER, but the doctors sent him home saying he would be fine. He died shortly thereafter so now her kids are terrified of hospitals. Oh god. Honey you are at the wrong place. They don’t call it Seattle Grace Mercy Death for nothing!

We see Hayes and Meredith meet in the hallway. Mer wants to address the elephant in the room and says she’s not sure what Cristina said to him and wants to know more. Only Hayes has no idea what she’s talking about. As soon as Mer realizes this she stops talking and says Never mind. Hayes isn’t deterred though and he keeps asking questions until she distracts him by asking him if he’s going to the pit. I love the ease that Meredith and Hayes already have with each other. I love the way she smiles when she talks to him and I love how persistent he is when it comes to the truth! It feels like we got the old Meredith back and I love it.

Hayes is confused as what the pit is. Meredith explains she’s talking about the ER. He asks why they call it that. Meredith says she doesn’t know. I love scenes where they talk about the medical language and slang different countries and cultures use. Right after they get there a 17 year old kid named Kai starts coughing up blood. They begin working together and start treating him. Meanwhile Maggie is still at home hiding. Richard comes to see her and through some ingenious text messages convinces her to answer the door.

During this scene Justin Chambers’ name appears and he is credited in this episode despite the fact that he does not appear. This makes sense seeing as episodes 1 - 12 would have been filmed last year while he was still under contract. Man I miss Alex already. Fun fact from this episode: Richard Webber can cook! This man is full of surprises. Who knew? Back at the hospital Jo comes to talk to Link who tells her about Amelia’s baby news. Just as they start to talk a man calls out for help and they run over to help him.

“All these blue pyjamas, I can’t get any help over here?!”  LOL this guy! It turns out this man swallowed an entire fish and then while being rushed to the ER his friend accidentally slammed his hand in the cab door to the point that it’s gushing blood! Yuck! Back at the house Richard is dismayed by all of the places there are to put food and the lack there of it! Some things never change. Aw! There’s a photo of Zola in her Day of the Dead outfit on the fridge! Also I love the Pac Man style ghost drawing! A+ for whoever’s kid drew that one!

Maggie just wants to be left alone. Richard refuses to give up. Meanwhile, Owen has the day off so he comes to see Teddy at the hospital. He wants to talk wedding plans but she tearfully tells him they can’t because she lost the ring! Owen reassures her and tells her that it won’t be an issue because they’re going to find it. Which admittedly is very sweet of him.

It turns out this guy knowingly ate a potentially poisonous spiky puffer fish from a bar aquarium at his bachelor party on a dare. Yep. That happened. I bet this isn’t even made up. I bet you anything someone’s actually done this. I love Jo’s line, “I honestly worry for your entire gender sometimes.” Hahaha Jo! Same here girl same here. Jackson, Jo, and Link scrub in on fish guy. Link tries to act like he’s cool with the whole unknown paternity thing and Jo calls his bluff.

As Jo says, “You can love her and be mad at her at the same time. Both things can be true.” Wise words indeed. Amelia goes to talk to Owen and Teddy only to find them looking for the ring. Owen gets a text saying Leo just threw up all over daycare so Owen and Teddy run off to deal with that leaving a confused and anxious Amelia behind. I’m confused as to why Amelia stayed behind. Leo is her kid too. Why didn’t she go with them?

Meanwhile Meredith and Hayes are giving Kai a CT scan. Hayes comments that he’s got a couple of boys at home that are Kai’s age. He says he had to read a whole book on brain function just to manage to forgive them for everything they do. Meredith laughs in response as Hayes tells her that he came home the other night to find the oldest one throwing a tennis ball as hard as he could at the youngest one’s head. And that the game was could his brother dodge it before he got brain damage. Meredith, being a parent herself, laughs in response because she gets it. She then apologizes saying she shouldn’t laugh at that because it’s actually not funny.

Gosh the way he looks at her! I just love it. I love their easy laughter and how they understand each other’s experience. Losing a spouse young and having to raise a bunch of kids as a single parent while running a department is no picnic. Hayes is just perfect for Meredith. He’s everything she needs and wants. I love it! Hayes then opens up to Meredith and explains why he acted the way he did the other day. He says it was a tough day for him and that he gets a bit dark this time of year because it’s when he lost their Mum to cancer.

He says he hopes that the two of them can start over and Meredith says sure. She’s been there and is there. She knows what’s it’s like to lose a spouse and get all dark and twisty over it. I think it’s great seeing Meredith with someone whose dark and twisty like she is. I’m tired of all this fluff. I want to see her with someone who’s as screwed up as she is. Who gets it. They can be dark and twisty together. Meredith asks him how long it’s been since she passed. Cormac answers that she’s been gone two years ago last week. Because she’s been there she tells him two years is tough but that it gets better.

As she says, “Two years is tough. Gets better. Not all the way better obviously, but a little bit better.” Meredith’s been there so she knows what she’s talking about. Hayes is about to respond when the CT scans pop up. I’m looking forward to seeing Meredith address being a widower more. It shouldn’t be the whole focus but getting to see and understand her experience as she moves forward with someone new who understands her pain is critical. I’d also love to see her talk about Derek and her other deceased loved ones more. Dating someone who understands that kind of pain could make it easier to talk about. You shouldn’t have to hide your love for someone. I’d love to see Meredith and Hayes go on a dinner date and talk about their dead spouses and what they do and don’t miss. You don’t stop loving someone because they die and Mer deserves someone she can talk about that stuff with.

She shouldn’t have to hide her love for Derek anymore than Hayes should have to hide his love for his wife. They need to be able to talk about that stuff and I look forward to seeing them explore that more. Meredith and Hayes look at the scans. The kid’s supposed to be an athlete yet he’s got the lungs of a 60 year old smoker. Meredith is baffled but Hayes says he’s seen this before. “I bet you a naggin he vapes.” Yikes! Hayes comes to talk to Kai’s Dad and his friends. His Dad is in disbelief but based on their reactions Hayes deduces correctly that the boys know something they’re not saying.

Telling them that this is no time for secrets Hayes gets them to open up and they admit that Kai vapes but don’t think it’s that bad because half the school does it. Cormac is having exactly none of that and schools them on the fact that vaping is similar to smoking in that you’re putting chemicals into your lungs which are meant inhale air not smoke or chemicals. Hayes shows them a picture of a healthy lung and another photo of their friend’s which looks awful. They act flip in response and he promptly loses it on them. Hayes tells them to get out of his face and that the stuff is deadly just as Meredith comes down the stairs. Kai’s Dad is freaked. Hayes explains that his son’s not dying but thinks the only way to help him is to repair his esophagus and remove part of his lung.

Meredith disagrees. She thinks they should try to stop the bleeding by coiling the artery which is the least invasive option and what she‘d want for her own kids. Kai’s Dad is swayed and says he wants to go with the option Meredith presented. Cormac concedes and says they’ll get back to him. As they walk away he tells Meredith he’ll defer to her going forward, she tries to make amends, but Hayes says that’s not necessary. He clarifies that he’s not being passive aggressive or trying to make an issue out of it. Meredith believes she can do it, Kai’s Dad wants her to try, so she should be the one to do the procedure.

I love this for so many reasons. If this same scenario happened with one of Meredith’s other love interest it would be a whole thing! Derek would have had a field day, Riggs would have been pissed, and DeLuca would have thrown a temper tantrum. Hayes? Nah. He’s cool as a cucumber. He’s not mad or upset. He’s doesn’t treat her poorly or patronize her. He graciously accepts defeat, defers to her, and moves on and I love that. Meredith deserves someone like that in her life. We all do.

They have some nice banter about how Hayes keeps accidentally terrifying his patients’ parents and he tells her he was trying to terrify the kids who are Kai’s friends from school. I love how easily they get along. Back at the house Maggie and Richard talk. She wants to be left alone. He wants to know why she quit. She explains about the mix up with the perfusionist and not knowing the protocol at Pac North. Maggie asks Richard to go and he leaves. Back at the hospital Teddy and Owen are looking after a sick Leo. They get an x-ray to try and figure out what’s going on.

And figure it out they do! It turns out that Leo ate Teddy’s ring! Over in the OR Meredith and Hayes are operating on Kai and she’s got on her mint green scrub cap today with the swirls on it. I like seeing all of her different scrub caps and the metaphor they embody about how she’s moving on with her life post-Derek’s death. Meredith deploys the coil while Cormac attempts to backseat drive which annoys her. He tells her he didn’t want to do it because there’s often a re-bleed and seconds later it happens.

Hayes wants to open him up, but Meredith thinks she can deploy another coil. Hayes tells her they don’t have time. I love their exchange in this scene. Meredith says, “I’m sorry,” and Hayes responds, “Don’t be sorry. Tried it your way. Now help me with mine.” He could have gloated and being a real jackass about it and said I told you so but he didn’t. He admired her willingness to try and when her way failed he didn’t gloat or make an issue of it. In fact he told her not to apologize and instead asked for her help in doing it his way. Because that’s what being a mature adult is all about. Accepting defeat and triumph graciously and asking for help when you need it. Just one of the many reasons I already love Hayes as a character.

Meanwhile, Jo, Jackson, and Link are still operating on fish guy. It’s rough going. “Every time I think I’ve seen the craziest, dumbest things a person can do the ER’s just like ‘Hold my beer.’” Oh Jackson! This line! LOL. Meanwhile Meredith and Hayes are still operating on Kai. He tells her in the interest of full disclosure that this isn’t the first time he’s had the debate about whether to coil or resect. Mer doesn’t find this very comforting. She responds with, “So I was wrong but I’m not alone? Thanks.” Hayes clarifies and says that last time he was on her side and he insisted on the coil even though his colleague adamantly disagreed.

Hayes says he didn’t even get as far as Mer did before it all went sideways. So Meredith asks, “Who was the colleague?” And Hayes replies, “Head of the Klausman Institute: Dr. Yang. Absolute nightmare.” Hahaha oh Hayes you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. I love that knowing look Meredith gives him too. Elsewhere Bailey and DeLuca are giving Suzanne a CT scan. She does not like it at all. They rule something else out but still can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. Then Koracick walks up. He’s confused as to why the Chief of Surgery is doing follow ups on a routine appy and chastises her for it mockingly. Bailey gets up and closes the door in his face like a boss.

Just then Suzanne starts coding. For the first time in ages we see DeLuca whose Chief Resident actually practicing medicine. In an even bigger shock he actually does his job competently. Elsewhere fish guy is finally out of surgery. He’s trying to figure out how to his fiancée when she walks in. She is not happy. “You are dumber than a turtle!” She says. Can’t argue with that one. This woman is done. She’s had enough. She’s calling off the wedding. She says that last month her mother offered her $10K to push the wedding back a year and she told her no.

She realizes now that it was her not her mother who couldn’t see him for who he really was and this isn’t the life she wants. As she says, “When someone shows you who they are over and over you’re supposed to believe them.” Very true. Also I hope her Mom gave her that 10K after she called it off. Link seems to take this sentiment to heart although I’m not sure why. Amelia’s been open and honest with him and she’s better mentally than she’s ever been. Bailey and DeLuca promise Suzanne they’ll get answers. Back at the house Richard shows up again this time with groceries. I love this exchange. Maggie asks, “What is this? And Richard replies, “It’s called food. Let’s see what it’s like to actually eat some.” Haha I love Richard. He has the best lines. Maggie’s then talks about what Sabi meant to her and all the reasons Richard should hate her. In response he tells her about his Mom who died when he was 10. He says he doesn’t remember much but when he was upset, she would make them both pancakes.

And she’d say, “Let’s talk about it after you’ve had something to eat.” So that’s what he’s trying to do for Maggie. My heart. It’s nice hearing Richard talk about his Mom and learn more about his family. I like seeing him bond with Maggie more. Richard and Maggie have a heart to heart. He encourages her to get back into the OR. They talk about Sabi. Back at the hospital Owen and Teddy talk about Leo and the ring. He’s going to be fine but Teddy’s still distraught about losing it in the first place.

So Teddy and Owen reach a compromise. They’ll add some extra letters to her necklace to represent the whole family and put the ring in a safe for special occasions. And now Teddy has to sift through Leo’s poop. Isn’t parenting fun? Back at the hospital, Cormac talks to Kai’s Dad. They have a heart to heart and he thanks him for saving his son. Hayes meets Mer in the hallway. He tells her he won’t rub it in that he was right. She apologizes again. He chuckles and tells her that when he was on the other end Yang drive him mad.

He says she left him notes all over the place every day for months. “I was right you were wrong. Little pictures of respected lungs.” As Mer says, “Well that sounds about right.” I can so see Cristina doing that too! She’d think it was hilarious. She probably really liked Hayes as a colleague and he has no idea. Oh Cristina. Never change. Hayes is confused by Mer’s response and asks her about it, “Wait you know her?” Uh oh. Cats out of the bag. Mer tries to explain but can’t find the words. Hayes quirks some eyebrows and is intrigued.

In response Meredith stumbles over her words and then says, “Um ... I gotta go.” Oh Meredith. She walks away rather than face the truth as Hayes stares after her in confusion. I can’t wait to see this storyline play out! It has so much potential! Bailey’s about to leave for home but Koracick won’t let up. She’s finally had enough and so she tells him the truth. She wasn’t on vacation. She sat in her house for three days, drank tea, and cried her eyes out because she had a miscarriage.

He’s surprisingly sympathetic and tells her to light a candle. He tells her that his ex-wife Dana miscarried twice before their son David was born. He says that every year he still lights candles on what would have been their birthdays. Tom is such an interesting character. He’s a complete asshole one minute and the nicest guy you’ve ever met the next. Greg Germann does an amazing job portraying him. Also, can we talk about the fact that the man lost three children? His wife miscarried twice and then his son died young from a freak accident at school. 

It destroyed his marriage to the point that his wife eventually left to be with another man and he was broken he couldn’t do anything about it. Which is why Tom 100% did not deserve the crap Teddy put him through. That was BS. He deserved better. God dammnit. Also, I don’t understand why the other characters aren’t more upfront with Tom. He’s made it clear that if you’re upfront with him he’ll leave you alone. It’s only when he’s in the dark that he starts bugging people. Seems pretty simple to me. Just saying. Meanwhile, Link pages Amelia to the plant room. He’s upset she didn’t get checked out earlier and wants her to do a paternity test.

He’s calm and collected about it but also clearly upset. So is Amelia. She asks what happens if he’s not the father? He’s says he wants to be cool about it and say it doesn’t matter but he’s not sure how he feels yet. He says he wants to take things one step at a time. Amelia is devastated but she keeps it together as best she can. Watching her cry silently as her eyes fill with tears is gut wrenching. Amelia’s been through so much! I just want her to be happy god damnit! Also, I don’t get why the paternity matters so much. You either love someone or you don’t. You either want to be a Dad or you don’t. What difference do the genetics make?

We find Meredith running along a hallway. She runs into the scan room where DeLuca is pouring over paperwork. She says she got his text and suggests they go to dinner so he can clear his head a bit. Which is all very nice of her considering he dumped her over his own insecurities and has been nothing but a passive aggressive aloof asshole ever since. DeLuca in response bites her fricken head off and start shouting about his patient Suzanne and how he can’t help her. In response Meredith takes him by the shoulders and tells him to walk her through the case from the beginning.

Which again is very nice of her. If someone dumped me and then treated me like that I’d tell them to take a hike! I think it’s interesting that  Meredith’s Voice Over this episode is about facing up to the truth both good and bad and how important that is. In my mind this applies to her in two ways. One, she needs to own up and tell Cormac the truth about her and Cristina. Two, she needs to accept that her relationship with DeLuca is over and never would have worked out long term.

It also looks like Meredith is joining Suzanne’s case which could be interesting to watch. Personally, I’d like to see her work more with Hayes, but she hasn’t had a big case in a while so this could be fun. Next we see Bailey at the chapel lighting a candle for the baby she miscarried. My heart. Richard arrives home. Catherine’s not pleased to see him. She asks how his day was. He says it was uneventful. She says Dr. Wells from Pac North called looking for him. He tells her he spent the day trying to convince Maggie to come back to work.

She doesn’t believe him. He tells her their marriage can’t work if she doesn’t trust him. To which she responds, “Who said this was working?” Yikes! He asks her what she’s trying to say. She says she thinks it’s time for them to have a much bigger conversation. Real talk though I don’t understand Catherine this season. She’s been nothing but cold to Richard when he’s done nothing to her. Yes, he did something he shouldn’t have done while sticking up for Meredith but what does that have to do with Catherine?

For the first time in his life he’s married to someone he loves, he’s not drinking, and he’s not having an affair. That’s huge for him. What more does Catherine want? And he’s doing his best to be there for Meredith and Maggie as their surrogate father. All of the problems at this point are in Catherine’s head. He’s not cheating on her. He backed up Meredith because he loves her like a daughter. He’s supporting Maggie because he’s her biological father. That’s what you’re supposed to do for people you love for family. Sheesh.

Now onto this week’s promo! And it looks like we’ve got a stand-alone episode coming our way! It’s Catherine and Richard’s anniversary dinner and you know that’s going to be awkward! And it looks like Jackson invited Vic for some reason who invited Dean! Maggie is also in attendance. Oh boy. This is going to be one awkward dinner.

Until then!

[amplesalty]

Christmas 2019: Day 9 - The Christmas Hope (2009)

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Nine months of gestation!

On reflection, I can see that the past two entries on this years list have been a bit of a downer. Far too centered in talk of mental illness, depression and the like. Let’s perk things up a bit with...*checks notes*...shit.

Right now millions of people across the planet (or galaxy as it were) are enjoying/not enjoying the end to a very different cinematic trilogy. Me? I have a long overdue wrap up to attend to that started many moons ago thanks to a certain little film about a certain pair of shoes based on a certain song. Quite why I’m doing this know I don’t know. I can only suspect that I’ve seen one too many reflective social media posts now that we’re reaching both the end of a year and decade, perhaps I’m subconsciously wanted to sort out unfinished business, hence looking at stuff like this, Christmas Story Live and the Christmas Carol Musical.

The movie starts with Traci here recording herself singing a song before commenting ‘American Idol here I come!’. The camera pans all through her house looking at pictures of her daughter, soppy picture frames with ‘I LOVE YOU MOMMY’ written on them and no sign of a boyfriend/husband so she has the basis for a feel good story if she does make it on. Might need to jazz it up somewhere along the line if we’re to really tug at the audiences heartstrings but it’s a start. This actress would go on to play Vicky in the live action Fairly Odd Parents movies so that’s another tie in to a previous entry. Apparently there’s a third one of those and I’m not sure if I’ve seen it.

She literally runs into a couple on her way to work, knocking their teddy bear to the floor which they graciously give to her when she mentions that her daughter would love it. This is Nathan and Megan from The Christmas Blessing, sadly both recast. Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. Not sure I’d be able to take NPH seriously after all those H&K movies recently. Nathan is a bit more of a ginger this time around, rather than the dirty blonde thing NPH has going on. Megan is expecting and they have about a bajillion teddies so they don’t mind passing one along. Hey, someone probably got you that as a gift. Be grateful!

Meanwhile, the police arrest a drug dealer and find she has a malnourished baby in her apartment so in swoop child services to save the day.

Mr. T feels your pain.

I hope you weren’t getting too attached to Traci by the way because about fifteen minutes into the film, shortly after making a heartfelt promise to her daughter that they were going to decorate the Christmas tree once she got home from work and that she had a very special present for her this year, she promptly gets run over.

Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly; you freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, cause you're too fucking scared to think, you just freeze and pull a stupid face.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised given this is one of those melodramatic, Hallmark movies and this whole series has been overly morbid up to this point but it still kinda threw me. Here we are all nice and happy, Traci’s going about her day and there’s a nice Christian, soft rock Christmas ballad playing in the background and then BOOM, SUV to the face.

Then it cuts to her daughter, Emily, going through the Christmas decorations before settling on a angel which she ponders on for a moment before looking to the heavens as she’s having this moment of intuition.

But when child services pop their head in again to take her away, they find that all their usual helpers are fully booked for the holidays so what else can they do? One of the workers, Patricia, has no choice but to take her home. It’s not by the book but, damnit, it’s Christmas and we’re going to give this kid some degree of stability. By sheer coincidence, Patricia happens to be the mother of one Sean Addision who was the kid that died following a car accident the start of Christmas Blessing which caused Nathan to have his Dr Cox crisis of confidence moment. These movies are just ridiculous to how everyone's lives are so intertwined.

Like, up to this point, we met Traci who then bumped into Nathan and Megan, before going to work and having a young, troubled teen skip out on his bill but Patricia was in at the same time and tipped really generously to make up for it. That same kid then pretty much steals her bag following accident and also knew Sean who was mentoring him in one of those Big Brother mentoring programs.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, is played by James Remar, he of The Warriors fame and, more pertinent to this blog, he was in the Miracle on 34th Street remake and one of the segments in the Tales from the Darkside movie. Theirs is a very frosty relationship currently owing to the death of Sean, there’s no sense of chemistry between these two and I’m surprised they’re actually as close in age as they are, Remar only 4 years older. Feels like there’s more of like a 10-20 year gap. He gets on very well with Emily though, they have this instant rapport whilst Patricia is more distant which is understandable. She obviously has to keep things professional as she can’t get too attached to these kids and doesn’t want them getting attached to her, plus there’s probably ongoing issues from Sean’s death, maybe she’s not prepared to slip back into that motherly role again. Which you can tell by that dinner she serves; rolls of wafer thin ham, cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and celery? That’s just what all the kids want.

At least she’ll read Emily a bedtime story, ‘I’ll Love You Forever’ which documents a mother who sings to her song that she’ll love him forever, even when he becomes a rebellious teenager who thinks it’s lame for her to do that. This leads to the very strange visual of him cradiling her in his arms on a rocking chair and singing it to her when she’s old and frail, a mirror image of how she first sang to him when he was a baby. This really hits Patricia in the feels as she felt distant from Sean as he seemed closer to his father, wanting to impress him by picking the sports and classes he thought his father wanted him to take. She even seems to partly blame her husband for their sons death as he switched around his work schedule to come home early for Christmas, which in turn led to Sean coming home early too. If he’d just come home on the day he intended this never would have happened! That seems grossly unfair. Even when she passed along a family heirloom in the form of her fathers watch, he was unimpressed and even managed to break it whilst horsing around with a friend in his room.

The massively tangled web of these characters comes into play again when Megan is going through some things and finds an old Christmas gift which sends Nathan into some sort of Nam flashback. Turns out Sean was holding it as he was wheeled into the hospital and Nathan had taken it upon himself to make sure it found its way to its intended destination but he just forgot about it over the years. I actually went back to check this and ,yeah, that is in the previous movie. I had this whole thing pegged as just a series of independent stories with loose connections throughout but no, apparently they had whole plot points planned out in advance.

Nathan and Patricia do interact several times as she takes the crack baby to the hospital to be checked up. There’s this strange level of frustration akin to An American Tail where Nathan keeps getting little flashbacks in his head but he’s never quite able to connect the dots.

But of course he eventually does and the present turns out to be, say it with me now, the broken watch! Perhaps more meaningful though is the accompanying note which reveals Sean intended to study social work at college because he wanted to help kids just like his mom. This seems to serve as a form of closure for her but I feel like you could already start drawing that sort of conclusion. I mean, the guy was already in that Big Brother program so you were clearly already having some sort of influence on him.

Strike two of the big overly emotional finale comes when it’s suggested Emily puts the angel atop the tree which promptly makes her bolt out of the room. Everyone is left thinking they’ve upset her but she comes back clutching a picture which she wedges onto the tree, a picture not of her mother as I had suspected but of Sean. She says he is her angel and she feels like whenever she’s felt all alone, he’s been there to help here. Awww.

The big showstopper though is the troubled kid finally coming good and, after realising who everyone is in this story, returns Traci’s bag to the Addison home. Inside was her camera and on that camera was the video from the very start of the movie. Turns out she wrote that song as a Christmas gift for Emily.

Though, I feel the writers fell short of a grand slam here. Near the end, Nathan shares the story with Megan about giving the gift to Sean’s parents and how it gave him his own little bit of closure after how much Sean’s death affected him back then. Megan goes into labour shortly afterwards and I was fully expecting them to decide to call the baby Sean but no such luck.

Christmas Blessing was lacking a little bit in the big emotional ending so it feels like this one is making up for that and then some. It’s not as cheesy as that song from Christmas Shoes but still delivers that overly sentimental feeling. Again, it’s something I am loathed to admit but it got to me a little bit. This whole movie has that same morbid energy as the other two but in a slightly different way, the first two felt like you spent the entire movie watching people who were on deaths door before something happened at the end to soften the blow. Here they just give you the death right up front and everyone is left to cope with the aftermath and reflect on how deal with it. It’s like an encapsulation of everything that Nathan has gone through over these movies, facing death in his personal and professional life but coming to terms with it.

You know what’s bullshit though? No sign of the eponymous Christmas Shoes anywhere. They’re even in the box of stuff that Megan finds the old Christmas present in. How can you make this your big conclusion and not bring them back? You brought them back the last one, you couldn’t have Megan tag along and give them to Emily at the end as some sort of passing of the torch? It was her destiny, Nathan got them for his dead mother, Charlie got them for his dead mother, those shoes have been robbed of their purpose in life.