#i also realize this is insane and not very useful but I’m chewing plaster waiting for atn

[gideon-of-navareth]

After the “just some guy” incident I don’t trust that Hot Sauce is just called Hot Sauce because she likes hot sauce so my wife and I sat in a Subway for like twenty minutes picking out anagrams of Hot Sauce and really the only halfway legible ones were Chase Out and House Cat.

Is this anything

[calpalirwin]

Nights in the OR

A/N: This is called “I watch too much Grey’s Anatomy” so if you’re a fellow Grey’s fan in addition to a fellow Ashton ho, hi!

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

Nights on the peds floor we’re, in a word, uneventful. Low hums and beeps from machines doing their jobs while kids and parents alike snoozed between nurses prodding them awake to do their routine checks. You went through the charts of your patients, delegating a duo of an intern and older resident to each case with strict orders to page you only if something was seriously wrong, and a bright “Keep the tiny humans alive,” before making your way to the emergency room.

The trauma team usually ran the emergency room, a sea of green scrubs moving effectively and efficiently, assessing situations before paging the right departments, or diving headfirst into the work themselves. You caught sight of one of the doctors, a tall man in a shade of green scrubs darker than the rest in the room, and rolled your eyes. Attending trauma surgeon Ashton Irwin was about as arrogant as he was skilled, with an annoying habit of assessing quickly, albeit correctly, and working even faster on patients before shipping them off to the correct departments to deal with the fallout. You weren’t sure if that man had ever spent more than an hour, two tops, with a patient from start to finish. True to his arrogance and almost zero tolerance for sloppy mistakes, he was talking in hushed tones to a second year, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set, as the resident nodded frantically before running off.

Dr. Irwin took a moment to compose himself, giving the slightest shake of his head and relaxing his jaw, before turning to wherever he was needed next. His hazel eyes scanned the room, and even from where you were you could tell that they were more on the green side tonight as they met yours. He offered forth the smallest of nods and smiles in your direction, dimples indenting both sides of the smile.

You returned the gesture, before twirling your index finger about the room. Extra attending on hand.

He waved his hand. No need. Got it covered, thanks.

You smiled your best, I don’t give a damn smile, striding across the room to take a seat behind a computer, crossing your hands behind your head. And with little else to do on your part, you settled in for a long night of researching the pros and cons of artificial bones versus prosthetics in cases for patients with osteosarcoma, a joint effort you were working on with the orthopedic surgeon.

Around 2 in the morning, you took a break from your research to grab a cup of coffee and a small bite to eat. On your way back, you spotted the orthopedic surgeon with a patient. “Oh! Dr. Hood,” you said as you approached. “Come find me when you’re done. I have some ideas.”

The man swiveled on his chair to glance up at you, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “You’re not in OR 2 with Ash?”

“Nnnnoooo…” you said slowly, taking a sip from your coffee. “Why?” you followed up in a clipped tone. What had Dr. Arrogant done now?

Dr. Hood smiled politely at his patient, and got the attention of his resident. “Ma’am, we’re going to take you up for X-rays now, and then we’ll see about setting your arm for you, okay?”

The woman nodded, clearly shaken up. Then, “What about my husband and son?”

“I’ll get word, and update you as soon as I can,” he promised, before the resident escorted the patient up to X-rays. Finally he turned his attention to you. “Car accident just came in. Parents are a little banged up. Mike and Luke are working up the dad. You know how Luke gets about stitches.”

The both of you shared a chuckle. Luke Hemmings, the plastic surgeon, had very high standards for even the most basic of stitches, and if he was on hand and free, it was an easy bet he’d do the work himself. “So, what’s Mike doing with him then, if it’s just stitches?” you asked, referring to the general surgeon.

He shrugged. “General work up and clearance, I suppose. But the mom and the son’s side took the impact the hardest. Specifically the son. Ash didn’t page you?”

You scoffed. “Why on Earth would Ash page me, Cal? It’s trauma,” you raised your hands and voice in a mocking manner.

“Uh, probably cuz the kid is like seven.”

You growled low in your throat, hands going to tie up your hair. “OR 2, you said? How long ago?”

“Not too long. They gotta still be prepping. So if you hurry…”

“Thanks, Cal,” you patted the man on the shoulder before taking off at a run towards the OR rooms, briefly mourning your discarded coffee and potato chips in the process.

When you shouldered your way into the room, Ashton was in the process of scrubbing in, while nurses finished prep. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, arms crossing instinctively over your chest as you made your presence known.

Ashton shut off the water with his elbow, turning slightly to face you. “My job,” was the reply in a tone that questioned your intelligence.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “That,” you pointed out the window towards the child on the table, “is a peds case, and you know it.”

“It will be once it stops being a trauma case, yes.”

“Why didn’t you page me?”

“Because I don’t need you. It’s a trauma case. I’m a trauma surgeon. Now, you want to stop asking inane questions, and let me do my job, or you wanna stand here and fight with me all night?”

“It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who happens to be trauma certified. And I’ll be damned if you do some hacksaw job on my patient that I have to fix later when I can scrub in and do the correct job now. So, are you going to ask me to scrub in, or do you wanna stand here questioning my credentials all night when you know I’m right? Do not make me go above your head to the Chief, Ash, because you know I will.”

His jaw ticked underneath his mask, his eyes hard as he thought over your threat. “Well?” he snapped after a beat of silence. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to scrub in?”

~~~

It was a grueling surgery, working in tandem with Ashton. For all the shit the two of you gave each other outside of the OR, inside you were one of the best teams, each of you knowing each other’s moves before you made them, and knowing what the other was thinking in the subtlest of changes. Even with both of your focuses solely on the patient in front of you, you were both vigilant in sending Ashton’s intern out every hour on the hour with updates, in which you two were also informed of the parents’ recovery.

Just before the four hour mark, Ashton let out a small hum of approval and you nodded. “Close and get him a room on the peds floor,” you told the intern.

“You don’t want me to update the family?”

“No,” Ashton cut in, already discarding his gloves, mask, and removing his scrub cap, shocks of curly brown hair falling forward and plastering to his sweaty forehead. “I will. Give Dr. Y/L/N any trouble and you won’t see the inside of an OR for a month.”

The intern gulped, knowing their boss meant what he said and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Y/N, I’ll meet you after I update the family to make sure we’re on the same page for how to proceed from here?”

“If you can remember how to page me, that is,” you smiled sweetly.

Ashton chuckled as he left the OR, while you stayed to oversee the intern closing, providing probably much gentler instruction than they were used to.

~~~

You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn as you made your way to the cafeteria, still waiting for Ashton to page you. As you walked in, you realized why Ashton still hadn’t paged, spotting the man chatting with a few other attendings.

“Heard Y/N chewed your ear off,” Michael snickered.

“Yeah, she was pissed. Thanks for that, Cal,” Ashton said with a small giggle before changing his voice to do his best impersonation of you, “ ‘It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who also happens to be trauma certified. Do not make me go over your head.’ Like yes, darling, I know. I’m the one who gave you your trauma certification.”

As the men started to laugh, you set your tray down in an empty seat at their table. “Morning, gentlemen!”

There was a cough as they tried to stifle their laughter, each of them getting out a choked, “Morning.”

“What were we talking about?” you asked innocently.

“Uh… just how Luke needs to learn to loosen up on the stitches,” Michael thought quickly. “Turns a five minute procedure into a half hour ordeal, it’s insane.”

“Sorry that I care how my patients look after a trauma,” Luke said with an eye roll.

“I’m sure, psych would call that mentality projection,” Calum teased.

“Paging Dr. Pretty Boy!” Ashton cackled.

“Hey! Rather be Dr. Pretty Boy than Dr. Arrogant,” Luke rounded on Ashton playfully.

“Who calls me that?”

“Uh… everybody. Y/N’s pretty accurate with her nicknaming,” Calum grinned.

Ashton let out a breath of disbelief as you smiled sheepishly at him, shrugging your shoulders. “Have you considered being less arrogant?”

“I am not arrogant!”

“Yeah, you are,” you all chorused, while Ashton crossed his arms and pouted. “Oh, whatever, the best surgeons usually are” you continued, turning your attention to Calum. “Before I got stuck in surgery, I meant to talk to you about artificial bones. Found some promising stuff.”

Calum paused in his sip of coffee. “Mmm, shit, awesome. Uh…” he checked his watch, “I got a half hour before rounds. You got time now?”

You checked your own watch. “Yeah, I got t-”

“Actually,” Ashton interrupted. “Y/N, I was wondering if we could talk real quick first. About the kid.”

“Oh! Yeah. We should probably do that. Cal, I’m off after rounds, if you’re free then.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded as he went back to his coffee while you and Ashton rose from the table, bidding the other three goodbye.

“So, his chart’s all up to date. I have one of my fourth years monitoring the situation, but I’m not expecting any complications to arise. Should be good to discharge probably later today or early tomorrow at the latest,” you brought him up to speed as you walked.

“Yeah, that’s great,” Ashton rushed, eyes darting around as he pushed open an on-call room and locked the door behind the two of you. “How long we got til rounds?”

“A little under a half hour, why?”

Ashton smirked as his hands landed hot on your waist, his lips finding yours. “Wanna boss me around some more?” he murmured against your lips, before he was trailing kisses down the column of your neck, before sucking into the sweet spot just before your collarbone, his hands jerking you to be flush against him. “Or, do you want my sincerest apology for being Dr. Arrogant, and forgetting to page you earlier?”

“Mmmm,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back, eyes shutting. “Little bit of both?”

“Yes ma’am,” he winked before scrubs went flying and your back hit the mattress.

__

Tag List

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[good-rwbyaus]

Be Careful Who You Blackmail pt. 1 / 2. | #Criminal Minds RWBY AU | mod lilac

AU Description: Based on n3b1r1us's AU Prompt where Jaune's plans usually consist of crimes. Also, Ren is the sole voice of reason because the rest of team JNPR are filthy enablers. 

Cardin blackmails the wrong person. Story’s written in Cardin’s POV.

previous piece in this AU :: The Voice of Reason

Uggh. His head. Why’d it feel like he got hit with a sledgehammer or that all the blood in his body was rushing to his head? Did he fall out of bed or somethi-

Wait. Something’s wrong. It’s too windy. Wasn’t he sleeping in his tent earlier? Why was he outsi-

Cardin startled as he opened his eyes, the world upside-down as he dangled from a tree branch. Even worse was that the tree branch he was hanging from happened to be jutting past a cliffside, and underneath him was the forest of Forever Fall, cloaked in the shadow of night.

The alarming thing was that, underneath the ropes tying him like a hog, he was clad only in his boxers. No weapons, no armor, just him and the very real dangers of Remnant. Seriously, he needed to get out of here and find his way back before the Gri- 

“Grrrrrrggr.”

His gaze turned directly downwards and met a pair of glowing red eyes. His throat dried up as a large vague outline peeked out of the treeline, a stalwart figure that only meant one thing in these parts. 

The Grimm. An Ursa. 

“Shit!” he couldn’t help but yell when the Ursa rose on its hindlegs, its attention clearly on him. Wiggling and flailing like a worm, he screamed to anyone that would listen, “Somebody. Anybody! Help!”

“You know if you keep screaming and moving, I might not be able to keep hanging onto this rope,” spoke a familiar voice.

Wasn’t that....

With dawning horror, Cardin lifted his gaze from the Ursa and spotted the last person he expected to see on the cliff. Peeking out from behind the tree he was tied to, Jaune waved his hand jauntily while holding his lifeline in his hand. 

No way. Jaune didn’t have the guts to do what he was threatening. This was after all Jaune, a doormat shaped like a person. Didn’t voice a complaint despite the humiliating things he’s requested Jaune to do in exchange for not telling Ozpin about the blond’s faked transcripts. Hell, even during this trip, he was always scurrying away and hiding in the most random places in Forever Fall just to avoid him. A clear bluff. 

Cardin gritted his teeth in anger and sent a sneer towards his fellow classmate.

"Jaune! When I get out of these ropes, I’m going t- AHHH!" Gravity suddenly took hold of his body, the ground closing extremely fast. His eyes closed shut as his screams rang through the night.

“Hurk.” A sudden resistance took hold as the rope around his feet pulled taut. 

Realizing he’d been given a momentary reprieve, Cardin opened his eyes once more and found the Ursa was a lot closer than he’d like. Its claws groped skywards trying to reach the tasty morsel just dangling out of its reach. A warbling discontent growl echoed from its maw as he felt himself being pulled upward towards the cliff edge and met the face of his tormentor once more. 

"I was really patient, you know. Ren said that bullies go away if you don't give them a reaction,” Jaune explained as he kneeled down to meet him eye-to-eye, the same innocent smile still plastered on - as if the blond hadn’t tried to send him to his death seconds earlier. "And well you just didn’t go away. So you thought to blackmail me instead.” The blond began unfurling the rope in his grip, Cardin belatedly realizing what his classmate was going to do again. 

“STO-!” 

He felt another jolt as he descended the cliff in freefall, screaming. Only when he felt the rope pull taut against his legs did he have the courage to open his eyes once again. He wish he hadn’t. He saw the metallic glint of the Ursa’s claws sail right past his nose, the wind of its swipes beating upon his face. He was so close to the abomination that he could smell it, a disgusting cloying mix of sugary syrup and iron. And within its eyes, he could see his brutal death reflected in its crimson hues. Even with Aura, you don’t survive an Ursa, even a Minor, without weapons and armor. "Stop lowering me Jaune! Pull me up! Pull me up! If you don’t, I’m going to-!” 

What was his stupid mouth about to say?! Threatening Jaune at this point? When Jaune was already willing to go this far?! 

“Jaune! Come on. We can talk it out! You know you can’t get away with this. I won’t say anything if you just st-"

"Oh. I am going to get away with this; I just haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Jaune grinned. “You know, I nearly died several times trying to find the most obscure places to hide, knowing that you and your team were looking for me, even after off hours." The blond rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “I even remember taking a couple punches for inconveniencing you too.”

The insane boy moved his hand away from his chin and snapped his fingers. “But now team CRDL has the reputation of being reckless explorers, breaking the rules to explore deeper into dangerous areas. Such a gunner, you. Even going out at night to prove your worth.” The blond sniffled a few times, hand wiping a fake tear, as if he were a proud parent watching his kid get an award. 

“Not a bad result from a game of hide and seek, right?” the blond looked straight at him, grinning.

How- Him chasing Jaune through Forever Fall was part of Jaune’s plans? How many steps was Jaune thinking ahead? How long was he planning all this behind his back? How deep was he in the other boy’s schemes?! He’d always thought it a joke when people said Jaune was a brilliant tactician, but....

Cardin shivered as he felt himself being slowly pulled upwards towards the cliff again. His blood turned cold upon seeing the expression that met him, Jaune looking like the very cat that’s found a mouse to 'play’ with. He wanted to say something more to Jaune, but the fear that he’d say the wrong thing and be sent plunging to his death stayed his tongue. 

“And well, as for me getting away with this...”

Jaune opened up a Scroll and revealed a screen displaying a live recording dot and a familiar blond figure talking to the rest of team JNPR at the campfire. 

Cardin could only stare at the Scroll in horror. 

"How?”

“You don’t have to ask where I got the body double. In any case when morning comes and roll call happens, everything’s going to think Cardin Winchester bit more than he can chew and never came back,” Jaune said solemnly. “Your team...well, your team will go on an ill-advised journey to avenge you and then disappear forever into the depths of Forever Fall. No one will ever find the bodies.” 

The blond held his chest with his free hand and closed his eyes, momentarily silent.

“I’m sure Beacon Academy will provide your families the appropriate remuneration.” 

This lunatic's going to kill him. And he’s not going to let off the rest of his team. His heart pounded like a jackhammer. Jaune’s seriously trying to kill him. This isn’t a joke. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. No-

“Look Jaune. Jaune. Buddy. Friend. I wasn’t really going to tell Ozpin. Really. It-was-a-joke. And-”

“Yeah about that, I'll admit those forgeries weren’t my greatest work,” Jaune scratched his chin in bemusement. “They look good at first glance and even at second glance, but well it was my first time, and I might’ve overdone it when I realized it might give me a chance to meet my idol.” 

“But there’s no good excuses for poor work, and I really have a reputation to keep,” Jaune stated sincerely before looking at him straight in the eyes, expression as serious as death. 

This didn’t seem quite right. Wasn’t Jaune scared about being expelled from Beacon? When did this becom-

Jaune must’ve seen the surprise in his eyes because the blond laughed. 

“Oh. You were thinking Professor Ozpin would expel me for something like a fake transcript?” Jaune laughed, “After I made it this far? After showing I can learn and become a great tactician and leader? When there’s students from Beacon who’ve never been to any sort of combat academy at all? As far as I’m concerned...”

“He’d probably give me extra credit if he knew,” Jaune bared a toothy grin. “Cardin, the only reasons why I let you blackmail me was because I didn’t need to be known as someone who did shoddy work and that I didn’t want my peers thinking I cheated the system to get in. Even if I totally did.” 

“Wow. What a funny misunderstanding. But... well now we’re here, “ Jaune shrugged, “Though one of us won’t be shortly.”

His heart skipped a beat, alarm bells ringing in his head. His breath turned unsteady as he tried not to succumb to the growing panic and horror; he thought he had Jaune figured out, only to find he’d been provoking a complete psychopath all along.

“Look. Jaune. I won’t say anything at all. I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll clean your clothes. I’ll clean your team’s clothes. I’ll pay y-”

“Your offer sounds really good,” Jaune held a hand up as he interrupted, “but I’m the type to get rid of trouble before it festers. I mean, if I get rid of you and your team now, I don’t have to worry about having my reputation smeared in the future. Don’t worry, Cardin. I’ll make sure you have company.” The blond began unwinding the rope from his arm again, “Bye Card-”

“NO! Please! I don’t wanna die. My mom and dad are waiting for me back home. Ihaven’tmade a name for myself. Please! Idonwanttodieireallywanttolive. illwalkyourdog. ill make pancak-” The incoherent blabbling wasn’t something he could help, the words forming faster in his head than his mouth could say them. The tears and nose dripped down his face and forehead as he tried everything to appease this demon from hell. Pride - who needed pride at this point -  just as long as he could stay alive!  

As he babbled continuously, the blond boy just hummed as if considering his words. 

“illbeatupwhoeveryouwant. illbeyourlackey. illfetchyouyourlocker. please don’t kill m-”   

“Hmmm,” Jaune tilted his head, “Okay.”

“and I’ll- Huh?” He couldn’t help but drop his jaw in surprise, his brain screeching to a halt at that simple single utterance. After all this talk about killing him, was- was Jaune seriously going to let him go? 

“Oh, you’d rather the Ursa have you? Well if that’s the cas-

“No!” 

The blond smirked in amusement. 

“Alright. I’ll let you go for now. But remember, if you speak a word about this or the other thing to anyone else...”

“I won’t. I swear. I’ll-” He was definitely going to stay far away from the clearly unstable blond if he could help it. No one can pay him enough t-

“Just remember, I can get to you at any time. It might be eaten by an Ursa today,” Jaune whimsically said, “It could be maimed by a disgruntled bunny-eared Faunus tomorrow. Well. Good night.” 

“Good nigh-? Urgkurguurugurg.”

His body spasmed uncontrollably as something struck into the back of his neck. And then he knew no more.

[bel0vedbanshee]

What Keeps You Up (Part 4)

Shawn X Reader

Words: 1,515

Description: Written from Shawn & Y/N’s perspective. Inspired by the song What Keeps You Up at Night by Dan + Shay. Shawn and Y/N meet briefly at a party, and from that point forward he’s willing to do whatever it takes to be the person that keeps her up at night. Little does he know, that’s her goal too. 

Warnings: Language

PART 3

Shawn’s POV

The next morning I woke up with a permanent smile plastered on my face. Everyone around me could tell that I was in a good mood. Everyone also knew that it was because of a girl, but I still lied and told them I was just having a good day.

I couldn’t get her off of my mind. I had never in my life talked to a girl like her. I wanted to text her as soon as I got up to make plans. I waited until around 10 am, after I went to the gym. I decided to call her. 

My heart pounded as the phone rang, waiting for her to pick up. The longer I waited for her to pick up the more I wished I would have texted her. Finally just as I was about the hit the red button on the screen, she answered.

“Hi there.” She spoke, I smiled instantly picturing her face.

“Hey! Good morning, what do you have going on today?” I blurted out, really smooth. I should have probably talked a little longer before asking her out again.

She chuckled.

“Well…” She drew out her l’s “I was going to catch up on laundry.”

“Do you need some company?”

“I would love that. I usually go to the laundromat by my apartment. I could meet you there?”

“Okay! That works, just text me the address.”

“Deal, Bye Shawn.” She said before hanging up. I don’t think Ill ever get used to the way my chest tightens when she said my name.

 Shortly after our call ended, she sent the address of the laundromat and told me she was headed here now. I threw my hoodie on, and a hat and left to meet her.

 I walked up to the building thankful that it wasn’t in a very populated part of town. Not that it mattered, but I really wanted to get to know her more, and not be distracted the whole time.

 I walked inside, smiling as soon as I saw her. She didn’t see me yet though. She was so entranced, it was kind of beautiful. She was humming along to the music playing over the loud speaker. Her hair in a messy bun, light makeup gracing her face. I could instantly tell that she really didn’t think about what she had on when she decided to hang out with me. That was one of the things I really liked about her. She was so real, all the time. I needed that in my life.

 I walked to where she was, she finally looked up, smiling at me as she put down the clothes she was grabbing to put in the washer. She walked up to me, holding her arms out. It wasn’t until then that I realized she still had my hoodie on. I smiled down at her as her arms wrapped around my torso, and mine around her shoulders. We hugged for what felt like a long time. I was glad that she initiated hugging me, because I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around her too.

 She let go of my waist and smiled up at me.

“Hi.” she said quietly

“Hi. That hoodie really does look good on you.” I confirmed nodding at her looking her up and down.

She backed up and fake modeled it for me, as she giggled.

“I know, I think I want to keep it.” She said shyly, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows.

I silently chuckled and nodded my head agreeing,how could I tell her no. 

I instantly dove in helping her load the washer with her clothes, and getting change from the machines. Once the washers were all going, we bought an insane amount of junk food from the vending machine and sat down at a table near the machines she was using. We lucked out, we were the only ones in the entire laundromat.

“So…” she started, popping a peanut m&m into her mouth. “How long are you home for?” Her eyes flicking down to the food on the table, then to back up to meet my eyes.  

I finished chewing my twizzler… “I leave for a few European shows and press soon.” I said quietly. For the first time thinking that maybe that would be a deal breaker.

She nodded. “How soon is soon?” She smiles

I start to smile back until I realize that she probably isn’t going to like my answer. I know I don’t.

“I leave in four days, but Ill only be gone for a few weeks.” I try to reason already.

Her eyes instantly get sad, but she tried to cover it up with a fake smile.

“Then you come home for another week, before you leave again?” She laughs.

I scrunched my nose and nodded. I didn’t want that to be true, but it was. That was the reality of my career. A career that I loved. This was the first time that I had to think about how often I wasn’t home. I avoided relationships for this reason exactly, I knew how hard it was for the other person. I knew I had to at least try with her.

 I watched her as she got up and walked to the washer, as it was beeping, letting us know the clothes were done. She started putting them into the dryer, I walked over and started to help her. Once we had transitioned all of the clothes from the washers to the dryer she walked over to the wall nearby and leaned up against it. I could hear her sigh as she relaxed against the cold wall. I knew she probably had so many questions, I know I did. I slowly walked over to her. Placing one of my hands on the wall next to her head.

Then I used the other one to pull her chin up to look at me.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I mutter.

She breathes deeply, licking her lips before she speaks.

“I just… I really like you.” She says quietly.

I smile down at her, my heart pounding at the sound of the words.

“That’s good, I really like you too.”

“Do you like a lot of girls? Because I'm not that type of girl, ya know. I know you’re a Rockstar, and a lot of girls want you but I need to be the only one. You’ll be my only one and Ill be yours.” She started to ramble.

I giggled making her stop. She scrunched her eyebrows, silently telling me that she didn’t like that.

“First of all. You are my only one, the only person I’m talking to. You’re the only person I want to talk to.” I said matter of fact. She peered up at me biting the inside of her cheek. Something I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous or anxious. She nodded at me signaling that she understood.

“Second of all, you are so fucking cute.” I smiled down at her, she instantly stopped chewing the inside of her cheek, when she lets out a little giggle. Her hand finds my neck, and she pulls me closer to her. Her lips ghosting mine, until I lean in a centimeter fully connecting them.

She gently pushes me away from her and wipes her mouth after we had been kissing for a few minutes.

“There’s a time and a place, Mendes.” She quips as she walks towards the dryer to check the time.

I tuned around leaning against the wall she just left, watching her silently.

 She slowly walked towards me, leaning into me. I start to blush as h”er fingers trace shapes along my collar bones.

“I don't know how I feel about the distance stuff, but I have a lot going on and you do too... so it should be fine... right?” She looks up to me looking for an answer. 

“I mean, it wont be easy. We will figure it out though, I know that much.” I assure her pushing her stray hairs behind her ear. 

She bites her lip, and softly smiles. 

“So four days hmm?” She asked me quietly.

“Ya know, there’s a thing called face time… right? Its not like you cant talk to me while I’m away.” I responded, my hand finding the small of her back and rubbing gentle circles.

“Yeah I know, but I like this.” She said leaning her head into my chest. I sighed loving the feeling. I knew what she meant, it was a completely different feeling. She felt like the piece of me that was missing, and I didn’t even know it.

“Okay. Well for the next 4 days we can do this a lot, until I get back home.” I say leaning down to kiss her head.

She nods into my chest.

We stay like that until her clothes are dry. We fold her clothes, and pack them up, then take them to her car. Once she’s ready to leave. She walks to the drivers side of her car and I follow, opening her door for her.

“So, do you have anything going on tomorrow?” I ask

She smiles at me. “What do you have in mind?”

I chuckle “Well maybe, I could make you dinner at my place?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You can cook? I like it. Sounds like a plan.” She smiles and nods at me.

“Okay, Ill pick you up around 6.” I tell her. She nods, and leans in to hug me. I wrap my arms around her tight. She looks up at me with soft eyes.

“Thanks for helping me with my laundry.” She giggles.

“Anytime, honey.” I leaned down to kiss her nose.

She got in her car and I waited for her to drive away, before calling my mom to beg her to teach me to make a meal for my date tomorrow.

[fiddleford-hadron-mcgucket]

a dinner conversation

guess who will never stop writing fanfiction for her own blogs? it’s me

i guess this takes place yesterday afternoon? i’m a sucker for healthy communication so it’s just some good platonic fluff (ft. ford who doesn’t realize he has a crush yet but totally does) and bonding (it will take eight million more years for them to actually get together bc i also love being in slow burn hell)

anyway, enjoy

words: 1,454

rating: g

“Fiddleford, you have to have at least one slice. I’m not eating this whole thing.” Stanford mumbled through a mouthful of pizza. His brown gaze moved from the open physics textbook propped up beside him on his bed and over to his roommate. Fiddleford sat at his desk on the opposite side of the room, absentmindedly clicking his fidget cube and not looking up. A grease-stained pizza box laid at the end of the bed, filling the small room with the smell. Ford blinked at Fiddleford. “I got this so you would eat, not me.”

Fiddleford sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just eat.” Ford spoke, gesturing to the pizza box. Fiddleford stood and exhaled before retrieving a slice of pizza and then returning to his desk. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments before looking back to Ford.

“I don’t get why you care so much about something as trivial as my eating habits, anyway.”

Ford looked almost taken aback. “I care because you’re my friend and I love you. I’d like to see you healthy and well-taken care of. There’s nothing trivial about it.” he responded, giving a shrug. 

Fiddleford snickered. “Alrighty then, but if you’re gonna keep nagging me about stuff like this, you gotta start showering more often. ‘Ya can’t exactly chide me about self-care when you don’t do much of it yourself.”

Ford smiled. “It’s a deal. I’d shake your hand, but mine’s full of grease and I can’t exactly get up.” He gestured to his leg and they both chuckled. A moment of silence fell between them. “I’m sorry you had to ask that question, though.” Ford suddenly said softly. “Have I- have I not been making that clear?”

Fiddleford quirked a brow. “What?”

“That I care about you. Do I n-”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes and cut him off. “Course you have. That was just me ‘n my silly self-esteem issues talkin’, I’m sorry.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just…”

Ford waited for him to go on. “Just what?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to it.”

“Being cared about?”

“Well, now that you say it, it sounds bad…”

“No, I understand. It doesn’t sound bad at all. Given what you’ve told me about most of your old friends and… your family…” Ford paused to take a bite of pizza. “…my guess would be that you’re not accustomed to being truly valued because of past relationships that have ended badly. Naturally, you’d believe that nobody genuinely cares about you because so many people have turned on you so quickly in the past.” Ford gestured vaguely outward as if this was a regular conversation. He swallowed nervously before continuing. “It’s probably hard to believe people aren’t faking it because the fear that they actually hate you is always present in the back of your mind.”

Fiddleford stared at him with his mouth hanging half-open. “Damn. You’re more perceptive than I thought.”

Ford looked away. “I know all about trust issues, trust me.” He chuckled at the irony of his own words, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“Yeah. I bet you do.” Fiddleford walked over and plunked down on Stanford’s bed beside him. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“The fact that you understand that tells me that you’re somebody worth trusting.”

Ford stiffened slightly in surprise as Fiddleford pulled him into a hug. He let his muscles relax and smiled as he patted Fidds’ back, one arm awkwardly holding the slice of pizza in his hand off to the side so that it didn’t stain either of their shirts.

Ford’s smile turned to a frown as Fiddleford pulled back and a sudden thought popped into his head.

“Fiddleford?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. For everything I’ve put you through since I met you. And thank you for sticking by me through everything. I… really appreciate it. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. It’s all been worth it, I reckon.”

“You reckon?” Ford grinned, teasing him a little.

“Yeah, I reckon. I reckon… ‘cause I ended up findin’ you.”

“Wow.” Ford uttered. “That’s… probably the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.”

Fiddleford tilted his head at him. “Well, that’s a cryin’ shame, ‘cause there are plenty of nice things about you.”

Ford looked at him skeptically.

“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. I mean, hell, you’re just fascinating as an individual. You’ve always got something on that insanely smart mind of yours, and your thoughts are always worth hearing. You’re passionate about what you love and you strive to be the best you can be, which is an admirable trait in anyone. You have a noble heart and your mind is on the same level as mine. You get me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re not a dick (‘cause you definitely are), but you really are a great guy. Not morally (think you’re just as ethically ambiguous as I am in that aspect), but just in general. In personality. In being. I wish I could put all the little nuances of who you are into words so that I could tell you everything that makes you a loveable person, but I think you’re too complex for me to ever be able to. That’s what makes you so interesting, and that’s why I like you. And you’re always great to have a conversation with.”

“Never thought I’d hear that one.” Ford grinned.

“Well, I think so. You actually listen to me when I talk about the things I love and you’re interested in what I have to say. Didn’t think I’d ever find anyone who would want to have all-night discussions about obscure engineering concepts until you came along.”

“I can’t believe everyone doesn’t find theoretical physics as fascinating as you and I do. It’s a crime, really.” They both giggled.

Fiddleford paused. “So thanks for being you, Stanford. I’m glad to have you in my life.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” Ford managed. He couldn’t help but blush slightly, a dopey grin still plastered on his face. He’d finished his pizza while Fiddleford was talking, so he quickly wiped his hands on a napkin and pulled him into another hug, burying his face into his shoulder and smiling.

“Fidds?” he murmured.

“Mmm?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yup?”

Ford would’ve said something deep about how Fiddleford gave off an energy that drew him in and made him happy to feel alive. He might’ve used fancy wording to tell him he was a captivating and inexplicably fascinating being, a lively oddity that had captured his interest in a strange way, in a way that not even science could excite him. Maybe he’d compare him to a flower or the sun in some beautiful metaphor. Perhaps he’d even find the right synonym to describe how very bright and colorful and exhilarating his soul was, how dizzying and… now he was getting into territory not even he understood. That was why but thoughts like that belonged among coded passages in his journal next to scribbled-out doodles of hearts and poorly-written poems.

For now, he was content to hug him and try his best to make him understand everything he couldn’t describe. “You’re incredibly brilliant, kind, understanding, witty, amusing, and… that sounded a lot more meaningful in my head. I’m very poor at this kind of thing, but I hope you know that I would be saying something equally sentimental right now if I knew how. I, um, I think you’re wonderful and you make me extremely happy. I believe you’re a genuinely good person.”

“Stanford, I literally killed a man last month.”

“That adds to the eccentricity of your character, in my opinion. Besides, I was this close to killing him myself. I never said you had a sense of right and wrong.“

“That makes two of us.” They both snickered.

Ford just hugged him tighter. “I love you.”

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up!” Ford shoved him back, laughing and wiping away the few tears that had collected in his eyes.

“Not until you admit that I won our scrabble tournament.” Fiddleford grabbed his shoulder and shoved him down before crawling on top of him.

“If this is a wrestling match, you’re at an unfair advantage.”

“Oh, boo-hoo.” Fiddleford rolled off of him and slid into the wheelchair beside his bed before mockingly propping up his foot. “I’m poor crippled Stanford Pines and I can’t do anything but whine and complain about my shitty life. Pity me.”

Ford rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but couldn’t keep the amused smirk off of his face. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“So I do.”

[wordsxwoes-blog]

White Walls

          Every morning my alarm clock wakes me up at 7:07AM. This is my favourite part of the day: when my house is so quiet I can hear the gentle padding of my cat walking down the hallway, and can faintly smell the coffee my father had made before he left for work. Every morning at 7:17AM one single ray of light sneaks its way through my curtains and paints itself on my bedroom wall; its bright, almost rainbow-like, ambiance contrasting greatly against my dark bedroom walls. I like to believe that this single ray of light is a sign, that positivity and happiness are coming my way, but typically that’s not the case and instead the ray of light only reminds me that I should get up and be getting ready for school.

              I take the steps downstairs with great caution. I fell once when I was eight years old and cut my chin open on the railing. Seven stitches and nine years later, I still shiver as I hop over that treacherous step. Ten, nine, eight, seven – hop – five, four, three, two, one steps until I enter the kitchen and am faced with the sight of my brother. The bags under his eyes have gotten darker and his skin much paler. I hate noticing these things about him and I hate the fact that I can’t bring it up to him. I wonder if he knows that I know… he must, its been happening far more often than before. I send a silent prayer that he hasn’t gone back to how he was after the incident.

              “What are you staring at?” he asks.

              “What? Nothing, Jason relax. You’re always so on edge,” I say, carefully picking four red grapes off of each vine and plopping them into my mouth.

              “Whatever, just hurry up, okay? I have to go to the library before class and if we wait for you to chew each grape twenty-six times, we’re going to be late,” he retorts, stuffing his belongings into his school bag and scraping his chair against the floor as he stands up. How rude of him. I do not chew each grape twenty-six times, it’s only nineteen. Unless they’re the squishy green ones, then it’s usually twenty-six.

Jason and I take the short cut to get to school – passed the ballpark and through the winding road in which most of the farms are on. This short cut only takes thirteen minutes; the other route takes twenty-two. The ride to school always gives me time to think about what my day will be like and time to panic over all the school work I forgot to do the night before. Not so lucky for me, it also gives me time to think about the things I’d rather not. Memories of her and the night of the incident cloud my thoughts and the mood in the truck subtly darkens.

              “The day’s coming up soon,” I say quietly, wringing my hands together. Jason’s hands grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white and his arms going stiff with anger.

              “We’re not talking about this, Ella. Not now,” he says through a clenched jaw. I know that I shouldn’t have brought it up, he’s so sensitive about it, but I couldn’t help it. I note the way his breathing has gotten shorter – he’s thinking about it now. One, two, three, four, five short breaths until we turn onto our school street. Jason’s still tense as we exit the car and walk through the parking lot of Ravendale High School. I want to wish him a good day at school as a sort of apology, but he’s gone off to the library before I have the chance.

              Something’s happened at school before I’d arrived. I can feel it in the air – the students are chatting exuberantly and the staff looks completely stressed out. I don’t care to stick around to hear what happened from this game of broken telephone so I make my way upstairs towards my locker. I am thirteen steps away from reaching my locker when I am forcefully pulled back and I stop in my tracks. The hand attached to my arm belongs to my closest friend, Ava. She’s truly brilliant; everything I wish I could be and she’s totally not messed up like I am. I know I am. My parents told me when I was little that I was ‘special’. What they should have told me was, ‘hey, you’re a little messed up. You have this thing called OCD so you’re gonna be fixated on numbers and getting everything single thing right every time you do something. It won’t mess your life up completely, but you’re gonna look real weird to the other kids. Anyway, have a good day!’

              “Guess what?” Ava excitedly asks.

              “I don’t care, but I know you’re still going to tell me,” I sigh in response.

              She grins. “You’re right. Anyway, the principal found an insane amount of coke in the boy’s bathroom in the west-wing. How stupid of someone to leave it there. What a waste, huh?”

              I can’t bring myself to laugh at her poor attempt of brightening the situation. My mind is racing a thousand miles a minute and my thoughts are instantly flooded with memories of the incident. White, white, white. Everything in my mind goes white. Everything in my mind was white then, too. She must have noticed the change in my demeanor because Ava is instantly concerned. I think she’s talking to me, maybe asking what’s wrong but I can’t hear her. I can’t see her. I see him in that white walled bedroom and I feel myself start to shake. Trying to hang on to reality when this happens is always so hard. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. I’m still shaking as I count backwards in my head for a few minutes. When I finally tune back in after my episode subsides, Ava’s beautiful face is contorted with confusion and concern. She doesn’t know, about the incident, so of course she’d be concerned but I don’t have the time or the will to get into it.

              “See you after third period,” I shakily say with a painfully fake smile plastered on my face. I turn and make my way to the library in a frantic search for Jason, not forgetting to count the steps in the stairwell on my way down.

              I couldn’t get a hold of Jason throughout the school day. I texted, called, and talked to his weird friends about where he may be, but they were no help of course… burnouts. I know that what happened at school this morning scared him. He must have seen white just as I had, I mean who can blame him? To be reminded of something so… I would have run away too. When I finally see Jason again it’s the end of the school day. Plain and simple, he looks like a mess. His eyes are bloodshot, from what I can’t be too sure, his hair is wild as if he has been running his hands through it and tugging at it for hours, his skin looks deathly pale, and he has scratches going up and down his arms. I can literally feel my heart sink in my chest as he avoids eye contact with me and gets in the truck. I want to say something, anything to break this tense silence we are sitting in, but I can’t find anything to say. Jason decides not to take the short cut but I notice that we still get home in thirteen minutes.

              The past few days have been oddly quiet. I know why of course, so do Jason and dad but no one’s going to comment on it. It’s like some unspoken agreement we have; we don’t talk about the incident. Ava has not questioned me about my episode that day at school, thankfully. She’s my best friend of course, but telling her about everything is too overwhelming – for her and for myself. Jason is spending most of his time in his bedroom whenever we’re not at school. I don’t know how he can stand spending so much time in there. Four white walls, a bed, a desk, and a lamp; that’s it. You’d think that a bedroom with only white walls would be bright but it’s definitely not. It used to be, but somehow it faded into an almost dirty white, how ironic. I wonder how empty that makes him feel. I wonder if he can even feel anything at all anymore. He’s gotten much worse now. He’s gotten very thin very quickly and I am racing to push the thought of why that’s happened completely out of question.

              It’s 7:17AM and the ray of light is strangely dull. Its usual shine seems darkened and there is no trace of a rainbow in it at all. I groan internally at the thought of what this may mean. The anniversary is this week and my episodes have been occurring quite frequently. I’m trying to stay positive as I get ready for school, but I can’t help thinking that today’s going to be one of the worst days yet. Skipping over that sixth step, I see the kitchen is empty. Jason couldn’t have left already could he? I check outside to see that the truck is in fact already missing from the driveway – he could.

              Something happened again at school, this time during lunch. My broken telephone game has informed me that it was some fist fight, probably between two bone-heads on the football team. Making my way to my fourth period class, I notice an unusual amount of staring in my direction. I instantly panic and start counting the tiles on the floor as I’m walking. One, three, four, six – I am cut off by a pair of combat boots. Amidst my counting, I had failed to notice the hallway clear out and I look up from the floor to see a bruised and battered Jason. I should have known. How could I not have known? I’d like to say something snarky about his anger and how stupid fighting on school property is, but the look in his eye stops me dead in my tracks. We instantly walk towards the nearest exit, down the stairs, and out the door to the parking lot. My heart is beating so fast I think it might fall out of my chest, Jason’s eyes are darting wildly back and forth as if his thoughts are running amuck, and my palms start to sweat as we make it to the truck and I realize I didn’t count my steps on the way down the stairs.

              “I couldn’t stop myself,” Jason whispered. “I’m losing control again, Ella. It’s getting so bad I’m scaring myself,” he says quietly. He wont look at me in the eyes but I’m thankful for that because if he did, I know I’d start crying and I can’t let myself be weak right now. Not in front of him when he’s in this state, when he’s so obviously broken and I fear the pieces may never be fixed.

              I try my best to comfort him. “I know, Jason. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Let me drive us home, okay? And we’ll fix you up when we get there, yeah?”

              “Okay, yeah. Okay,” he replies, still clearly shaken up.

              I take the short cut home and am feeling on edge the entire thirteen minutes. Jason is groaning in the passenger seat and I’m so worried. Oh god, I’m so worried for him. Once home, we shuffle into the house. Jason is weak now, he rests on me as we make our way upstairs. I can feel his blood, coming from God knows where, trickling down my arm as I support him. I don’t count the stairs, and I don’t skip the sixth step either.

              Jason’s white room is tainted with a deep burning red colour. The contrast is so blunt that it almost looks beautiful but it’s not. In any other circumstance maybe it could be, but not right now, not when it is the blood of my brother swiped across these four white walls. He’s okay for now, I’ve dressed and bandaged his wounds and there’s very little possibility of internal bleeding. So now we’re sitting on his blood stained bed staring at the white walls.

              He’s blunt when he speaks. “I want to talk about it”.

              A sense of relief and worry wash over me as I reply, “Okay, I’m ready”.

              “After the incident… after mom passed, I knew things would never be the same. No matter how much dad tried to make up for it, everything was too different. You knew that too, that things could never go back to how they used to be. I mean, for God’s sake Ella, even the brightness of my bedroom walls had changed.”

I don’t interrupt him as he starts his spiel; partially because I have nothing to say to that, and partially because this is his first time opening up to me since mom had died and I don’t want to ruin it. I know he’s nervous, his hands are shaking and he’s twisting his hair. I give him an encouraging smile, hoping it’s enough to have him finish.

              “I didn’t know how to cope. At first, I tried what you were doing – isolating yourself and putting all your time and energy into other projects. It worked, at first I suppose but then, you got better and I didn’t, and I realized that your OCD was helping you cope, but I didn’t have an outlet like that for myself. Then I tried to cope like dad was – by pretending nothing had happened. But I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t. I mean, she was dead and I couldn’t bring myself to believe that she was on another business trip and that she just wouldn’t be home for a while.

              This went on for a couple months after she had passed. For months, I didn’t have any real way of coping with the situation. I pushed everything to the back of my head hoping that if I suppressed my feelings enough, that I may just go empty instead. But I still had this burning desire to do something that would really help me escape my tormented reality. This is probably when you started noticing my changes. I mean, how could you not? It was pretty evident back then… it’s evident now”.

              My breath hitched in my throat. I knew it. I knew it but I never wanted to believe it. I never wanted to admit to myself that I was dealing with everything fine, while my brother had resorted to drug abuse. I thought it was selfish of me, to acknowledge the fact that I was okay and he so obviously wasn’t. My heart’s racing again; my breaths becoming shallower as I listen to Jason continue his story after receiving a nod of recognition from me.

              “I never wanted to be that guy. That guy who succumbs to drug abuse as a means of escaping reality. I thought it was going to be a one-time thing, experimental. But, Christ, it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I was hooked after one time because I loved the way it made me feel, I craved it. I so desperately wanted to lose sight of my reality that I ended up losing myself. I regret it, of course I do, but it’s indescribable what it did for me. I felt like I was invincible, that there was no death or life, that there was only me in that moment. There were no worries or problems I had to deal with; I knew you were okay by then, dad too. So I became selfish. I wasn’t thinking about you or dad, or mom. All I was thinking was that I needed to feel that way again, and again, and again. I can’t tell when it became something more than a coping mechanism. When the white powder stopped reminding me of mom, I can’t remember. Everything in those last few months are a blur. When I try to recall those memories, I can’t. All I picture is white. A white void, like these four cold walls I became a prisoner to. I had completely lost myself, and I feel so bad, Ella.”

              I’m crying now. Hearing Jason finally talk about it has never made it feel so real. I can’t pretend to ignore it anymore because here he is, my big brother Jason, who I always thought was the strongest man in the world, letting me inside his head for the first time. Showing me the heartbreak and destruction he went though while I turned a blind eye. I feel so awful and I want to tell him that; I want to tell him anything to show him how much I love and care for him, but I’m at a loss for words. All I can do at this moment is cry. Cry for my father because I know he is still hurting inside but he pretends to be strong. Cry for myself for being so ignorant and blind to my brother’s problems. Cry for my brother and all the pain and torture he had to endure with no one by his side, and cry for my mother. Cry for the fact that she’ll never be back and cry for the fact that the ray of light at 7:17AM may never be seen again.

              Dad didn’t come home tonight. I know why – it is the anniversary of mom’s death. He’s gone to the cemetery and then off some place he can get drunk and wallow in sadness. I wish he was here with Jason and I, but in a way I’m glad he isn’t. I feel much lighter now that Jason has poured everything out to me, I’m more than positive he does as well. Things aren’t all okay though. How could they be? Jason has been using again which of course I could see, but didn’t say anything about. I hate myself for that, I really do.

              “It’s fine, Ella. Don’t apologize to me for it, it shouldn’t have been your problem anyway,” Jason says.

              “I feel like so much pain could have been avoided. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so ignorant, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now,” I reply.

              “Maybe it’s better that this did happen. I’ve never felt more at terms with the incident than I do right now. I know it sounds bad, but I think we needed this, you and me both,” he says. “I couldn’t have gone on much longer like this. I’m deteriorating, I know, and it’s scary because I don’t want to turn myself into another incident. I’m going to stop this, I promise you, Ella”.

              It’s so strange to me how everything in your life can change so drastically. Here was my family and I dreading this horrific, unspeakable day for months, and then all of a sudden it’s over. To my relief, Jason seems to be doing much better. He is regaining weight and the colour in his face is all starting to look normal. Of course he has his moments, but he trusts me enough now to help him get through those times. As if I was his coping mechanism. I only wish my dad could make this much progress with the incident as well. I don’t want to rush him, but I don’t want to be ignorant to his problems either; so I’m trying to stay as positive as possible and focus on the good things for my brother and for my father. I feel as though I am that 7:17AM ray of light – trying to spread positivity and happiness to those around me. I can only hope that my family notices it.

              “I don’t know why you need to chew every bite of food twenty-six times,” Jason says.

              I sigh, “Yes, Jason. You do know why; you’ve known why for years.”

              “Just hurry up, I don’t want to take the short cut and I don’t want to be late - which we will be if you continue to eat like that,” he responds.

              “How rude,” I mumble with a slight smile upon my face.

              Taking the normal way to school takes twenty-two minutes. Quite a long time if you ask me, but Jason said he didn’t want to deal with any chances of getting stuck behind a tractor or a family of cows by taking the other route. As if. Jason and I have never been closer than we are right now. The past couple weeks have bonded us closer than ever and we know that we will always be there for each other no matter what. Somehow, between all the jokes and play fighting, we get to school late.

              “It took us twenty-nine minutes to get here today. Totally not my fault,” I state as we get out of the truck.

              Jason raises an eyebrow at me. “But who’s counting anyway, am I right?” I joke. He doesn’t smile at my failed attempt of humour, but he has a glint in his eye. A white glint shining in the light of the 8:08AM sun.