#watch this bland mayo people

[just-a-bookish-reader]

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly - Autistic Representation

Autism - “A serious developmental disorder that impairs the ability to communicate and interact. Autism spectrum disorder impacts the nervous system.The range and severity of symptoms can vary widely. Common symptoms include difficulty with communication, difficulty with social interactions, obsessive interests, and repetitive behaviors. Early recognition, as well as behavioral, educational, and family therapies may reduce symptoms and support development and learning.” - Mayo Clinic

I don’t usually, nor do I plan on beginning any educational posts in the future - this is simply (hopefully) a one time thing. Though I highly highly doubt it will be. But this I absolutely need to discuss. I feel that I am qualified to do so as well as I’ve been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (specifically Asperger’s Syndrome when the DSM IV was still around) since I was 6 or 7 years old. So I have lived just about one and a half decades with it. Well at least with it diagnosed. Truly I’ve lived with it for all 20 years and 11 months of my life. 

In this post I plan on discussing mainly books, but also referencing to movies and tv shows as I deem necessary. I will also give suggestions of excellent books with autistic representation at the end of this post bolding, and italicizing the ones written by autistic authors. 

Now, without further ado, let’s jump right on in. 

The Ugly

We are starting with the worst of the worst - not so I can upset people over their faves but so that you can anticipate the best at the end of this post. I am going to stick to one major example for each category until the last one. As far as “The Ugly,” I am going to be referencing The Maid by Nita Prose. 

While it is never officially stated that she is autistic, there is enough insinuation that the lack of a label is almost offensive. If you are going to write a current day, “realistic,” murder mystery thriller, then you should be labeling your characters. And don’t do that “oh I don’t want to put them in a box.” Sometimes people have to be. If I hadn’t been labeled I wouldn’t have gotten the accommodations I needed in High School or College. That being said, there are some aspects here that seem accurate. The desire for a routine life, reading too far into certain conversations, missing out on social cues. I can certainly be glad they didn’t pull the counting toothpicks or burning down houses stereotypes. Outside of that, it just felt wrong. I can’t put a finger on it, and I reiterate that in the review. I think many of my complaints are similar to others, but the neurodivergency nearly felt fictional and I almost wished she’d at least watched the ABC Freeform tv show Stitchers, because while the condition Kirstin has isn’t autism, there certain gaping similarities that are discussed in the show (there’s an episode where she “stitches” into an autistic man’s brain and figures out how he died in 4 seconds because his brain was so similar to hers), that it has been my favorite show for a very long time. 

The Bad

Mind you, this example I DNFd rather quickly - as I had learned my lesson with other books. The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi. I went into this book extremely excited after hearing it featured not only a Jewish main character (I am half jewish myself) but that character was also autistic. When I got to her introduction I have never seen so many stereotypes and contradictions in one page. She is mentioned to basically be an arsonist, and love numbers. She is said to only like the “pale bland sugar cookies” and doesn’t know how to ask for more other than standing right behind Laila with an empty tray. But she was smart enough and socially adjusted enough to attend university until her arson. How on earth does that make sense? It felt like they were trying to infantilize the condition, which... feels not great. There are many autistic people out there who can love flavorful foods, love colors, and know how to cook or ask for more. Those same people may not feel comfortable at university, be scared of fires or be terribly at math and love words instead. Autistic people are extremely variable, and while I didn’t finish the book, there was clearly a reason as to why. 

The Good

Finally! The good! About damn time. Well, this is a slightly amusing story if you can believe it. So the same morning I finally decided to shelve The Gilded Wolves, I picked up Seraphina by Rachel Hartman. It was at the top of my physical TBR cart as it is a book that I am borrowing from my mom, so I need to finish it soon so I don’t forget to give it back, so I just leaned over and started it. Not only was the immediate prose gorgeous, but soon I discovered that the dragons are absolutely based on autistic people. In this case, it not being a specific label is understandable (same as above) because it is extremely high fantasy. Omran is described as loving difficult mathematics instead of just numbers and hating itchy clothing and is shown to miss social cues, such as greeting before launching into conversation. In one of the memories that Seraphina gets to see of her mother, she discovers that her mother was obsessed with her music, and seemed to know quite know how to word the feeling of deep love.  Not enjoying metaphor, but not elaborating exactly why. Yes she does still compare kissing Seraphina’s father to equations but its only one thing she compares it to - she still compares it to “seen the numbers behind the moon and stars, behind mountains and history, art and death and yearning, as if my comprehension is large enough that it can encompass universes from the beginning to the end of time.” (p. 91)

Even if it is not the author’s intention to make the dragons an entire species of autistic people, I’d prefer an accident like that to the aforementioned purposeful attempts at neurodivergent characters. 

More (will be updated as I discover more)

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

#autism #autism spectrum disorder #the maid #nita prose #Vespertine #margaret rogerson #the gilded wolves #roshani chokshi #seraphina #rachel hartman

[paleclementine]

It's been a minute. Sorry.

Valentines day was awesome. Me and Anthony made chips and guac the day before that, and then on the 13th we had our annual valentines wing night and I fucked up those honey barbecue wings. we also watch jurassic park and he liked it :) on actual valentines day we... uh. what did we do. uh. oh yeah we cuddled and I had cauliflower rice for the first time with crab and sriracha and mayo and seaweed and Anthony got rancheritos. Thus marks the beginning of my grind after I gained weight from it and starting being in an intense deficit and working off every calorie at the gym/with steps. I got out of 109 hell and into 107 which I'm trying to work off now. School has been lame as hell. I have my full class workshop on tuesday and I'm nervous about it but it's a lot better than the girl who is going with me so uh yeah, that's fine. it doesn't really matter what people think of me or my writing at the end of the day. I just need to get through the workshop and then i'm homefree.

I'm so stupidly ready to go back home. I read Frankenstein, They Both Die at the End, Where the Crawdads Sing, and I'm halfway through Bones and All. I am trying to get through them so I can take some back with me and leave them at home. Anyway, where the crawdads sing mentioned southern food and heat and nature on every single page and it made me miss home so bad. if I really want good southern food while I'm at home and I'm too lazy to make it, all I have to do is drive literally 20 minutes away to Homewood and get it made for me at that awesome resturant that has a new menu every day. what do they call it? a meat and two sides place? sighhhhhh. It's really cool how soul food and southern food overlaps. I wish I could eat it rn.... that would be a binge I could withstand.

but overall I just want to be out of this awful cold. It's still grey, still freezing, still bleak. I called it that in a poem for class-- "Valentine-bleak"-- and everyone was like wooowww such good wording I love that!! even though in my head Valentines is the least bleak thing about all of winter. I just thought it sounded cool. ugh. I hate everyone.

I started watch h2o and it's really good. I ordered the necklaces from aliexpress lol and I'm getting rikki's (hot pink though) and hailey is getting cleo's blue one. I also ordered a red tank top because it was three dollars. I hope it's cute. uhhhhh oh yeah, I'm trying to get to at least 100 pounds by the time I go home. It's not hard as long as I STARVE. i tried to today but then me and anthony got raising canes and I'd never had it before and I wanted to try it. The verdict: Zaxby's is SO MUCH BETTER. the seasoning, sauce, and fries are all peak compared to Cane's. No fucking wonder western people love bland-ass Cane's-- they have no idea what they're missing. I hate the elitism people have out here. like, of course you think Americans have no culture. It's cause you're from white-ass mormon-ass Utah. travel ANYWHERE ELSE in the united states and you will find culture that are beyond lush and diverse. Step one foot in the south and you'll be stomping your foot to a folk song, drinking canned beer, and craving fried okra with your bland-ass raising canes.

I've grown very cynical lately. I don't think I'll get over this until I can be in the sunshine, eat homemade acai bowls for breakfast, ride a bike, wear a bikini by our pool, hang out with hailey, or be woken up by cicada song at 8 in the morning. fleetwood mac, fruit smoothies, mermaids, freckles, bike riding, the wind in my hair, sunset walks, spontaneous trips to the beach.

#livejournal

[amamains]

Heart healthy delicious recipes

#Heart healthy delicious recipes pro#

The Food Network -Bobby Flay and other notable chefs contribute to this grouping of recipes that focus on keeping caloric input low and cooking on a budget.įor more healthy eating recommendations, call our New Jersey cardiologists at [phone] or request an appointment online at Cardiology Consultants of North Morris's main office in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey, or at one of our satellite locations.Try cardiologist Jyoti Sharmas favorite salmon recipe for dinner or lighten. American Heart Association's Healthy Eating Recipes –With tips and recipes from the AHA, you can learn to cook heart-healthy meals at home that your whole family will love. Eating heart-healthy doesnt have to be boring - in fact, it can be delicious.Everything from heart-healthy salad dressings to desserts can be found here. Delicious Heart Healthy Latino Recipes/Platillos latinos ¡sabrosos y saludables (bilingual collection) Additional resources include videos, information on different cutting and cooking techniques, basic cooking instructions and food safety, and a guide to cooking measurements and their equivalents. OK, maybe not – but some smart doctors live there and, luckily, they love to make people healthier. Quick stovetop black beans and rice with canned beans, onions, and cumin. Mayo Clinic’s Heart-Healthy Recipes - Everyone knows the best food comes from Minnesota.The National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute covers all dining courses with this robust assortment of recipes. NIH’s Heart-Healthy Recipes - Believe it or not, these are published by a branch of the government-funded National Institutes of Health. Whether youre looking for salads, low carb dinners, soup recipes, side dishes and morethere are plenty of recipes to choose from.Follow these recipe modifications for a heart healthy.

#Heart healthy delicious recipes pro#

And the best part is that you you don't have to be a pro in the kitchen to indulge in these heart-friendly meals.The nutrition experts at Cardiology Consultants of North Morris in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey, make it easy to find heart-healthy recipes that the whole family can enjoy.įrom appetizers to desserts, let us point you to heart-healthy recipes that are delicious and still allow you to eat good food, while protecting your heart and watching your cholesterol and blood pressure. Check back often for cooking tips, advice, and heart-healthy recipes. Modifying your diet is one of the lifestyle changes you can make to lower your risk for heart disease. The following heart-healthy recipes cover everything from fish-forward dishes to colorful vegetable combinations. Toasted sourdough, paired with savory pesto, Trifecta chicken, and sweet Roma tomatoes. So "instead of stressing over individual foods, think about the big picture of your eating pattern." Hartley tells Woman's Day that it's better to think of "ways to choose more heart-healthy fats, like olive oil, nuts and seeds, and avocado, eat fatty fish more often, increase intake of whole grains and other high fiber carbohydrate foods, and eat more fruits and veggies." All of the recipes below can be enjoyed for lunch or dinner, we've included a variety of recipes with some key heart-healthy ingredients such as lean protein sources like chicken and. One important thing to remember is that there's no one "right" way to eat for heart health, according to Rachael Hartley, RD. There are plenty of recipes that are as delicious as they are beneficial for your ticker! People often equate heart-healthy recipes with boring, bland meals but this doesn't always have to be the case. Recipe Collections Healthy for Good: Recipes Sriracha-Glazed Chicken with Paprika Butternut Squash Indian-Spiced Pumpkin-Apple Soup Chicken and Black Bean. Follow these steps to begin a healthy lifestyle for a. Even small changes made gradually lead to significant benefits. There are no special foods or hard-to-follow recipes required. Plus, the hemp seeds in the recipe have the ideal ratio of omega-6 to omega-3 fatty acids for reducing heart disease risk. And the magnesium it contains will help keep your ticker healthy. Nutrition also plays a huge role in keeping your heart healthy. With this flexible and balanced eating plan, you can enjoy plenty of fruits and vegetables, fish, poultry, lean meats, beans, nuts, whole grains and low-fat dairy. Heart healthy, delicious, and easy-to-make recipes make this book an absolute must-have for anyone looking to beat or manage chronic heart diseases. The gorgeous, bright pink hue of this vegan smoothie will help you get energized at any time of day. There are various ways to improve your heart health, such as reducing stress, getting more sleep, and exercising. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, heart disease is the leading cause of death in the U.S., which means that focusing on your heart health is essential to living a longer, healthier life.

#Heart healthy delicious recipes

[kip-whitmer]

intake interview | caelan whitmer

“I’m just pulling up your file, can you remind me where you were before joining us at Colony 22?”

[Kip slides a little further down in his seat, arms folded and face sullen. He’d not exactly been having the time of his life at Colony 4, but at least he’d been comfortable there -- now he’s resentful because the life he’d been starting to build there has been uprooted, and he seems to have arrived alongside a bunch of fucking fascists.] 

Oh good, are we making bland small talk while Echo boots up? I feel like you could’ve gone for some more compelling questions though. You can find out the answer yourself in a second. Why don’t you ask something more interesting, like my favourite colour, or food or something? It’s pink, and fries with mayo, if you’re interested. Oh, it’s loaded now? Cool.

“Do you or did you have much involvement with Infected persons?”

[Uh, obviously? You have to really try to not have any Infected people in your life. What, is he meant to be grabbing everyone’s wrists immediately on meeting them and checking their status to make sure he doesn’t get too close? Why the fuck would he do that? They’re saying Infected like it’s a dirty word.]

No, I wake up every morning and induce a full out-of-body experience to get some distance between me and my Infected body. [The ‘???’ is audible in his voice; Kip looks at the interviewer like they’re stupid.] 

“As I’m sure you can appreciate, we strive to offer a welcoming environment to all of our residents. It’s our hope that we can rebuild a co-operative society, which means we discourage our residents from getting involved in any… upsetting political discourse. Do we understand each other? Do you have any concerns?”

[Please, he thinks, talk more like the main villain from a young adult novel. Just because it’s the apocalypse, that doesn’t mean you have to lean into stereotypes. Jesus. Kip rolls his eyes, head tilted back with a ‘humph’. He doesn’t appreciate the thought police telling him he can’t talk politics, on principal if nothing else. It’s not like Kip is hugely politically motivated, but he doesn’t like being told what to do, and he’s always sort of thrived on conflict.] 

Concerns? Yeah. Several. Every word out of your mouth so far is a red flag. I’m not really into abuse dynamics so if you could actually just point me to the door, I’ll see myself back out into the Wastes.

[He’s not really worried about being an ass, because what are they going to do? They already stuck a tracker in his neck and told him nobody was allowed to leave. They already put him on the highest security class, and beyond that they’ll just chuck him in isolation. Given what a burden he finds being around people since his Infection developed, they’d really be doing him a favour with that one.]

“How do you feel you’ve been adjusting to life these last few years? Is there anything we can provide for you in the way of additional support?”

[This is so skeevy. Kip feels his skin starting to crawl; it’s a nice question, but the context and tone of the interviewer makes him feel like this is some sort of test.] 

I mean, yeah, it’s been pretty tough, you know? I’d not even finished puberty when the world ended. Didn’t even finish figuring out who I am. You got porn here? You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I watched porn. I’m thinking like, dom daddy - little boy vibes if you’ve got that kind of stuff but at this point I’m not picky.

[Annoyingly, the interviewer barely reacts beyond a faint thinning of their lips. Kip wants a reaction; he’d rather they slapped him in the face rather than continuing to stare at him with that level, bland inquisitiveness.]

“The people here seem to really value the health and stability of the community. The NWRF wants to protect that. In what way do you see yourself fitting in and contributing?”

Actually, I’d like to pull an Uno reverse on that one, and ask how you see yourselves contributing to my life since you -- and by you I mean ‘the powers that be’, whatever you’re calling yourself now --  sent me here. I'm not really concerned about ‘fitting in’. I’m more concerned with why you think shipping me off to this miserable little island is going to suddenly make a saint out of me.

[If they actually read his file instead of just having it in front of them like it’s some sort of power move, they’d see Kip never fit in. They’d see how he got expelled from school, and how he got fired from his internship, and how he got removed from Colony 4. It seems really fucking unfair, actually, that they’re going to sit here and ask how he fits in when it is so painfully clear that Kip’s never known how to do that.]

“Do you have any existing connections of significance here at Colony 22? Would you mind telling me a little about these relationships?”

[At this point Kip is beginning to shut down. This whole interview has been invasive and embarrassing, and he’s really not interested in getting into this with them. What do they want him to say? Yeah, I was at 4 with Corbin and we used to hook up, you want the gory details? You wanna know who was on top? You wanna know how I felt about it?]

Do you really think I’d tell you? Like, really? [His tone is disparaging, but he’s really asking. This situation is so not conducive to a friendly little intimate chat. He’s assuming they’re going off some kind of script; has this worked on anyone else? Kip finds it hard to imagine anyone sits here and shares, in total earnest, the details of their personal relationships.] 

#col22interview

[atths--twice]

Continuing on...

Chapter Three     3/8

Quests and Fortunes 

After a night of sadness, Mulder wants to spend time with Scully and cheer her up if he can.

Mulder stood outside of Scully’s apartment with bags of food in his hands, as he waited for her to open the door. He had picked up a late lunch on his way over, intending to take full advantage of the day off and spend it with her.

The door opened and she seemed shocked to see him. She was in jeans and the softest, bluest sweater he had ever seen. He wanted to run his hands up and down her arms to see if it was as soft as he imagined. Her eyes were even bluer than normal and he felt as thought he he could drown in them.

“Mulder! What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“Well,” he said, as he pushed past her and set the bags on the table. “I was home and thinking that some food would be nice. Then I thought you would probably be hungry by now after you ate...” He trailed off as he glanced at the plate that held the bagel and doughnut from earlier. Finding the bagel still remaining, he looked at her and grinned. “You chose wisely, I see.”

“Shut up,” she said as she closed the door and joined him at the table. She tried to hide her smile but she was not able to do so.

“So, what did you get for, what are we calling this, lunch?” she asked with a glance at the clock, as her stomach grumbled. Oh, apparently it had been awhile since that doughnut. He grinned wider and she smiled back.

“I went to Sal’s and got you your regular and for myself, a super delicious meal,” he said as he began to unpack the bags.

“Are you implying that my food is not delicious?” she asked, staring at him with raised eyebrows. “And I doubt you got my order down. I don’t always get the same thing, you know.”

He scoffed. “Scully, that’s crap and you know it. Prepare to, once again, be amazed at my abilities.” He cracked his knuckles, rolled his neck, and took a deep breath. “Thin sliced turkey on wheat bread, no mayo, light mustard, tomatoes, sprouts, pickle- on the side. Salad, vinaigrette dressing- also on the side. Croutons in a bag, so they don’t get soggy and lose their croutony crunch. Sparkling water, with a lemon wedge-in a container, also on the side,” he said with a proud voice, as he pulled each item out of the bag and presented them to her. He stared at her, daring her to say he got it wrong.

She smiled at him, an adorable smile that he very rarely saw. He remembered her first smiling at him like that years ago, in Aubrey, Missouri, as she talked about his extreme hunches. His heart beat fast seeing it then and it damn near did cartwheels seeing it now. She nodded through her smile and began opening the containers that sat in front of her before sitting down.

He sat next to her and opened a container to reveal a super messy sandwich. Full of mayonnaise, mustard, ham, cheese, turkey, tomatoes, onions, lettuce- all on sourdough. He took a huge bite and she shook her head as she watched him chewing his food. He knew he had to have mayo and mustard on his face, which she confirmed when she reached over and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He grinned, licking his lips before taking another giant bite.

She continued staring at him, eating as though he had not seen food in years. She shook her head once more and took a small bite of her food, as though to show him that people could be civil and not disgusting. He watched her and grinned.

“Your sandwich looks pretty good. You wanna switch?” he asked, offering the other half of his sandwich to her.

She eyed it suspiciously, but then agreed to trying it only, and he smiled. He knew that once she tasted it, she would not give it back; he just had to present it the right way.

She took a couple of bites and then simply finished off the other half of his sandwich. He nodded knowingly at her and she stared back at him, narrowing her eyes. He wiped her face this time, as she was sporting the remnants of his sandwich, while he was left with her bland, boring sandwich. He did not complain, however, wanting her to eat, so he said nothing about the lack of taste and enjoyment her food brought him.

She ate her salad, but offered him half. He accepted and they squabbled and fought over the croutons, each trying to be the first to spear them with their forks. An odd grown up version of Hungry Hungry Hippos. Mulder chuckled as the jingle for that game from so many years ago popped into his head.

“Scully, do you remember the Hungry Hippos commercial?” he asked as he smiled at her.

She looked at him quizzically, then at the salad with its remaining croutons mostly on his side. She seemed to give it some thought and then she looked up at him and grinned. “Who will win? No one knows! Feed the hungry hip-hip-o’s!”

They both laughed and he spun the salad container so that the croutons were within her reach. She looked at him and smiled her thanks as he cleaned up the trash from their meal and then pulled the last item out of the bag.

Sal’s sandwiches were the best in the city, so Mulder thought. It was a small little deli type place, owned by Sal, his wife and their three sons. All the bread was made on site every day and thus the sandwiches were extremely delicious, if the lines out the door were proof of it. However, nothing compared to the desserts his wife made.

Cakes, brownies, cookies, all made from scratch and with love. Sal’s wife, Sylvia, was a big bosomy, old world, Italian woman. Her apron was always full of flour and she pushed her treats on everyone who came into the shop.

“Life is to be enjoyed. Have a cookie, a brownie. I made them this morning. They are good. Eat!” She was always heard to say, her smile infectious.

Today, Mulder had splurged on the Brownie Supremo and her smile was worth the price he had paid for it. She had wrapped it up for him carefully and thrown in a frosted sugar cookie, which he ate on the way to the car, the buttery sweetness melting on his tongue.

“You give this to your woman,” Sylvia had said. “She is too skinny. She needs some meat on her bones.”

He did not try to explain their relationship to her. He just nodded and grinned, taking the dessert from her and adding it to his bag.

He placed the brownie on the table and opened the lid, his mouth watering at the sight of it. It was chocolate overload with caramel swirling within. Licking his lips, he looked at her.

“Mmm... Scully, Sylvia gave this to me today with strict instructions that you were to have some. So,” he said grabbing two forks from the bag, “unless you want to anger the sweetest Italian mother I have ever known, I suggest you do as told.”

He held out a fork to her and waited. She looked exasperatedly at him, then down to the dessert. She looked at him again, and he pushed the fork closer to her. Sighing, she grabbed it from him.

He grinned and motioned for her to take the first bite. She sighed again and dug her fork into the brownie. The chocolate and caramel practically created a river inside the container. She got a bite on her fork and the caramel stretched with it, stringing across the table. She put the fork in her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head as the first taste of chocolate hit her tongue.

She moaned as she chewed and Mulder was mesmerized watching her. He knew it was wrong to find her eating arousing, but shit, it was. Her moans and her eyes closing like that, made him think things he should not be thinking and he took a bite to cover his emotions.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, as the caramel and chocolate merged in his mouth. “That is goddamn delicious.” He took another bite and closed his eyes just as she had.

Between the two of them, the brownie was gone in no time at all. She was running her finger inside the container and licking off the remaining caramel, when he asked if she would like a spoon, or perhaps a straw. She told him to shut up and she sucked her finger into her mouth, causing him to clear his throat and look away.

After they had cleared everything up and the kitchen was back to Scully’s neat and tidy order, Mulder went into the living room. He was looking at her collection of movies and he smiled when he grabbed the one he wanted. Taking it out, he put it in the VCR, taking off his coat and settling down on the couch with the remote.

“Scully, come over here,” he said, patting the couch. “No paperwork today, and time off work means movies in the middle of the day.” He grinned at her as she walked over and sat next to him.

“Mulder... what movie are we...” She stopped speaking as she heard it starting. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

She looked at him and smiled, bringing her legs up under her cross legged, and nodding while he grinned like a fool.

For the next few hours, they watched the movie, saying lines they knew, discussing parts they liked best, the ones that bothered them and characters they loved most. They paused the movie a lot to have in depth discussions and Mulder found her contributions to be incredibly intellectually arousing.

He discovered that Scully had a soft spot for both Marcus Brody and Sallah. She loved Marcus because he was oblivious and a lovable dolt and Sallah because he was such a sweet guy. He was always looking out for Indy and he was there anytime they needed him.

“Marcus though, Mulder, he gets lost in his own museum. How can you not find affection for a goof like him?” she asked, a big smile on her face.

She did not care for Elsa and showed it by rolling her eyes a lot when she was on screen. The fact that she slept with both Jones’ apparently back to back, got on her nerves.

“I get the appeal, for all parties, because...” She trailed off as he stared at her and paused the movie, giving her his full attention so she could explain herself.

She smiled so hard, her dimples showed and his near cartwheeling heart started doing backflips instead.

“Elsa is beautiful, there is no denying that, but there are better ways to get close to someone than sex. Of course, it is quicker, but sex and trust do not a combination make. The two do not equal the other,” she said as he stared at her. “Now, both Jones men are incredibly attractive, there is also no denying that, but falling for the honey pot just makes them appear simple. They are intelligent men, but put a pair of flirty boobs and blonde hair in front of them, and it makes them seem like they are idiots.”

“”Flirty boobs,” Scully?” he asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

“You know what I mean, Mulder. So if she came to you, giving you the big eyes and the sad stories, all while using her... yes “flirty boobs,” you’re telling me you wouldn’t fall for it?” she asked him with a twitch of her lips and a raised eyebrow.

He looked at her, trying to gauge how far he could take his answer. How far he could go without pushing past that line they seemed to be unable or unwilling to cross?

“Nah...” he said finally, looking at the television screen frozen on Elsa’s face. “They send in the blonde bombshells... you know it’s a trap. I’ve watched enough spy movies to know that much.” She nodded, apparently happy with his answer.

“Besides, she’s not exactly my type,” he said, ready to restart the movie.

“She’s not!” he said at her silent, side eyed expression. “I like women with regular boobs, thank you. Flirty ones... hmm, they seem like too much work. How would you ever buy lingerie as a gift for someone that has them?” She laughed so hard at his comment, he waited until she was quiet to start the movie again.

When Henry was shot, he heard her take a breath as she looked away for a second, and he understood what she was not saying. The Nazis wanted Indy’s help and he was not willing to give it. They hurt someone he loved as incentive so he would do what they wanted. How many times had he and Scully been in the same situation? How many times had Scully suffered because of him?

“Oh, this is my favorite part,” she said, her eyes back on the screen, the tense moment seemingly passed and Indy was about to perform his tests of worthiness.

Instead of watching the movie, he covertly watched her. Her rapt attention to the movie, the way she mumbled the lines, her expressions as she did. Watching her enjoy something he loved made him immensely happy. Seeing her lose herself in a movie, one that was somewhat scientific, though still fictional, made him even happier. The need to be intellectually stimulated while also being entertained was so Scully.

She was leaning forward, her hands clasped together as Indy was taking his leap of faith. She smiled as he stepped out and his foot hit the pathway. She looked at Mulder, finding him staring at her.

“What?” she asked, surprised to find him looking at her so intently.

“Nothing,” he answered. She gave him a look, but then turned back to the movie. He did too, not wanting to get caught staring again.

Elsa and Donovan were in the small temple with Indy and the Knight, trying to find the grail. Elsa asked to pick the grail and Scully scoffed at her choice and then sighed as Mulder grinned at her.

“Oh Donovan...” Scully said. “See? He fell for it. Believed she was right when she handed him that cup. What a damn fool. Jesus was not ostentatious. He was a simple carpenter. People go for the flash and bang, they end up disappointed. Flirty boobs, Mulder. I’m telling you,” she said with an overly dramatic shake of her head.

He chuckled as he watched Donovan drink from the deceitful chalice, unknown to him that Elsa tricked him.

“See, that’s why it’s good you didn’t choose the bagel this morning,” he told her as they watched Donovan disintegrate before their eyes and she smiled at him.

The correct cup was chosen and Scully smiled. “That’s the cup of a carpenter” she said along with Indy.

Henry’s bullet wound was healed by the power of the grail. Here again, they had to pause the movie for awhile as they discussed what happened to the bullet in his stomach. Did it dissolve or would he live with a bullet in him forever? Or was it as if the whole thing never even happened? Mulder said they should open an x-file and she laughed.

They both then laughed over the similar situations of Elsa and Indy trying to reach the grail as the temple was crashing down.

The movie ended as it should, with good conquering evil, the last living Knight finally laying down his sword to be at peace. Mulder turned the movie off and asked her for her five top moments and he would tell her his.

She smiled and nodded. “The leap of faith, the “everything is on fire” scene, the boat fight, the misspelling of Jehovah, and X marks the spot.” She raised her eyebrows and waited.

He grinned at her and pretended to think for a bit until she shoved him and he laughed. “Okay, okay. The tapestries, the Ming vase, the room is on fire, the walk through the catacombs, and when Henry is saved.”

She nodded and accepted his answer. She got up and stretched, yawning as she did. He tried not to notice her body as she stretched, but Jesus, a man could only be so strong.  

“Should we order some Chinese food?” he asked as he got up as well, forcing his mind off of what it was thinking, his phone out ready to dial.

“Mulder, are you really hungry? It’s only been..." She looked at her watch. “Four and a half hours?! Oh my god...” She shook her head and looked at him.

“Think of all the stimulating conversation we had though, Scully,” he said, dialing the number to Wong’s Palace, the place they always ordered from.

“I’m going to take a bath,” she said as she turned to walk away.

“You don’t want anything?” he asked as the phone started ringing. “Broc-“

“Broccoli beef sounds okay, I suppose." She realized he was already saying it, when she finished. She smiled and he grinned back as he ordered their food and she headed toward the bathroom.

“Hey, Scully,” he said, taking a few steps toward her, as he ended the call. She raised her eyebrows as she stood in the bathroom doorway. “There is ha documentary on about Bigfoot and some new footage that has apparently come to light. Do you want me to tape it for you? It’s on right now and..." He stopped speaking at the look on her face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, with his hands up and a smile on his face as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

“Hey, Scully,” he said again, to the closed door.

“Yes, Mulder, I’m sure,” she said before he heard the water start running. He laughed and walked back to the couch to watch the show.

A while later, dinner had been eaten, Mulder regaling her with the things she had missed in the documentary. She stared at him, sighed, and rolled her eyes just as he had thought she would.

She walked past him when they had finished, putting away the leftovers, and he got a whiff of her bubble bath. She smelled so good, like jasmine. He remembered her telling him how much she loved that smell and he understood why; she smelled like spring and summer. Warm and light.

Her house phone rang and she looked at him in surprise. She answered it and he heard her mother’s voice through the phone. He heard the one sided conversation, but did not pay much attention until he heard his name.

“Mulder? I don’t think he could make lunch tomorrow, Mom. Yeah, he has plans, I think. Sure, I could ask him. Now? But we’re on the phone, I’ll call him later. What? What makes you think...? Okay...” She sighed, covered the phone, and looked at him. “Would you like to join me and my mother for lunch tomorrow?” She stared at him and shook her head.

He nodded at her and she waited a beat. “Yeah, Mom, he won’t be able to join us. I know. I will. Yes, tomorrow at 1:30. I’ll see you there. Love you too. Bye.” She hung up the phone and closed her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked her, knowing what she was thinking about; whether or not to tell her mother about the IVF. “Hey, Scully,” he said quietly, touching her hand. “I can be there if you like, take some of the pressure off. Your mom likes me. I could be your wingman.”

She smiled slightly at him and squeezed his hand in response. “Thank you, Mulder, but I’ll be okay. Not sure if I’ll even tell her yet, but... it... it would be easier if it was just me and her.” She nodded at him and he squeezed her hand in support.

She let go of his hand and she turned toward her room. He watched her start to leave, wishing he could ease the pain she was feeling.

“Scully, wait. You didn’t get your fortune cookie." He grabbed it and walked over to her.

She sighed as he handed it to her and, not meeting his eyes, she walked into her room, closing the door softly behind her.

He stood there with his own cookie in his hand, staring at her closed door. Not sure if he should stay or go, he stood there waiting.

Her door opened and she had two pillows and a blanket in her arms. She met his eyes and he had his answer, her silent question asking him to stay. He nodded at her as he watched her set the things on the couch.

She walked past him again and quietly said goodnight, before returning to her room and shutting the door.

He stood still for a few more seconds before shaking out of his thoughts. He felt the cookie digging into his palm and he cracked it open, popping the cookie in his mouth as he read his fortune.

You will follow your path to what your heart desires.

He felt the air go out of his lungs as he looked at her door, his heart's desire standing on the other side of it. His heart pounded as he read the words again. He sighed and shook his head sadly. Now was not the time, he was sure of it, but he would hold onto this fortune and one day hopefully, he would give it to her.

The cookie in his mouth felt like clay and he had a hard time swallowing past the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. He put the scrap of paper in his wallet and went to the bathroom.

The toothbrush he used the night before was still there. He liked seeing it there, as though it belonged there next to hers. He sighed and shook his head as he grabbed it and the toothpaste. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, used the toilet, and washed his hands before heading back to the couch.

He turned most of the lights out, leaving the room in a soft glow. He took off his jeans, outer shirt, and his shoes, laying them on a chair. He adjusted the pillows and stretched out on the couch. Covering up, he turned on his side to watch the television, the volume turned down low.

He slid a hand between the pillows and felt something scratchy. He pulled it out and saw it was a fortune cookie paper. Scully’s fortune. He got up, turned the light on over the kitchen table to read her fortune.

Your journey will reward you with the answers you seek.

He grinned and looked at her door again. Looking down at the fortune, he imagined her reading it. He wondered if she had thought the same thing he did; about the movie they had watched tonight, and how it seemed to pertain to them on many levels.

He turned off the light, put her fortune next to his in his wallet, and lay back down on the couch. He thought of what Henry had said at the end of the movie. That Elsa never believed in the grail, but saw it as a prize to be won, and that was ultimately her downfall.

He thought of Scully. She may not believe in things like ghosts, sea monsters, vampires, or Bigfoot, but she respected the journey. She was there by his side no matter the outcome. She was not on this journey to win a prize, but because she believed in him and his quest to find the truth.

He laughed quietly and shook his head at the thought that they must have gotten each other’s fortunes, but then he sobered. No. As usual the universe seemed to give them what they both needed to hear.

She needed to hear that the crazy journey she was on would eventually be fruitful. He needed to hear that the quest was not what was most important. To stop... get out of the damn car and take a chance, getting off the crazy ride.

He lay on his back and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He could feel a change in them. Not just with the IVF, but them. Something was coming and he knew it was going to be a step forward, a step for good. His backflipping heart settled and he took a few deep breaths. They could not stand in one place for much longer. A change was in the air, so much so, the universe seemed to feel it.

Soon, he thought, as he surrendered to sleep.

Soon.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Per Manum #Lunch #Sweets and Desserts #Spending Time Together #Watching a Movie #Chinese Food #Fortunes and hope for the future #Sleeping Over

[dashboardcat]

I Try One of Everything at Salt City Market (Part 2)

Remember like 3 weeks ago when I did a write-up of a food hall in my hometown, guaranteed to attract the attention of like, 2 people?  Well, it’s time for more of that! 

Attempt #1

While there wasn’t a line outside this time, the market itself seemed just as busy as it was the day after the grand opening.  I also tried to make a point to take in more of the decor, but I don’t think I really have anything new to add other than the fact that I watched not one but two people struggle to stuff the big paper bags their food came in into the trendy, tiny-opening trash cans.  More importantly, I forgot that like, half of the stands are closed on Mondays, meaning I would have to come back another time to finish my quest. 

ERMA’S ISLAND- Jerk Pork (half portion)- $10

I want to say right off the bat that of all the things I’ve tried from this market, this was hands down the best smelling.  And thankfully, the pork pretty much tasted as good as it smelled.  It was tender and juicy, and the sauce was complex, with a good amount of heat that didn’t overpower the other flavors.  The rice and beans that it came with, on the other hand, was a little bland, but that’s nothing that mixing the sauce into can’t fix.  

Unfortunately, I can never show my face there again, because when the cashier asked me if I wanted the half or whole portion, I said “Yeah,” and made her repeat herself like 3 times.

MAMMA HAI- “Marco Polo” Banh Mi- $10

Yes, that’s pepperoni on a banh mi.

The roll was nice and crusty, and to be honest, that’s like 90% of what makes a good sandwich for me.  Unfortunately, the pickled veggies and cilantro (and this blog is pro-cilantro, get over yourselves, haters) sort of overpowered the pepperoni and the char siu pork, which is a shame because I wanted that pepperoni to shine.  If this was a $5 banh mi, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, but at $10 I would have liked a little more meat, or at least for the already existing meat to make its presence felt.  The pate and mayo kinda also get lost, but do present a bit of richness in about every other bite (and, for another controversial sandwich opinion, I don’t necessarily think that every bite of a sandwich has to have an even distribution of everything, otherwise the flavors sort of just blur together after a while).  Overall, it’s a fairly decent sandwich, but left me longing for something more.  They also have a curry chicken banh mi, maybe that one has a better balance of flavor.

CAKE BAR- Locus Cake- $6.50

One thing about Cake Bar that isn’t made apparent by looking at their stand is that, according to their website, it’s meant to resemble a Vietnamese cafe.  In hindsight, this kinda explains the wide variety of specialty teas (specialteas, if you will) they also had available.

The chocolate cake was moist and had little crispy bits running throughout it.  At first, I thought it was eggshells, because I’m an idiot and always assume the worst.  After picking out an especially large chunk, I realized it was broken up bits of Biscoff cookies! (Further research has shown me that the parent company that makes Biscoff cookies is called Locus, thus, y’know, the name of the cake.  Probably should have put that together sooner, it literally says “Locus” on the cookie, one of which was lodged into the top of the cake.)  The buttercream was surprisingly light, and the caramel on top had the perfect consistency, gooey enough to stay put but not so gooey that it turned into a stringy mess after running your fork through it.  The only negative thing I really have to say about the all-around experience was that the box they used made it kind of difficult to get the slice out of it (as you can see, I ended up just tearing the sides up).

Attempt #2 

Since the market is relatively close to my work, I figured I would drop by after work one day to bang out the rest of the list.

BAGHDAD RESTAURANT- Beef Shawarma- $6.99

At first, I laughed to myself upon seeing it in one of those gas station sub bags.  The laughing faded pretty quickly, though, upon seeing it was, in fact served on a sub roll. I'm not a shawarma expert. maybe that can be an acceptable way to eat it? The beef was well spiced and that perfect sweet spot between tender and still having something to sink your teeth into.  Unfortunately, that’s more or less where my compliments end.  What little sauce the menu promised (just called “sauce,” don’t ask me what it is) has soaked into the bread and completely disappeared, making the whole thing somewhat dry and lackluster.  Also, they didn’t cut it, which was fine with the heartier banh mi’s baguette but with the softer sub roll didn’t have the structural integrity to be picked up whole without a struggle.  My biggest gripe with it is mostly on me, though, as the juice from the pickles tainted most of it with pickle stank, which could have been avoided entirely if I had just ordered it without.  

SOULUTIONS- Mustard and Berbere Fried Chicken ($6) and FIRE MAC ($4)

(Note- the $6 order of chicken comes with 2 of these chicken cutlets, but I carelessly ate one before taking the picture.)

I do want to clear the air here and say that yes, I did accidentally order fried chicken and mac and cheese from both of the soul food places.  I was originally going to get the burger, at my friend’s recommendation, but the menu board by the register suspiciously didn’t have the burger on it, so I panicked and ordered the fried chicken again.  

While the breading was stained yellow from mustard, the honey mustard taste was very subtle.  I also have to admit to not knowing off the top of my head what berbere (I had to google it, it’s an Ethiopian spice blend) tastes like, so i can't tell you if this tasted like that.  But, despite not being especially strong in either of the namesake seasonings, it definitely is a flavorful piece of chicken nonetheless.  Flavors work that way sometimes.

The Fire Mac may not have delivered as strongly on cheese as I may have liked, but it definitely did deliver on the fire, drizzled with a tangy buffalo-esque sauce.  And Topped with crumbled bits of fried chicken skins? Can’t go wrong with that.

JUICE AND FLOWERS- “Root | 12” Juice- $8

Misleading name, I didn’t see any flowers anywhere.  Zero stars. 

The beet and lemon were the most pronounced of the flavors, with the ginger lingering on the palate and, unsurprisingly, the apple and carrot mostly being there to round the whole thing out.  The employee that waited on me was very passionate and knowledgeable about the juice, informing me that 2 pounds of produce had gone into this little bottle, and that it’d have a shelf life of 3-5 days.  Which is good, because I put it back in the fridge after I got home to chill it back down, and then proceeded to forget about it for 3 days.  It’s also a very thick and hearty juice, so it doesn’t feel that weird to only want to drink half a bottle in one sitting and, y’know, make this $8 bottle of juice last a little longer. 

Attempt #3

Knowing fully well that I was going to have a long night shift ahead of me, I decided to check out the Coffee Bar side of the market for what would be my third trip over the course of 5 days.  I feel like I should also point out that the Coffee Bar, as its name literally breaks down as, serves coffee during the day and a full bar at night.  I also noticed during this visit that the Coffee Bar has a patio seating area under construction, cheesy string lights and all, that I am looking forward to.

Fruity Pebbles Latte- $6

Against my best judgement, I got it “for here” for the sake of the pic, even though a.) I had to break my rule of not eating in places because this fucking pandemic isn’t over yet and b.) I was nervous about being late for work the whole time (I did, in fact, get there on time).  As I waited, I could see their secret recipe fruity pebbles milk sitting on the counter.  It was, in fact, fruity pebbles and milk.  

I didn’t really think the Fruity Pebbles would work with the espresso, having had been burned before by places that just dump them onto things with no regard of the flavor profile just for the sake of the burst of color.  But, somehow… it did work.  Maybe it’s because cereal milk is never quite as strong as some might hope, but the subtle fruitiness of the milk played well with the chocolatey notes in the espresso.  The espresso itself probably also had the best crema on it that I’ve ever seen on a latte (and yes, I had to google the pretentious espresso-snob term for the foam that floats to the top).

Also shoutout to the pour over, which on their menu board is priced at "4-ish"

I’m so glad I’m living with my parents again at the moment.  Otherwise, this whole thing would’ve been like, a month’s worth of my food budget.

#food #restaurant reviews #salt city market

[softboywriting]

Holding Fire | Shawn Mendes | Firefighter AU

Summary: Shawn is the newest member of Fire Station 15′s crew and he’s a hot one. It’s not long before you and Shawn hit it off and start an amazing new relationship. Will it last or go up in flames? [firefighter au] [slight angst] [fluff] 

Word Count: 18k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you were ten years old you watched your father’s bakery burn to the ground. When you were sixteen years old you watched your house burn to the ground. Now at twenty two you work at the deli across the street from the fire station that responded to both of those fires and saved you and your families lives. Two of the older firefighters and your father's ex coworkers, Mike and Jack, both stayed in contact with you and became like family to you and your sister after your father died when you were nineteen.

The owner of the deli is Mike, now an ex firefighter, and he hired you just after your dad passed away. The deli is nice and small, you have a few tables for eat in guests and you serve sandwiches and breakfast made to order on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s a local hang out for a lot of the town’s police officers and firefighters and it really feels like home. You have gotten to know everybody by name, you’ve memorized their orders and you even keep up with their personal lives as they come in and talk about their day while you make their lunches. Nothing ever changed much in your little town, not until you watched Shawn walk through the doors of the deli one day, Fire and Safety Station 15 shirt tight across his chest. That day...well...it was something.

______________

“Has lover boy stopped in yet today?” Mariel, your best friend and colleague asks from where she is wiping down the cutting boards after slicing up some lettuce for the upcoming lunch rush. “I heard he couldn’t stop staring at you the other day.”

“Mariel! That is not true! Who told you that?” you laugh and she just zips her lips. “Oh you’re the worst. But no, he hasn’t come in today. It’s not even lunchtime yet, he’s probably out working.”

“Oh yes, out saving kittens from trees and kissing babies!” Mariel cackles as she heads to the back room to grab some bread to put in the oven. “Oh Shawn, please, come rescue me!”

You turn scarlet and throw a towel at her. “Stop it! You’re so mean!”

“You’re so single. Get his number, or I will.”

“Mariel you wouldn’t.” She raises her eyebrows as if to challenge your statement. “Mare, you better not. You know I like him and that would be-”

Someone clears their throat at the order counter behind you and you turn around to see Shawn standing there with a flushed face and mess of wet curls on his head. “Could I order?” he smiles, biting his lip.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you splutter, grabbing your order pad and a pen out of your pocket.

“Long enough to know you were arguing about a guy?” Shawn laughs and you let out a sigh. He hadn’t heard his name. Thank god.

You put your pen and pad on the counter and start scribbling down the orders Shawn gives you for the guys at the station. “And what would you like?” you ask, looking up to see he is smiling at you.

“Actually, I’d like you to make me something today. Your favorite?”

“Yeah?” you giggle and he crosses his arms, making that oh so fitted tee pull across his chest. “You think you can handle my favorite?”

Shawn bites his lip and chuckles. “I think I can handle it, just no tuna please. I’m not wild on tuna salad sandwiches.”

“Damn, my favorite is the tuna.”

“Really?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No! No really. Tuna is gross. Alright, one special of the day.” You scribble it down on your order pad and clip it up on the sandwich station. Mariel comes over and helps you to prepare meats on the slicer for the sandwiches while Shawn leans with his arms folded against the high counter where the toppings are all displayed for easy choosing.

“He’s staring at you,” Mariel whispers and you clench your jaw. “I think he is looking at your ass.”

“Mariel, I’m going to slice my hand if you don’t stop distracting me.”

“I’m just saying, he’s staring right over the counter like a love sick puppy dog.”

You turn around to grab a new ham from the cold case under the topping station and you’re met with Shawn staring, just like Mariel said. “Was there something else you needed?” you ask and Shawn shakes his head. “Just curious?”

“Very curious.”

Mariel turns around and grins. “Curious enough to ask for her number?”

Shawn turns bright red and looks between the two of you. “Well I-I really meant I was curious about what kind of sandwich she's making me.”

“It's a special. Don't worry about it,” you smile teasingly and Shawn drops his head against the top of the case. “I know what you like.”

“Damn girl,” Mariel clucks, elbowing your side. “He's gonna turn into a tomato if you keep up that flirting.”

From the counter behind you, you hear a mumbled “too late” and you know it's Shawn still hiding his face in his arms. He was so cute, a grown man but still somehow boyishly cute. Ugh. Perfect.

You prepare Shawn's sandwich the way you like yours on your lunch break. A classic Italian with extra pepperoni, olive moufletta and spicy brown mustard, toasted. You're sure he will love it. He always got the Italian cold or the French dipped roast beef with extra onion and pepper relish. You had to admit, the guy had good taste in sandwiches. Unlike some guys who came in and they looked cute but their plain turkey with American cheese and mayo turned you way off. Bland eats what bland is.

Mariel helps you sack up the sandwiches and label them according to the list Shawn gave you. She spares you any further embarrassment or attempts at flirting and rings him up while you clean up the slicer and building station. That doesn't stop Shawn from saying goodbye, smiling and tucking a ten dollar bill into the tip jar on his way out.

“You gotta get that man tied down,” Mariel says as she watches him jog across the street. “He's too fine to be the one that got away.”

You wipe your hands on your apron and shrug. “Well...I dunno. I'm just a little wary about him. Like where did he come from? We know everyone in town and this mysterious stranger just appears and has an interest in me? I dunno.”

Mariel rolls her eyes. “You're such a weirdo. If you need to know his whole life story why don't you ask him out?”

“I can't! I mean look at him!”

“Look at you! Damn he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread! Come on girl read the signals, they're saying, date me date me in big flashing red letters!” Mariel flashes her hands out in front of you for emphasis. “Don't. Let. Him. Slip. Away.”

“Okay! Fine. This weekend is the annual firehouse block party. I'll try to talk to him then.”

“You better or else I'm going to find some way to trap you in a room with him so you have no choice.”

“I will. I promise.”

__________________

Station 15’s annual block party was the event of the summer. It was held at the end of August every year rain or shine and always included live music, barbecue, dancing, games, you name it. Ever since you were little you could remember going to it. The real fun started after the kids went home and it was just the adults in the firehouse drinking and shooting the shit with each other. You remember how your dad would always talk for hours with Mike and Jack, sending you and your sister home with the babysitter for the night. It wasn't until you were eighteen that you were allowed to stay, and even then it was mostly older towns people who stuck around.

These days there was a lot more of a younger crowd, people in their twenties like you are. All your friends having come back from college or having already graduated. The party is bigger now, with families growing every year it seemed. You love it, seeing everyone so happy and together. Usually you'd end up playing games with the young kids because they always looped you into their shenanigans, but this year you had a different agenda. One with Shawn written all over it.

“Can I get a whiskey ginger?” You call out to the guy with his back to you at the bar that is set up inside the firehouse garage. He turns and you find it's none other than Shawn.

“Hey,” he beams, smile going ear to ear. “I didn't know if I'd see you tonight.”

“Ah yeah, I come every year. What about you? Why are you bartending?”

Shawn grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts preparing your drink. “Well I volunteered while the actual bartender stepped out to get some more ice. He should be back soon.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” You chuckle as he accidentally pours the soda all over the little wooden countertop.

“Shit,” he mumbles, wiping it up quick. “I do know what I'm doing surprisingly. Bar tending put me through college,” he chuckles, passing you your drink in it's red solo cup.

You raise your eyebrows. A firefighter who was a bartender who possibly has a degree. What kind of dream boat were you dealing with. “That's interesting, what'd you go to college for?”

“Nothing really, I ended up just going to a community college in Ashland for two years before I decided I hated it. A friend of mine got me into the fire academy and here I am.”

“Wow, you like it though? Firefighting?”

Shawn makes himself a whiskey ginger as well and places it next to yours on the counter top. “It has its days but it's generally very rewarding.”

The bartender returns with a bag of ice that he pours into a cooler. You recognize him to be a guy you went to high school with that you're pretty sure your sister dated. You don't want to hash that past out so you grab your drink and lead Shawn over to a couple of lawn chairs set up for the fireworks show.

“How bout you? College?” Shawn asks as he sinks into the chair beside you. He takes a sip and smiles expectantly.

You shake your head. “College wasn't really on the table for me when I graduated. My sister and I had a hard time after our house burnt down when I was in high school. Then not too long after I graduated my dad died so, it just...it was hell for a few years there.”

“Oh, wow. I didn't realize that I had brought up such a sore subject I'm so sorry.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair. Your dad's passing still hurt, even three years later and it still felt like just a few months ago. You missed him, especially during things like this, things he helped set up in the community. “No, it's fine. It's been three years now. Cait and I are surviving, I've got the deli and my side business. She got married last year and has a kid on the way.”

“Side business?”

“Yeah, I bake. My dad was a great baker, he started late in life after an accident as a firefighter messed up his leg, had his own place and everything. It burned down, but he reopened a year later. When he passed I couldn't run it alone and Cait had already moved out of town and was starting her own life. We closed up and I started work at the deli while baking on the side, mostly catering small events.”

Shawn crosses his arms and just looks at you. In awe of you it would seem. “You've survived two fires? Damn. My story isn't half as interesting.”

“Oh yeah? Spill your guts.”

“Well, I graduated and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took a few classes at the community college just to get some credits out of the way y’know. I picked up bartending with a friend at a bar in downtown Ashland for some extra cash. I did that for about two years before realizing I hated everything about college and the stress caused me ulcers. Another friend of mine had just joined the fire academy and I figured why not? Turned out I was pretty good at saving people.”

“So you never dreamed of being a firefighter? Like as a kid?”

“Nah, never. I wanted to be a doctor but I couldn't commit. Too much responsibility and too many years of school. I guess I just wanted to help people, and this job is just as rewarding and important as being a doctor.”

You glance over and he has his head back, watching the stars appear in the darkening sky overhead. His profile is amazing, strong jaw, perfectly shaped nose and soft lips. He was living art and you're not drunk enough to be admiring him this way. “That's pretty deep,” you say over a sip of your drink. “Do you always pour your heart out to women you like?”

Shawn chuckles as his smile grows wide, a flush on his cheeks. “I don't but I guess you're easy to talk to.”

“Yeah? You're easy to talk to too.”

A loud noise from your left makes you jump and you see a big glowing ball shoot into the air. It's the first firework and it pops, showering the sky with purple and blue light. Shawn downs the rest of his drink and stands, moving his chair right beside you instead of a foot or two away. You don't say anything about the boldness but you like it. He was definitely one worth pursuing.

______________

Sunday. You're still feeling the effects of the block party as you walk to work. You rarely drank enough to get drunk but when you did, whew, you sure did. You and Shawn had ended up meeting up with a couple of the other firefighters and staying up until well after midnight drinking and chatting. It was the most fun you've had in ages and the residual gross body and headache was well worth it.

“So you and hot stuff get together?” Mariel asks as you slip your apron over your head to start the day. “I saw you two in the firehouse drinking and giggling.”

“No,” you chuckle, grabbing some sausage from the fridge to get it started for breakfast. “Shawn walked me home and we parted ways at my doorstep. Like a gentleman.”

“Right but did he kiss you?”

“Mariel, come on! He didn't kiss me. He just said goodnight and went home.”

Mariel snorts. “Do you think he's...”

You sigh and send her a look that could cut glass. “No. I don't think he is gay. He was plenty interested in me and it is not like the time that I read everything completely wrong with William Hannover.” You flip your sausage patty angrily, hitting the flattop with a little more force than necessary with your spatula. Just the idea of going through the embarrassment like you did with William was enough to piss you off. “God, just because he didn't kiss me after one night doesn't mean he's gay. I'll have you know he was-”

Mariel eyes go wide and she mouths “Shawn” and points to the front counter. You turn slowly and Shawn is standing there. He looks like he's just gotten out of the shower, cheeks rosy and hair a little damp and wildly curly on top. His shirt is threatening to rip over his biceps as he puts his arms up on the counter. That must be some damn good cotton stretch fabric. He raises his eyebrows at you. God only knows how long he was standing there but clearly heard you going off.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “And for the record, I am not gay.”

“Oh my God.” You feel like you could just die. Just shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed. “I don't think- I mean Mariel just said that because you didn't kiss me...not that you needed to because...fuck.” You put your hand over your flushed face. What a complete ass you've made of yourself. “I've just had a misunderstanding in the past and it's really stupid and-”

“It's okay. I'm not offended or something. I just didn't kiss you because we were drunk, and I don't think anyone should do anything if they're not fully aware and consenting.” Shawn brings his hand up to prop up his chin as he stares at you, smiling around his words. “I actually came by to see if you'd like to go on a date.”

Mariel steps in and grabs the spatula from you. She pushes you toward Shawn with a “I'll worry about the food, go talk to him.”

You walk up to the counter and bite your lip. A date huh? Were you up for that? Maybe. “What kind of date?”

“Dinner? Walk on the beach? Matching tattoos?” He smirks at the last one and you narrow your eyes.

“Dinner is fine. Casual or fancy?”

“Is casual okay? Your choice of restaurant.”

You take a deep breath and smile. “Okay, casual it is. Meet me at The Crab Shack?”

“Tonight or this weekend?”

“This weekend is good. Saturday around six?”

“Perfect. Now, can I get some breakfast or...”

“Oh shit,” you feel around your apron for your order pad. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shawn laughs. “Take your time, it's a big order. All the guys want something.”

_____________________

Wednesday. You wake up and you just know it's going to be a shitty day. When you look at the calendar and see the date, you know exactly why. It's been a year since you broke up with your ex, Brodie Douglas. Six months you dated him and it seemed serious, you were sure he was gonna be the one you settled down with. Until you caught him in your bed with another girl. It was disgusting. You actually took your mattress to the dump after that and used your savings to buy a new one.

You hadn't seen Brodie since then. The day he left your house he was gone for good. He didn't live in town, he lived closer to Ashland about an hour away. It hurt, still sort of hurt to be honest and every guy since him had been a real flop too. Until Shawn. He actually seemed to have some respect for women and other human beings in general.

You push your thoughts aside, putting the past in the past where it belongs. You had work to do, people to see, a life to live. A life without any assholes in it.

You get in the shower, hot steam filling the bathroom. Your favorite body wash is almost out and you sigh, filling it halfway with hot water and shaking up the remains. That sucked. You definitely didn't want to make a trip into Ashland just to go to the bath and body works. The cab fare alone would dig into your savings. Regular drugstore body wash it would be then.

Midway through soaping up your hair you hear a knock on your front door. You figure if you ignore them they'll probably go away. Besides if it was someone you know then they could text or call you before coming over. You continue washing and the knocking returns.

“Okay fucking really,” you mutter, snatching your towel off the rack and going to the front door. Your hair is dripping wet and there is soap in your left eye. This person better really need something. “Hello?” You ask sharply as you pull open your front door to the cold morning air.

The person on your porch turns and your stomach drops. It's Brodie. His hair has grown out, he looks like he's gained a few pounds and by Gods he's so ugly. Why the fuck were you ever with him? Did he always look like this? Fucking hell.

“Hey, long time no see,” he smiles weakly.

“Goodbye.” You slam the door in his face and flip the lock. This was a joke right? He was going to show up a year later on the day you kicked him out? This had to be some sick joke. What kind of psychopath was he?

“Wait! I need to talk to you!” Brodie yells through the door and you turn to go back to your shower. If he thought you wanted to hear a single word out of his mouth then he was gravely mistaken. “God you're such a bitch!”

You take your time getting ready for work, blow drying your hair and putting on your lotion far slower than you ever would regularly. You want to make sure he is gone before you leave the house. At a quarter till 7 you peek out your front curtains. His car is still parked across the street. The same piece of shit Honda he had before. Great.

You leave the house out the back and jump your neighbors fence to cut across the yards to the intersecting street that lead to the deli. You're sure Brodie is going to notice you haven't left the house and he'll come searching for you eventually, figuring out you snuck out the back. You'd deal with that when you came to it.

Surprisingly work goes smoothly for the most of the morning. You don't mention Brodie to Mariel because you know she will hunt him down and probably knife him. She was there for you after the break up and dealt with the fallout with you. She hated Brodie about as much as you did. It's not until lunch that shit hits the fan.

You're in the middle of making an order for the station that Jeremy called in a little after noon when Brodie appears. You've just finished an italian sub and you look up the see Brodie standing there at the counter.

“Hey, come on, hand me the...” Mariel trails off as she turns to see what was taking you so long. “What the fuck do you want?” She sneers, eyes boring a hole through Brodie and into the back wall.

“I need to talk to you,” Brodie says completely disregarding Mariel's existence. “I wanted to talk about-”

“Yeah I really wanna talk to you after you called me a bitch this morning.”

Mariel steps around in front of you and grabs the lettuce knife out of it's holder on the counter. She rests her arm casually up on the top of the countertop window, knife dangling oh so threateningly. “Listen buddy. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd give you a call. You fucked up, you don't get a second chance.”

“Please I just want to apologise. It wasn't me, I wasn't myself back then or at the house today,” he says, leaning to look past Mariel to where you've turned your back to him.

“Fuck off,” Mariel growls. “Or you're going to be the special of the day.”

“I'm not talking to you bitch,” Brodie sneers at her and pushes off the counter, knocking the tip jar to the ground where it shatters. “I'll see you later then,” he says and he slams the door behind him, the bell chiming harshly throughout the deli.

Marel drops the knife in it's holder and puts her arm around you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “Thanks. He showed up at the house this morning but I shut the door on him. I knew he'd be back but I just...I just wasn't ready.”

“No no, it's okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Mare. I hope he gets the hint y'know?”

“Yeah or else.”

_____________

Brodie doesn't get the hint because he's about as thick as an oak door when it comes to reading situations. It's 3pm and you're heading home, watching for Brodie's car as you exit the deli, hand on the pepper spray in your pocket. Not that you think Brodie would try anything but you never know. You're crossing the street toward the fire station when you see him. He's heading toward you on foot as if he had been waiting at the park catty corner to the deli.

You know exactly where to go. The firehouse. All the guys knew you, it would be safer than walking alone with Brodie following you. You keep your eyes locked on the side door to the garage where the trucks are kept. It was always unlocked while the guys were in house. You had delivered sandwiches a few times. You can hear Brodie getting closer, his boots scraping on the pavement behind you.

The door opens just as you get to it and you push past Jeremy, the current station manager. Jeremy mumbles a quiet “What the hell?” But you don't waste time explaining.

Shawn is sitting on one of the old sofas in the living area that is open to the garage and he looks up as you make a bee line for him. He was safe. He would keep Brodie out. You know it. “Hey, what's going on,” he asks and stands up, circling the sofa to meet you.

“I...can you take me home?”

“Yeah, you okay?” Shawn lays his hand on your arm and rubs up to your shoulder. “You look pretty shaken.”

“Was that guy bothering you?” Jeremy asks as he walks into the living area. “I saw him following you and then turn away when you came in.”

You glance over at Jeremy and shake your head. “Yeah, he's nobody. It's fine. I just need a ride.”

“No, was he bothering you?” Shawn asks, stepping past you and heading to the door. “I can go talk to him. No, y'know what, I'm gonna.”

“Shawn don't.” You follow after him but his stride is longer and he is already opening the door. It's half closed by the time you get to it and when you go out you can see Shawn walking across the driveway towards Brodie who's heading back to the park. “Shawn! Stop!”

You jog over just as Shawn reaches Brodie. “Hey, you,” Shawn barks and Brodie turns around.

You grab Shawn's arm and pull him but it's no use. He's far bigger than you in every way. There is no way you can hold him back, he's over six feet of basically pure muscle. His arm flexes under your grip and you can't help but squeeze tighter. “Shawn, please.”

“The fuck do you want dude?” Brodie asks, eyes going to you and then to your hands around Shawn's arm, and finally to Shawn's face.

“You better leave her alone, and stop following girls home.”

Brodie scoffs. “I wasn't following her home. I just need to discuss some private business with her.”

“Yeah, that seems like it would have been a very one sided conversation if she came to the firehouse to get away from you.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway? Her fuckin body guard?”

“Brodie, just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. We're done, it's over. It's been a year, move on dude. I have.” You step back so you're more behind Shawn. For some reason you're very uncomfortable with Brodie. Something about him wasn't right.

Brodie clicks his tongue and lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh I see what this is. He's your boyfriend right? Got yourself a firefighter in case your house burns down again?”

That hurt. Like a punch to the gut. You don't have time to snap back at him because Shawn's arm is pulling away from yours and colliding with his face. The sound is sickening and you're sure Brodie's nose is broken. He drops like a sack of potatoes, crumpling to his knees on the pavement holding his face.

“Let's go,” Shawn says, shaking his hand out and putting his arm around you to walk you away. “I'll drive you home.”

“You hit him, Shawn, you just punched him!”

“Yeah because he was being an asshole. Don't act like you didn't think about doing it yourself.”

You try to look back, not out of concern, but out of curiosity. Shawn turns your head back forwards and keeps walking you toward his truck parked in the stations lot. “Is he going to be okay?”

Shawn shrugs. “Listen,” he stops with you by the passenger side of the truck. “If you wanna go back and see if he's okay, be my guest. Somehow I really don't think you're going to though. Now can you get in the truck so I can take you home?”

You look back and Brodie is still on the ground. Fuck no you weren't going to go over there. He was an asshole and frankly Shawn was right. You had thought about punching him in his stupid face since the day you found him cheating. Yeah your punch probably would not have done nearly as much damage and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't just as gratifying to have Shawn punch him for you. Maybe he'd get the hint now.

Shawn clicks to unlock his truck on his key fob and you open the door to climb up and in. It's really nice, clean inside like it was new and big. Fitting for a guys Shawn's size. Somehow you don't think it's an overcompensation thing. Shawn gets in and starts it up, pulling out of the lot and passing Brodie who is now up and heading toward the park again. You get just barely a glimpse but you could tell his face is a gruesome scene. Suits him. The ugly prick.

Shawn drops you off, walking you up to your door and making sure you get inside okay. You highly doubt that Brodie would come after you for any reason but honestly you couldn't be one hundred percent sure. He seemed to have snapped and lost his mind in the last year.

“You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay a while just in case,” Shawn says leaning against the doorway. “I don't mind.”

“No, it's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me anymore. If he shows up I'll call the cops.”

“Yeah, good idea. But just in case I'll give you my number.”

You raise your eyebrows. He was slick. Just working that number exchange right in there like that. “Alright, okay,” you smile, shaking your head as you pull out your phone and he tells you his number. “I'll text you if I need you.”

“What's your number?” He asks, pulling his own phone out of his cargo pocket.

You shake your head. “I'll text you if I need you. Then you'll get my number.”

Shawn smiles, chuckling just a little. He thought he was slick, well, you were slicker. “Alright then. I see how it is. Well, have a good night. Be safe.”

“Yes sir,” you murmur with a little salute as you grab the door and close it with a goodnight. Letting him in was tempting but you think maybe you oughta have a first date before he gets to see the inside of your place. You'd learned your lesson about diving head first into relationships already.

___________________

Saturday. You're sitting on a bench outside the crab shack waiting for Shawn to show up. It's a calm night, breezy and a little chilly. Enough to warrant a light jacket. You mentally note to ask for a inside table and not one on the deck. The restaurant is fairly busy, Saturday night being a popular date and family night apparently. You're not too surprised though. You used to work weekends bussing tables here in high school for about a year before things went to shit with your house and your dad falling ill.

You sigh, looking up at the big decorative crab that held onto the sign over the front doors. As a kid you always begged your dad to lift you up to touch it. It wasn't until you were eight that you ever actually reached it. How satisfying that day was.

“Hey.”

You turn and look to see who's calling out and you see Shawn walking up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. “Oh, hey, you made it.”

“Of course I did. Whatcha looking at?” He asks, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh nothing. Just the crab. I used to beg my dad to lift me up to touch it.” You chuckle at how ridiculous that sounds now. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Shawn lets you lead the way along the sidewalk and up to the doors. As you approach the doors a pair of hands wrap around your waist and suddenly you're being lifted up. You let out a shriek and you hear Shawn laughing.

“Touch the crab!” He says, hardly audible through his laughter.

You reach out and touch the lowest dangling leg and he brings you down quickly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh you know you wanted to touch the crab.”

You smack his chest and he giggles, jumping back to avoid further assault. “Okay, okay I'll warn you next time.”

“Oh so you think there's gonna be a next time?”

“A guy can hope right?”

“Right,” you roll your eyes and walk into the restaurant, Shawn hot on your heels.

The two of you are seated right away in a booth that had a window out to the deck. You chat a little bit about how the firehouse is pretty slow and Shawn mostly naps all day or works out. The waiter comes and takes your orders. You get a burger with a side salad and Shawn gets the shrimp linguine. He makes fun of you for not getting seafood at the seafood restaurant but it's all in good fun. You both know the burgers are just as killer as the seafood and he really can't blame you.

“So, how'd you end up here?” You ask, sipping on your strawberry lemonade.

“The firehouse was looking to hire on a few guys and I was looking to get a job.”

“So you grew up in Ashland?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I grew up in Benton. I just went to the community college in Ashland.”

“Benton? The farm town?”

“Yeah, my parents are soybean farmers. I am a farm kid,” he chuckles, looking out the window. “What a shocker I know.”

“Not really. You definitely aren't like any of the guys from the city I've ever known. I guess you were probably raised better than a lot of them though.”

“I dunno. I mean my parents instilled a lot of values into me as a kid, but I got into my fair share of trouble and I had my less than graceful moments growing up.”

You shrug. “I think we all have had our moments in our youth, it's whether or not you learn from them and grow up that matters.”

“You're right, that's a good way of putting it. Damn did I learn some hard lessons though. What about you? Are you from here?”

“Yep. Born and raised here. My parents were both bakers, my mom passed away shortly after I was born so I never really knew her.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no it's fine,” you pause, stirring your lemonade. “Cait, my sister, was like a mom to me growing up. Well, as motherly as she could be. She's only five years older.”

“You said your parents were bakers, that's what you like to do too right?”

“Yeah. I have all my dad's recipes and I'd love to have my own place one day but that's a far off dream. For now I just cater small events and I have a Facebook page.”

The food arrives and your conversation slows as you eat but quickly picks back up as you start discussing the food and trying each other's meals. Shawn tells you about the first time he came to the crab shack with the guys from the station. They ordered two crab boils and ate out on the deck on the long party tables. You'd done it once before for Mike’s birthday a few years back.

The night dwindles down and your pack up what's left of your burger and a few of Shawn's shrimps that he saved for you. He pays, refusing to show you the bill and saying don't worry about it even though you insisted on splitting the cost.

Shawn drives you home, walking you to your door like he had done each time he had taken you home before. This time though you don't go inside right away, you linger on the porch.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome, I hope you had fun. I know I did.”

“It was great. And thanks again, y'know for the other day with Brodie.”

Shawn crosses his arms and chuckles, looking down as he kicks the toes of his boots against your doormat. “Of course. Anytime. I don't mind punching a douchebag.”

“Fuck, oh my god no!” You laugh, pushing his shoulder. “I meant thank you for being there for me in general. I don't want you punching people.”

“Right, right. But you kinda liked it, I know you did because you had a little triumphant smile on your face the whole way home afterwards.” He reaches out and pinches your cheek. “Just a cute little smirk right here.”

“Quit it!” You giggle, batting at his arm.

He flattens his hand and cups your jaw, instantly changing the whole mood from playful to intimate. His fingers brush against the nape of your neck, thumb smoothing over the little chicken pox scar on your cheek from when you were very little. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, stepping closer so there's but a few inches between you.

“You're not too bad yourself.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Shawn asks, eyes heavy on your lips.

You give a little nod and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours and he caresses the back of your head. It's easily the tenderest kiss you've ever received and it leaves you a little speechless.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You nod numbly, the feeling of his lips lingering as he steps off the porch. He crosses the yard and gets into his truck. You're left there, nerves memorizing the feel of his hand in your hair, his palm on your cheek, his lips on your lips. You never want to snap out of it, you want to stay like this forever.

______________________

For the next few days Shawn stops in for meals for the firehouse. He always chats a bit, making you giggle and flush. Mariel loves to tease you endlessly when he leaves but you can't care because he makes you so happy. Shawn hasn't mentioned a second date yet and you don't want to bring it up in case he doesn't want to, though you're sure he does. You suspect he may be giving you space after the Brodie incident.

You have an event to cater on Thursday. A baby shower in town for your ex coworker Cara. She has asked for three dozen baby boot shaped cookies in blue icing and a small cake with blue iced middle an a white outside. A classic gender reveal cake. You start work on Tuesday so you can be ready to go on Wednesday evening. It's a fairly simple order.

Thursday after work you head to the party, driving Mariel's car to transport the baked goods safely. You arrive and the mother to be, Cara, is elated with the cookies and cake. She helps you set up the cake on a stand and get the cookies into a little box she had on hand to keep them a secret until the reveal.

You're on the deck outback talking to an old friend from high school when you hear a familiar voice. Shawn. You turn and look through a small crowd of people and see him, towering over everyone by the sliding glass doors. He is hugging Cara, and holds up a little bag with a bow on it. So he knows Cara, small world.

“Hey you,” Shawn grins, catching your eye and walking over after greeting Cara. “What're you doing here?”

“I could ask the same.”

“Cara is my cousin.”

“Ohh. I know her because she used to work at the deli. Wow such a small world.”

Shawn chuckles. “Very small. Can I get you a drink?”

“I'm good. Thanks though. How's work been? I know you said you had a call on Monday and that's why you didn't come in for lunch.”

“Yeah, it wasn't much. Just some punk kids setting fire in a trash can at the high school. Everything was fine.” Shawn follows you as you walk into the house because Cara is gathering everyone around for cake and cookies before starting the baby shower games. “How bout you?”

“Usual, work and then going home.”

“No word from Brodie?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. I think he got the message to leave me alone.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen while everyone gathers around Cara at the table in the attached dining area. “Have you been keeping your distance because of Brodie?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I've been keeping my distance?”

You shrug.

“Is this because I haven't asked you out again? Because Brodie has nothing to do with that. I promise I want to go out again but I've been covering Ryan's over nights at the station. His wife is sick and I volunteered to help him out.”

“You've been working twenty four hours?”

“More like seventy two hours almost. I got this evening off since Ryan wasn't scheduled.”

“You are gonna crash. I know you can take naps at the station but still, it's not good sleep.” You lay your hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll get some rest tonight?”

“I promise I will. Are you free Friday night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Meet me at the station around eight?”

You raise your eyebrows and he looks away as the group around the table cheer in congratulations for Cara. James, Cara's husband, calls Shawn over and he walks away to give Cara a hug and congratulate her as well. You watch as he snags a cookie from the box on the table and grins at you, holding it up before taking big bite while James talks to him about something. You roll your eyes. You were definitely going to go on the date with him, even if it was just hanging out at the firehouse. You liked Shawn that much, you could just watch TV with him. Damn. He was getting to you.

_____________

Friday night. You have no idea what to expect as you walk up to the firehouse. Shawn's truck is in the lot and so is Jeremy and Max's. Three meant that was the whole overnight crew. Had Shawn forgotten about your date? You open the side door of the firehouse and walk into the darkened garage toward the living area. It's quiet, no one around and you can feel your heart sink.

“Hey, you're early,” Shawn says, appearing from a doorway to your right. “I was just coming to meet you outside.”

“Oh, are we leaving? Aren't you on the night shift?”

Shawn chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. His shirt strains across his chest and you can't help but bite your lip. “I am on the night shift. I hoped we could stay in and have our date here?”

“Here? But aren't the guys here?”

“They're asleep in the bunks upstairs. I promise we won't be bothered.”

“And what are we doing?”

“Well,” Shawn steps back through the doorway and you follow him. He leads you into the small station kitchen and you can see all the basics for baking laid out on the counter tops. “I thought maybe we could bake together. Or more of you teach me how to bake.”

You grin. A baking date might just be the best thing you'd ever heard of. Shawn was truly a man after your heart. You circle around the center island and touch the bag of flour, chocolate chips, sugar and mini cupcake liners. “So do you want cupcakes or muffins?”

Shawn walks around to meet you and he's holding two aprons in his hand. “Muffins. They're my favorite cheat day food.”

You slide the apron on over your head and look down. It has a little muffin picture glued on to a felt heart. It's cute and you're pretty sure it's hand made. “Did you make this?” You giggle, smoothing your hand over the front of yourself.

“I did. I thought it was cute and you'd like it.” Shawn puts his apron on and his has a matching design. “Now, how bout those muffins?”

Shawn doesn't pay attention to half of what you say as you make the muffins. He tries so hard, he really does and you can tell. His focus is mostly on you, telling you how cute you are and how you're so good at this because you can do it without a recipe.

Every time you ask for him to measure something for you he asks what cup that is. You're pretty sure he has never baked a day in his life let alone used a measuring cup or measuring spoons. How he survived this long you'll never know.

“Shawn, have you not cooked before?” You ask with a giggle as you swat his hand away from the chocolate chips you're measuring.

“I cook all the time. I just don't bake. I don't measure anything other than rice or like liquids.” He leans against your back and tries to sneak his hand around to steal chips. He thinks he's slick. “Let me have some!”

“No!” You giggle and jerk the cup of chips away from his hand. You end up spilling them mostly in the bowl. “Oh you better stop.”

“Or what?” He asks against your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

“I won't make your muffins.”

Shawn's hands slide around your front and up your stomach. “Just one chocolate chip. Just a little tiny one.”

“Fine.” You grab exactly one chocolate chip and hold it up.

He leans over, pressing you into the counter with his chest and waist slotted firmly against your back. He closes his mouth around your fingers and takes the chip. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your ear, kissing it tenderly.

“You're welcome,” you whisper though you're very much alone in the kitchen with him.

Shawn pulls away, turning to grab the muffin tins off the island counter and the tension is broken just like that. He oils the pans just like you reminded him to earlier because the liners he bought were for a mini pan and he had a regular size pan. You can't help but watch as he carefully wipes each cup with an oiled paper towel, deliberately coating every inch of the metal. Something about him being so focused, so interested in baking, makes your heart flutter.

You turn your focus back to the batter. There was no time to be getting caught up in your feelings yet. This was only the second date. “Are you ready for the batter?”

“Yes ma'am,” Shawn grins, holding up his oiled pan. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I promise I won't make you eat muffins that are scraped out of the tin.”

“I mean I'd still enjoy them, but yeah it's a little easier when they're whole.”

“Okay, put them in the oven for twenty minutes and then we'll be set.”

Shawn carries the pan to the preheated oven and puts it in. “So, what do we want to do while these cook?” He grabs a handful of chocolate chips off the bowl on the counter and shoves it in his mouth. “We have movies.”

“You don't have a plan?”

“Well...ah...” He rubs his neck. “I suck at planning?”

“Obviously.” You walk towards him, hand raised to wipe a smear of chocolate chip on his lip. “You got some chocolate. Hold still.” You wipe it with your thumb but it just smears it. You can't help but stare at his soft pink plush looking lips. They're so kissable, so not chapped and ready for you to lean in and taste.

“Did you get it?”

“Quit talking.” You try again and it almost all comes off. “Hold still there's a little bit left.”

Shawn raises his arm and wipes it on his hand. “Better?”

“Worse!” You let out a laugh and he looks helpless. “I think you had some on your hand!”

“You're gonna have to lick it off.”

“Oh no I'm not.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, backing you against the island. “So you don't want to kiss me? That's not why you were staring at my lips, mouth parting, tongue peaking out to wet them...”

“Shut up.” You lean up and kiss him, licking the chocolate off his lip and smiling in the process. His lips were just as sweet and soft as you imagined.

Shawn brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Knew you wanted to.”

“You talk too much.”

Shawn grins and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss grows heated and intense. His hand find your hips, yours find his hair and back. You lick into his mouth and he responds just as eagerly.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear someone walk in. You don't even know they're there until you hear, “In the kitchen? Come on.”

Shawn turns his head, eyeing the intruder. You look too, cheeks hot with embarrassment. In the doorway is Jeremy.

“I don't want to know. I just want a water bottle and one of whatever you're making when they're done.”

“Of course, yeah,” you say with a nervous little laugh.

Jeremy grabs his water and mutters something about damn kids these days. As soon as he's out of sight you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

“They were asleep, I promise.” Shawn pleads. “I'm sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It's okay, I'm not that embarrassed. We were just kissing. But since he is up now, maybe we should keep it a little more low key?”

“Yeah,” Shawn chuckles. “I'll grab some cards if you're up for a few games?”

“Sure.”  

The rest of the night you and Shawn play cards in the kitchen, eat muffins and just talk about all sorts of stuff. He asks about Brodie but you're not too keen on rehashing that past quite yet. You ask him about his parents and what they think of him becoming a firefighter and not taking over the farm. They're actually very proud of him and never expected him to work the farm if he wasn't interested. They were very supportive of him. The night winds down and you're stuffed with enough muffins and decaf coffee to gain a few pounds. Shawn offers to take you home and you accept, taking one last muffin for the road.

________________

“So what's new?” You ask Cait as you walk around your room looking for something to wear on another date with Shawn this coming weekend. He had stopped by the deli on Monday and asked you to go to the beach with him.

“Oh not much, just bedridden and seriously fat,” Cait laughs.

“Oh quit it. You're not fat. The baby is probably fat.”

“You're right on that one. Adam is a big guy, I'd be shocked if this baby was less than seven or eight pounds.”

“So you're due any day huh?”

Cait shuffles around and you're pretty sure she drop the phone for a second. “Any day now. I insisted on not being admitted early because of the bills. I'm beginning to regret that though. This little bugger is killing my back.”

“I bet. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not yet. We're torn between Nathaniel and Andrew.”

You put your phone on speaker and grab a dress out of your closet. It's a nice simple black A-line. Maybe not too beachy. “Why not use one as a middle name?”

“I'm using dad's name for his middle name. Besides, I'm partial on Nathaniel. It works best with dad's name.”

“You're right. Definitely go with Nathaniel.”

“Duely noted. What about you? How has things been with the firefighter guy?”

You smile to yourself. Was perfect enough of a descriptor? An absolute dream? No. You sound crazy. Shawn was nice and good but he wasn't quite prince charming. Yet. “It's going really well. We have another date this weekend.”

“I Facebook stalked him, he seems like a real genuine guy. What does he like?”

“He likes books and food. I know he likes working out and he definitely has a soft spot for dogs I think. Every time Mr. Peter's walks his dog by the deli, Shawn stares like he wants to pet him so badly.”

Cait laughs. “If he pets that dog he will lose a hand! Remember when it chased us home from the park one time?”

“Oh my God I forgot about that. Damn that dog is old as hell.”

“Probably a real hellhound if you ask me.”

“Cait! Be nice.”

Cait scoffs. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Shawn sounds like a good guy. I hope he works out for you, God knows you need it.”

“Are you saying I'm hopeless?”

“Your usual taste in men could be better.”

You roll your eyes as you reach for your next dress in the closet. Too fancy for the beach. Jeans and a tee were looking to be the best option right now.

“Are you still planning on coming to the hospital with me?” Cait asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Of course. Mike knows when I get the text from you that I need to go.”

“Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I'm gonna hang up now though, I have to pee and I think I need a snack. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too sis. Bye.”

_________________

It's just before midnight when you wake up to the smell of smoke. It's all too familiar and strikes a deep fear into you immediately. You jump out of bed and look around, there is no smoke in the house. For a split second you think it must be a nightmare, your brain playing tricks on you. Wouldn't be the first time.

You circle your house, taking a walk from your bedroom to the living room and ending in the kitchen. That's when you smell it again. The unmistakable smell of burning. It's coming from the open window in the kitchen. You turn and look to the front door, sure enough there are lights flashing, blurry from your curtains. The sound of sirens suddenly blaring in your ears.

You grab your robe and pull it on, heading for the front door to see what is on fire and where. The moment you step outside it's apparent where the smoke is coming from. One house down in your row of houses, there is black clouds billowing from the front window. The other neighbors are all in their front yards too and four of the firefighters are approaching the house.

One of the crew pulls away and starts jogging across the yards toward you. He pulls his helmet off and you see it's Shawn. In seconds he wraps his arms around you, the bulky gear rough against your exposed skin.

“Oh thank God it's not you.” He says desperately as he squeezes you tighter, face in your hair.  

“What's going on? Of course I'm okay.”

“I saw the address and my stomach sank. I thought you were in danger, I thought I was going to lose you.” He pulls back and cups your face with his gloved hands. “But you're okay.”

You hold his arms and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Yes I'm fine. Go do your job.”

Shawn looks back and two of the guys are walking out of the house carrying fire extinguishers. The owner, an elderly lady, is sitting in her lawn chair just shaking her head. “I think they've got it handled.”

You cup Shawn's cheek and he looks back to you. “Go. I'm fine.”

“Yeah...you're right. You're sure though? Are you feeling okay? I know the fire probably stresses you out.”

“I'm fine. The panic has passed. As much as I'd love to keep you as my emotional support firefighter, I'm sure Jeremy probably wants you with them.”

Shawn chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Tell your neighbors not to scare me half to death again. I dunno if my heart can take it.”

“I'll be sure to do that. Go on,” you shoo him away and he walks backwards, hand in yours until your arm is stretched out to just your fingertips touching.

“Good night,” Shawn says and you let your fingertips slip from his glove.

“Good night Shawn.” You grin and wrap your robe tight around yourself as you head inside to get some sleep.

________________

“Order up!” Mariel yells, passing you a sandwich to ring up.

You punch in the cost and turn to grab a bag of chips from the rack behind you. Your phone buzzes on the shelf under the counter and you spare a glance, obviously too busy to pick it up. It was probably just a telemarketer anyway. Or maybe Shawn making plans since your date the weekend before was amazing. You had taken him for sushi in Ashland and he loved it.

“Alright, that's ten dollars. Would like to add any extras today? A cookie or a drink?” you ask and the customer shakes his head and slides his card.

Your phone buzzes again and this time Mariel steps in and says you should answer it. You grab it and walk over to the side counter. The screen shows an unknown number and you roll your eyes before clicking answer. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God, it's Adam. I'm at the hospital with Cait. Something happened and I can't explain. She's okay but we need you here. She is freaking out.”

“Adam what happened? Is she in labor? What's going on?” You ask frantically, already pulling your apron off as you head for the front door. You glance back at Mariel and she just waves you off. “Adam, what is going on?”

“Cait fell, I don't know how. She called she was taken in an ambulance. They said she is okay but they're doing an ultrasound now. I have to hurry up, I'm using a pay phone outside and I'm out of change. We're at Berkin Ho-” The phone cuts off and the line beeps.

Your stomach churns. You have no idea how you're going to get to Berkin hospital. It's over half an hour drive and you're not really up for trying to find a car and drive there. You pull up the cab services number and as you hit dial, you see Shawn walk out of the firehouse and unlock his truck.

“Shawn,” you mutter desperately. You jog across the street and he looks up with a smile when he sees you. “Shawn, can you take me to Berkin Hospital? Please I'll give you anything you want, I'll owe you a thousand muffins. Please.”

“Whoa hey are you okay?” He asks, circling the front of the truck to hold your arms, eyes scanning you for injury. “What happened?”

“It's not me. It's my sister. She's pregnant...she fell or something I don't know,” you're sobbing, body shaking like a leaf. “Her husband called from a pay phone and he sounded scared and he said Cait is freaking out.”

Shawn pulls you into a quick hug. “Let's go, you need to be there.”

________________

By the time you get to the hospital Cait has just been taken in for a C-section. Adam is in the hall beyond the emergency waiting area and he comes out to explain what happened. He says that Cait said she was going to the kitchen for water when Boo, their cat, got under her feet and she fell backwards onto her butt. Her water broke and she called emergency services, and then him in the ambulance. The doctor recommended a C-section because he is afraid of something having happened in the fall, the baby getting jarred a little harshly, and he doesn't want to wait until Cait is fully dilated in the event there is injury. Cait agreed and decided to have a C-section now, but they're in prep and waiting for her doctor to show up.

You turn to Shawn as Adam walks back through the door to the emergency wing, intending for you to follow him. “You can go home. I'm okay, thanks for bringing me.”

“Can I stay? I really don't have anything going on at home and you look like you could use some company.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Come on.” You lead Shawn through the doors and into the small room where Adam is sitting. “Hey, Adam. Do you mind if Shawn stays?”

Adam looks up from his phone. His eyes are red, he's been crying and you can just now see it in the bright lights of the sterile room. “No, that's fine. He's your boyfriend right? Cait told me you were seeing someone.”

“Ah, yeah. He's my,” you glance over to Shawn and he's trying to hide a smile but failing. “He's my friend. We've gone out a few times. It's whatever.”

Adam looks between the two of you with a half smile. “Me and Cait were just friends too.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, shoving Adam. “Hey, I thought your phone was dead.”

Adam holds it up on a bright purple cord that attached to a wall charger. “One of the nurses got a cord from a lady up in the ICU for me.”

“Oh, that's good.” You look around the small room and lean against the wall awkwardly. There was only one guest chair and Adam was sitting in it.

Shawn picks up on the situation and clears his throat. “Anyone want some food? I can swing by the cafeteria while we wait.”

“No thanks man. I'm not hungry, too nervous,” Adam says and turns back to his phone.

You nod, knowing Shawn probably hasn't eaten in a while. “Yeah, I should eat something. I don't feel like it really but I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Shawn puts his arm around you and leads you into the hall. “I know my way around here pretty well, and I have a discount at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah? Work brings you here?”

“Not always,” Shawn chuckles. “Not always.”

________________

Shawn tells you to get whatever you want as he stands in line at the hot bar. You look around at the selection on the soup and salad bar and decide to just get a small salad and crackers. You meet up with Shawn at the register and he has a tray loaded with food. He shows some sort of ID badge and the cashier scans it before he pays.

“So firefighters get a discount here?” You ask as you dress your salad. “Or are you just special?”

Shawn chuckles. “All emergency service personnel gets a discount here. But I am special too.”

You roll your eyes. “Special huh?”

“Yeah, I was admitted here as a kid. I spent like three weeks in the ICU while they figured out what was wrong with me. Turned out my appendix had attached itself to my muscle tissue and was inflamed to nearly ten times it's size.”

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Shawn chuckles over a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah of course. The appendix is pointless anyway, but it was hell for the doctors to get it off the muscle wall without it bursting. I've got a scar now but it's not too bad.”

“Damn. You're lucky then I guess.”

“Very lucky. Wanna see the scar?” Shawn stands up and tugs his shirt up for you to see. It's pale pink, about the length of your index finger and right along the V of his hip to his lower stomach. “It's faded a lot now.”

“That's big. Did they take any of the muscle with it?”

Shawn plops back down and sticks some fries in his mouth, shaking his head. “Nah. The doctor was really good. But anyway, how about you? Any crazy medical stories?”

“No,” you laugh softly. “I was a healthy non reckless kid.”

“That's no fun. No broken bones? Toys stuck where they shouldn't be?”

“No, oh my God. My dad kept an eye on me and so did Cait.” You push your salad around on the plate, momentarily lost in thought. “Cait is gonna be a good mom.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. I'm glad her and Adam finally got pregnant. They've been trying for ages. She deserves it y'know? After all we've been through, she deserves a happy ending.”

Shawn bumps his water bottle against yours and you look up from where you've spaced out, staring into the depths of your salad bowl. “You deserve it too. Don't forget that.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Yeah I guess so.”

________________

You and Shawn talk a little longer, mostly about family stuff and some crazy childhood stories. Most of his make you wonder how he's even alive still, but you conclude he must just be extremely lucky. Adam texts you and says the doctors are taking Cait to a room to recover and he gives you the floor and room number. You and Shawn wrap up and head for the elevators to get upstairs. Cait would want to see you no doubt.

“So do they know what the gender is yet?” Shawn asks as he leans forward, holding the door open for a nurse who was jogging to catch it.

“Yeah, it's a boy. I just hope they settled on a name.”

“Shawn?” The nurse asks as the doors close softly.

“Uh yeah?” Shawn tilts his head, looking her over as if trying to figure out how she knew his name.

“Darcy, from the emergency responders luncheon two years ago?” The nurse says, grinning.

Shawn shakes his head. “I'm sorry, I don't recall. Did we sit together or...”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

You give Shawn a look and he just kinda deadpans.

“I'm really sorry. I must have been out of it.”

Darcy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah obviously. You'd had a few but I didn't think you were smashed enough to forget me.”

Shawn turns scarlet. His eyes go wide and you have a feeling he remembers exactly who Darcy is now. He remains silent until her floor dings and she gets off, leaving you with Shawn alone in an awkward silence.

“She sounded upset. What was that about?”

“Listen, I was a jerk a few years ago. Brand new firefighter with cockiness to spare. Believe me. I was a douchebag. She probably should have slapped me.”

You let out a low whistle as the doors open on your floor and the two of you step out. “So I should be careful huh?”

“I grew up. I promise.”

“Mmhmm.”

You get to Cait's room and she is overjoyed to see you. The baby is sleeping on her chest, so small and fragile, only five pounds she says. His name is Nathaniel. You introduce Shawn and explain that he brought you to the hospital, and he's the one that you'd told her about on the phone. Cait plays it off like she didn't recognize him immediately from her Facebook creeping. After a while of visiting you get to hold the baby while Cait rests.

Shawn looks like he's going to die when you glance over to where he's sitting in one of the guest chairs. He just stares at you while you're cuddling this little tiny bundle of baby and blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You grin and he looks terrified.

“I don't know. I probably shouldn't.”

You stand and walk over to where Shawn is sitting and you carefully pass Nathaniel to him. He cuddles him against his chest awkwardly, arms huge in comparison. “It's not too hard. See, he fits right in your arm there.”

“He's so small.” Shawn boops the baby's nose. “I always wanted kids one day. But when they're this tiny I'm nervous I'll break them.”

“They're more resilient than you might think.”

Shawn pets back Nathaniel's little bit of sparse dark hair. He looks so soft, so natural holding a baby like this. It makes you smile, and gives you a strange butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Shawn with kids is a little too much for you to dream of but you'd be damned if you weren't.

“You're still here?” Cait asks sleepily from the bed.

“Yeah, Adam is on his way back now. I figured we would stay until he got here.”

As if on cue, Adam walks in with Cait's over night bag. You help Shawn put Nathaniel into his bassinet and give Cait a hug. You say your goodbyes and promise to visit as soon as she's is home and feeling up to visitors. Shawn drives you home, leaving you with a chaste kiss and plans to meet up after work tomorrow evening.

________________

It is just after four in the afternoon a week later and you sit outside the deli waiting for Shawn to get off work. You check your phone, scrolling through social media and chatting with some people who messaged you. Before you know it half an hour has passed and still Shawn hasn't come out of the firehouse. You don't want to seem like that annoying girl but he made plans and wasn't even replying to your texts.

You cross the street and knock on the door. No answer. You try the handle and it's locked. They must be out on a call. You feel kinda bad now, not even thinking about the possibility of him actually working late. You had just gotten used to them not getting called out very much recently.

You decide to walk home, maybe stop by the minimart on the way to grab some snacks. There was no telling when Shawn would be available or if he would even feel like hanging out after a call. It's fine, you would just talk to him tomorrow.

The minimart bell dings and you raise a hand in greeting to Mae, the old woman behind the counter. She greets you with a smile. You grab a few things, a small pint of chocolate ice cream, a Snickers bar and a bag of chips.

“Bad day?” Mae asks, ringing up your purchases.

“No, just wanted a few snacks.” You glance over at her little tv that is showing a newscast from a reporter in a field. There is a massive blaze behind him and he keeps glancing back warily.

“That's sad isn't it?” Mae asks, looking back at the TV. “They said the drivers of both vehicles are dead and the explosion hurt some of the emergency responders trying to get them out.”

Your stomach sinks. Shawn was probably out there. “Oh my God. What happened? Where is it at?”

“Tanker truck hit an SUV I think. It's just off route 45 to Benton I think. Probably a truck coming to fill up the tanks at the Phillips station.”

“I-I have to go.” You leave your items on the counter and take off running for the deli.

The door clatters loudly as you rush in the deli and up to the counter. The few people in the dining area give you worried looks as you lean over the counter.

Mariel comes out of the back area and sees you, her face falling immediately. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“There's an explosion and a crash on 45. I need your keys I need to get there now. Shawn could be there.”

Mariel digs in her apron pocket and hands you her keys. “Be careful.”

Ten agonizing minutes later and you pull Mariel's little blue car over off the side of the highway and leave it in favor of walking the last few hundred feet. The tanker is still on fire, both fire engines are parked off to the side, no hydrants are available for water this far out on the highway. You look around for any of the firefighters, desperate to find out if Shawn is there.

“Ma'am, you can't be here!” An officer yells as you walk past the news crews who are waiting for more details.

You ignore him, your sights set on a group of firemen standing by an ambulance. Your heart is pounding, none of them look tall enough to be Shawn.

Another officer cuts you of, holding up their hand to stop you from getting at closer. “Ma'am you need to go back to your car. No bystanders are allowed near the wreck.”

“I'm not going to the wreck I'm going to the ambulance over there,” you say, pointing to the ambulance that's getting ready to leave.

“No you're not. You need to leave.”

“Sir you don't understand, I need to-”

The officer steps forward as you start to try and pass him. “Ma'am, I'm not going to tell you again. Go back to you vehicle and leave.”

“Jeremy! Ryan!” You shout and the officer says something but you can't hear him. He grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “JEREMY! JEREMY!”

Jeremy turns around and sees you being pulled away by the officer. He comes walking over, calling the officer off as he approaches. “What are you doing here? This is a dangerous situation.”

“Where is Shawn? Is he here? I saw on the news that some people got hurt trying to rescue the drivers.”

“Shawn will be okay. I need you to leave. I'll call you as soon as I can with more information.”

“Oh my God,” you start trembling, stomach churning. “Ohmygod he's in the ambulance isn't he?”

Jeremy puts his hand on your arm and you lean against him. He pulls you into a hug, hand on the back of your head as you let out a heavy sob. “He will be fine. He's strong, he knows the dangers of his job. Please, you need to go home. There is nothing here for you.”

You don't go home. You go to the hospital and wait in the ER lobby for two hours. Two agonizing hours. The receptionist won't tell you anything, she doesn't know anything actually. She says she will let you know when he is allowed visitors. You text Mariel that you have the car and you're at Birkin Hospital. She says she walked home and it's fine that she understands.

You're curled up across two hard seats, half asleep when the receptionist says that Shawn is allowed to have visitors. You grab your purse and push through the automatic doors as they open slowly to the ER rooms. You turn down the hall to room 042 and push the door open and your heart stops.

Shawn is asleep, chest rising and falling softly. He has an oxygen tube in his nose and he's hooked up two a few monitors and an IV drip. He's in a white hospital gown. His face is mostly clean, a few remnants of blood and what looks like mud on his chin. You just stare, tears burning your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. You take a shaky step forward and grab a couple paper towels and wet them in the small wash sink to the right of his bed.

“Jesus Christ what were they doing for two hours?” You wipe at his face, clearing off a smudge of blood from his cheek. It's then you notice his arm is in a white plaster cast and there is tape and gauze sticking out from under the collar of his gown.

The door opens and a nurse walks in. “Oh, hello. I'm Shona. I'm the nurse on rounds for tonight.”

You introduce yourself, lying that you're his fiance just in case she doesn't release any information to you.  You watch as she administers a syringe of something into his IV drip. “What is that?”

“Morphine. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“What happened? I mean, what took two hours? I know what happened, like the accident.”

Shona grabs a chart on the wall beside the bed and flips it up. “Fractured arm, multiple lacerations to the chest and stomach. Bruised ribs.” She scans down the chart. “Looks like he was on oxygen and being monitored for smoke inhalation and potential internal bleeding for a few hours. The bleeding was negative. That's what took so long it seems.”

“Jesus Christ Shawn.” You ball the paper towel up in your hand and take a seat in the guest chair.

“If you need anything or if he wakes up, let me know. Just press the nurse button and I'll come see how he's doing.”

You nod and Shona leaves the room. You don't care how long it is, you're going to stay until he wakes up.

Jeremy shows up a little while later. He talks to the nurse, getting a run down of Shawn's condition. The two of you talk briefly and and says to text him when Shawn wakes up. Let him know if he wants visitors or if he's going to be admitted. You promise that you'll keep him updated.

________________

“What're you doing here?”

You sit up from where you've passed out across the two hard plastic chairs. It's almost midnight according to the clock on the wall. On the bed Shawn is sitting up right, well, propped more upright with the help of the bed.

“You're awake!”

“Yeah. I just woke up, what happened? Why are you here?”

You stand and go over to the side of the bed. He grabs your hand and holds it in his. “I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think the tanker exploded and you must have been knocked back? You're pretty beat up.”

“Fuck.” Shawn closes his eyes and licks his lip. “I knew I shouldn't have gone into try and help the truck driver. He was already fucking gone.”

“Shawn, it's okay. You were doing your job.”

“I was being an idiot. I know better than to try and go into a situation like that. I could have died.”

You lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you. “You didn't die. You're fine, a little rough, but you're fine. Stop beating yourself up.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes tearing up. “You should be at home, sleeping and angry I stood you up. Why are you sitting in a crappy ER room with me?”  

“I'm here because I saw the news and I just knew something had happened. I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt and I had to get to you.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb. “I’ve been here since they brought you in. Jeremy came by but he didn't want to hang out too long. I gotta let him know you're awake.”

“How did you know they brought me here?”

“I followed the ambulance. Shawn, I drove to the accident because I was freaking out. I almost got arrested for resisting an officer just to get closer to find out where you were.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “You are the craziest woman I know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“God I love you.”

“Shawn, you better just stop talking. It sounds like the morphine is making you a little loopy.” You grab the bed remote and press the nurse button. You pull your hand from Shawn's and he pouts, eyeing you from across the room as Shona comes in and starts taking vitals and asking how he feels.

You excuse yourself to the hall so you can call Jeremy. Really it's because Shawn's words just gave you a heart attack and you're pretty sure if he kept talking you'd go into cardiac arrest.

________________

Six hours later and Shawn is released. Jeremy had stopped by with a change of clothes for him from the firehouse. You had tried to get him to call his parents, to let them know what happened, but he said he wasn't ready. The doctor said he shouldn't be left alone, that it would be best if you or someone stayed with him over night just in case but all his vitals were normal and other than bruising and the broken arm, he was in amazing condition. He was lucky.

The drive home is quiet. You swing by the 24 hour pharmacy on the way out of town to get the pain medication that the doctor prescribed. Shawn waits in the car. You grab some snacks and a couple of reusable hot/cold compresses. You're sure he will need them.

You help Shawn into the house and he insists on sleeping on the couch but you know that is not what he needs. You don't mind taking the couch for a few days or even weeks. However long Shawn needed to stay with you was okay. It takes a lot of convincing but he eventually agrees to sleep in your bed propped up.  

“You don't have to do this,” he says for the dozenth time since you left the hospital. “I'll be alright.”

“Shawn, I'm not going to leave you at your place alone. The doctor said to monitor you and that's what I'm going to do.”

He's quiet, just like every time he tried to get you to leave him before. You don't know what he's getting at by telling you the same thing. You're also not sure, but it could be a side effect of the pain medicines making him a little loopy and forgetful. “You're amazing.”

You fluff a blanket out across his lap and shake your head. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. A thousand times over I would.”

You lean forward to grab a pillow and he grabs your hand, stopping you halfway. You look down at his scraped up knuckles against your soft skin. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes finding yours. “I’m sorry I scared you and put you through this.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “You we're doing your job. I know what dangers come with being a fireman. I know what I signed up for.”

Shawn cracks a soft smile. His tired face looking far more gorgeous than it should right now. “You say that like we're a couple.” His eyes are glassy and you want to discuss relationships and feelings right now but somehow you know it's not going to do any good. His medicine was knocking him out and he was getting loose lipped. You don't feel right talking about something serious while he basically has no inhibitions.

“Get some rest,” you say, pulling your hand from his and cupping his cheek. “I'll be in the living room and you can just holler if you need anything.”

“Yes ma'am.” He hums and leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. You move around the room quietly, picking up a few things before leaving him be and by the time you finish he is passed out, soft snores filling the room. You give him one last look from the doorway and sigh softly. You were definitely gone for him and you don't mind one bit.

________________

The next few days Shawn's spends mostly in bed. He doesn't go out, just hangs out at your house while you go to work. The guys from the fire station stop by the deli and ask about him, you tell them he's doing alright. Which he is. He just seems a little shaken up still, like it's really hitting him that he could have died. Jeremy brought you his keys and spare clothes from the station to take home with you so he would have some things to wear.

It's Wednesday and you wake up stiff from sleeping on the couch again. It's your day off and you plan on trying to get Shawn to go visit the guys at the station. You sit up and Shawn is standing in the kitchen trying to break eggs into a bowl with one hand. He's getting visibly annoyed and you climb off the couch to go help.

“Shawn, let me do it,” you say softly as you approach him and see three shattered eggs in a bowl.

He sighs heavily, stepping aside to let you take over. “I hate this.”

“I know.” You fold the carton closed and turn the stove off. “We're going to go out for breakfast. You've been cooped up here for days, it's time to go out.”

Shawn grumbles. “I don't want to go out.”

“Too bad. You're becoming a grumpy old man. And you owe me a date.”

“I do,” he sighs softly. “Okay, you got me. I'll get dressed.”

Half an hour later and you are walking together along the beach and you're feeding him bites of a muffin. The two of you opted to get some blueberry muffins and coffee from the cafe to go.

“I'm really sorry,” he says as you head for the underside of the pier that was attached to the deck of the crab shack

“For what?”

“For putting you through this kind of stress. I was reckless and I got myself hurt.”

You finish off the bit of muffin in your hand and shake your head at him. “I mean, I know what risks a firefighter has to take. I know you're going to get hurt. I don't like it, and yeah, you were reckless and you could have died. But you didn't.”

“I don't even have anything to show for it. I didn't save the truck driver.”

“Hey,” you grab his hand and he threads his fingers through yours. “You have your life to show for it. I'm not angry at you, I'm not even disappointed. I'm glad you're alive and barely hurt.”

Shawn drops your hand and sits down in the sand. You sit beside him and the water washes up over your toes. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because I like you. You're an amazing guy and you're sweet. You're everything I've ever dreamed of in a guy. How could I not care?”

He shrugs. “I guess I've never felt that sort of thing from anyone I've dated. We hit it off so fast, I was actually really nervous I was going to fuck everything up.”

“Well you didn't.” You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder. “You actually did quite the opposite.”

“I did everything right?”

You nod.

He grabs your hand and plays with it. His knuckles are scrapped up, red and a little bruised. He measures your hand against his, palms together before bringing it up to kiss softly.

“Can I ask you something really cheesy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laugh softly. Before you met him, you probably would have said no. But there was something about Shawn that changed everything for you. Something that made you feel like you couldn't get enough of him. Something that made you wanna go all in and not stop.

“I think I do.”

________________

Six months later

“Hey hot stuff,” Shawn purrs, hands on your waist pulling you back against him. “Is this my shirt?”

You let out a squeal and drop the spatula you are using to stir your scrambled eggs. “Yes it is. What are you doing scaring me like that?” You laugh, leaning your head back against him.

“Notice anything different?” He wiggles his fingers against your sides. You don't feel the familiar hard edge of his cast pushing against your skin.

“Your cast is gone!”

He turns you around and holds his hands up. The blue plaster cast is totally gone. You put your hand in his and he squeezes gently. “It's going to be weak for a while, but I have stretches and stuff to do to build the strength back up. The doc said my bones looks good and the muscles should bounce back in no time since I did the exercising with my fingers with the cast on.”

“I'm so happy. You'll be able to do more than just in house work at the station. I know between that and hanging around here you were getting a little stir crazy.”

Shawn grabs your hips and lifts you up on the counter top so you're just a hair taller than him. He steps between your legs and bumps his nose against yours. “The only thing that makes me crazy is you.”

“Mmm,” you lean in for a kiss and he kisses you slow and drawn out for just a lingering moment. “This is very sexy and all, but you probably shouldn't be lifting me quite yet.” You lay your hand over his forearm and he makes a noise of protest as he bumps his nose against yours for another kiss. “I'm serious Shawn.”

“I know.” He pulls back, looking at you softly. “I got excited. I haven't been able to do what I want for a while.” He grips the swells of your hips and grins. “Couldn’t hold you like I wanted to.”

“Shawn,” you flush and he gives you bedroom eyes. “Later.” You reach over and pull your pan off the burner so your eggs don't over cook any more.

Shawn looks over and steps back so you can get down and finish making your breakfast. “I'm just saying, my station tee would look really good on the floor of the bedroom right now.”

You turn and point your spatula at him. “And I'm just saying, it sounds like you need to take a cold shower and calm that fire in your pants, hot stuff.”

Shawn just groans and turns away, going to the bathroom. You hear the shower come on and you just laugh, sitting down to eat your breakfast.

________________

“Are you still interested in the old antique shop next to the deli?” Shawn asks one day over lunch. You're sat together in the station dining room while the other guys nap in the bunks upstairs.

“Yeah, but I'm a little over a thousand dollars short. I might take out a loan or something. I really want to open the bakery. I'm so close but it's still so far.”

Shawn twirls a stir stick between his fingers. “I uh...I have a couple grand in my savings.”

“No.”

“Honey, I'd be an investor. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to come back to firefighting full time with my arm the way it is. I've got permanent screws in it. If I can make your dream come true, and possibly be a part of it, then that's everything I could ever want.”

You lay your hand over the scars on the back of his forearm and sigh softly. “You're making great progress. The doctor said the screws shouldn't stop you from doing your job.”

Shawn sighs. “It's just...what if I get hurt again? What if it's worse?”

“Shawn.” You turn his face up to look at you across the table. “Why did you take this job? Remember what you told me when I asked why you became a firefighter?”

“Because I wanted to help people.”

“That's right. And you're going to do that. You're going to save so many lives Shawn. I know you're anxious about returning to the job completely, but don't get into the mindset that it's not going to work. You can do anything.”

“You're right. I can. So I'm going to be a firefighter and I'm also going to be an investor in your bakery.”

You shake your head as you let out a laugh. “Shawn, no! I can get a loan.”

“Listen,” he covers your hands with his and lifts them up. “I always wanted to help people, that was my dream, and I'm doing something I love no matter how anxious I am about returning to it. You want to bake, you deserve to have your dreams come true as well. Let me be part of it, please?” He kisses your fingers gently.

“Fine. Just the thousand, I'll pick up the rest. It'll be enough to get the lease on the shop, supplies and pay the first two months utilities. I have all of dad's equipment in storage so we just have to install everything.”

Shawn grins big. “I know a couple of strong guys who would love to help out in exchange for some baked goods.” You giggle and he leans over the table to kiss you.

__________________

“The place is all set up with fairly new electrical and plumbing, everything is up to code for a food business or retail. What was it you wanted to put in here?” The realtor asks as she walks you and Shawn around the empty shop.

“A bakery.” You stand by a counter that could use some love but would work for the time being.

“Oh! Well the building was actually a bakery at one time so the outlets should definitely be up to code for food equipment.”

You turn and look at the realtor. Her name is Peggy. “I know. It was my dad's place.”

“Wow! Really? That's amazing. Does the landowner know that?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Well, sometimes people are sentimental to family businesses. I can talk to him if you like, it's worth a shot.” Peggy lays down her folder on the counter. “I'll leave you with some of the information on the building. I'm sure you probably know most of it, but take a look at it and get back to me with an offer and I'll contact the owner.”

Shawn walks over from the windows and puts his arm around your waist. “Why didn't you tell me this  was your dad's place? This is going to be amazing.”

“I know, I can't wait,” you beam, taking the folder off the counter and following Peggy out of the building.

_______________

You walk in the doors of the firehouse and the place is loud and bustling. The garage and living area have been turned into a party room. It's the annual fill the boot fundraiser, where the firefighters raise money to fill one of the boots from their gear to donate to a charity. It's an adult only event that goes over quite well with the town's residents. There is food, drinks, games and even a little something special. Every year a couple of the guys volunteer to play a game where they dress up in all of their gear and attendees pay set amounts for certain pieces of clothing and gear to come off. All proceeds from the game, food, and drinks  go to “fill the boot” for the years charity. This is only your second year attending and Shawn said you had to come, that he'd be devastated if you didn't.

You're a little late, having worked an extra hour at the deli to help deep clean behind the counter. You had already promised you would or else you wouldn't have stayed. There is loud music, some catchy country band blaring over the speakers in the garage. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. You don't see Shawn right away, eyes scanning for the hard to miss giant.

“Grab a table, I'm gonna get drinks!” Mariel shouts from beside you over the music.

You no sooner get sat down then the DJ for the evening is announcing that they're going to have their next firefighter come out for the clothing bidding and that the goal is three hundred dollars. It's a steep amount, usually the guys go for a hundred or so.

“Again, that goal is three hundred dollars! And as always no touching the firefighters unless they allow it. Keep your hands in your pockets and your cash ready to donate!”

Shawn walks out of the office in his gear and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. No wonder they were looking to raise so much. Shawn was the youngest on staff and by far the most attractive. Of course you're biased, but you see the way people stare at him when you go out. Honestly you can't blame them, but he is all yours.

Mariel sits next to you and slides you a Coke. “Is that your man?”

��Yes.” You lean back, folding your arms in amusement. You can't wait to see how fast his clothes come off.

The DJ starts the bidding with his helmet at twenty dollars. Usually it's a ten dollar item but not with this hot commodity. The helmet is gone instantly, a lady you recognize from the grocery store hands over a bill for it. Gloves fly off at twenty. Boots at thirty take a minute but someone takes one for the team to get the ball rolling. His jacket is next and you just chuckle at the crowd already getting excited.

Shawn looks to you and you just shake your head. He walks into the tables toward you and starts unbuttoning his jacket, opening it and cheering people on to donate the forty dollars to take it off. He winks at you, biting his lip. There is a taker as soon as he leans against the table of a group of college girls across from you.

The pants are next, it's just the fireproof ones but the way Shawn undoes them you'd think he was taking off his jeans already. People are getting rowdy, young ladies reaching for him. The pants donation goes fast. He returns to the front area where the DJ is calling out the next article of clothing. He is barefooted, standing up there in his blue jeans and tee shirt. Of course he has on one of his station shirts that is tight and shows off his body. The jerk. He was loving this.

Mariel lets out a whistle as the DJ calls for his shirt donation. A whopping fifty dollars. You roll your eyes and he grabs the edges, ready to pull off. A guy walks up and drops the donation into the DJ's hand. Shawn pulls the tee up and over, revealing a tank top underneath.

“Are you sure he's wasn't a stripper?” Mariel laughs.

“Nah, he's just cocky. He knows all these people want him.”

“He's just showing off for you.”

“Probably.”

The DJ announces his undershirt for fifty dollars. There's a hesitation in the crowd. It's a lot, and it's one of the top two with the best result physically. “Fifty dollars, for the elementary school to get new play equipment! Come on up, you know you want to see this hot piece of man take his shirt off. It's the best part of the evening- We got a taker!”

Mariel stands up and walks across the room with her money. “Take it off Mendes!”

Shawn throws his head back and laughs. He pulls the tank top off and the room goes apeshit. He crosses the room and hands his tank top to you and Mariel. “Too bad babe, you should have bid on my shirt. I'd have brought it to you too.”

“But I'm going to get it tonight anyway.”

Shawn leans forward and grins. “Yes you will.”

Up next is his pants and that's the last fifty dollars. It takes no time, the DJ doesn't even finish announcing it before three of the college girls come up, the money between them. Sure enough, Shawn undoes his button, zips them down and shucks them. He stands there in his dark red boxers while everyone cheers.

“That is it! Three hundred dollars and you Mr. Mendes are free to get dressed!”

“How much for the boxers?!” Someone yells and Shawn flushes. You laugh.

Shawn goes to the booth and says something inaudible. The DJ leans over to talk to Jeremy who's handling the donation totals.

“Four hundred dollars?” The DJ says quietly, but loud enough everyone can still hear on the speaker. The three men talk quietly for a moment and then Shawn steps back, walking with a smirk to the middle of the front area.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Shawn grins, hands on his hips. “For the remaining amount that we need to raise. For four hundred dollars, yes, four big ones, I will take off my boxers right here and right now.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand up. Shawn looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You shake your head as he silently dares you to stop him.

“Do you take credit cards?” Someone yells jokingly.

Shawn saunters out into the crowd and glides his thumbs along his waistband. “No cards, only cold hard cash.”

You leave your seat and walk around to meet him. You lay your hand on his chest and walk him right back up to the front, eyes locked on his the whole time. He knew how to get you riled up. That was for sure.

“No touching ma'am!” The DJ calls out

Shawn raises his arm and waves him off, allowing it for you.

“You want me to donate it don't you?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” He leans in and whispers, “It's working.”

“Do we have a donation?” The DJ asks and you look over to him. To the right you can see a table of people getting their money together. It's about to happen.

“You got your rise.” You glance down at his stomach and he chuckles.

“I did. Grab my wallet out of my jeans. There's a couple hundred in there for tonight.”

You step past him, grab his jeans and fish his wallet out. You march to the DJ booth and hand over the money.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have hit our goal!”

Shawn grabs the mic from the DJ and grins, “If you guys don't mind, I think I'll take my boxers off in front of the lady here in private.”

There's a sigh of disappointment from the crowd.

“Now now, I think she earned it since she is the sole donor.” He looks over at you and you roll your eyes. “And my beautiful girlfriend.”

An awe from the crowd erupts and they cheer as you help Shawn gather up his gear and clothes to take back into the office. The two of you squeeze into the tiny room and Shawn just laughs.

“You're such a little shit,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “What if I didn't step up?”

“Then I guess I'd be flashing a room of people right now.”

You cross your arms and he steps close, hands on your hips.

“Honey, I'm teasing. I would have made the donation myself. You know I'm yours, I'm not going to show the goods off to the public.”

“There were enough eyes on you tonight. Thank God they can't touch you.”

“Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. “I'm yours and you're mine remember? It's just for fun.”

“You're right,” you sigh and close your eyes. “I'm jealous over nothing. I'm sorry.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I forgive you. Now, you wanna see my dick?” he laughs.

“Not unless you're putting it to good use.” You smirk and he raises his eyebrows.

He growls and pulls your hips against his and gives you that look that could make you do just about anything. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

________________

Three months later

The grand opening if Hot Stuff Bakery is easily one of the best days of your life. The owner of the building accepted your offer after the realtor told him your history with it. You ended up getting it for quite a bit less than you planned so you actually had a little left over to do some extra renovation to the front end.

You and your friends and family are all standing around talking, everyone is enjoying your dipping bread and muffins. The whole town has come out to see your shop and reminisce on the days when your dad owned the place. Many say it has the same charm and for that you couldn't be more proud.

“Hey,” Shawn comes around with a little white to go box in his hand. “I made you something.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, grabbing his box and opening it to find a little white frosted cupcake. It's a perfect spiral, just how you'd showed him.

“I made it at home while you were here last night. I even made a strawberry filling. But there is another surprise in there too.”

You raise your eyebrows. Mr. Fancy over here was really trying to win your heart. As if he didn't already have it. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

You go over to the refrigerator case and pull out a chocolate iced cupcake. “Well, see the funny thing is, I also made you a special cupcake.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes.” You laugh as you set it down in front of him. “I'm appalled you stole my idea.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smiles. “I guess we’re like meant to be together or something.”

“Yep. Now, rock paper scissors to see who gets surprised first?” You hold your fist up over your hand and he does the same. Three quick rounds and he emerges the victor. “Ugh! I don't wanna go first.”

“Too bad.” Shawn places the cupcake in your hand.

You dig your thumbs into the side of it. “I gotta see this filling.” You look up at him and he's just grinning. You pull the soft cake apart and out oozes some very delicious looking strawberry jam but also something hard. You pick it out of the sticky filling and realize exactly what it is. A wedding ring.

“Will you marry me?” Shawn asks taking the ring and wiping it on his jeans.

Your jaw drops. You turn and grab his cupcake. “I think your answer is in here.”

Shawn frowns, confused about your reaction. He takes the cake and opens it like you had. There is no filling in his, and a little tiny toy baby falls out onto the counter. “I... don't understand. How is this my answer?”

“What is it?”

“A toy baby? I don't get it, am I supposed to-” His eyes  widen and you can literally see his brain working. “You're pregnant?!”

“Two months!” You blurt out and everyone looks at the two of you.

Shawn drops down, hands shaking on your waist. He presses his forehead against your stomach and lets out a little cry of joy and kisses you. He stands back up, hands all over your sides and stomach. “I'm going to be a dad... I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to get married!”

Ryan and Jeremy start the congratulations, clapping loudly and everyone joins in. “You always said you were gonna marry her one day!” Jeremy laughs and you look over and back to Shawn.

“You really said that to them?” you laugh and he wraps his arms around you and spins you around.

“I did. The first day I met you in the deli, I knew I had to marry you someday.” He sets you down and cups your face. “I can't wait to be your husband, and a dad.”

“Me neither.” You grin and he bumps his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. To the moon and back.”

You close your eyes and smile. “To the moon and back.”

End

______________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me everything you thought, felt, or things you wanna know! I appreciate every ask and reblog I receive. Please please please leave feedback via ask, reply, message or reblog! 

Thank you again. Without amazing readers I’d never have kept writing. 

-A

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes stories #shawn mendes words #shawn mendes fics #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes

[thisislizheather]

July Jiffs 2020

This was me all month.

The key word being was. We bought an air conditioner! We’ve been an A/C-free family for some time now, but since we’re spending so much time at home, we figured now was the time to be cool. In other news, everything still blows! What a shock! Here’s how I spent July.

I didn’t even know another Halloween movie was being made but of course I’ll go see it even if it turns out to be trash, you gotta support classic horror franchises, that’s just basic horror etiquette 101.

This is the most basic, boring-sounding sandwich on planet earth, but it tastes incredible I promise you (I didn’t add bacon, but I did add fresh mozzarella) and whatever bread you use, it’ll still be great. I find myself constantly forgetting about the greatness of mayo because I, my dear, am an idiot.

I ordered a bunch of new address labels on Zazzle because they were having a Christmas in July sale, so I bought some seasonally inspired labels to use over the next few months. If you’re not seasonally co-ordinating your return address labels, are you even living?

I’m still doing Nathan’s podcast on Patreon incase you’re interested. (You can find more clips on his Instagram.)

I attempted to watch the new Baby-Sitter’s Club on Netflix and it’s really not meant for me. I was never into the books or the movie or any of it, I never liked the idea of kids caring about making money, it seemed too sad to me. “Just be a kid!” I’d always thought.

Speaking of childhood nostalgia, I have started to watch reruns online of Sweet Valley High, which I loved as a kid. It’s no Breaker High, but it’s still pretty great to rewatch. God, Jessica really was an absolute bitch.

Some other things that I’ve rewatched: Con Air (practically a perfect movie, will always love, *Nic Cage forever* might be the only tattoo I’d ever get), Supermarket Sweep is on American Netflix and I was so excited (for about three episodes) then I moved on with my life, Sleepless in Seattle (still a very nice, average, reliable movie), Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (actually a really great summer movie, will always be a fun time to watch, will forever be a huge Keanu fan, I just feel like I could trust him??), and Dick Tracy (will always love this movie even if it has eight million too many montages, the set design is gorgeous, and this one outfit that Madonna wears makes me question… everything).

Some new movies that I’ve watched: Always Be My Maybe (so, so great! How did it take me so long to see this! So many good scenes, such a good movie), The Karate Kid (insane that I hadn’t seen it before, kids were uncomfortably mean in the 80s, favourite part was when Mr. Miyagi beats up the children, great movie), The Stepfather (pretty fun time, so happy we’ve starting watching horror movies again), Eat Pray Love (ugh, I don’t know, I do love movies about women just leaving and doing fun shit alone and abandoning their lives, but this was pretty lame, I hated James Franco’s character more than life and truly didn’t understand how Julia Roberts was even briefly into him), and finally the original The Hills Have Eyes (which I loved weirdly enough despite being incredibly tense the entire movie, I just thought it was so well done and scary and incredible, the rape scene is of course awful and I shut my eyes for that part, but that was the only thing I hated, it doesn’t make sense that I liked this movie so much).

I don’t know how to word this, but something is off with the reasonably priced (and almost too cheap) parmesan sold at Trader Joe’s. It melts weird. It doesn’t taste like normal cheese. Something is afoot and I won’t buy it any longer. I’m truly dreading and equally anticipating the day that all of Trader Joe’s secrets are exposed. Be warned.

That being said, obviously I’m in love with the seasonal summer candles that TJ just released. We have a complicated relationship.

I made this gruyere mac and cheese with caramelized onions (I used almond milk and it still came out good) and can every recipe just include caramelized onions? The world is ending, let’s just put sweet, tiny, brown onions on everything and call it a day.

Ennio Morricone passed away last month and I find myself listening to the Cinema Paradiso soundtrack on repeat.

Read this great piece about summer blockbuster movies which also has just some great ideas for movies to rewatch right now.

I have to remember that Essie’s vibrant colours just f-ing suck. Only their muted/bland colours are good. They should really just stick to those. And if you’re looking for loud colours that stand out, the summer collection at Urban Outfitters is my go-to (and there’s always a 3 for $10 sale with them).

I listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and so far my favourites are definitely: the 1 and this is me trying.

Ugh, Astoriaaaaaa, DO BETTER.

I’ve been thinking about cancelling my Ipsy subscription again (because I think I don’t care about makeup at this current moment in time) and when I logged on to cancel, they let me choose one of the items being sent next month as if they knew I wanted to leave! So I chose a Sunday Riley product (because any sample I’ve tried from them, I’ve loved) so maybe I’ll cancel next month?

I tried a sample of Drunk Elephant’s shampoo & conditioner (which smelled so lovely) and my hair did seem softer the next day. There’s something about this brand though, I feel like they might be tricking us with their beautiful packaging and minimalist persona.

I bought and tried the ancient Biore Strips and I have absolutely no idea if they did what they’re supposed to do. Are you supposed to see the blackheads or whiteheads come off onto the strip? It felt like it just tried to peel my face off. No idea what’s going on with these.

I have been in love with the Peter Thomas Roth Correction Pads, I use one pad before bed each night and I think they’re doing something good because I always wake up with no new pimples. It has even started erasing all of the redness I’ve been experiencing lately from the summer heat and sweat and mask-wearing. At this point, I can definitely see myself rebuying when I run out, and if I do then I’ll definitely not get them from Sephora because you can get them way cheaper at other online retailers.

I’ve also started using this Dr. Dennis Gross All-In-One face cleanser and I think it’s a good one. It’s hard to tell because I started using it the same day at the correction pads I mentioned above (yes that was a bad idea but here we are), so maybe they’re working together to make my face good? We’ll revisit this. 

I finally opened up this Belif set I bought a few months ago and it’s really nothing special. I think the face cream is probably the best item in there because you truly don’t need to use a lot to feel moisturized. But the face cleanser? Meh. I don’t think it does very much, it definitely didn’t help any redness. And the toner? Don’t get me started on how I kind of think toner might be a scam. And the “eye moisturizer”? Seems superfluous. My eye area is plenty moist, thanks.

Perfect summer soap scent: Fresh Rainfall. If I can’t travel this year, I will escape into this scent. (Send help.)

Very excited to hear about Lindy West’s new book.

So I heard that Lady M now ships their cakes to Canada and I was able to scream in excitement for approx. four seconds before looking into it and seeing that it’ll cost you over $100 to get ONE cake sent. THE GALL, I tell you. THE GALL.

I briefly looked into the app Sweatcoin after hearing good things, but it really just seems like an app where its main goal is to track you. And yes, your phone already does that whether you’re aware or not, but I think I’ll pass on the extra tracking.

I heard that the upcoming Halloween Bob’s Burgers episode will “follow the kids as they try to deliver a burger to the hotel on their street.” It’s such a sad little bit of tiny information, but I love their seasonal episodes so much that I’ll take any crumbs available.

Actually helpful tips on how to clean your home efficiently.

Christ, why do I keep forgetting that Bareburger is absolutely nothing special? Why in the good fuck is it taking so long for a Shake Shack to come to Astoria?!

I ate on the patio at Hoja Santa in Astoria and the tacos were nothing to write home about. The service, drinks and chips were outstanding though, so I may have just ordered badly.

New favourite beer alert.

Best tweets of the month over here.

I tried Thai iced coffee and it was so wildly sweet and too aromatic, I probably wouldn’t get it again. And I also tried a Vietnamese iced coffee and it was the perfect level of sweet! What’s the difference between the two, you ask?

I finally tried the katsu sandwich at Hi-Collar as takeout in the East Village and it was absolutely nothing special. No idea why people are so into it.

I haven’t been to Bite in so many months, so it was nice to get takeout earlier this week. God how I’ve missed their ciabatta bread. They use it on their sandwiches and it comes from Balthazar each morning and it’s always heavenly.

I have found the perfect, light summer blanket and I’m trying not to focus on the fact that it came from Amazon.

I tried a grapefruit shandy and holy shit, it might be my favourite new summer drink. 

I ate on the patio at L’Artusi since it just reopened and good god, that carbonara will change you. So psyched to see they have the wagyu steak tartare on the menu now, too. The burger, the panzanella salad and the charred corn were all great, but that carbonara was the standout.

Some things I’d like to do this month: I’d love to try this tomato toast with blue cheese mayo, I’m going to start using a new clothes steamer I just bought with the hopes of getting rid of my iron & ironing board, I rebought a tube of Revitalash because of how great my lashes were looking when I used it a few years ago so I’ll start using it on August 1st and track my progress to prove how great this product is, I can’t wait for Moesha to be coming to Netflix this month, and I am waiting waiting waiting until I can find time to return to Lilia (on the patio) to eat this incredible tomato focaccia & garlic butter (shown below).

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in June over here.

#monthly post #this is liz heather #Liz Heather #July 2020

[medea10]

My Review of Fushigi Yugi

#fushigi yuugi #fushigi yugi #miaka yuuki #yui hongo #tamahome #hotohori #nuriko #mitsukake #chichiri #chiriko #taisuke #nakago #mayo sakaki

[btsybrkr]

Here’s A List Of Things I Hate

I've reached something of a mental block recently when it comes to writing. I think it's because, despite sometimes coming off like I'm mocking things or just being a general smart-arse, I usually write about things I genuinely love. I love The Apprentice. I love Come Dine With Me. I love the idea that the Saturday night schedule, currently occupied on ITV1 by The Masked Singer - a horrifying cross between The Voice and a recurring nightmare I had between the ages of 6 and 8 - might one day be livened up by a post-apocalyptic The X Factor-style talent show in which we choose the next Prime Minister from a roster of Average Joe’s that just feel like giving it a bash.

I usually have lots to say about things I love, but recently, for some reason, I’m struggling to even think of anything that I love enough to write about. Maybe I’m being dragged down by the fact that this January alone seemed to last three long months, or perhaps because January itself included ‘Blue Monday’, the so-called ‘most miserable day of the year’. Maybe it's neither of things, maybe I’m just suffering from a bad case of The Realisation That We And Everything That We Do Are All, In The End, Meaningless, And That Every Day, We Are Collectively Hurtling Closer And Closer Towards The Endless Void And There Is Nothing That Any Of Us Can Do To Stop It. There's probably a snappier name for that, but you know what I mean. In any case, I’m just finding it much easier to think about things I hate recently.

Anyway, what do we do with these feelings of negativity to get rid of them once and for all? We express them. So, for anyone willing to read it, here’s a list of things I hate.

Stephen Mulhern

ITV mainstay Stephen Mulhern arguably belongs on television - not for any positive reason, just because it’s only the barrier of television between him and the viewer that allows him to appear as a cheerful friendly presence, rather than an insufferable know-it-all prick, whose repeated condescending glances to the camera during interviews with rejected Britain’s Got Talent contestants just wouldn’t fly in real life. I mean, really, imagine you were having a conversation with someone, and they reacted to something you said by looking off into the distance, à la Fleabag, with an expression that quite clearly reads “This person is an idiot!! Laugh, everyone!! Laugh at the idiot!!” You know what, Stephen? You’re the idiot. But I won’t laugh at you, because then you might think that you’re funny, and I’m just not having that.

Coleslaw

I saw a tweet years ago that said “what was the first person to milk a cow thinking?”, and honestly, it raises a very good question. I can only imagine that there was some perverted ulterior motives at play, for someone to not only milk the cow’s udders in the first place, but then to drink it, at a time when that just wasn’t done. They must have been a pretty nefarious character, it almost doesn’t bear thinking about. Instead, I’d like to question the motives of the even dodgier character who first looked at grated carrots, cabbage and onions, and thought ‘You know what might really tie these bland individual tastes together? Mayonnaise. A fuckload of it.’

You know what, though? It's not the existence of coleslaw that confuses me the most about it - it's the popularity of it. It has pride of place on the table at every family buffet, it’s disappointingly included in otherwise-appealing wraps in the Boots meal deal fridge, and it's an option on the menu in a shocking majority of takeaways, despite the fact that nobody has ever emerged, staggering and bleary-eyed from Walkabout at 3:30am and thought ‘I could absolutely murder some coleslaw’. Most annoying of all is the way some restaurants chuck a bit of paprika in the mix and use it as an excuse to rename it ‘POW POW GROOVY SLAW’, or something equally ridiculous. Why are we trying to sex up a bowl of vegetables covered in mayonnaise? I can't think of anything less sexy, and I don't particularly want to try.

Let's face it, coleslaw has long overstayed its welcome. It's the last stubborn hanger-on from the pages of stomach-churning 1970s dinner party cookbooks (probably found somewhere between the recipes for spinach and tuna pie and a boiled, unglazed joint of ham suspended in gelatine), and it's time we admitted that and stage a renaissance for the real king of the veg/mayo combo. Rise, Sir Potato Salad - your rule has begun.

Facebook

I recently deleted Facebook off my phone, and immediately noticed an improvement in the overall quality of my life. I promise I don’t mean this in the typical ‘phone bad, book good’ way that fake-’woke’ holier-than-thou characters preach about (usually on Facebook itself, ironically). I still happily waste away hours of my life on Twitter, and Instagram, the latter of which arguably has the most negative influence on my brain out of all the social networks. The thing with Facebook is that it doesn’t necessarily have a negative influence on my brain, so much as it has no influence on any part of me whatsoever. Facebook is a vacuum. It's completely, entirely pointless. In fact, it’s where ‘point’ itself goes to die.

Considering there’s probably no two Facebook users out there with the exact same friends list, I'm willing to bet that everybody’s News Feed looks eerily similar. Every scroll through is the same - a former workmate announcing a pregnancy, someone you forgot about from school sharing a vague, ‘deep’ quote about their hurt feelings, an elderly relative you didn't realise was racist until literally right now, when they began sharing posts from a page eloquently titled ‘MUSLIMS!! it is TIME to go HOME so we can have BRITAIN BACK’, or something along those lines. If you ever have nothing better to do - although, I'm sure there is always something, anything, better to do - just set a timer, open up Facebook, and see how long it takes before you come across a single thing that genuinely resonates with you in any positive way at all. I just redownloaded Facebook to try it for myself, and it took me 46 minutes.

Sound like a lie? Well, to be fair, it is. But there's more truth in that than almost anything you'll see on Facebook.

Those Slush Puppy Straws With Tiny Spoons On The End

Plastic straws are on their way out, and quite rightly. The Sea Turtle Conservancy estimate that around half the world’s sea turtles have ingested plastic, and straws are believed to have accounted for a lot of that. With everything you read or learn about the effect of straws on the environment, it's surprising that it's taken this long for us to do something about it.

With that said, it's not just the turtles that are benefitting from the rise of the paper straw - I'm pretty pleased about it as well. Why? Because using paper instead of plastic might mean that we stop manufacturing those evil straws with tiny spoons on the end of them.

Yes, evil. How many times have you been enjoying a Slush Puppy on a hot summer’s day, only to realise you can't get to the bits at the bottom of the cup, because your straw inexplicably has a spoon on the end of it. What's that for? A Slush Puppy is a drink, and spoons are for eating things with. “It's for eating the delicious bits of vaguely-flavoured ice after you've sucked up all the syrup”, you might say, but then why? Mojitos are made with crushed ice, but you wouldn't go up to the barman and go "excuse me, mate, you forgot to give me a spoon so I could eat all these delicious bits of vaguely-minty ice", would you?

Anyway, you can't suck up all the syrup in the first place when the bottom of your straw just isn't a straw. This a problem we usually solve by holding the cup above our mouths and giving the bottom of the cup a gentle tap, usually sending the rest of it falling out of the cup and all over your face, shirt, anywhere but your mouth, faster than you can say “I can't believe I’m 23 years old and writing an angry blog about straws with tiny spoons on the end”. Another solution we often resort to is turning the straw upside down, which, in my experience, always leads to cutting the roof of your mouth on the tiny spoon that you were never going to use in the first place. No wonder it took us so long to show a bit of sympathy for the turtles - we've been ignoring our own straw-related injuries for years, probably just because we think it makes us look hard.

As far as I'm concerned, spoons are for food, and straws are for liquids. That's why, whenever I order soup in a café, I always ask for a straw. Yes, I get looks from the other customers, but I'm sure they aren't looks of amusement or confusion - everyone else just wishes they'd thought of it first.

Ladybirds

Ladybirds aren't cute. They are not ‘nice’ bugs. They are beetles, in a quirky disguise, who can also fly. With all that in mind, why are we taught to like them? Why do people spot one land on your clothes, or in your hair, and cheerfully announce “oh, there’s a ladybird on you!”, as if you’ve somehow been chosen by the ladybird and should feel honoured. Get it off me now, because I don’t know what it’s going to do! Don’t tell me that it’s ‘harmless’ and that I’m ‘overreacting’. We thought that cigarettes were ‘harmless’ before the mid-60s, cheerfully puffing our way through life, with one in each hand at any given moment, as we watched our darling babies speak their first words, which were usually something along the lines of “alright, mate, 20 Sterling Dual, please” - but then we learned. We learned that they weren’t as harmless as we first thought. And believe me when I tell you that, one day, we’ll reach the same conclusion about ladybirds. Just as soon as we find out exactly what they’re planning.

In fact, where have they gone? I haven’t seen one for a good while. Surely, they’re holed up in a specially designed lair somewhere, millions of them, carefully planning their next move in their efforts to overthrow the human race. Planning and watching. We may not be able to see them, but I’m willing to bet they have eyes on us. You know when you’re alone and you get the feeling there’s something or someone else present? It’s ladybirds. I’m sure of it. We need to watch our backs.

I’m not really sure where my fear of ladybirds has come from. Perhaps it’s down to a dream I’ve been having at least three times a year since I was a teenager, in which I’m leaving my Nan’s house and spot a ladybird the size of a Golden Retriever out in the alleyway, just sitting there, still and silent. I run around the corner to one of my friend’s houses, to warn him of the arrival of our ladybird overlords, but the entire front of his house is covered in millions of the things. I shout his name, up at an open window, and he replies that he’s coming down to open the door to me, but when he does, it isn’t him at all - it’s just a 6ft tall ladybird. I usually wake up in a cold sweat at that point, but when I try to go back to sleep, I can feel them crawling all over me.

I know I sound insane, but I promise you, I’m not - I just don't trust them, and I think that’s understandable.

Hate

If there's one thing I hate more than all the above, it's the very concept of hate itself. I don't just mean in a political or universal sense - although, I do agree the world might be a far better place if we all just hated each other a little bit less - hate has an effect on all our personal lives, too.

I'm really trying to make the most of my early twenties, and that means conserving what little energy I have left after I'm done working, drinking, and crying - just the usual daily activities that we all partake in - to be a little more productive. I can't be using that energy up on hate. In fact, in a scientific study that I've literally just made up, it was found that feeling hatred for even one fifth of a second uses up three times as much mental and physical energy as smiling at sixteen angry strangers, half of which are making fists at you. You can't argue with those sorts of statistics.

Anyway, I'm hoping to return to talking about things that make me feel a little more positive next time, because, besides anything, it's just nice to be nice, isn't it?

Not to Stephen Mulhern, though. He needs to learn his lesson.

If you like seeing me talking shit, but would rather it wasn't so bloody long, you can follow me on twitter here.

[nedflix-n-chill]

12 Days of Christmas #3 Lake Alice In the third act after the killer is revealed they monologue about "cliches" and call something "boring" which is fucking rich for a movie where ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENS. Hey for a Christmas horror low to no budget indy film there's a surprising amount of competence here. Shit like the acting and cinematography are all solid, which is definitely something i can't say in regard to all those god awful no-budget Krampus films I force myself to watch every year in spite of the havoc it wreaks on my mental health. Shit, this film started kinda strong too. Its a town full of sus people. The new boyfriend is sus. The old boyfriend is sus. The sheriff is sus. The deputy is sus. The weirdo in line at the coffee shop is sus. As Randy from Scream famously said, "Everyone is a suspect!" All this slasher had to do was some slashing and I'd be in. Slashers are cliche as fuck but we LOVE those cliches or else we wouldn't watch 400 cut and paste copies of the same movie but we're horror fans and we are easily appeased. So much nothing happens. Its the most milquetoast vanilla white bread mayo bullshit. No seasoning. Just bland. Sure in the third act we finally get some "slashing" but it feels like too little too late. They light someone on fire which is always cool and there's a certain fucked up death which occurs (though its been done before and in much better movies) but fuck it, its only an hour and eighteen minutes so i can't be too mad. Its just a shame that actors who are capable of reading and a crew with the ability to turn a camera on and point it in the right direction were wasted on such nothingness. https://www.instagram.com/p/CXjsT2dlVGz/?utm_medium=tumblr

#3

[sambinnie]

1. The waters are so high that we are soaked mid-calf even before we get to the swimming spot, our feet freezing in our trainers, and we change, and wade in knee-high and suddenly I am terrified of stepping off the bank I can’t even see. It’s the coldest we’ve ever felt, we agree, and all thoughts of Wim Hof vanish from my mind as we dash almost straight out again, hooting and gasping. 

2. Richard Flanagan is very interesting on Open Book, talking about how we’ve ‘come to an end point of a certain sort of individualism’, and how some societies seem to be focused inwards, in a chaotic shuffle of self-fixated individuals, while others are focused outwards, each member understanding themselves to be a part of a community that needs each unit to participate. I’m sure there are benefits to each — perhaps an individualistic society enables more leaps in developments and creativity? — but in tandem with Adam Curtis’s interview on Kermode & Mayo’s Film Review in which he discusses the idea that we’ve forgotten to dream about the future, it’s clarified why aspects of our current society make me feel so drained and low. 

We have plenty of dystopian visions, Curtis says, but apparently so few plans for how we might make things better, since everything can seem so insurmountable. Shortly afterwards a friend sends me an uplifting poem about learning to love yourself and fuck everyone else, and we discuss that the first part is so important, is vital to empathising with others, but the second part is a message on which we need to turn the volume down, that life is about compromise, and doing things we sometimes don’t want to; that you can love who you are and still quieten bits of yourself momentarily for the good of society; that there is a wide, wide gulf between being an abuse victim and having to do things that aren’t in our perfect day, and yes there are plenty of grey areas and difficulties and most people don’t have free choice about doing things they shouldn’t have to do and don’t benefit them in the slightest, bar just keeping them slightly alive, but my god, self-care has been joyfully co-opted by capitalism because if we’re caring about ourselves we’re a) not thinking of others, so we can’t unite to make meaningful change en masse, and b) we’re giving our money away for more shit that’s destroying the planet and filling our homes and distracting us from the hard work of discussion, and questioning, and listening, and learning, and apologising, and uniting with people with whom we might disagree. I remember the feeling of righteousness on twitter at the start of the 2010s around turning our backs on people when we thought they were morally wrong, be it about Brexit or general elections or shopping choices or careers, but I think I may only be left with my magical electric blanket if I solely hang out with those who agree with every single one of my strongly felt opinions. I am trying to ask more instead, and to listen. (Speaking of which, this is a hopeful episode of Cautionary Tales, featuring an extract from Tim Harford’s latest book, which suggests that curiosity is the glue that will bring polarised groups back together, and allow forward action to occur.)  

3. I talk with a friend in advertising about a report that shows our culture at the moment is in a left-brain phase of its cycle: our music is dull and catchy and repetitive, our books middle-of-the-road, our visuals the same safe social media shades and shapes, our celebrities and interviews flat and PR’d to an inch of their bland lives (I miss Popworld so much, and this interview with Miquita Oliver is great), our adverts literal and unimaginative. For all the progress we’ve made in some areas, it makes me want to watch half an hour of weird 90’s ads, like this and this and this and this and this and this and this and this. 

4. Speaking of gaming, I’m so strongly not a gamer that I feel second-hand embarrassment for adult gamers — something I’m fully aware is ridiculous, hypocritical and utterly unnecessary — but this beautiful podcast, Unplayable: Disability and the Gaming Revolution, had me crying like a tiny baby. Good on everyone who works to make the world better. 

5. I’ve been reading this recently, which is so very good (besides the usual compulsory every-five-pages typos which seems to be the norm with some big publishers these days, and makes me weep for the author) and in googling some of the shows mentioned in it found this interesting Salon piece from 2011 about Galliano and what happens to someone with effectively limitless power in their field. It also contains this line, which if I was a hacker/dickhead I would leave in place of all current Instagram pages: “The Tibetan Buddhists view grandiose self-regard as not just a poor way to live and horribly embarrassing, but as a klesha: literally, a poison.” 

6. This week I made this marmalade, and these lamb meatballs, and this exceptionally easy lemon ice cream. All are 100% worth it.  

7. After a small Imbolc feast, one housemate asks if I want to do some Lego, and I am so flattered by the invitation that I do, and we build the ground floor of an excellent house, including swimming pond (complete with octopus) and a kitchen table littered with ice lollies. As we work, we listen to the lockdown playlist I started collating almost twelve months ago, and I discover that the housemate now knows most of the words to TLC’s Waterfalls and Florence + the Machine’s Jenny of Oldstones and Elton John’s Tiny Dancer and Buzzcocks’ Ever Fallen in Love, and, while waiting for me to finish one section of the house, sits and solves a Rubik’s cube over and over again, and I feel the luck of it fill up my whole torso until it almost tips over into panic. 

[froghwon]

Nobody Else WOULD be too powerful. If they did start a new storyline, what story would you like to see?!

Listen, the table is literally center stage it has to look good 😂 if it’s that close to the performers and will be in every photo, it👏🏼has👏🏼to👏🏼look👏🏼good👏🏼😂

I also see nunu in you 😌 like you know when to give support. But Kihyun being your enemy? I feel you. I won’t hesitate to whoop his butt if he ever tried to challenge me in something. (LOL I had a scenario of him being that classmate where he debates with you every chance he gets to get the upper hand in front of the class but he secretly likes you because you are a strong person who doesn’t back out of a challenge. Watch out college au, I’ll get to you someday 😂)

I had to do a rain check on the hike, I haven’t been feeling well and it’s not fair to get anyone sick 😔 today i couldn’t taste anything and panicked but my mom thinks I could just be having a seasonal cold 🤞🏼stay warm, drink water, get rest!

I never had fisherman’s soup, mostly because my mom ignorantly forbids it without even trying it 🙄 (she’s so plain, I gag whenever I place food orders for her. Her go to sandwich at subway is the cold cut sandwich with JUST mayo and little bit of pickles on UNTOASTED WHITE BREAD. And I’m like mom....you are untoasted white bread. Thank goodness I got my taste from my dad 😂) are there any food your parents like that drive you crazy?

Yum prime rib!!!! How do you prepare it (like what’s your routine that you would do for it)? I’m glad you are taking precautions and keeping family safe 😌 I hope your family stays warm and healthy.

Christmas lights can be such a nice time if there isn’t so many people around 😂 i love walking through neighborhoods looking at lights but if it’s a popular neighborhood then ALL the people gravitate to there and it’s like 👀 please stay away from me (if you haven’t noticed, the pandemic really made me enjoy my little bubble 😂 nasty people everywhere)

Ooo fun question, naturally people ask what are your favorite Christmas movies but I want to know your least favorite! What are some Xmas movies that you thought were awful? Any popular movies that you don’t like? I’m all ears!

That would be a top notch road trip👌🏼 and yes pen pals would be the cutest thing 🥺

Top 5 idols you would trust book recommendations from?

Top 5 idols you would trust movie recommendations from 😂?

Top 3 idols you would visit an animal shelter with 😌(a day full of playing with doggies and kitties)?

-mbb secret santa who is not excited to share their present for you 😘🌹

true that!! hmm idk but it’d interesting to have kyun as the main character for an mv, he always worked hard on acting for the mxray kdrama parodies, so i know he’d do well :D

LMAO thats exactly what i imagine!! kihyun is the male lead for my enemies to lovers trope, we’re still in the enemies phase :P

awww thats too bad 🥺🥺🥺 i wish u a quick recovery!!! get lots of rest and eat well <33

ohhh noooooo, ur mom’s a bland white? my condolences 😂😂 her subway order sounds whack ksdncjkdnf tbh im not really picky with food, but i dont like bland food, like rice porridge, which my parents love :P it may also be a texture thing bc i love white rice, just not as porridge lol

ty bub!! i hope ur family has a happy and healthy holiday season 💞💞💞 i slather the meat with butter and herbs and roast it in the oven for a few hours :D its really simple, the most time consuming part is the roasting hehe

haha thats valid!! whenever i see people when im going for a walk around the neighborhood im the same way, like “get away from me plague rat!!!”

hmmm tbh there arent really any xmas movies i dont like 🤔🤔 oh i dont think home alone 4 was anything special lol a classic movie like that doesnt need sequels :P how about you?

skdnjckjdnsf none of these binches have time to read 😂😂 but if i had to pick, i’ll say: taeyeon, tiffany, jessica for non-fiction, and shownu and kihyun for nerd books :P

idols for movie recs (not bc i think they have good taste, but that they would give me interesting recs): hyungwon, changkyun, minghao, joshua, and scoups :)

idols to go to an animal shelter with (omg that would be so cute 🥺🥺🥺): jooheon, changkyun, and dk bc i think they would be the most cute 🥺

phew that was a lot of writing >.< how do u get all that text in 1 ask??? theres a word limit???

but ahhh i cant believe its christmas tomorrow!!! im so excited to find out who u are!!!! AND you have a gift?? for ME???? 😭😭😭 now im REALLY excited for christmas!!!!! and if u really are minhyuk, im deleting <3

#my mbb ss :) #Anonymous

[letslivelady]

A Scottish Festive Holiday Grace

My Scottish parents taught us to lift our glasses as grace was recited at any important family gathering.  Be it a holiday or a family gathering, everyone joined together at the supper table ready to eat.  The Scottish prayer was recited by my Dad in a manner that was more of a toast than a standard blessing on a meal. He commanded everyone's attention, waited for silence, then raised his glass and reverently spoke in his thick Glaswegian brogue:

"Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thanket."

Growing up in Pennsylvania, we recited this Scottish grace year after year, chiming in as we learned the words.  It was my understanding that the verse were largely attributed to the Scottish bard, Robert Burns, my Dad's hero.  As the story goes, Robbie Burns was requested during a visit to the seat of the Earl of Selkirk to say grace at dinner.  Thus, the bard brought forth the old verse known in the 17th century as the Galloway Grace or the Covenanters' Grace and was spoken in Lallans (the Lowland Scots dialect).

A Festive Scottish Holiday Grace

In the vernacular of the English, the verse reads:

"Some have meat and cannot eat,   Some cannot eat that want it; But we have meat and we can eat,   So let the Lord be thankit."

Today my brother and I fondly carry on the tradition as it brings up warm memoriesof years gone by.  So, we perform the same Scottish grace at our own family gatherings and hope that it will be carried forward. This simple Scottish prayer is also our connection to the legacy of our parents and family in Scotland past and present.

To give you a sense of the flavor of the moment during this festive holiday toast, watch the following by Bill Thomson, Ambassador for Hello Scotland, while he recites the Selkirk Grace at a Burn's Supper at the Marriott Dalmahoy Hotel and Country Club near Edinburgh.

[https://youtu.be/pjMaW9GT__Y

Bill-recites-the-Selkirk-Grace.mp4"][/video]

The words "some have meat and cannot eat"were never so meaningful to me as when my husband suffered from esophageal cancer.  We returned to Concordia, MO from St. Mary's Hospital at Mayo Clinic, Rochester, MN and arrived home on a snowy December night, exhausted after a long drive.  It was important to set up Keith's feeding tube and administer medications right away.  After two surgeries and complications of septic poisoning that almost killed him, we were delighted just to be home.   But, it was not long before Keith spoke by phone with his surgeon and said "This feeding tube has to go.  I want a steak. Can I eat a steak?" Dr. Nichols laughed and said "You can eat any damned think you can keep down.  Just eat slowly, chew well and enjoy being alive."  

A Scottish Dish of Mince and Tatties

Working up to the steak, I served him something that is a simple Scottish pleasure, Mince and Tatties.  This wonderful meat dish is a great comfort food that went through his modified digestive system easily.

My mother was a Scottish meat and potatoes cook, so this dish had been a staple in our family.   Most important is starting with good butcher meat.  Mom would pick out some lean stewing beef, then asked the butcher to grind it for her.  This way she knew what she was getting.  "Use chuck"she said.  "It has the best flavor."

But, when I made the dish myself, it never tasted quite the same.  And, of course, there was no recipe.  She would say "Well, I don't know.  Just use pinch of this and a little bit of that." By trial and error, I came up with my own recipe for the dish.  But, mine includes garlic which Mom considered to be a sacrilege.  It makes a hearty meal for a cold night.  So, I might try some for Christmas Eve this year.

In typical fashion,  I never wrote down my recipe either, but here is a link to a UK recipe that is a close match: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/476/mince-and-tatties.aspx

It calls for Bisto powder, which is a version of beef granules, but a bit different.  You can order it through amazon.comor get it at World Market or Wal-Mart. Embellish with spices to your own taste.  The basic old country dish was generally quite bland.

A Scottish grace is not just for us Scots.  It is God's grace and is for all people.  So, enjoy your own festive holiday traditions.  I invite you to relax for a couple of minutes and follow along with old country music.   Performed by North Sea Gas, the music is called "Some Hae Meat"

https://youtu.be/WIGu0Mu8N50

Some-Hae-Meat-North-Sea-Gas.mp4"][/video]

May you celebrate a festive Christmas and Hogmanay this year and for many years to come! And "lang may your lum reek."

#selkirk grace #Robert Burns #holiday traditions #mince and tatties #scottish