#also this is the first time my parents r leaving me home alone overnight and they WILL be back the next day. this shouldn’t affect ur

[dreamertrilogys]

*most of them r my close friends whomst i trust

** all valuables/breakables would be put away in locked bedrooms upstairs beforehand + the only stainable furniture moved away

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 2

A/N: I promise I still have summer bingo fics ready to go, but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is. This is a part 2 to The R Drug, and is a lot of talking and exposition, and a lot of Sonny hating himself. This will most likely get a part 3. No chapter will ever be darkfic or as dark as the first one was. It’s only up from here.

Tags: self-loathing, mentions of rape (like, one line--references first fic heavily) and therapy, otherwise none, just a lot of angst with a maybe happy ending?

Words: 4657

Taglist:  @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy  @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867  @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

For the first few days, you sat on the couch in pain and exhaustion, wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing. The doctor said that you were severely dehydrated and had kept both you and Sonny overnight after the club, though separated. Olivia and Amanda interviewed you, while Fin interviewed Sonny. You were both then sent on leave until you could come back to work…if you could come back at all.

Thankfully, you weren’t pregnant. But you were sore, every movement causing aches and pains as you shuffled around your apartment. Obviously, you weren’t pressing charges, and neither was Sonny; what happened was a freak accident, something you never wanted to think about again, but knew you’d have to in order to move past it.

When you could finally walk normally again, you went to a therapist. It took a while to find a groove; therapists specializing in rape victims had trouble dealing with the fact that while yes, you were a victim, you were also a perpetrator. The other strange thing was that you weren’t angry with Sonny; you were angry with yourself. You assaulted him, just as he assaulted you. And that was the part that was eating you up inside.

It took months of therapy, going every day and working through your confused and frustrated emotions before you finally came to terms with what had happened. You were ready to put your badge and gun back on, ready to move on with your life. You missed your job, your squad. But most of all, you missed Sonny. He was your best friend before all of this happened, and you hadn’t seen nor talked to him since the club. You missed his boyish charm, his bright smile and his loud laugh. You missed the little inside jokes you had together, and the late nights spent curled on the couch, watching reality TV and sports. You missed your Sonny.

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

On Monday morning, four months after the club incident, you made your way into the familiar precinct. You were heading for Olivia’s office when you stopped short. Both Amanda and Fin were at their desks like normal. Even your desk was how you left it; a few photos, baskets to hold paperwork, little knick-knacks that made it yours. But Sonny’s desk, the one next to yours, was completely different. There wasn’t a single photo of any Carisi, no Mets or Islanders memorabilia, no nothing that made it his. Instead, there was a picture of two men, one you didn’t recognize posing with…Deputy Chief Dodds?

Before you could ask questions, Amanda said, “that’s Mike Dodds’s desk. He’s the new Sergeant.”

“Where’s Carisi’s desk,” you asked, turning to look at her.

But it was Fin who answered. “He doesn’t have one.” You swore you got whiplash turning to look at Fin so quickly. “He turned in his badge and gun months ago…just after the club fiasco.”

“What?” you almost yelled. You were loud enough that Olivia heard you, and she and the new guy—Mike?—came out of her office. She beckoned you to her office, and you passed by Mike, who tried to give you a smile that you did not return.

“Welcome back—” Olivia started before you cut her off.

“Carisi’s gone?!”

She closed the door behind you before taking a seat at her desk. She motioned for you to sit, and you all but collapsed into the chair. “I tried to keep him, to talk him out of quitting. But he refused, saying he needed to work through things. I’m sorry, but there was nothing I could do.”

You stared in disbelief at the top of her desk. Sonny was gone. You had to talk to him, had to see him. You said as much to Liv.

“If you think you can get through to him, then by all means. Because it’s been hard around here not having two of my best detectives,” she replied. “Dodds has been a godsend, but he doesn’t replace either of you, and especially not both of you.”

You nodded. “I’ll talk to him, try and bring him back.”

“I wish you luck. I think he’ll listen to you; you were close before…all this.”

 **********************

After leaving the precinct, you tried texting and calling Sonny, but to no avail. In fact, it was going straight to voicemail, as if his phone were dead or off. So, you swung by his apartment. You buzzed his place, but a deep, gruff man answered.

“I just moved in a few months ago; the previous owner seemed to be in a hurry to move out,” he said. Clinging to the hope that this was still Sonny just trying to put on a fake accent, you buzzed a neighbor. But they confirmed that Sonny had moved out a couple months ago, and that a new tenant moved in.

Out of desperation, you tracked down a phone book, and looked up his parent’s place. Then you took the drive out to Staten Island. You shifted nervously on the porch, waiting for an answer after knocking.

A woman in her 60s, who could only be Mrs. Carisi, answered. Her eyes darted to your waistband, the badge there, then back to yours. You watched them slowly fill with tears.

“Please, don’t tell me yet,” she muttered, and you furrowed your brow. “Don’t tell me my Bambino is…is…” she hiccupped, and you understood; she thought you were here to deliver the news that Sonny was dead.

“No, no! I’m actually…I’m Carisi’s partner…or I was. I’m just…having a hell of a time tracking him down,” you quickly explained.

She sniffled, trying to compose herself. “Well, I hope you do find him.”

“You mean…you don’t know where he is?” you asked, heart sinking.

She shook her head. “He told us he needed some time, and that he’d be in touch. That was the last we saw or heard from him, and that was back in March.” It was June now, and you were realizing that this was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

You nodded, muttering out an apology for bothering her as you turned away, but she grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Please, if you find Sonny, tell him we love him. And that we want him to come home.”

“Of course,” you replied before leaving, holding back tears until you were back in your car.

 ****************

Your first real clue as to where Sonny went came through looking at his bank statements. There, you found a one-way trip to Genoa, Italy. Without too much thought behind it, you booked a flight, texted Olivia your intentions, then headed to the airport. In your hurry, you didn’t pack, didn’t even book a place to stay. You only had one thing on your mind, and it was to find Sonny Carisi.

With the clothes on your back, your phone, passport, and wallet full of bills that you converted to euros, you got on the one-way trip to Genoa.

 ***************

You barely slept on the plane, landing early in the morning. The sun was just peaking over the beautiful Italian landscape. Even in your exhaustion and worry, you had to stop and appreciate the architecture of a different country. Genoa was beautiful, and you’d be enjoying yourself if the drive to find your missing partner wasn’t so high. You had a picture of him on your phone, and you went around, asking everyone you passed by if they had seen him. At first, you were asking in English—you didn’t know Italian. But eventually, you learned the phrases you needed.

“L'hai visto?” you asked desperately.

You understood “no,” and saw the look of sadness on their faces.

“Grazie,” you replied, moving on.

You must’ve asked hundreds of people. The sun was high in the sky, and you felt a hopelessness in your fruitless search. Why did you ever think you’d find him? There was a good chance he wasn’t even in Genoa anymore; he could’ve landed and moved somewhere more isolated. You had nothing to go on, and your voice and face took on a pleading, desperate tone. You must’ve looked like an unhinged person, asking the same question over and over again while pointing frantically to your phone screen.

Another thought came to you in the form of a growling stomach. You hadn’t eaten, hadn’t had so much as a sip of water since you got off the plane. Which then led you to think about what you were going to do once the sun went down. You didn’t have a whole lot of money on you, and you didn’t know how much anything cost.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” you muttered to yourself in frustrated hopelessness. You sat down hard on a bench, cursing yourself for not thinking this through better.

A woman came over to you; she looked somewhat familiar. You must’ve talked to her before. But she started speaking rapid Italian to you. You gave her a puzzled look, brow furrowed. You tried to express that you didn’t speak Italian, and she stopped, her face contorted as she thought.

“Man,” she said in slow, pronounced English. She pointed to her left. “Man...you want?”

You followed her finger and froze when you saw the tall, lanky frame of Sonny through a shop window. You jumped to your feet, shouting a “thank you!” to her as you ran on tired legs to the shop. Sonny was just paying for groceries, and was heading out of the shop when you reached him.

His eyes widened as he saw you, guilt flooding his eyes. “...[y/n]?” he asked. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” you replied, grinning. “I thought I’d never find you.”

He gave you a hard look. “I wish you didn’t,” he muttered before turning to leave.

You stared in disbelief as he walked down the street, bag in his arms. Snapping yourself out of it, you hurried after him. “Carisi, what are you doing here in Italy?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, not breaking in his stride. You struggled to keep up with his long legs, your body and mind exhausted. “I’m trying to start over, away from my past.”

You pushed yourself to get in front of him, cutting him off. “You can’t just—just run away.... Don’t I...don’t we mean anything to you? The squad, your family—”

“Of course you do,” he replied, eyes softening for a moment. “That’s why I left.”

You looked at him, eyes pleading. “Look, Dom, I know what happened was...traumatic. But—”

“I’m not talking about that. Not now, not ever.” And then he was walking again, easily stepping around you. “Please, just go home,” he called over his shoulder to you.

You watched him retreat for a moment before heading after him again. “Dominick, you need to talk about it, if not to me, than to someone else. But you can’t bury it down, move on like nothing ever happened.”

Sonny whipped around to glare at you, face hard. “Like nothing ever happened? You think that’s what I’m doing?” He shook his head, huffing. “I’ll never stop thinking about it! This will haunt me to my grave! And when I’m burning in Hell, I’ll know why.”

It broke your heart to see him like this. “Please, listen to me. You need to work through this. It took me months to come to terms with my actions, and I know you can do it, too.”

“I’m too disgusted with myself,” he replied, shaking his head. “I hate myself too much for what I did to you.”

He tried to turn away again, but you grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. He flinched at the contact, pulling away from your touch, and you let your hand fall. “I hated me, too. Still do sometimes. But it wasn’t our fault; we were drugged. There was nothing we could do—”

“I could’ve fought it. I could’ve controlled myself.”

“And what, I couldn’t?” you shot back. Sonny’s eyes widened at your outburst. “If you hate yourself so much, then you must hate me, too. I did the same thing you did.”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes scanning yours. “I could never hate you.”

“Then why are you so hellbent on hating yourself, but not me?”

“Because I...” he trailed off, thinking through his words. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, but instead he whispered, “I don’t know.”

You moved closer to him. “Then please, let me help you.” You didn’t make the mistake of touching him again, instead just gazing deeply into his eyes.

Sonny sighed heavily, regripping the bag in his arms. “Yeah, okay. But...let me sleep on it, first?” He saw the skeptical look you gave him, and he quickly added, “I promise I won’t run away again. I just...I need time to process things. Where are you staying? I can swing by in the morning.”

“Uhh...” you said, looking at the ground.

“...please tell me you have a place to stay.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I was going to try and find a place, soon?” you tried.

You could see the inner struggle he had as he fought himself. “I could...you could stay with me, if you want.... That is, if you feel safe with me...if you can trust me.”

“Dominick, I trust you with my life,” you said softly.

His eyes widened for a moment. “Yeah...okay. Follow me.”

 ****************

Sonny lived in a small apartment. Though it was a little smaller than his place in Manhattan, it was absolutely stunning, the view from his window gorgeous. It was simply furnished, yet it still somehow felt like...Sonny. He put his grocery bag down on the little counter that acted like an island in a kitchen. In reality, it was just a piece that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“Have you eaten?” he asked as he put his things away.

You stomach grumbled loudly in response. “Uh, no,” you muttered, embarrassed.

Sonny gave you a look. “So, let me get this straight. I can tell by your no luggage or place to stay that you just flew to Genoa with absolutely no backup plan? What if you didn’t find me? What if I went to Vernazza or something?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t in the best state of mind, okay? I was worried about you; no one had heard from you, not even your parents. And your phone just went to voicemail.”

He sighed. “I left my phone in New York; I didn’t want it. Maybe I also wasn’t in the best state of mind when I left.”

You dug your phone out of your pocket; you only had 10% left on it. You unlocked it, then shoved it towards him. “You need to call your parents. Your mom is heartbroken, and asked me to tell you that she loves you. But I think it would be better coming from her directly to you.”

Tears filled his eyes as he took your phone from you. “If I do, then it’ll kill your phone battery. There’s no way the call would be less than five hours long.”

“Call them,” you urged. You could buy a phone charger in the morning. Sonny sighed, dialing the number. “I’ll give you some privacy,” you whispered, heading outside. You heard a soft, “hey ma; it’s me,” before you closed the front door behind you.

You were so relieved to have found Sonny. Sure, he was still broken and hurt, but you knew you could help him find himself, pull himself back from the darkness in his mind. You just didn’t know how long it would take, how long you’d be in Italy for. You didn’t want to rush him, couldn’t rush him if you tried. And you knew a lot of this would be an internal battle, something you knew intimately well based on your own experience. In the end, he’d have to find the strength to forgive himself on his own before he could move on. You sighed, looking up into the dark clouds above you, the muggy heat making your skin sticky.

 *********************

Sonny came and got you about an hour later. His eyes were rimmed red, but it seemed as though a weight had lifted off him as he handed back your now dead phone.

“Sorry; I can buy you a charger in the morning,” he muttered, leading you back inside.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

You both ate dinner in silence; Sonny was pensive, thinking, while you were starving and shoveling the delicious food into your mouth. Once you finished—your huge bites compared to his little nibbles had you finishing in record time—you took your dishes to the kitchen and started cleaning them.

“I can do that—” Sonny started before you cut him off.

“It’s fine; you cook, I clean.” It was your rule back in Manhattan, and Sonny smiled softly at the memories of you both in his kitchen.

“Look, Sonny, I know you said you don’t want to talk—and that’s fine! But, if you ever do want to talk, I’m here, willing to listen,” you said. You scrubbed at your plate with the sponge, forcing yourself to not turn and look at him.

He sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. You resolutely stayed facing the sink, washing a now clean dish, waiting for a response that may not come.

“I...I know it was R. I know it was. But I just...I can’t stop the self-loathing I feel,” he said so quietly, you barely heard him over the water in the sink.

Slowly, you turned the water off, then turned to face him. “I know. It took me months to not hate myself. To not blame myself.”

Sonny took a deep breath, then rubbed his eyes. “I never asked; how are you?”

You knew he didn’t mean in general. “I was very sore and exhausted the first week. I was stuck in a downward spiral. But the thing about hitting rock bottom is that you can only go up.” You sighed. “I’m doing better. I doubt I’ll ever be 100% me again. But I’m working every day to get closer.”

He nodded, thinking. “See, I feel like I hit rock bottom, then grabbed a shovel. I’m still fighting to get back to rock bottom.”

“Well, just know that I do not blame you in any way. All the anger and hatred I felt was directed at myself,” you huffed out an emotionless chuckle. “In fact, you hardly came up in my therapy sessions at all. Just that I hated myself for doing that to you.”

Sonny stood then, bringing his own dishes into the kitchen. “I never blamed you, either; still don’t. I—I guess because I’m bigger and because I was...on top, I blame myself instead. I didn’t even consider the fact that you got drugged, too....”

“That’s the thing; I know you. And I know myself. Neither of us...that wouldn’t have happened without outside forces making us do it. Like I said, I trust you with my life, Sonny. And while I understand why you turned your badge in, I really would like my partner back one day,” you said, hope tinging your voice.

He reached past you to put his plate in the sink, and you gazed up at him. This was the closest you’ve been since that night in the club, his face inches from yours, bright blue eyes boring into your own. For a moment, it was like nothing had happened. You could pretend that you were in Sonny’s Manhattan apartment, having just finished dinner he made, Love Island playing on his TV. But then reality set in, and Sonny backed away from you, a look of guilt in his eyes.

“M—maybe one day. But I’m not sure I want to go back to that line of work yet,” he muttered, looking at the floor.

You nodded. “I understand—” you were cut off by a loud clap of thunder, sounding directly above you. You dropped the plate you were rinsing off into the sink, the clatter loud in the shocked silence.

Sonny looked from the ceiling to you, saw your petrified look. He knew you hated storms, would often get a call at 1am from you, asking to come over when a thunderstorm rolled in. When he saw you on the streets of Genoa, he didn’t connect that Italy had some of the most intense thunderstorms in the world.

“Hey, it’s okay; I’m here,” he murmured out of instinct; the words he would say back home to you.

You were trembling, tears in your eyes. “S-Sonny, I—”

Another loud rumbling resounded through the apartment, and he saw you shrink in on yourself, slowly dropping to the floor, curling around your legs. You tucked your face against your knees, shaking with quiet sobs. He came over to you, kneeling in front of you. Normally, he’d wrap you tightly in his arms, whispering to you that you were safe. But now, he was afraid to touch you.

“Dominick, I trust you with my life,” he remembered you saying, with no hesitation. Swallowing the thoughts propelled by self-loathing, he placed a hand on your shoulder. He knew he wouldn’t assault you, wouldn’t do anything without your consent, so why the hell was he hesitating when you needed him?

“Come on; let’s get you into bed, okay?” Sonny whispered to you. You nodded without looking up. Gently, he unfolded your limbs, helping you to your feet. He had been planning to sleep on the couch, give you his bed. Now, though, he was leading you to his bedroom quickly, trying to make it before more thunder sounded.

He got you into his bed just as another clap of thunder shook the walls. You pulled the covers over your head, tucking down as hard as possible into the bed. Sonny climbed into bed next to you, laying on top of the covers. Gently, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back against him. He could feel you trembling, the whole bed shaking. What else could he do besides what he normally did?

“It’s okay; you’re safe. I got you,” he whispered, rubbing your arm over the blanket. You rolled over until you were facing him, and curled in against his chest. Sonny stiffened for only a moment before relaxing in the familiar position.

“I hate storms,” you choked out, tucking your face into his shirt.

He rubbed your back in comfort. “I know you do. It’ll be gone soon enough.”

But unlike Manhattan, where that may be true, thunderstorms in Genoa lasted hours. Simply because you didn’t sleep the night before, you were able to drift off in Sonny’s embrace. You’d jerk awake every time a clap of thunder was heard, though, shaking and sobbing softly as he murmured sweet words to you before succumbing to sleep again.

Sonny, however, didn’t sleep a wink. He was too lost in thought, holding you to him. You trusted him enough to sleep in the same bed, his arms around you, even after everything that happened. You didn’t blame him, felt no hatred towards him. And while most of his problem stemmed from his own self-hatred, he was always afraid that you felt the same way about him. And he couldn’t deal with that, couldn’t stand it. Not when he—

He almost said it out on the street earlier, when you asked him if he hated you. He almost told you that he loved you, had come so close. In fact, he was planning on asking you out after work that day. The day that changed his life forever, and not in the way he had been hoping. If only Liv hadn’t called you both into her office that day, then maybe there would still be a chance....

But he could never tell you, not now. How would you even begin a relationship after this? He was too afraid to even touch you, for Christ’s sake. Though, that was before the thunderstorm started. Now, you were curled against his chest, your trembling stopped for the moment, breathing deep as you slept. His arms were around you, and god he loved it, loved the feeling of you sleeping in his arms, whether from a storm or not. This wasn’t the first time he held you throughout the night, and he loved it every time, regardless of circumstances. But how could anything evolve from this? How could he kiss you? How could you be...intimate together without the memory of the club popping up in either of your minds?

A small part of him whispered that if he could get over his fear of touching you—evident by the cuddling—then he could overcome his other fears, too. But would you want that? Did he?.... Yes, yes he wanted that very much. He wanted to be able to love you without fear and/or guilt in his heart. Before the club, he had thought that his biggest obstacle would be 1PP. Oh how ignorant he had been.

He resolved that he wouldn’t tell you, not now, maybe not ever. He couldn’t, not when this darkness was still inside his head, not when his hatred for himself was so high—

Thunder rolled out, and you jumped, instantly waking. The trembling started again, and you grabbed Sonny’s shirt, pulling him closer to you.

“I got you. You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered to you.

But for the first time ever, you responded. “You make me feel safe, Dom,” you muttered back.

At first, he was filled with such a profound warmth and happiness, feeling protective and strong. But then a flash of your face, beet red, your body moving erratically underneath his while loud club music played, and he sunk in on himself. He felt like such an asshole, such a coward, holding you like this. He should’ve left you on the streets in Genoa, closed himself off. Or at least offer to put you up in a hotel or a hostile, not fucking take you home with him. He hated that side of him that couldn’t let you go, almost as much as the hatred of that night in the club.

“What’s wrong?” you asked suddenly. You were still shaking in his grasp, but you noticed he was deep in thought. He had stopped talking, and was humming slightly. Sonny only hummed when he was thinking hard. He didn’t respond right away, unsure of what he’d even say. So, you pressed on, “need me to comfort you?”

Sonny’s expression softened. Here you were, scared out of your mind, but still offering him help. This is one of the main reasons he loved you. “No, I’m fine. Just sleep, okay?” he murmured.

Without thinking about it, he brushed his lips against your forehead, giving you a gentle kiss. You smiled at the gesture, tucking your head against his chest again, quickly finding sleep once more.

But Sonny was silently cursing himself. Why the hell did you kiss her?! he thought in anguish. In truth, he didn’t think, just reacted. He often kissed your forehead in comfort, trying to coax you to sleep. It seemed as if when he turned his brain off, he could rely on instinct, doing things he normally did. But that nagging side of his brain never left him alone for long. Things he used to do that brought him joy, like holding you or kissing your soft skin, now filled him with regret. How was he supposed to move on and leave you behind in New York when he did shit like this?

He sighed, glancing at his clock and seeing that it was only a little past 1am. This was going to be a long night. And he still wasn’t sure what to say to you in the morning.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//this is me trying

Request: Can I request a season 1 cheryl x reader. Cheryl always protects reader from people and r is shy but falls in love with the redhead and some who’s accidentally tells her while she’s having a bad day but cheryl is quick to reassure her then they cuddle after going to pops or something and it’s just fluffy.

hey! happy valentines day gays! and get you, two imagines in one day, it must be the day of love. i hope you all like this because it’s really fluffy and i enjoyed writing this a lot!

Overnight, Riverdale became a shell of its former self. Two months since Kevin Keller and Moose Mason stumbled upon the body of Jason Blossom, and nobody has been the same since. 

The town is riddled with secrets, they’re slowly destroying it like a disease. Nobody trusts anybody anymore, everyone is on high alert, and everyone is a suspect. 

Cheryl usually loves being the centre of attention, she has done ever she was a kid. It’s something that comes naturally with being a twin, you share everything and as much as she loves loved the shared birthdays and friends, she has always loved being the centre of attention.

Now however, she hates it. Her life is a true crime documentary at the minute, and all she wants is for the killer to be caught so the crew can pack up and leave and she no longer has to stare down at the blinding lights being cast over her and her family. 

The only thing that’s kept her sane over the past two months, is you. Despite everything happening, despite the murder and the secrets and the suspicion, you’ve stuck by her side. You were with her when they found the body, and you haven’t really left since. 

The two of you are unlikely friends, she’s Cheryl. Bright and bold and never one to back down from confrontation. But you’re Y/n, sweet and shy and always the first to shrink away from any sort of attention directed at you. 

She knows you hate the constant attention recently, it’s something you get used when you’re best friends with the victim’s sister, but not once have you complained. 

You’ve being questioned by police, journalists and strangers on the internet. You’ve had camera’s shoved in your face on your walk back from school and been asked countless questions about what you know about the Blossom’s. And you’ve also been offered ridiculous amounts of money in order to talk. But no matter what happens, you always just rush past them and join Cheryl, who’s always waiting for you with a sad smile and warm hand. 

Due to the constant hoard of vultures swarming Riverdale High, the two of you had to figure out somewhere else to meet after school so you could walk the long way home. It adds twenty minutes to your walk, but it’s not that well known around town, meaning people can’t bother you. 

Plus, the extra twenty minutes that you get to spend with Cheryl isn’t the worst thing. It’s the opposite in fact. It’s the thing you look forward to, even if you are looking over your shoulder every so often 

But today you’re not at your meeting spot. 

When Cheryl pushes her way through the stares of her fellow students with you and only you on her mind and makes her way through the school basement, back up the stairs and out of the fire exit, you’re not waiting for her with a smile that makes her feel warm and a cold slice of pizza you snuck out of the cafe earlier. 

The only thing waiting for her is a full bin and an empty field. 

“Y/n?” She calls out and looks around the corner. She’s met with three seniors, all of which are smoking with absolutely no care for being caught. 

“She’s not here.” One of them says, her blonde hair and large glasses cover half of her face and Cheryl forces a smile. 

“Hey, Blossom.” A boy says and Cheryl freezes. Who knows what they want, but whatever it is, it probably won’t be nice. It’ll probably be something along the lines of ‘hey, did you kill your brother’ and no matter how many times she’s asked that, it doesn’t get any easier. “Maybe try the bleachers.” He says, ending his sentence with a sympathetic smile and Cheryl nods slowly, not really sure what to say. 

“Thanks.” She forces and spins on her heel. 

“We’re sorry about your brother, Cheryl.” The blonde one says and she turns around again. Each of them look sad, with matching frowns and sorrow swimming in their eyes. 

Jason meant the world to Cheryl, but he also meant a hell of a lot to other people too. And that’s when it hits her. Of course you’re at the bleachers. 

For some bizarre reason, only known by your father. You and your family used to come along every other week to watch the Bulldogs play. For a while you thought it was because your dad was trying to get you and your brother into football and this was a lot cheaper than the actual game, but the older you got the more you figured it was because he was just trying to relive his youth. For 90 minutes he could pretend that he was quarterback again and for those 90 minutes your dad would be the happiest he’d been all week. 

Then one week, a redhead sat beside you. In clothes that were far too expensive to be worn to a high school football game. Her parents looked like they wanted to be there as much as she did, but then a boy with matching red hair ran out on to the pitch and you’d never seen a smile quite like it. 

After that, you made sure to sit beside her at every game. And then one day she sat opposite you at lunch. The first few times she was alone, but then soon she began to appear with a group of other girls, but you were the only one she’d talk to. 

Eventually lunch times and football games turned into group projects and sleepovers. You spend hours braiding her hair and listening to her tell you stories of other worlds and the creatures that live in them. You’d sneak down the dark and creepy halls of Thornhill in hopes of finding a midnight snack, and instead be met by Jason and your older brother in clown masks. 

Eventually, you found a different way to get to the kitchen, one that Jason didn’t know about. And when he’d come looking for you, both of you would jump out  and chase him around the house, much to the dismay of Penelope and Clifford. 

Those bleachers are what started a whole friendship, not only between you and her, but also you and Jason. When you’re brother eventually made the team, thanks to a good word put in my Jason, despite him being a year younger. Him and Jason became as inseparable as you and Cheryl and so it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the four of you hanging out. It also meant that if Cheryl was busy, you and Jason would hang out until she finished whatever she was doing. 

Grief is a hell of a lonely thing, and sometimes Cheryl forgets that other people miss Jason too. With everything going on, she didn’t even think about how you were doing. With all the questions, accusations and crying that constantly fills Cheryl’s house. She never even asked how you were. 

And now her legs can’t carry her quick enough to were she hopes your sat. Because she’s already lost her brother, she can’t lose you too. She wobbles as her heels dig into the dirt, kicking up dust and mud as she runs across the field. Her hair swings behind her, and she can feel the red scrunchie loosen the quicker she runs. 

The bleachers have all sorts carved into them. Initials in hearts, some of them still there, some of them crossed out so aggressively that it’s a miracle they didn’t chop it in half. There’s inside jokes and ridiculous rumours. Codes and dates and everything in between. 

But something new has been added in the past few days. 

cheryl murdered jason

and y/n helped

The writing is small and barely legible, but it’s there and the more you run your fingers over it the more it carves itself into your heart. 

“Y/n?” Cheryl pants breathlessly and you quickly pull yourself away from it. Instead you stand up properly and pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands. The y/f/c scrunchie remains still in your hair and Cheryl has to stare at it for a few seconds to calm herself down. “You weren’t at our spot.” She says quietly and you close your eyes. 

You let her down. You let her down. You always let her down.  

“Sorry Cheryl.” You sigh and sit down in the dirt. Cheryl looks around before sitting beside you. “I just wanted some space.” You add and force yourself to look at her. 

The sun sits behind her, but even that doesn’t seem as bright as it used to be. Nothing is what it used to be. For the past two months, you’ve been told that thats a good thing. But what’s good about someone you loved being dead. What’s good about watching someone else you love go through life but not really live. 

Cheryl just exists. 

But she exists for you. 

Because as lost as she would be without you, she knows you would be just as lost without her. 

It’s an unspoken rule now, you always text each other when you wake up and before you go to sleep. It’s something you used to do anyway, but now you make a point not to forget. Because forgetting means that the worst could have happened, and that’s something neither of you can bare to deal with. 

“I get it.” She nods. “I was just worried that’s all.” She adds, trying to sound as casual as she can. But on the inside she’s screaming. Because she thought you had died, she thought whoever had killed Jason had gotten to you too, and the whole reason you’re both dead is because she wronged the wrong person. 

There’s a lot of people that don’t like Cheryl, being unliked comes naturally to her. But she doesn’t know how she’ll cope if she’s so unlikeable someone she loves died. 

She has no idea why your friends with her to be honest. She saw you staring at her at a football game once. But it wasn’t a stare she was used to. It wasn’t cold like her mothers or jealous like her friends. No, this was nice. You were staring at her like you wanted to know about her, like when you looked at her, you saw a friend not someone to be feared. 

And so Cheryl clung onto the tiny hint of friendship, the crack of a door into something that could happen, and she shoved herself through it. It worked, and now you’re the only person she’s nice to. She’s mean to everyone else, she calls them names and teases them, especially when they’re rude to you...but you stay. And she has no idea why, but she’s not going to wish it away. 

“Shit, sorry Cheryl.” You drop your head into your hands and Cheryl looks at you confused. She looks around, not really sure of what to do. “I didn’t think, God knows what you thought had happened.” You ramble and she realizes you’re crying. Her eyes widen and you look at her, your eyes red and puffed and your lips pulls into frown. 

“It’s okay.” She replies and wraps her arms around you. You bury your head into her neck, the smell of maple and cherries invade your senses and you let out a shaky breath. 

It smells like home and happier times, and you want to crawl into those happy memories and never come back out. “I was just being ridiculous.” She tries to play it off, to make it seem like she couldn’t feel her heartbeat in her throat and the ringing in her ears. Pretend like it didn’t feel like someone had pulled her heart out and stamped on it. 

“No, no you weren’t. I’m really sorry.” You sob and wrap your arms around her. She falls into your neck, surprised but not upset with how tight you’re holding her. She never wants you to let go. But of course she has to, and so however reluctant, she untangles herself from you and lets out a deep sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffle. She hands you a tissue and you wipe your eyes with it before scrunching it up in your hand. “I’ve just had a rubbish day. Somebody shoved this in my locker.” You frown and pull a balled up piece of paper out of your pocket. 

Cheryl’s eyebrows knit in confusion as she takes it from you, her fingers graze yours and you freeze for a few seconds. 

who do you think did it? 

cheryl __

y/n __

Jamie __

“Why is your brother on here?” Cheryl asks, her voice rising with each word and you rest your hand on top of hers to calm her down. 

“I dunno.” You shrug. “Your parents are on there too.” You add and point further down the page. 

“What a bunch of dicks.” She grumbles and crumples it up. “Do you know who it was?” You shrug and she sighs. 

“I’ve just gotten tired of the staring and the whispers. So I thought I’d just have five minutes peace before going home and having to listen to Jamie cry in his room but pretend he’s okay. Or for my parents to walk on eggshells around both of us. Neither of them know what to say, and because of that they keep saying the wrong thing.” You ramble and she listens intently, trying her best to find a resolution to all of your problems. 

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know the answer to everything, no matter what her mom says. 

“I just thought five minutes by myself can’t be terrible. But then I came down here and someone carve-well it doesn’t matter what they wrote. What matters is that I made you worry at the worst possible time in your life. I hurt you, and I’m really sorry. Believe me, hurting you is the last thing I want to do you. I feel sick even just thinking about it. I never, ever want to hurt you. I love you too much. I love you more that I’ve ever loved anything or anyone ever. I just love yo-” Your eyes widen when you realize what you’ve just admitted to. 

You don’t want to look at her, but she hasn’t said anything in a while and that’s strange for her. So you force yourself to look at her, expecting the worst. Expecting disgust, disappointment, betrayal. But it’s none of those. 

Instead she’s smiling. And she looks actually happy. Something you haven’t seen in so long, something you’re glad to see, despite the circumstances. 

Oh yeah, you’ve just told her you’re in love with her. What do you say after that? 

“I-er-”

“Y/n?” She cuts you off before you get the chance to ruin the moment. She’s known you for long enough to know that when you get nervous, you ramble and when you ramble you say weird things. 

You’re grateful for her cutting you off, usually if she talks over you, it annoys the hell out of you. But this time it’s welcomed and she stifles a small laugh and the sigh of relief you let out. 

But the next thing she says is something that you weren’t expecting, but you’re sure as hell grateful for. 

“Would you like to go on a date?” 

---

The red lights from outside, illuminate Cheryl’s pale face in the night, painting her in a reddish hue and you find yourself staring at her for far longer than would be considered normal. 

Lucky for you, she hasn’t noticed. She doesn’t seem to be paying attention to anything, not really anyway. Instead she stares down at her food, pushing a few fries around the plate and anxiety rises in your chest. 

She’s already regretting doing this. She’s made a mistake and now she doesn’t know how to let you down gently. 

She seems to sense you nerves because she’s looking at you quickly, a sad smile twitching at her lips.

“Sorry, I just. Jason always used to tease me about the two of us. It’s the only thing we’d take about sometimes. He’d constantly ask me if I’d asked you out yet. And every time I would say ‘no, we’re just friends’ but, well neither of us really believed that.” She says, a small laugh escapes her lips near the end, but she quickly shuts it off. It’s too soon for her to be laughing, too soon for her to be happy. 

“Yeah.” You nod and finish your drink. “He used to tease me too. ‘if you don’t tell her, I’ll do it myself’.” You mimic his voice and a ghost of a smile twitches at her lips as she forces herself to look at you. “I am really glad you did ask me though.” Your voice shakes a little with nerves and Cheryl stares at you confused. “I do really like you Cheryl.” 

“I really like you too.” She smiles softly and you stare at her lips. Sometimes you think the red lipstick has permanently stained her lips cherry red. Even when you guys are a sleepover, she still has bright red lips and the other part of you wonders if that’s just what they look like. 

“Hey.” You start and a sly smile twitches at your lips as you remember an old memory. She leans forward, excited to know what you’re smiling about. 

It could literally be anything, from a musty old book she let you borrow from the Thornhill archive, to a new tv show you started to watch. But whatever it is, she’s excited to hear you talk about it. 

“Can you remember last year. It was Jamie’s 16th birthday and you and Jason were invited over. Jason was there because him and Jamie were planning on sneaking out later that night, and you tagged along so you could keep me company.” You start and she smiles at the memory. 

The four of you sat in the living room, while your mom brought cake and your dad sang ‘happy birthday’. Cheryl remembers how happy she was, and she remembers talking to Jason afterwards, the two of them whispering and wondering if that was what a normal family was supposed to look like. 

You, Cheryl and Jason had each pitched in for the record player he wanted. And even though you all knew that just Cheryl alone could have been able to buy him it if she really wanted, you knew they split it for you. 

Jamie was ecstatic when he opened the box, and then all of the records you’d bought to go with it. He’d played it every single day since getting it, but now you haven’t heard it in months.

“Yeah.” She nods, a sad smiling taking over he face. “Can you remember when Jason pushed his face into the cake.” She adds making you snort a laugh. 

The bell above Pop’s rings and Betty and Archie walk in. They send you a sympathetic smile before sitting at their own booth, and you and Cheryl share a look. 

“Would you like another one?” You point at her milkshake and she nods, smiling shyly. 

---

The walk home is over far too soon, and it’s only when you’re standing on your porch do you realize you took the normal way home by accident. Either the media has gone to sleep, or people are starting to forget about Jason and Riverdale. 

That thought makes you frown and Cheryl watches your expression falter before you look back at her again. 

“Thank you for walking me home.” You smile shyly and a nervous laugh escapes her lips. 

“It’s no problem.” She shrugs and the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds longer than normal. She’s about to leave when you grab her hand and spin her around to face you. 

She’s surprised for a second, until suddenly she feels a pair of lips on hers, and then the only thing she can feel is them. Everything else disappears, and though the kiss is short and a little awkward, it’s still perfect. 

“Would you like to come in?” You ask and motion your head to large wooden door. The pain is chipped around the metal numbers, something your mom has nagged your dad about for the past 6 months. “We still have the rest of y/f/s to watch.” 

“I’d love to.” She nods and the two of you grin at each other. “But seriously, how many times have you seen that now?” 

“It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it.” You unlock the front door, giving it a quick kick before you stumble through it. “What matters is that this is the first time you’re seeing it.” You add and she rolls her eyes but follows you up the stairs anyway. 

The sun sets over another day in Riverdale and darkness floods the town. The streets are cold and scary, but wrapped in your duvet and Cheryl’s arms, you’ve never felt warmer. 

[onlyanidala]

onlyanidala fic archive

These are fics with titles J-P.

A-D     E-I     R-T     U-Z

searchable desktop version available here

more anidala fics can also be found in our fic tag!

the link for each fic can be found by clicking the title!

Title: just a bliss Author:  stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  A lightheaded Anakin Skywalker wakes up to the heavenly vision that is Padmé Amidala. Can you blame the man for wanting to kiss his wife on the spot? Well you can, when the whole thing is witnessed by a room full of senators caught in a hostage situation... and she'd really rather they had waited for later.

Title: just carry me home tonight Author: gemma Status: complete Rating: R Summary:  "I – I didn't mean to, it's only that… Well, the Force, it lets me feel… What you feel, and I know this wasn't exactly what you imagined for your wedding night, so I…" His flesh hand rose to scratch his neck awkwardly, "I suppose I just wanted to make this special for you…"

Title: king of my heart Author:  catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  Anakin Skywalker's holiday to the small country of Naboo takes an unexpected turn when he unknowingly foils an assassination attempt meant for Padmé Naberrie, the nation's Crown Princess. Saving a Princess is crazy enough. The only thing crazier... well, actually, there are a few things. Things Anakin is well on his way to experiencing.

Title: lights in the valley outshine the sun Author: elizabeth7 Status: complete Rating: G Summary:  What would happen if Padme survived and Darth Vader finds out? Padme & Anakin Darth Vader.

Title: look into my eyes it’s where my demons hide Author: shelivesfree Status: WIP/Unupdated Rating: T Summary:  Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him.

Title: lost Author: pinkeastereggs Status: complete Rating: G Summary:  “I feel lost." “Lost . . . what do you mean?” Padme couldn’t help but frown, searching for any signs on her husband’s face that could give her an insight to what he meant. But Anakin was just frowning to the side, seeming conflicted about something. He seemed distant, his eyes filled with an emotion that the young wife couldn’t begin to describe. How long had Anakin had this look in his eyes? Had she been oblivious to it before now or was this something new? Anakin and Padme have a heart-to-heart when he admits to feeling lost and frustrated with the Jedi Council. With truths about his relationship with Palpatine coming to light, Padme fights to talk some sense into her husband.

Title: madam president Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: R Summary:  Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.

Title: make the world a little colorful Author: estrangedlestrange Status: WIP Rating: G Summary:  The morning after meeting her soulmate, Padmé woke up and saw color for the first time. In the midst of a political crisis, Padmé had just met a gungan, two Jedi, and a slave boy and his mother. She, like any rational young woman, assumed the padawan learner was her soulmate. Ten years later, after having accepted that she would never be with her soulmate, Padmé, reunited with both her supposed soulmate and the slave boy, she realized how wrong her assumptions were. The slave boy, Anakin, who had looked at her with wide hopeful eyes and asked if she was an angel, was her soulmate.

Title: the masterplan Author: stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  In the midst of the endless galactic conflict, Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala have made a shocking discovery that brings more questions than answers. And maybe, just maybe, an end to the never-ending war. Sequel to Give Me A Signal.

Title: mother knows best Author:  catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary:  A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.... Shmi Skywalker Palpatine had ruled the Galactic Empire on behalf of her son, Anakin, since the death of his father. For his part, the next Emperor has been content to leave politics to his mother and engage only in military exercises. All that is about to change as Padmé Naberrie, former Queen of Naboo, comes seeking aid for her charity, Amidala's Crusade, and Anakin's long-dormant crush comes surging back. What should be a perfect match is opposed by a mother determined not to lose her son and convinced hers is the only way...

Title: no colors in our skin Author:  JTHM_Michi Status: Abandoned Rating: T Summary:  Anakin grew up knowing that his masters called him the wrong words. They all called him “girl” or “girl-child” and it was just another way for them to dehumanize him. He didn’t know that, of course, not in those words, but it was true enough. His mother was always very clear with him, from the first time he came to her and asked her if she knew which master had taken his “boy parts”, that just because his masters called him a girl didn’t make him one. a.k.a. the Transgender Anakin Skywalker Verse

Title: no heroes on the high seas Author: spellcleaver Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  When Luke's aunt and uncle are executed by order of the Emperor's right hand, Lord Vader, he flees his home to search for his sister and the mother he never knew. But then Obi-Wan Kenobi stows away aboard the same ship, Vader gives chase, and Luke is dragged into a conflict that his family are at the very heart of. Gen.

Title: nos cedamus amori Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: M Summary:  Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.

Title: of mutated worlds Author: gemma Status: WIP Rating: M Summary:  Nobody saw the end of the world coming. It happened overnight, no warning, no escape. They came from the shadows, biting, paralysing, and killing little by little until they were the majority. One day, everything was normal and then, suddenly, Padme Amidala Naberrie woke up in hell.

Title: of options and comlinks Author: estrangedlestrange Status: complete Rating: G Summary:  In that moment it seemed like there were only two options: help Master Windu arrest the Chancellor and secret Sith Lord or heed to Sheev Palpatine’s begging and turn against the Jedi. But then, in a split second, a third option revealed itself.

Title: order 66-S Author: disco shop girl Status: complete Rating: M Summary:  The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.

Title: parent-teacher conference Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary:  Anakin has to meet with the twins' second grade teacher after Leia punches a classmate in the face. But he hadn't counted on Ms. Amidala being quite so pretty.

Title: pas de deux Author:  catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary:  When Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker meet at their mutual friends' house party, the sparks immediately fly, resulting in a one night stand that both of them want to be the start of something more. Except it turns out that Padmé works at the ballet company Anakin just took over. And Anakin is in the middle of a very heated divorce as he tries to gain custody of his daughter Leia. With pressure coming at them from their private and professional lives, making their fledgling relationship work will prove the biggest role of a lifetime.

Title: the path of the dark Author:  catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  Vader triumphs. Padmé resists. Series:Three Paths Not Followed. Series: The Darker Path.

Title: perfect Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary:  The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.

Title: perfect strangers Author:  catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: R Summary:  Anakin Skywalker meets a masked angel at a Halloween costume ball, and the two of them hook up for the best night of his life. But when the morning comes, she is nowhere to be found. Padmé Amidala forgot to get the name of a guy she hooked up with at Halloween before running out for work on November 1. A few weeks later, she realizes she's pregnant. Two perfect strangers, certain their paths are never going to cross again. Oops.

Title: pipe dream Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.

Title: pocket full of sand Author: philthestone Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  “I’m Leia Skywalker,” she says, and there is something unfathomably life-changing about that little declaration. “We’re here to rescue you!” Luke remembers the circumstances of his mother's arrest with a frustrating amount of clarity. AU series where Anakin never falls, Padme is a spy in the senate, and the dynamic duo of Force Sensitive twins don't know they're related.

Title: purgatory Author: helent Status: complete Rating: T Summary:  A newly dead Anakin Skywalker wakes in a new world - given the appearance of his 23 year-old self. However, the self-sacrifice that ended his life has also given Anakin an unexpected boon that he isn't sure he can accept. Worse, it comes with conditions that might just be impossible to meet. A moment of redemption is one thing, but a full reformation another entirely.

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg i honestly didn't think it would get this far (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

Heads Up- Part 4 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Jojo! Wake up!" Caesar yelled from a neighboring tabletop in Joseph's room.

"Alright, alright," he groaned, groggily. "You make such a great alarm clock," he laughed, as he rubbed his eyes and stretched out with a yawn.

It had been four days now since Caesar first came alive, and Joseph was surprised how quickly the living artwork had just sort of become part of everyday life. Somehow, even a talking lump of painted clay very quickly assimilated into his "normal"-- if anything could even be considered normal anymore in this situation.

Joseph stood up and began to plod lazily to the kitchen for breakfast, but was stopped by an angry shout.

"HEY! Are you forgetting something?" yelled Caesar from his bedside table.

"Ok, I'm sorry, clay boy!" Joseph grumbled crankily in response, stomping over to the table. Hell hath no fury than a sleepless artist without his morning coffee.

Caesar was quite heavy, being made of dense clay, and Joseph struggled to lower him down to the floor. As Caesar could only jump a few inches at a time, it had become a regular routine for Joseph to lift and lower him onto tables and platforms, as he was completely helpless when placed high off the floor.

"There, happy now?" Joseph groaned, as he lumbered off to the kitchen. Caesar bounced his way after him, cursing under his breath about Joseph's long striding legs that made it hard for the bust to keep up.

As Joseph poured and stirred his morning coffee, Caesar impatiently hopped about the kitchen floor. "Don't tell me you're gonna place me onto the table again."

Joseph smiled between sips. "Alright, you've been through a lot already. Perhaps it's my turn to go down to your level." Bending down, he set his cup gently on the floor, and sat down cross-legged on the wooden kitchen floor, leaning his back against the wall.

Creator and creation sat side-by-side having breakfast-- a surreal scene that was now a part of Joseph's every morning. As he took another sip, Joseph absent-mindedly offered Caesar some of his coffee.

"Want a taste? It's brewed." he asked.

"I am a clay bust," Caesar reminded him. "I don't drink."

"Oh yeah, sorry. Suit yourself then," Joseph said, taking another sip of the hot, fragrant liquid.

A thought crossed Joseph's curious mind. "Say, Caesar, what's it like being a bust? Do you feel any needs? Hungry, thirsty, bathroom, tiredness?"

Caesar pondered for a moment. "Hungry and thirsty? Certainly not. Though I do feel sleepy at times. And bathroom, forget about it." Joseph giggled.

"You're such a mysterious creature, Caesar," he said. "And that's coming from someone who made you."

Caesar sighed --somehow, as he didn't seem to breathe, yet could speak.

"I don't know how I work, or why," he said, somewhat exasperated, "and I'm not sure how I'm even alive in the first place. Yet I'm glad I am, somehow. I guess life as a bouncing head is better than no life at all."

Joseph gently stroked Caesar's nub of a shoulder.

There was a knock on the door. "Jojo! Caesar! It's me again!"

"Gimme a sec, Suzi!" Joseph called back, gulping the last of his coffee and placing it on the sink. He went over to the door, and was once again greeted with the usual cheerful smile.

"Oh great," Caesar groaned, bouncing his way over to the living room. "It's her again."

Suzi entered the house, but Joseph blocked her. "Wait. You swear nobody else knows about Caesar? Just us?"

"He's our little secret," she replied with a wink. With a sigh of relief Joseph allowed her to enter, locking the door behind her.

"Hello Caesar!" she greeted the bust, stooping down and playfully tapping his nose as a welcoming gesture, to his visible annoyance.

"Why are you here again?" demanded the bust. "Here to handle me again? Cause I don't like it."

"About that..." Joseph said uneasily.

"You see, Caesar, I've got classes to attend every week. I'm gonna have to head to university today to pass my assignments, and since I can't leave you alone...I've arranged for her to stay over today!"

"Great, you hired a babysitter," Caesar whined sarcastically. "I'd clap if I had hands."

"Don't worry, it'll be fun!" Suzi said, taking off her backpack and placing it on the floor. "Joseph told me he sees you're very bored, stuck in the house all day with nothing to do, so I figured I'd try doing some activities with you to pass the time."

------

With Joseph away for the afternoon, it was only Suzi and Caesar in the house. She'd brought some books, a few toy blocks, and colored pencils and paper, which she spread all over the living room floor.

"What can you do with those lips of yours?" Suzi asked Caesar.

"Pretty much everything," Caesar said. "I don't have any arms or hands, so I'm pretty much forced to do all the picking up and holding things with my mouth. Thank Joseph for sculpting these lovely, flexible lips," he huffed, somewhat amused.

Suzi smiled, picking up a sheet of paper. "You could perhaps work on your dexterity! I figured you should try practicing some fun activities to improve your skills!"

"Anything," Caesar moaned. "It's been very dull here."

Caesar's first activity was learning how to write and draw. Bending over as low as he could without falling on his face, he awkwardly picked up one of the pencils in his mouth. He hopped closer to the paper, which Suzi had propped up vertically against a clipboard, and slowly, cautiously brought the point closer to the paper.

"There you go", Suzi encouraged, sitting beside him. "And now...gently press the tip to the paper."

"Mrrph hrr shr ymm ehh?" Caesar mumbled incoherently with the pencil in his mouth.

Suzi laughed. "You can't talk when you're holding something, huh. Don't worry, you're doing great, just carefully hold the pencil."

With a great deal of effort Caesar tried to write his own name. It was a bit of a challenge trying to gauge how much pressure he had to apply to the pencil, as he couldn't figure out how hard to press the point.

*SNAP!* The pencil point snapped off as Caesar pressed too hard. Frustrated, Caesar spat out the broken pencil onto the floor.

"Damn it!" Caesar yelled, pressing his forehead against the paper in complete vexation.

"Ok, ok, don't be mad," Suzi reassured. "Here, have another pencil," she said, gently placing another, sharpened pencil in Caesar's mouth. "It won't hurt to try again."

------

"I'm hoooome!" Joseph called out from the door, as he entered the front door. It was already night time by the time he returned, with the evening sky graced by a bright quarter moon.

"Jojo! You're back!" Suzi said excitedly. "I've been waiting so long for you!"

"Why?" said Joseph, with a hint of concern. "How's Caesar?"

"Oh, he has a little surprise to show you," she replied, tugging urgently on his arm.

She led Joseph into the living room, where Caesar sat on the floor next to a piece of paper on a clipboard. On it were a few scribbles, almost like a toddler's drawings, and on the top, scrawled in illegible, wiggly handwriting --or rather, mouthwriting-- were the letters, C-A-E-S-A-R, with each letter a different color.

Joseph couldn't hold back a smile. It felt oddly flattering that his artwork...was creating his own artwork. An art-ception, perhaps.

"I love the colors," Joseph complimented.

"Only because my pencil broke with every letter," Caesar complained.

"He's been learning very quickly, I've been teaching him how to use his mouth to do things! He may just be a head, but he's come pretty far in figuring out how to get tasks done on his own," Suzi explained, almost like a kindergarten teacher meeting with a student's parent.

Caesar smiled at her. She may have been quite intimidating, even frightening, when she first met him, but he'd gradually warmed up to her as the day went on.

"Say, Caesar," grinned Joseph, reaching into a paper bag he had brought home. "I've got a surprise of my own for you!" He pulled out a small, fancy hat and a bowtie, which he proudly showed off to his clay creation. Caesar recoiled at the sight.

"What...the hell are those?" he groaned.

"Suzi said you were, uhm, naked, so I figured I ought to get you dressed up," Joseph smirked.

"I don't even have a body to expose!" Caesar tried to rationalize.

He grumbled irately as Joseph lifted him up onto the living room table, placing the hat gently onto his head, careful not to ruin the clay spikes of his hair. He then tied the bowtie around Caesar's neck, with a customized collar that covered up the bare portions of his flesh-colored bare torso.

"I look ridiculous, Jojo," Caesar groaned, as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. But without hands, there was no way he could take off his new, fancy accessories, and was resigned to abide with his fashion choice.

"I think it looks handsome on you," Suzi assured with an awkward smile.

Caesar looked back at his reflection, decked out in whatever little clothing he could wear. And as silly as he felt, he couldn't help but also feel a bit grateful.

"Say, Suzi, what are you up to today?" Joseph quipped.

"I hadn't been doing much, really. I graduated a year ahead of you, so I'm pretty much vacant these days," she sighed.

"You don't suppose you could visit more?" Joseph requested. "I'm sure Caesar would appreciate the company."

"I live just a few blocks down the road!" Suzi replied, grinning brightly. "I wouldn't mind staying overnight every now and then!"

"Alright!" Joseph cheered, pumping his fists in joy. "Won't you like that, Cae? Getting to hang out with friends?"

"Friends," mumbled Caesar with a tip of his head, as a smile crept across his smooth, clay face.

"I would love that very much indeed."

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

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[fizzingwizard]

Alright alright alright digimon adventure: episode 21, go!!! Last week I was interested to see if the pretty vague ep 21 preview was gonna be a mostly dull fight type filler ep or if the reason for the vagueness was there was too much plotty stuff going on for them to reveal. It’s the latter, I’m happy to say!

It was really cool!! There was a lot of good stuff so YAY! Anything I write here will be a spoiler but let’s just say that T is a very important letter in the alphabet! multiple Ts, in fact!!

Cap of the day: my boy being AWESOME

Let’s get to it! under the cut as usual

Now last week’s episode was A LOT. We rescued Takeru who no one even knew needed rescuing, gained and then immediately lost the Holy Digimon, got him back in the form of a digi-egg, and then immediately lost THAT too. Honestly I get why it’s Chosen Children and not Chosen Adults - adults would be like “are you KIDDING me all this work with NO PAYOFF I am gonna SUE”

Patamon’s digi-egg has been abducted by this guy... Skullnightmon? It seems he was a Xros Wars character. I had to look him up because at first I tried “Scarlnightmon” because Idk I was thinking Scarlet Night??? like night of blood and death??? idk. and Google tried to autocorrect it to “Scranton.” Uh... yeah. Skullnightmon makes more sense because of the BIG ASS SKULL on his breasplate. -.-;

It occurs to me how little I know about any Digimon series other than Adventure X’D I mean, I’m not gonna do anything to change that, but.... yeah I’m gonna continue to mix up stuff like this. His loyal steed is Darkmaildramon.

Yamato, of course, is immediately like Protective Mode On.

So at first I was a bit worried that this ep was gonna just Move Things Along as usual and Yamato wasn’t going to react to his little bro randomly being in the digital world. Let alone in the clutches of pure evil up until just recently. When you’re caught up in battle it’s admittedly hard to find time to Talk about stuff but COME ON

Fortunately, thought we don’t get a lot of Talking, we do get a bit. Like this cute moment where Takeru tries to explain what happened and Yamato’s just like “We can talk later” and gives him this adorable head pat. Ok, fine. I can live with that. It’s better than nothing xP

They arrive at the creepy castle which Taichi recognizes as the place Ogremon directed them to. It looks very evil and in front of it is a giant equally evil moat.

They also find this sinkhole sort of thing which Takeru promptly rushes over to stand at the very edge.

Yamato: OMG kid I look away for ONE SECOND

le gasp! Takeru finds a shiny feather at the edge of the hole! It’s a sign of the holy digimon! We should go investigate!

Oops first we have to find this gross Garurumon knock off... Its name is Splashmon but I think it should be “MeltedCrayonGarurumon”

Splashmon is apparently also from Xros wars and can turn into liquid and take on the form of other Digimon... I don’t know if he’s always this shit at it though. Maybe being controlled by evil is the reason for all the meltyness because he looks pretty cool in his wikia:

rofl...

Splashmon showers them all with acid rain and Yamato protec baby bro :< *wibble*

He then carries him to safety like this. xP

Yamato: Takeru, hide!

Takeru: This bottomless pit that reeks of evil seems like an ideal hiding spot. Niichan will be so proud

No but seriously... looks like we don’t get cowardly, crybaby Takeru this season. The kids getting to y’know Be Human about stuff is a thing it looks like I’m going to continue to miss in this reboot. But on the other hand, I genuinely DO enjoy Takeru throwing his all into saving Angemon.

Skullnightmon sticks Angemon’s digi-egg here where it gets chained down by evil vines. Very evil. Also seems like overkill, I mean, it’s an egg, what’s it going to do, roll off the platform?

We then switch gears and rejoin the kids in the real world, where Koushirou has, apparently overnight, if not in the last five minutes, created an update for their digivices which enables them to always be in contact with their partner. I don’t really get the details but that appears to be the size of it. We also catch up with Mimi and Jou.

At first I thought this was a school, but no, IT’S MIMI’S HOUSE. She has a PERSONAL CHAUFFEUR. Like, 99 Adventure Mimi was well-off, that was especially clear in 02... but... WOWZA.

Mimi’s parents look as stupid as ever xD I love them. They’re joined by her grandpa. After having been gone for three days with no explanation, Mimi’s parents are just like “Don’t you want to take it easy at home today?” when she says she needs to go out. Mimi’s just like “I gotta do what I gotta do!” (ok she actually quotes her grandpa from back in her intro ep but) and leaves like nothing happened.

.... I think grandpa might be dead. He doesn’t move the whole scene. Doesn’t even change his expression. I guess his mouth is a bit more open but that could just be because rigor mortis hasn’t quite set in

Meanwhile in Jou’s (normal, average) apartment, we meet SHIN-NIISAN!!! He’s as much of a dick as ever. I love him. Jou’s parents were mad because 1) he was gone for three days, 2) he skipped cram school, 3) he lost his textbook. I think Shin’s basically like HECK yeah finally my little bro shows his cool side! So he decides to be an enabler. GOOD, seems like Jou needs someone to be on his side at home ;_;

Their Digimon partners are traveling in the interwebz like... this... -____-;

They end up tracking Calmaramon, who is indeed Calmaramon.

I remember from Frontier when Renamon evolved to Calmaramon everyone gave her SO MUCH GRIEF for not being sexy. Wasn’t there like this whole episode devoted to how beautiful Izumi’s evolutions were and then Calmara the Squid Woman shows up and everyone’s like “ewww gross yuck!!” And ok I know she’s evil here too. But guys I JUST THINK SQUID WOMAN IS WICKED AWESOME OKAY. Like that is a LOOK. Versace take notes.

Like can we get some body positivity??? There is NOTHING wrong with being half-squid. Zephyrmon is not better just because she wears lingerie! Bet she can beat everyone at the swim meet. Also tastes yummy fried or raw with soy sauce.

ok I’m done. I’m serious about loving Calmaramon though. I have so many Frontier issues I totally forgot about >_>;

*cough* so yeah Calmaramon and those little green Digimon virus things take control of some boat and Koushirou’s like Uh-Oh Danger Will Robinson. Piyomon tries to attack with Magical Fire and is surprised, for some reason, when it does not do much. They are very much outnumbered and Calmaramon is clearly a much higher level than them so WHY do they think child-level is gonna be enough??

So this is cool!! Koushirou appears to be learning to read digi-code! He sounds out Calmaramon’s name by himself. We still pretty much have the question of why Taichi could just read digi-code fluently (well, almost? he randomly couldn’t read everything at the fortress if memory serves) and Koushirou has to sound it out... will we get an answer to this or?? Like if it were Takeru or Hikari I’d just assume it’s their Magic Baby powers at work but it was never made clear if just Taichi can read like this or they all can, and now it seems like maybe they all can’t since Koushirou’s trying so hard here...

Meanwhile Takeru...

99 Yamato would never have taken his eyes off Takeru for so long lmao

though it makes more sense if this season’s Takeru is more independent which he seems to be

Splashmon turns out to be really tough to beat, because he’s lost his mind and therefore holds nothing back xP He crushes MetalGreymon and WereGarurumon to the ground, infecting them with miasma.

At this point I was disappointed that Taichi and Yamato were still so clear-headed... like when are you gonna worry about your partner dude?? He gets the Crest of Courage because he’s never felt fear in his life??????

But then, their next move fails and WereGarurumon de-evolves back to Gabumon, while MetalGreymon is still in Splashmon’s clutches. He proceeds to pretty much make MetalGreymon’s arm wither away...

And Taichi FINALLY looks worried. ABOUT TIME.

Takeru has made it to the bottom of the hole, where he is startled to find this giant eye. I would also fall right on my bottom if I suddenly came across a giant eye.

Giant eye seems interested in Takeru’s digivice, so Takeru politely lets him have a look. BLINGGGGGGG.

Giant Eye: Ow ow ow turn it down!!!

Takeru: Sorry it’s LED!!

Taichi runs to rescue MetalGreymon in the... most ineffectual way possible... I love him...

The miasma can even hurt humans, it appears. Even though he’s in pain, Taichi doesn’t give up, and we get to hear Yamato shriek “Taichi!” all scared and adorable-like.

Taichi passionately reminds MetalGreymon about what they’re fighting for and succeeds in motivating him to be less dead.

Taichi: GIMME A V DOT THE I CURLY C T O R Y VICTORY!! *CLAP CLAP* VICTORY!! *CLAP CLAP*

Yamato: Incredible... so this is the power of a Pep Talk...

Taichi’s Pep causes MetalGreymon’s arm to... fall off... but it’s ok because it sprouts a long wiggly band of light uhhhhhh which then turns into a Giant Gun. So all is well. because MetalGreymon didn’t already have enough guns

MetalGreymon succeeds in defeating Splashmon and we seem some purple crystal sort of thing disappear, my guess is that’s what was controlling him. Agumon falls from midair and Taichi catches him like this.

They cute. They also need a break. Well, Agumon needs a break, I honestly think Taichi doesn’t even have an Off button...

Just when you think things can’t get weirder... Giant Eye appears.

Takeru’s on top of him looking all cool! Till he immediately falls!

Yamato catches him somewhat more adroitly than Taichi caught Agumon xP

The eye belongs to ElDradimon!! I love “animals with worlds on their backs” so this is totally up my ally. My first guess about the eye was that it was gonna be one of the digital sovereigns but this is still pretty cool.

Sooooooo cooooooooool

Yamato doesn’t even lecture Takeru about going off on his own and not hiding like he was told. SO DIFFERENT CANNOT COMPUTE. But looks how happy Takeru is to be praised by his bro for helping ElDradimon. Awww.

I’ve got to now reevaluate how I think things will go down because I really expected Takeru to be something that drives a wedge between Yamato and Taichi. In the old days, Yamato was super protective but Taichi would let Takeru do whatever and Takeru got a little boy crush on him which fed into Yamato’s inferiority complex. But if Yamato’s not overprotective and Takeru is already capable on his own... New directions are good though. I won’t be sorry if they don’t rehash all that BUT I need it to be replaced with something else. Taichi can’t just always be serious, Yamato can’t just always be cool... I like the reboot but I am still on edge about the character stuff.

... Yeah so ElDradimon was mega cool and then... he opened up his VACANT head... bahahaha.... bahahahahahahahahahahaha

So what I really liked about this ep was what I saw as parallels drawn between Taichi and Takeru on the theme of “Do anything to help your partner.” Takeru can’t stop looking for Angemon’s egg, that’s why he goes into the hole after finding the feather. He might not know what’s doing but he’s still gonna do it. Taichi knows a bit more and he’s usually so calculating and strategic, but when MetalGreymon looked on the verge of defeat he threw caution to the wind and tried to save him himself. Okay, not the first time we’ve seen this, true, but it did seem to be the running theme of the episode.

I know I didn’t really talk about how apparently the kids can now update their partners with new powers/gadgets?? by believing in them enough... but y’know that just sounds like the sort of thing a kid’s show would do. I almost miss the card game from Tamers... it would be cool to see the kids have to think and strategically choose what they want to equip their partners with. That was part of the enticement of Tamers, where Adventure was more inexplicable magic, Tamers relied more on intent. Taichi is such a strategist (and of course there’s also freaking Koushirou) that it seems a waste to not involve the kids in the decision making more.

Next week’s ep preivew was a bit hard to follow but 1) the animation looks better than this week thank heaven and 2) it looks like fun. And we get more bamf Takeru! Woot. Can I still say woot in 2020? I can because of senior citizen privilege right?

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 1: “Game on!”

It’s Judai/Jaden Yuki’s birthday today! Let’s celebrate!

Precious fluffy boi!

Cross posted on Ao3!

Jaden doesn’t do birthdays.

He has maybe one or two memories of cake and candles and his parents’ faces, a couple more surrounded by friends and presents. After that it’s just a card and present or two left on the dining room table of an empty house.

Christina tries at least. She drags him out of the empty house and over to her place. There’s cake and candles and presents that actually match his interests and off key singing. Her mother cooks his favorite dishes. They duel.

It’s bittersweet, but it’s better than hiding under his blanket with his GameBoy all day.

*

/I’m heading to Yugi’s today. You should come too!/

Biting his lip, Jaden glances at the calendar and wonders if he’s gotten the days mixed up again. But, no, the home screen of the Duel Academy issued PDA proudly proclaims August 31. He looks back at Christina’s message. They hadn’t made any plans which isn’t unusual - Christina usually just shows up to drag him off, so that’s the weird part of this situation.

This is the first time they’ve both had cell phones tho.

He stares at the message, rubbing his thumb against the side of the device, until Winged Kuriboh trills at him to respond instead of sitting here angsting about it.

“Okay, okay- I am not!” Jaden protests.

Winged Kuriboh snorts.

Groaning, Jaden sends his reply.

/maybe/

/3 o’clock! Bring an overnight bag!/

“Are you even listening to me?” Jaden grumbles, but he has to admit to curiosity. This will hardly be his first time at Christina’s cousin’s house, but sleepovers had gotten rarer over the years.

“Oh, fine!” Jaden huffs as Winged Kuriboh headbutts him, tossing off the sheet he’d wrapped himself in to actually get dressed. It’s a little after 1 so he might as well get his stuff and leave now. The train to Domino alone will take an hour.

Ugh. He forgot how much he hated riding this thing alone.

*

The lights in the game shop out front are off, the door locked, so Jaden goes around to the side door and knocks. Muto-san lets him in.

“Judai! Glad you could make it.” The woman smiles warmly as Jaden toes his shoes off. “Christina’s in the living room.”

“Kay.” It’s a fairly mundane exchange. The few times Christina has dragged him over here on this day in the past, the woman nearly squeezed the daylights out of him. It felt like he might break, but he also felt really safe. He’s still confused by the memory but it’s a good one.

Did everyone forget? That’s not possibly, right?

Winged Kuriboh chirps at him again when he stalls too long in the genkan, and Jaden tries not to look like he jumps at nothing but air. “Alright!” he hisses out the side of his mouth and stalks down the short hallway.

Great. He’s in a bad mood now, and he hates dealing with people when he’s in a bad mood. Christina’s okay, but Yugi and Gramps have only seen his sunny side. Why is it so exhausting to be happy all the time?

“SURPRISE!”

Jaden shrieks as he rounds the corner to an explosion of bright colors and popping noises. It takes him what feels like an eternity to realize he’s just been assaulted with confetti by his friends who definitely don’t live in Domino.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JADEN!” they chorus, every single one of them and what the actual fuck how??

“What?” He blinks dumbly at them, confetti dangling in his face and too stunned to even tell a giggling Winged Kuriboh to shut up.

“We came all this way to surprise you!” Alexis beams. Huh, she looks pretty good out of uniform; the kapris are definitely more practical than those stupid skirts.

“It was Christina’s idea!” Syrus declares, the redhead in question practically vibrating where she stands like she’ll explode into confetti herself any moment. It’s been a long time since he’s seen her that excited. “I was so nervous on the train I nearly missed my stop! But it was worth it!”

“Ha! My brother’s got you beat there. This idiot tried to board the wrong train,” Alexis scoffs, slapping the back of her hand against Atticus’s arm.

“Heeey!” the older boy whines, pouting dramatically. “It was an honest mistake!”

“Well, whatever mishaps on the way, we all got here,” Bastion interrupts, standing proud and tall as always, and Jaden might be a tiny bit delusional but he could swear Bastion looks proud of him. “And I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. You’re one year older. Congratulations, chap!” Bastion claps him on the shoulder and Jaden’s eyes don’t deceive him; the smartest kid in his grade, if not the whole school, is proud of him for simply turning 16!

Since when are birthdays an accomplishment to be proud of?!

Oh, right, this is the part where Jaden is supposed to smile, not stare at his friends like a dead fish. “R-right!” Did his voice just crack? His face feels creaky and numb. Oh god, is doing the serial killer smile?

“Who wants cake?” a boisterous voice calls, saving Jaden from falling further into panicked thoughts as its owner sweeps out of the kitchen holding a massive cake.

“Chumley?!”

“Yeah, duh! I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world!” the newly hired card designer declares. “And I got a leave of absence, don’t worry! Apparently Mr. Pegasus is pretty big on the whole family and friends thing.”

Jaden can only gape. Then he notices Chazz lurking behind Chumley, his trademark scowl and dark clothing at total odds with the lopsided, brightly colored party hat someone else must have forced onto his head, and Jaden just loses it. The hysterical giggles bubble up his throat and he’s wheezing before he even understands what’s going on. But he’s...happy? No way, this has gotta be more than just ‘happy’. Jaden doesn’t think he’s felt so much in years!

“C’mere you guys!” He throws himself at them, instigating a group hug as Syrus squeaks and rushes to catch him. He hides the tears in Atticus’ shoulder and laughs instead of sobs. Christina’s hands finds his and he squeezes.

He has to swallow the ache in his throat again, when he sees the mountain of presents on the table.

“We may have gone a bit overboard.” Atticus laughs sheepishly.

“Dad’s gonna murder you when he sees the credit card balance,” Alexis grumbles.

“Oh, posh! Nothing is too big a sacrifice for Jaden’s big day!”

Jaden doesn’t even know what he’s gonna do with all this stuff! They end up building the model Gundam kits together. Jaden’s never had so much fun with those things.

He also gets that soul squeezing hug from Mama Muto.

“Thanks,” he whispers later, sitting on the couch with Christina while their friends argue over a puzzle strewn across the table.

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” she hums, thumb rubbing his knuckle in a familiar, soothing rhythm. “Syrus wanted to know when your birthday was and pouted when he realized it’d be during summer break. When I told him you weren’t really fond of your birthday anyway, I guess he told Atticus and, well... Atticus got it in his head to throw you the ‘best birthday ever’. Mom doesn’t have enough space for a big party so I asked Yugi if Gramps and Aunty would mind. And here we are.” She smiles at him, so genuine and pure.

His throat aches again. He ignores it.

“Yeah. Best birthday ever.”

[twoblueheartslocked]

Mini Para: December Flashback.

Rating: R.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Four years before the events of ( Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You ) Events taking place in December of Blaine’s Senior Year and Sebastian’s Junior Year. Blaine (17) Seb(16).

Location: Sebastian’s House. Westerville, Ohio

Info: A glimpse into the month of December ending with Blaine spending the night with Sebastian.

Warnings(PLEASE READ THIS): This para includes non graphic descriptions of sexual situations between minors.  We’ve kept it as YA as possible. We are in NO way trying to spotlight sex between teens, we just wanted to show how natural and comfortable they are together and the progression of their relationship. There will be absolutely no smut written until they’re adults. If anyone feels we’ve taken it too far please let us know and we will fix it.

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine squeezed his mother tightly as she and his father said their goodbyes to him on Saturday morning, two days after Christmas. They were leaving for a weekend belated Christmas and early New Year’s party that his father’s work friend had invited them to and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow evening sometime. Blaine tried his hardest to keep his excitement in check as he waved their SUV off, the light snowfall clinging to his dark hair as he stood there, waiting for them to turn off at the end of the street. He couldn’t believe his absolute luck, he’d been stressing since his stolen moments in his bedroom with Sebastian on Thanksgiving over how he was going to come up with a lie to tell his parents when a week and half ago his dad had announced that he and his mom would be gone for a whole night and it just so happened to be the weekend that Sebastian’s parents would be out as well. He was ecstatic to spend some real alone time with his guy. Ecstatic and so nervous he thought he might throw up or giggle himself into a mad happy fit over it all.

The two of them had already celebrated their Christmas together, exchanging small gifts at Blaine’s house and precisely placed mistletoe kisses against a snowy backdrop that had been so romantic that when Blaine voiced just how romantic he thought it was Sebastian had rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance but then had surprised him by grinning down at Blaine like he was the most important person in the world and pulling him into his arms and kissing him again just to make it all that more romantic for Blaine. He smiled at the memory as he made his way back into his house so he could properly pack for his overnight stay at Seb’s house.

He’d left his small duffle bag empty and tucked away under his bed so that his parents wouldn’t catch onto what he was going to do. He felt a little pang of guilt knowing that they wouldn’t really approve of him spending the night alone over there no matter how fond of Sebastian they’d grown.  But the guilt was short lived as he packed a change of clothes, a pair of pajamas and a few toiletries into his bag- he couldn’t help it, he’d been waiting weeks, probably subconsciously even longer, for this night.

Before he zipped the bag up he made his way over to his nightstand, his fingers twitching nervously as he pulled a newly purchased three pack of condoms out of their hiding place. He was afraid that if he thought about it too much he’d leave them behind. He wasn’t even sure if it would happen, he had a feeling they were on the same page, that Sebastian wanted him just as much as he did, but his nerves always seemed to get the better of him and he was torn. Without looking at them too hard he quickly shoved them into his bag along with a small bottle of lube, tucking them under his clothing, but not before his eyes could catch on the ridiculously bold XXL on the slim package.

The letters seemed to leer up at him and made him feel self conscious and overly embarrassed. He knew he needed them, he’d learned the hard way how uncomfortable the smaller size was for him the few times he’d used them, but it didn’t make him feel any less full of himself. Would Sebastian think he was stupid for getting that kind? Was he being full of himself? He forced himself not to think about it too hard, his hands moving on their own accord to zip his bag up as if that meant he couldn’t still change his mind. He pulled out his phone and opened up the text log between him and Seb- a smile passing over his lips as he read the last text from him. -Can't wait to see you, killer.  Blaine quickly typed out his own message, his fingers a little shaky at the prospect of getting to spend the whole day and night over at Seb’s house with absolutely zero supervision or interruptions. -You’re in luck, they've left. I’m on my way, okay?

Seb had sent back the words- Hurry! But also be safe. And that was really all the prompting Blaine needed. He made sure the house was locked down and left the television on in his living room in a half hearted attempt to throw his neighbors off, they didn’t tend to pay much attention to what he did, but it would be his luck they’d pay attention now and call his parents back or something. Or that was just his nerves talking again. He slung the bag across his chest, hoping it looked more like he were going to go study than like he were spending the night somewhere and got into his SUV, his vehicle seemingly taking him in the direction of Sebastian’s house like it was following an invisible line that connected the two of them so surly. Before he knew it he was there, parked in the long driveway and feeling small as he knocked on the door, his fingers clutching the strap of his back as if it could keep him grounded. Seb’s for Blaine only smile was brilliant as he opened the door to greet him and it took Blaine a second to find his voice.

“Hey you.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian was buzzing with energy. He woke up early, drank a bunch of coffee with his dad’s sugar free french vanilla creamer and ate four pieces of peanut butter toast. He sat on his mother’s bed and helped her pick out her outfits for the trip and packed her bag. Thomas hadn’t noticed Sebastian’s surge of helpfulness and burst of jittery energy but Sabine had. “You seem eager today, Sebastian.”  She stood by the car as Thomas and the maid packed the hatchback trunk of the SUV and she had a knowing glint to her green eyes. “Just here to help, Mom. Have a safe trip.” Sebastian grinned and leaned down to give her a kiss on the forehead before he walked backwards into a house that was basically all his. Sure, the maid and the cook would be around but, he and Blaine pretty much had the place to themselves.

He made sure to ask the cook to pick up hot cocoa and pizza ingredients from the store so that they could make themselves a meal, cleaned his room himself (fresh sheets and no dirty laundry anywhere!) stole a few cigarettes (sorry Mom) and bought some condoms from the convenience store he often  passed on his way home. Sebastian took a long, detailed shower and picked out a dark green hoodie and his favorite Dalton LaCrosse sweatpants to wear.  He gave himself a once over in the mirror and smiled to himself. He was positive that they were on the same line, same chapter, same book because they always were. Seb never got this anxious excitement for anybody but the other boy. He had been daydreaming about this night for weeks and his veins were buzzing and his stomach kept jumping. Sebastian shot Blaine a few quick texts and stared at the clock on his phone, he couldn’t wait for him to arrive and he couldn’t sit still.

He was already standing by the door when Blaine had knocked because he had stood by an upstairs window and watched the snow fall as he waited for his car to pull up. Sebastian basically leaped down the stairs  and could have tackled Blaine into the snow right then and there. There he stood, on his porch with his cheeks red and little snowflakes perched on a few curls that started to escape their perfect styling.

“Hey B.” Sebastian smiled before he could catch himself and stood back for the other to step inside. “Do you want to eat first or, hear me out, I found my old sled in the garage the other day. We could go to the hill and try it out.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine couldn’t fight the smile that fought its way onto his lips as he listened to Sebastian speak. He could picture them already, sledding down the hill at the end of Seb’s street- cheeks numb from the cold and from laughing and all at once the idea was something he wanted more than anything he’d ever wanted before. He took his bag from over his body and sat in neatly at the end of the kitchen counter next to an assortment of instant hot chocolate and marshmallows so that he could take it up to Sebastian’s room later on.

His stomach  gave a little flip at the thought, and he wondered when they’d find themselves up there. Would they cuddle on the sofa and watch movies in their pajamas first like this was their home and this was a normal night? Or would they get overly excited and fumble clumsily up the stairs, lips and limbs tangled in two hours? He personally hoped that they took their time, he wanted this day and night to last, he’d been here five minutes and already the thought of leaving was making him feel a silly bit of sadness.

“I would absolutely love to go sledding with you, Seb. I haven’t done that since I was a kid!” He laughed, and reached out for Seb’s hands, taking them into his before pressing a kiss to them. He hoped his lips weren’t too cold. “And then after that we can come back in and I’ll make you the best cup of instant hot cocoa you’ve ever had on top of the best pizza, no second best pizza- the first would be the one I made on your birthday, you’ve ever had and we can warm up.” He pulled Sebastian closer using their linked fingers and wrapped his arms around his neck, his fingers toying with his hairline.

“I promise to keep you warm if you get too cold.  We can do whatever you want, you’ve got me all night long. I’m completely yours.” His smile turned a little shy, his nerves catching up to him before tip toeing up and stealing a kiss from Sebastian’s lips, his fingers scraping lightly through his hair. He let his eyes slip shut as he deepened it just a bit, as if promising Sebastian that he’d keep him warm and that he wasn’t going anywhere. When he said he was his for the rest of the night, he hoped Sebastian knew that he meant so much longer than that. He meant always.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian’s heart fluttered when Blaine tipped up on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to his lips. His stomach flipped in a way that was almost uncomfortable, the sort of dip that happens when you drive down  a hill too fast and gravity catches up before you’ve even realized you were flying down a slope. He had goosebumps all over his arms and legs and a promise that hung tight in the air between the two of them. Seb smiled and felt a thrill run up and down his spine. “I’m a lucky guy.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Sebastian clasped onto Blaine’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. The two of them bundled up in scarves and gloves and earmuffs that his mother kept tidy in a tote in the upstairs linen closet. He wrapped a fluffy hunter green scarf around Blaine’s neck and toyed with the frayed ends for a moment, “I’m all yours,too. For the record.”  He smiled his toothy grin that he kept reserved for the other boy and gave him a quick kiss before troping down the stairs, the two of them laughing all the way to the garage and down to the end of his street.

Sebastian sat down first on the bright orange sled and tapped the plastic in between his legs with a gloved hand, “You get to steer.”  The two of them flew, just barely missed a tree and landed in a heap of laughter at the bottom of the hill. They slid down the hill successfully a few more times before they crashed and rolled into the snow with red cheeks and frozen puffs of amusement as they wrestled playfully and kissed as snowflakes drifted around them.  Sebastian threw the first snowball in a not so serious snowball fight that ended in more kissing and laughing. They decided to head back to the house when Sebastian’s glove started to freeze and his body shook with cold tremors.

“Don’t forget that you promised me the best hot cocoa ever and, you know I think I still need some more warming up.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s skin prickled all over at Sebastian’s words. He wanted to follow up with how lucky he was too, wanted to tell Sebastian that he meant the world to him and tell him just how incredible being with him felt- but Seb was already pulling him the stairs and making Blaine feel like he could do anything by telling him that he was all his, too. Blaine felt an odd sense of belonging as Seb wrapped his green scarf around him. Sure, it had been washed since the last time it had been worn, but there the ghost of Sebastian’s winter scent still clung to the fluff like a kiss. Wearing Seb’s things made Blaine feel like he belonged there, like this life was meant for him. He found he couldn’t stop beaming as they made their way outside hand in hand.

And each slide down the hill, each press of Sebastian’s body pressed against his back as he tried to steer and they flew past glittering trees made Blaine smile bigger and bigger until his face hurt from doing so. The cold adding to his pleasurable discomfort as they kissed in the snow, Seb’s lips tasting like snow and a lingering of forbidden smoke that was absolutely driving Blaine wild. It felt like he was in a book or a movie and again he didn’t want any of it to end.

As they made their way back into Seb’s house, the fireplace roared and warmed his chilled bones instantly. Blaine wasn’t sure who had turned it on, probably one of Sabine’s elusive staff, but it felt magical and Blaine wanted to pull Sebastian in front of it and snuggle into him there. But, he promised he’d make him the best cup of cocoa he’d ever had and he meant to do just that. He made his way through the kitchen, Sebastian’s words about warming him up making his heart flip a little.

“I did promise, didn’t I?” He pulled Seb close and wrapped his arms around him before running his hands up and down his back in an attempt, his lips finding his neck, the pulsepoint spot Seb loved so much and pressing an assortment of kisses there before pulling back. “Better?” He grinned up at the other boy, “There’s more where those came from later, I promise that too.”  He winked and forced himself to pull away before he got too carried away in exploring the gorgeous expanse that was Sebastian’s neck. He didn’t want to rush the day and doing that would for sure rush things.

He cleared his throat and made his way around the Smythe family kitchen like he’d done a dozen times before gathering ingredients for the perfect cup of instant. “Right, so the best cup of instant hot cocoa ever.” He placed a pan on the stove and then put the water in and set it to heat before he pulled down two large mugs and filled them with the powder. He went to the fridge and pulled out the whole milk and set it next to the mugs. He then added the boiled water into the mix and tossed in a few marshmallows. “The key is to add milk to make it creamier and to mix in the bigger marshmallows and just keep adding them as they melt. It’s super sweet but my mom used to make it like this when I was a kid and it’s my favorite. Here, try it. He handed Sebastian his mug and watched as he blew on the liquid before taking a drink. The other boy's smile was all Blaine needed to know he’d done a good job.

The day went on way too fast for Blaine's liking between sips of cocoa in front of the fire and giggling about their sledding mishaps and Blaine pretending not to like the smoke on Seb’s lips that Seb totally saw through- and before he knew it it was evening and they were cuddled up down in their basement, cozy in warm sweats on Seb’s sofa, half eaten plates of Blaine’s homemade pizza discarded to the side so they could kiss each other properly as the sounds of the movie Gremlins (Which kinda scared Sebastian) played in the background. Blaine, needing air, finally pulled back enough to look down at Seb from his spot half on top of him and hovering above him, his leg pushed up and over Seb’s body, his guys cheeks flushed from the earlier cold and from their kissing. He looked fucking gorgeous and Blaine blurted it before he could stop himself. His voice was soft and almost in awe.

“You’re beautiful...”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian sighed and pressed his hands into Blaine’s hips when he felt his lips on his sensitive neck. He laughed , loud and bright though his skin still felt hot from the kisses but Blaine had winked and it seemed like they had switched personalities for a split second. It felt like a perfect moment, the sort of memory that Seb wished he could wrap up and keep close because it was pure and so specifically them.

He watched Blaine make himself at home which gave him a special sort of warm satisfaction. The other boy knew where the pans were, knew the correct cabinet to find mugs. Seb liked to see it, Hunter wasn’t even this familiar with the Smythe house. It felt like Blaine was always meant to whisk into the kitchen and sing and laugh and bake pies and make pizza and hot cocoa. It was the most alive the house had felt to Seb in a long time.

Blaine had set a giant mug of frothy hot chocolate in front of him. “Looks perfect.” He leaned forward and let the steam drift over his cold face for a moment before he blew on it and took a sip. Sebastian smiled and took another drink because of course Blaine could make instant hot cocoa taste like it came from a coffee shop.

The next few hours were a blur of pizza, some weird 80s movie Blaine had picked (the only redeeming quality to Sebastian was the lead actor who was sort of cute.), and kissing until their lips began to hurt and their cheeks were red. Blaine sort of hovered over him, the noise of little gremlins screaming on the tv as he blurted out You’re beautiful and Sebastian blinked a few times, a slow smile spread over his face. He looked up into the other’s big, golden eyes and realized that nobody else had ever called him beautiful before and he felt a satisfied shiver spread its way all over his body. Sebastian didn’t think any words could suffice so he leaned up and kissed Blaine all soft and slow and suddenly it felt like pressure in the room changed. It was the feeling of jumping into the deep end of a pool, sudden and intense, lungs burning and legs kicking to break the surface. The rush of running full speed down the track, every tendon screaming for release. The thrill  of swinging so high on a swing set that it lifted off the ground dangerously with every pump.  His body felt hot and his hands trembled as they knotted in the neck of Blaine’s shirt, his hips ached, he moaned despite himself.

“I think that you should take me upstairs.”

Blaine’s POV:

A shiver and a tingle spread throughout the lower half of Blaine’s body at the sound of Sebastian’s moan and the tone in his voice. All at once he was overwhelmed with want and a desire he’d truly never felt for anyone else before. Every crush or person before seemed like a little insignificant when it came to the way he felt about Sebastian and I love you threatened to surge forward again but Blaine pushed it down and back into his chest next to his heart in favor of giving the other boy a wide eyed nod as he scooted off of him gently and reached down to help Seb up with him. He knew what this meant, he knew what Sebastian wanted and he wanted nothing more than to give it to him. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to manage to get them both of two sets of stairs without stumbling.

His hands were shaking as he pulled Seb’s shirt up and over his head once they’d managed to make it into his bedroom. His fingers tentatively explored each little freckle, wanting to count them like the stars in the sky. He leaned down and pressed a kiss into a few of them, trying to show Sebastian that he loved how he looked, wanting to get this right, wanting Sebsatian to know that Blaine loved him and his body without saying it outloud. He reluctantly pulled away from Sebastian, his skin instantly missing the contact as he quickly rummaged around in his bag for the small pack of condoms and small bottle of lube he brought and sat them down on the bedside table before moving back to Sebastian and pressing a kiss to his lips to hide his growing blush.

The queen sized bed seemed too large yet inviting as he pressed Sebastian down and into the sheets before crawling up between his legs, his excitement apparent as he pushed his hips against the boy beneath him, his fingers fumbling with the the hem of Sebastian’s sweats and boxers for a moment before managing to push them down and to the ground. Blaine bit his lip as their bare skin touched before ducking his head and kissing Seb so slowly and gently that he thought he’d float away from how fucking good it felt to him. After what felt like hours, kissing and touching like that he finally pulled his head back to look down into green eyes, his voice a nervous whisper.

“ I-...Are you sure this is what you want?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian laughed a little, he had to.  Of course Blaine would ask even as he was flushed and panting underneath him with desperate hands and hips. He loved that about him-his sweet demeanor and how naturally charming and polite he was. God, it made him even crazier for him, that fucking concerned look in his amber eyes and the thoughtful furrow of his eye brows.

“More than anything.”

It all happened so fast. Such a cliche of a thought but it was true. It was all a tangle of hands and mouths and names whispered into hot skin. Sebastian felt satisfied and complete as Blaine pulled him close under his heavy bedspread. His body felt spent and tired and he was sure he could sleep solidly for 12 hours if he let himself but all he wanted to do was trace  his long fingers over Blaine’s torso as he listened  to his heart beat beat beat under his head. Sebastian kept catching himself smiling anytime Blaine spoke or touched him and he wondered if they could live in his bedroom forever, in this little wonderful moment like a snow globe.  He was always mystified by the way Blaine flipped his world upside down and brought all of his feelings to the surface and made him daydream  and laugh and smile and want to be nice. Seb was terrified to put a label on the way he felt but he couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved the kid.  

Sebastian took a deep breath and leaned up on his elbow so he could see the other boy’s face, “Wish you didn’t have to leave in the morning.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine lay there with Sebastian’s head on his chest, his fingers tracing his freckles, the ones he could reach, across his shoulder. The world felt still and the world felt like it belonged to them and Blaine wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment and save it for bad days. Sebastian felt like he belonged here in his arms, and he wondered, not for the first time, how he’d gone so long denying himself this comfort. Blaine swallowed hard, his chest aching and swelling and he was so afraid that if he spoke he’d ruin the moment.

He was so afraid that if he told Sebastian how he felt that Seb would stiffen and maybe ask him to leave and things would be awkward and stressed and while he thought that maybe they were on the same page, on the off chance that Seb turned him away, Blaine thought that might kill him. So he held onto him tightly and whispered to him that he’d  come back over tomorrow night. Told Seb that he just needed to be home when his parents got home so he wouldn't be in trouble. And when they drifted off to sleep together, Blaine was wrapped tightly around the taller boy, his face pressed against the back of his neck, and his arms locked around him as if he’d always fit in that space between Blaine’s arms.

And when he forced himself to leave the next day Blaine made sure to kiss Sebastian extra sweet and long so that he’d know that the night had meant everything to him. That the whole thing, not just the sex, was important and to show Sebastian that he was the reason Blaine felt the happiest he’d ever felt in his whole life. I love you hung silently in the air between them as he stepped out into the December wind and Blaine made a promise to himself that when he came back over tonight he’d tell Sebastian how he felt. So what if it had only been a few months? Who made the rules that you could only fall in love after years? Blaine knew how he felt and he needed Sebastian to know too. He had to have faith that Sebastian would accept it, maybe even say it back. How incredible would that be? How good would that feel?

He was all smiles, his heart singing louder than his voice as he straightened up his house for his mom and dad, his earphones blashing away so loudly he almost missed his phone ringing from his bedroom. And as he raced to pick it up thinking it might be his reason for smiling. That Sebastian’s slow, comforting voice might be on the other end- 

He’d come to wish that he had missed it.

/fin.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

We Can Make Anything Work as Long as You Stand By Me (Sriracha, Part 26.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: With one year anniversary approaching, Hopper decided to make something special with the help of your mom. 

Warnings: Smut, but a sweet and loving one. Also, let’s say this is one of the last happy chapters before... Well... The summer of 1985 is approaching rather quickly, don’t you think?

A/N: I feel like we hadn’t got nasty here in a long time... So... Here we go. Inspired by Foreigner and their song I Wanna Know What Love Is (IT IS 1984 GUYS, IT’S ALRIGHT, DON’T COME AFTER ME.)

Word count: 3.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​, @missdictatorme​

Master list: H E R E

Eleven staying at your parents began to occur daily - even your father liked the girl since she was interested in his fishing set, watching him taking care of it and he could tell her about his damn sports articles for hours and she didn't seem to get bored with his enthusiasm.

It was secretive every time you took her there, making sure that she's hidden under the blanket perfectly. Since your mom stopped working at the Post office, you called her every day before taking El there - and it was never a problem. First, you let your parents take her for one day in a week, that was in early June. You or Hopper always made sure to stick around just for El to feel safe. When you were sure that she can stay there on her own the whole day, you began to drop her there on her own.

The first bigger breakthrough came when the first of July was slowly approaching - it was almost scary that you and Hopper made the things work for a year almost. That was also the evening when he got another of his batshit crazy ideas. He asked your mom when he was dropping Eleven off on Friday, letting your mom taking care of her. Aiden was enthusiastic about being an uncle - that day, he planned to draw with El and then showing her a few cool tricks he taught Lady.

"Can I ask you a favor?" - Jim asked your mom nervously as he watched Eleven taking her shirt off, almost automatically pouring herself Molly’s lemonade. She was asking all the time before she learned that she can have anything that was put on the counter - whether it was Molly’s lemonade or her famous cakes.

"Go on." - Your mom let him in, pouring him a glass of water as well. It was awfully hot on that day - even if the summer had just started. Hopper really appreciated the glass, if he had to be honest.

"God, this is awfully cringy, but..." - Hopper stepped a bit away from Eleven who watched him cautiously, having a small sunburn on her face since she loved to spend too much time in the water. - "A year of me knowin’ your daughter is comin’ by and I thought that maybe you could have El for a sleepover so I can make her a nice evenin’?" - Hopper asked, getting red on his cheeks. Your mom opened up her mouth a bit and then furrowed.

"You want to take her out on a dinner, right?" - She asked suspiciously, not letting Hopper off of her sight for a single second. Hopper almost spilled the water out of his mouth before nodding. He was thinking more like kinky fucking all over the cabin, but he couldn't tell that your mom straight to her face.

"At the Spanish restaurant in the downtown, Molly, she loves the food there." - Hopper somehow got out of his mouth, praying for your mom to leave him alone. Then, she nodded, looking at Eleven.

"It will be a pleasure to have this anger here overnight. She can sleep in Y/N’s old bed, we can watch some movies, have fun. Sure." - Molly nodded, waiting for Hop to drink the rest of the water and leaving the house, telling Eleven once again that she better be good kiddo.

And as Jim and your mom had planned, so it happened. On Sunday, you had to leave for a shift, so Hopper took Eleven to your parents’ just an hour before you were supposed to end. Joyce, again, helped him with the outfit and tips of what to say, she helped him with making the reservation of a table since Hop was clueless with these things. And let me say, that man looked handsome. Like, really handsome.

He took his beige blazer out of the wardrobe, slicked his hair, shortened his beard and Eleven helped him with choosing the right pair of jeans and a shirt - they ended up picking a white one with blue, almost invisible stripes printed all over it. Even Molly was pleasantly surprised when she saw him looking like a million bucks when he opened up the garage door.

Meanwhile, you could just describe your shift at horrendous and you were happy, once the clock had shown eight o’clock. The people were nice, it wasn't the people that visited the bistro... It was just too hot and the sun was shining the whole damn day. Yet, you wanted to buy some fireworks and celebrate the fourth of July at your parents’ as a family, so each penny you made could help you a lot.

You felt like a hot pile of a mess when you were leaving the bistro on one of Jim’s shirts with a messy hairstyle and a pair of jeans - but that didn't matter to him at all while he was waiting for you in front of the door, leaned into your car with a fucking huge flower in his palms. You didn't even realize what day it is. The first of July - you started to work at the station last year that day and Jim had proclaimed it your anniversary day. And even if you would remember what day it was, Hop didn't look a man who remembers dates and anniversaries. Your whole face lit up as soon as you realized it's him, just with shortened hair, looking smooth as ever.

"What are you... Doing here?" - You giggled, leaning closer to kiss him. - "Did you leave her all alone at home?" - You ask worriedly, taking the flower he was giving you while you let him give you yet another kiss. And that was a proper French one.

"Don't worry about anythin’ today, alrite? This day’s yours." - Jim smiled, patting your bum carefully as he threw your stuff on your backseat, shoving the flower there carefully as well. You had to sit on the co-driver’s seat because this wasn't the end of his masterful plan.

Yes, you felt kinda worried about Eleven, looking at the profile of Hopper’s face, but you knew that if she wasn't safe, he wouldn't be that calm. Foreigner was playing through the car as his hand palmed your knee when he drove towards the restaurant. This was the best looking anniversary you ever had - at least that far.

Even if you felt like you're not dressed pretty enough to have a meal at the best Spanish restaurant you've ever been, you saw in his eyes that it doesn't matter, for fuck’s sake. All that mattered was that you two were there together on a great meal, having lots of great conversation which you hadn't got in weeks... Months even. Hopper also made you laugh hard many times and... It just felt like the old times when there was no Eleven, when you lived at his trail and when nobody knew about you, although you were sitting in a restaurant full of people. It felt like that small half of the month after you got back to Hawkins from Dakota and before Jim disappeared for three whole months.

You were grateful for what you had, but it reminded you of something much simpler than what your current situation was. It made you remember the days when you could walk around completely naked, having him any time you wished to, the long nights of laughs you spent in the bed and the swims in the quarry, both of you completely naked, kissing each other, being completely lost in the moment. You missed these moments. But Eleven was now a part of your life as well and honestly, you wouldn't change that for literally anything in the world.

The bigger surprise was waiting for you in the cabin; while you had to sit in the car all alone for what seemed to be whole eternity, Hopper was doing something in the cabin. You were already happy - but your breath got pretty much stuck when you saw tens, maybe hundreds, of candles lit up with I Wanna Know What Love Is playing in the background.

"You're trying here, Mr. Hopper, I gotta say." - You whispered when you felt his fingers dip into your tensed shoulders, making you grunt with pleasure, biting your lip in the process.

"You're just worth all of this, what can I say?" - Jim smiled into the crook of your neck, letting his palm slip under your/his shirt and below the belt on your jeans.

"You’ve never seemed to be the man who does great gestures. This is such a nice surprise. You might need to do this more often, huh?" - You hummed and moved your hips in the rhythm of the song. It was a truly great choice of music; this was a song for dancing, singing, nuzzling, slow fucking, just everything. And when the main verse of the whole song was playing? You simply got lost in the moment every time.

"And I have more." - Jim smiled, taking the flower out of your hand, putting it into a vase. You had a while just to look at your man - and dear got, he was extremely hot at that moment, just doing the little everyday things. - "But you need to take a shower, darlin’."

"Do I smell, Jim?" - You giggled and hugged him from the back, smiling into his blazer. - "Now you're smelly too." - You put your chin on his shoulder, kissing the crook of his neck with a smile.

"You don't smell, I just want to see my fiancée naked. Is that a sin?" - He asked back, putting the vase on the table, watching you walk away with a nasty grin on your face. Slowly, you undid the buttons, one after one, showing him the bra you got under. Knowing this, you would take something way sexier, but you found out just after your shift ended and you were looking like a damned witch living in the deepest swamp.

That didn't stop you from undoing your jeans, unhooking the button just before you entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Without hesitation, Hopper picked up both your shirt and your pants, folding them without putting too much effort into it, since you taught him to do his stuff. By the time the door opened up again, you were already covered in soap bubbles, your hair was completely damp, but you had a contained smile on your lips. At least until you heard sounds of a Polaroid taking and printing a photo.

"What are you doing, you old creep?" - You mumbled, dragging him under the warm water after you - which meant that he had to put the camera away.

"Creepin' on you, I guess?" - The man smiled into your lips before kissing you, feeling as you massaged the gel onto his arms.

"Well, I hope you're not creeping on anyone else like that." - You laughed back, looking at that man getting on his knees. There literally wasn't anything hotter than Hopper on his knees; that was a fact which needed to be stated. Especially when you knew what he's about to do to you.

"So you can see this David guy, but I can’t creep on anyone else. That’s kinda unfair, missy." - Jim's mouth said into your thigh before kissing it. You haven't done anything in the shower for a hella long time. This almost felt like a redemption of sorts.

You'd swear that you started melting at the first moment his tongue touched you right on the most sensitive spot of your body. Without putting too much effort into anything, you stopped the water, swung your leg over his shoulder and gripped his hair pretty tight to make sure he won't leave his damn place. You didn't even realize how much you've missed being eaten out anytime and anywhere just because Jim said and wanted so.

Before your brain could make out what in the name of God of is happening, you had two fingers inside of you, third about to be added masterfully, his lips were sucking the living soul out of you and you had some serious trouble with standing up straight. Your fingers were playing with his hair, smoothing it from side to side as you bit your lower lip, trying not to scream too loud.

"Fuck, goddamn, Jim I love you." - You mumbled the typical nonsense you did as you were about to come, feeling that bastard just humming into your pussy. The vibrations set you off - so in the next second, you were barely standing there, screaming curses, his name, the name of the Lord, just everything as the stars flew past your closed eyes.

"Don't you pass out on me. 'Cause then I'd have to give you a mouth to mouth and that David guy would roast me for that, baby." - Hopper laughed from kneeling between your legs, watching you from the below, holding both your legs in place.

"Shut your mouth, creep." - You laughed with your eyes still closed, feeling him standing up to turn on the water. And boy, oh, he was hard as stone. But when you wanted to palm that dick, he shushed your fingers away, turning your back at him, slowly massaging the gel onto your back.

"What the hell was that, James?" - You laughed, giving into the touch of his fingers, feeling the warm water run down your spine, the small of your back and your ass. - "I'm not allowed to touch you now? You're like a moody-ass wife."

"And you're my impatient husband. Have anyone told you that patience is a gift?" - He asked with a sigh when he leaned your head backward, slowly drawing circles onto your head. That felt ridiculously hot and relaxing.

"Captain America says bullshit like this in every issue." - You said, biting your lip under that touch. It was really simple, yet somehow getting you all worked up. - "Patience is a virtue."

"It sure is." - Jim's palm slapped your ass to give you a sign that he's done. Jesus, he was in a playful mood that night - and you had his palm literally imprinted on your right buttcheek. With a sigh, you put your bathrobe on and left the bathroom, watching that fucking jackass biting his bottom lip as he tried not to laugh out loud. And God, you felt so in love when he came out of the shower, just drying his hair as you smoked by the table with one of the cabin's windows open.

"What?" - Hopper asked, smiling back at you.

"You're so handsome and I feel like I don't tell you that often enough." - You mumbled back, finishing the cigarette right after, tapping it off.

"Yeah, I'm the princess and you should be kissing my damn hand every time I swin' my breathtaking ass past you." - He agreed, making you laugh once again before he sneaked in in front of you, letting one of the towels to the ground.

"Hopper, the clothes and, ugh..." - You mumbled, bending your head backward, sighing at that man of yours.

"I'll do all of 'em tomorrow." - Jim promised, helping you to stand up before he kissed you.

"You're going to be the fucking death of me, I swear, James Hopper." - You whispered, pulling for another kiss as you tried to get the bathrobe off as quickly as you could, doing the same with the second towel around his ass.

Before you could say anything else, your back was pressed into the table while that bastard put both your knees into a fucking spread eagle. You barely remembered this position being as filling as it was - you just felt your eyes rolling backward when his dick slipped inside. This was the Jim you fell in love with - the man fucking you at a fast pace with his thumb wrapped around that small bundle of nerves between your legs.

You missed this playful sex. You loved the short pauses when he just wiggled his hips to make you shake in arousal, you lived for those small moments when he stopped to smile at you as he just pulled out and then came back in full force, making you squirm. This man was a piece of art and no-one could tell you otherwise.

"Can I come?" - You asked with a teasing smile on your lips, basically touching your ribs with your knees. You didn't know how Jim pulled that one off during each of these sessions, but he turned you into a fucking gymnast when he had his dick buried deep within you.

"Not unless I say so, I'm the law in this cabin." - Jim got out through his gritted teeth when he pulled your ankle on his shoulder, kissing it. - "Put your hand in use, I wanna try somethin' nasty I heard of from Callahan. You're gonna tell me once it'd raise a red flag." - Jim whispered you and you nodded frantically, feeling the rhythm fasten up. You put your hand on your clit, flicking it as a damn DJ vinyl and then you felt it and you screamed, making Hopper completely freeze down with shock in his eyes.

His thumb gently rubbed the back entrance - not getting in, just slowly rubbed around it. You opened up your mouth and your heart rate was literally over the top.

"You didn't like that, am I rite?" - He whispered while breathing heavily, still gently moving inside of you.

"I swear that I didn't know where this came from. It's strange... But that doesn't think I didn't like it. I just need to try more of that." - You reassured him quietly, wiggling your lips a bit.

So he tried it again. You felt a strange tightness every time he brushed over that spot. It made you jump a bit, pulling your buttcheeks together for a small second. You closed your eyes and made a high-pitched noise, shaking a bit. This was giving you a completely different dimension of love-making. It was hugging your whole torso, it wrapped around your head and made your heart beat faster. And then, without any warning, you came.

To be honest, you were basically yelling his name and you banged the back of your head into the table as you did so, shaking a good five minutes after Jim ended with you. You barely knew that Jim came on your belly and boobs because you were out of the world, your head was spinning. Damn this was a sweet treat.

"I think we need to do anniversary sex more often." - You mumbled tiredly, having your eyes closed. The whole feeling was so endearing for you that you couldn't imagine any other way Hopper could fuck you any better. He outdid himself literally every time. - "And I need to thank Callahan, because, holy fucking shit."

"I was that good?" - Jim asked cockily, making you sit up to clean you up with one of the towels.

"This was the best sex I've ever fucking had." - You smiled lazily, pulling him for another kiss. - "And I love you so damn much."

"Same here. But we should put you to sleep or you'd fall asleep right on this table and... I have to clean this damn place up because I promised to." - Jim smiled at you, hugging you tightly, letting your arms circle around his waist.

You were just two people in love and nothing could feel better at that moment.

[robbiekaysfavoritelostgirl]

Robbie Christmas Prompt

Prompts: 13  “Your hands are freezing!” , 

               41, “If you don’t go to sleep right now, Santa’s not coming.” 

               55, “You want to go to the mall now? ARE YOU CRAZY?”

               68 winter proposal 

              and 75.  “Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, love.”

Requested: Yes! And thank you for letting me know which prompt list you were talking about! Made this whole thing a lot easier lol 

  “Your hands are freezing!” I moaned as my four year old nephew placed my hands around my neck, giggling at the look on my face. “What happened to your mittens?” I demanded, pulling his hands away from my neck in order to inspect the pockets of his thick winter coat. 

    “Gone!” He cried, giggling as he leaned forward so his nose, which too was freezing, was pressed against my cheek. I groaned, shaking my head as he began to happily chant about having no mittens. 

   “Get inside you crazy kid.” I sighed, standing up and directing him off towards the living room. Moments later the sounds of “Blue Clues” reached me, followed quickly by his screaming out answers to every silly question that Steve asked. Knowing that I would not be needed anytime soon, I began to search the basket of mittens. I knew my nephew and knew that the moment Robbie arrived home, he was off visiting his sister and his own nephew, that he would drag Robbie outside to play in the snow and would need mittens. When I failed to any mittens there, I quickly searched the “Lion King” bag my brother had sent with Noah cursing when I failed to find any. Another quick search of the rest of my brothers overnight bags turned up no signs of mittens for Noah, which caused me to let out a loud groan.

    “Great.” I huffed, running a hand over my face as I turned towards the living room. “Now I have to go to the damn mall on Christmas Eve.” I could, of course, call my brother and tell him that Noah needed mits but Carter was nervous enough as it was. Since April had left he was afraid of leaving Noah alone, for fear that the little boy would think he was being abandoned by both of his parents and calling him now would only panic him for no reason. 

    “Auntie can I have a cookie?” Noah screamed, his voice barely audible over the sounds of Blue Clues. 

    “Of course.” I answered, smiling as I headed off towards the kitchen. “I am made sugar cookies did you want to decorate them now or wait until Robbie gets here?”

    “Now!” He screamed, turning the TV off as suddenly as he had turned it on and raced out of the living room, nearly crashing into my legs in process. “Do you have sprinkles?” He inquired, only “sprinkles” sound much more like “sprwinles” since he was still have difficulty with his “r”s  

   “Well of course I do, you can make sugar cookies without sprinkles!” I giggled, ruffling his hair as I followed him into the kitchen, his little feet padding against the ilumnu flooring. 

     We had just finished decorating the last cookie, or I should I just finished as he stopped half way through and decided eating the icing and cookies was the best option, when Robbie arrived. 

   “Love?” He screamed out, laughing as Noah let out a cry of pure joy and began racing off towards him, myself hot on his heels. I had turned the corner just in time to see Noah throw himself at Robbie, who was ready for the four year old and was kneeling down with his arms wide open. 

   “We just finished cookies!” I laughed, my smile growing as I watched the two of them.I loved watching them together and couldn’t help but picture what he would look like with our own child. 

   “Perfect! I could use a cookie!” Robbie laughed, untangling himself from Noah and heading towards me. He paused, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before allowing Noah to drag him off to the kitchen. 

   “When your finished your cookie could you maybe go to the mall with me? Little man needs mittens.” I asked, watching as he accepted a cookie, that was more icing and sprinkles than cookie since Noah made it, only to have him pause halfway to his mouth. 

    “You want to go to the mall now? ARE YOU CRAZY!” He demanded, staring at me as if I already was crazy and I may be just that. Going to the mall, which was the only large shopping center in our small town, on Christmas Eve was certainly a crazy idea. However it was the only one I had at the moment, despite forcing an overly excited three year old to stay inside while there was snow outside. 

    “He needs mittens.” I repeated, watching as Noah began to grow impatient with us both. 

   “Who said he can’t just wear a pair that is too big. It’s just for now right?” Robbie laughed, biting into the cookie Noah had prepared and instantly declaring it the best cookie he had ever tasted. “We will just tuck the sleeves of his coat into the mits with him and call it done. No need to go to the mall love, unless you really want to.” 

   “Do I want to go to the mall?” I inquired with a laugh. “Hell no, we will do it your way then. Besides it’s late out already we won’t be out there too long so it should be fine.” Knowing that I no longer had to face the overly crowded mall, I allowed myself to relax. 

    “Robbie outside!” Noah screamed, laughing happily when Robbie nodded. 

    “Let’s go get ready then lil man.” With that Noah was gone, nothing more than a brown haired little streak in a Batman onesie. “Are you going to come outside with us?” 

   “No you two men are going to need hot chocolate for when your done.” 

   “Are you going to make your famous homemade hot chocolate?” When I nodded, giggling at how excited he was. 

   “Yes and I will also get dinner started while I am at it. How does something simple sound, I’m thinking finger foods.” 

   “Sounds perfect to me my love.” He cooed, bending down to press a kiss against to my lips. “Whatever you make is good to me.”

     Robbie and Noah had been playing out in the snow for over an hour, their laughter reaching me through the windows, when my brother arrived home, grunting as Noah no doubt threw himself at his father. Minutes later the three men in my life had made their way inside, all of them covered in snow and cold to the bone. 

    “Take your things off, dinner is ready. We having chinese.” I announced, laughing at the three overly excited cries of approval from the three men in my life. I barely had time to place the full plates out on the table when they were rushing towards it, sitting down and digging in. “Hot chocolate anyone?” It was a rhetorical question but I was answered with grunts nonetheless. I shook my head as I began to pour out the hot chocolate, pausing to kiss each man on my way by before finally settling down at the table beside Robbie and helping myself. 

    “When Santa coming?” Noah demanded between bites of food. Though it came out more as “When Santa woming.” While he could say all three words perfectly, it was growing late and he was getting sleepy, which meant that he was slurring his words. It wouldn’t be much longer until he passed out.  

  “Late tonight when you are asleep. Just like every Christmas.” Carson answered, smiling down at his son. “So that means after dinner and Rudolph it’s time for bed.” Watching Rudolph after dinner Christmas eve was a tradition my mother had started and Noah adored it. 

   “No bed.” Noah cried, the word bed waking him up enough to glare at his father. 

    “Whatever you say little man.” Carson laughed, ruffling Noah’s hair before he turned back to his meal. As dinner went on however, it became clear that Noah was not able to stay awake much longer, especially when he began to doze over his mug of hot chocolate. However when Carson picked him up for bed, he began to protest, sleepy little cries of no bed, ringing throughout the house. 

   “If you don’t go to be right now, Santa’s not coming!” Carson warned, Robbie and I stifling our laughter when Noah instantly fell silent. 

    “Why don’t you come for a walk with me.” Robbie suggested, chuckling softly at my raised brow. “Come on it won’t be to bad now, plus it will be beautiful.”

   “I never said no, I just don’t understand why you suddenly want to go for a walk.”

   “Sudden whims.” He chuckled, smiling as I pushed myself away from the table and headed out to the front hall. 

   “Your lucky I have mittens.” I chuckled, smiling at him as I began to get into hat and mitts. He followed my lead and in less than a minute we were out in the cold, the bitter December wind biting at our faces. “So where to?”

    “Just around is all.” He replied with a shrug, reaching out to wrap my arm around his own. I hummed, taking a step closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. We walked in silence, each of us taking turns to pick a direction. We came to a stop when we reached the river. It was covered in ice and had the moonlight was reflecting of the lake. It was here that I met Robbie for the first time. I taken Noah down to swim in the lake two summers before and ran into him. We started talking and that was the end of it. 

   “Did you know when I first met you I didn’t think love was real. I honestly thought it was just a fairytale. All I had knew of love was that people got hurt. They took advantage of you and left you to mend your trust issues and heart. Then you came along and suddenly I could see why people put so much into it. I knew the moment that I saw you running around trying to collect frogs, while clearly terrified, that you were the type of person that would do anything for the people you love. I also knew then, when you turned to smile widely at me, that you were it. I didn’t even try to fight it you know. As stupid as it sounds you make that cheesy line from twilight real. You know the when where Edward is like, when you came into my life you were like the sun or whatever. You were my sun and it wasn’t until I saw your smile that I noticed I was living in the dark and that I never wanted to return to that. I need you in my life, you make me a better man. So will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife.” As he spoke he fell to one knee, pulling a simple ring from his pocket. Despite being a simple golden band with single diamond in the center, it was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. 

    “Oh Robbie, please get up it’s freezing and yes I will marry you.” I cried, laughing as he instantly jumped to his feet. Before pulling me into a kiss, he slipped the ring on my finger, both of us grinning when it was the perfect fit. As his lips touched mine, it felt like everything was falling to place. 

    “Merry Christmas love.” He whispered as he pulled away, grinning widely at me. 

    “Merry Christmas darling.” I answered, smiling again as I leaned in for another kiss. 

[randizzyy]

7/4/2019 Goodbye to a World.

For the longest time.. I thought being heartbroken was the worst pain I would have to ever live through. I found something 20 or a million times worst.

On the 27th of June at 10am, my mom called while I was at work asking me to come home because my dad was unresponsive. I told her to call 911 and I rushed home. I made it just in time to greet the paramedics and translate what happened between my mom and the paramedics. They told me the hospital and I grabbed some of my mom’s stuff and rushed there. We found out that my dad suffered a stroke and was bleeding heavily in the head. My mom called my dad’s PCP & Cardiologist. They both and a neuro surgeon came to greet us. By 2pm my dad was in the operating room. I took my mom home to get her something to eat and maybe a shower in case we need to stay overnight. By 4pm, we returned. All we could was wait and see how he does with recovery.

Day by day we find news hear and there. Some good, some bad. My dad slowly inched away. By July 1st we get more solid news. The neurologist ran test (EEG). My dad had a stroke that caused brain herniation. Now here we are.. July 4th planning his funeral and my dad is still on life support in the hospital and heavily sedated. I think by next week things should be in order and you can rest dad. I promise.

It’s a been a long a painful week for myself and family.. I didn’t know death could be so hard. I’ve been waking up with thoughts about my dad and it just hurts. He’s not even gone yet. There’s still so much more that needs to be done. I think one of the most painful parts was I was talking to my dad the night before at 6pm just fine. Click, life pulls a fast one. There’s still so much I wanted to do and so much I needed to say. Maybe I can do it here..

Hey Dad,

It’s your only son here, Randall. There’s so much I wanted to say, do, and tell you. Maybe I do have a chance that you’re still physically here in this world.. but people keep visiting and it’s hard to get alone time with you. Maybe this would suffice, I hope it will.

There’s a lot I want to say.. but I was never one to talk. I always tried my best to show you that I loved the best I could. I know I could be hot tempered and we never always saw eye to eye on everything... but I want you to know that I’ve always loved you. I know you loved me too, and all of us. You tried your best with each and everyone of us.. Our situations and the stupid shit we would get into as your children. You did it all. Unconditional love. I know your worrying got on our nerves, but when I cooled down I always knew it was your way of loving us.

I also wanted to tell you I’m sorry. For all my fuck ups I put you through. The stupid arguments we would have all because I couldn’t understand. I’m sorry for my impatience and stupidity. I was dumb and never willing to admit it... and I’m sorry. 

There’s still so much I should have done.. I should have been patient and taught you how to use your phone, just like how you taught me how to ride a bike or drive a car. I should have bought you that new big screen tv, just like how you bought me my first game boy and playstation. You did so much for me... I wanted to repay you back. There were so many days at work where I would day dream about making alot of money and just buying you and mom a nice house and good car. I had so much planned for you to be there. My house, my family, my next graduation, my son. It was all because you made it happen. You did this. I wanted you to see and live it with me.

I know we would argue over the dumbest things over nothing, because we misunderstood each other.. but we were so much more alike then we realize. I learned so much from you. From the basics like bike riding and driving the car to our personality. I think my sense of family and ability to love came from you. You didn’t tell me you love very often, matter fact the last time was my graduation from CSULB, but I always knew. You always showed it. You would buy food just because you see me enjoying it. You would offer to drive me anytime I needed it. You would jump at anything if I needed something. It’s the same way I am with my friends, fam, and family.

I think your sense of worry also found its way to me. I used to drive myself crazy overthinking all scenarios and worried about things that was out of my control. I found my release.. but I don’t think you never found yours.. until it was too much. I’m sorry dad, I saw the signs.. but I didn’t know what to do. I tried to tell you to go relax and have fun.. but here we are.

But hey.. in a few days, you’ll be able to rest. When you’re resting I want you to truly relax okay? I don’t want you to even think twice about mom, me, boo, hai, and chi ba. We’re older now we can handle everything and anything. If not we’ll figure it out. You taught us and raised us to be resilient. We’ll be fine, you raised 4 college graduates. So rest up okay? I expect you to be de-aged by the next time I see you again. I know when you had me, you were alot older. Next time I see you maybe we can play some basketball or something.. or maybe you can show me some of your military drills and practices. But on the real, I want you to rest. Leave this world behind. I know you’ll worry about us, but don’t. I think that’s why it’s hard to let you go. It’ll be hard not having you around anymore.. but it’s better than having you here in a vegetative state and living a shitty life. Live and be free in the next world. I’m sure we’ll all see each other again. Have fun with your buddies, your friends, and your parents. It’ll be awhile, but I’ll see you later okay? Get lots of rest, you’ve been through alot. We’ll meet up later. Love you dad. I will always love you. I hope you know that.

Bye dad, I’ll see you later

-R.

[piecesofscully]

Achluophobia: Monday

Title: Achluophobia: Monday, Part 4 of 4 Author: @piecesofscully Rating: PG-13 - Strong R Timeline: Mid-season 7 Summary: Mulder and Scully are called on to investigate a possible haunting. Notes: Final chapter!  Phew.  If you prefer Ao3, this story will be posted in full there by tonight. Link is in my header/bio.  Again, thank you to @bohoartist for all of her beta and support while writing this.  She was crucial to me finishing this, and was a constant source of support. Also, ½ of the multimedia is because of her.  And thank you to my baeta @kateyes224 for all the love and making my writing is the best it can be.

Friday, Part 1

Saturday, Part 2

Sunday, Part 3

DOMBROWSKI RESIDENCE MONDAY

Lindsey is unusually somber in the morning, laying in bed until well past breakfast, refusing to come out of her room.  She doesn’t budge when Claire taps on the door, or when she sneaks in quietly, doing her best to not create a scene.  These days Claire’s unsure of the best way to proceed with her daughter, seeing as the simplest of things can set her off, so she walks on eggshells and prays for the best.  

It wasn’t always like this.  She remembers what it was like when they were able to communicate, when they were able to talk openly about whatever was on their minds.  It was only a few weeks ago that they would discuss her daughter’s life over morning coffee, making plans for college applications and guessing which football player was next on Rosie’s boyfriend list.  She sighs to herself, wishing for the days when life was easier.  Wishing for the days when her daughter wasn’t a complete stranger.

She tiptoes across the floor and seats herself at the edge of her daughter’s bed.  “Come on sweetheart, you need to get up.  It’s after 10.”

Lindsey keeps her eyes closed.  “Don’t want to.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Claire asks as she places her hand on her daughter’s forehead.  “It doesn’t feel like you’re running a fever.”

She sighs as Lindsey continues to lay still, motionless.  

“Lindsey, you can’t stay in bed all day.  It’s your last day off before school tomorrow.  Don’t you have any homework?”

“I finished it,” she replies simply.

Claire remains seated for another moment, then leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek.  “Alright,” she says softly as she walks to the door.  She turns before walking out and adds, “I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.  You rest.”

Lindsey doesn’t respond.

xxxxx

Mulder, Scully, Jack, and Claire are all seated in the living room, as Mulder presses ‘PLAY’ on the voice recorder.  Static floats through the small speaker for a few minutes before he finally stops the recording.  

“Did you listen to the entire thing?” Jack asks.

“I did,” Mulder says sheepishly. “I woke up a few hours before everyone.”

“And?  Anything?” Jack asks, unable to hide his excitement.

Mulder shakes his head, and they watch Jack’s demeanor deflate.  “All I’m getting is static, unfortunately.”

Claire beams and taps her husband’s arm.  “That’s a good thing right?”

Scully nods, but Mulder’s answer conflicts her positivity.  

“Depends,” he says.  

A look of confusion crosses Claire’s face.  “What do you mean?”

Scully turns to look at Mulder, also confused,  waiting for him to continue.

“It means,” he says finally, “that either you don’t have something in your house, or that there is something here that just doesn't want to talk.”

They all stare at Mulder, dumbfounded. Jack leans towards Mulder, tapping his finger on the table and says,  “But we clearly have something here, there’s really no other explanation.  You both were there, you saw what it did!”

“We did,” Mulder says with a nod.

Scully turns away, biting her lip.  She fights the urge to state that they’re not sure what they saw, that their experiences alone aren’t definitive proof of anything.

Jack stands, and his feet shuffle along the floor as he begins pacing.  “So, what you’re saying is  we have a mute ghost that doesn’t like to be put on the spot.  Heck, maybe we should have let them use the cameras, Claire.”

“But, Lindsey…” Claire protests, visibly stricken.

He pauses in the middle of the room, and rubs his hands over his face.  “I know, I know.”  

“We’re going to take it to some friends of ours, people we trust with this sort of thing, and see what they’re able to extract,” Mulder says, hoping his words are able to offer some hope.  

Jack turns to look at him and asks, “You mean there could be something on there that we can’t hear?”

“It’s unlikely, but it’s possible,” Scully says slowly.

Jack crosses the room and takes his seat next to his wife.  “Ok, yeah, that sounds great.”  

Claire smiles with relief, then stands and walks towards the kitchen. “I’ll start some coffee.”

Jack follows his wife, mumbling an offer to help.  Once they’re out of the room, Scully turns to Mulder and keeps her voice low.

“Mulder, there’s nothing but static. Why are we taking it to the Lone Gunmen?”

“That was the plan originally.”

She chuffs.  “With the stipulation that we caught something…”

Mulder leans his elbows to his knees, pursing his lips.  He turns the device over in his hand and presses ‘FF,’ then ‘PLAY.’  He does this a few times, absentmindedly, the static cutting into their silence in short, intermittent bursts.  The last time he lets it continue a moment longer, then stops.

“Did you hear that?” He asks.  He turns the volume up and plays it again.

Scully leans closer, putting her ear a few inches from the speaker.  “That? Um, a rustling maybe?”

“Yeah, it’s something.”

“Mulder,” Scully starts as she leans back into her chair.  “It’s probably their daughter.  Lindsey woke up in the middle of the night, you spoke to her.  It must have captured her leaving her room.”

“Could be,” he says, nodding.  “Let’s have the boys take a listen and see what they’re able to come up with.  Just humor me, Scully.”  

She smiles.  “I always do.”

xxxxx

LAIR OF THE LONE GUNMEN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

“OK, so I’ve uploaded the MP3 into our software, and isolated and trimmed down the recording.  I did my best to clean it up and reduce the background noise,” Langly explains as he clicks his mouse a couple times.  “It’s still a little muffled.”

They all huddle around the computer, and watch as the line on the monitor goes from a flat baseline reflecting the low white noise that emits from the speakers, to a spike in the audio line and a displaced sounding voice slices through the silence.  

“Did you hear that?  What did it say?”  Byers asks.

“Play it again, Langly,”  Mulder states.  

“Let me clean it up a bit more…” Langly mutters.  “Ok, here we go.”

They all lean close to the speakers as the recording plays again.  

“Something the dark?” Mulder asks.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” Frohike says.

“No, that’s not right,” Scully says, then motions towards the computer’s monitor.  “Again.”

Langly obliges, and it plays once more.

“Into...” Scully’s voice fades as her brows furrow.  “Into the dark...Come into the dark.”

Langly and Byers take a step back from the computer.  Frohike whistles lowly as he leans into the desk, then asks, “Where was the device located?”

“Their son’s bedroom,” Scully answers slowly as she stares at the device wide eyed.  “He was sleeping with his parents; his room was empty.”

“You’re sure?” Frohike asks.

“Absolutely,” Scully says.

xxxxx

DOMBROWSKI RESIDENCE

Mulder taps on the door, and it’s immediately opened to reveal a somber looking Jack.  

“We need to talk,” Jack says, ushering the two agents inside.

“Everything okay?” Mulder asks, exchanging concerned glances with Scully as they enter the living room.  They’re met with a visibly upset Claire who dabs a tissue at her reddened eyes as she paces the floor, and Lindsey and Rosie sitting side by side on the large couch.   

“Not really,” Jack says as he sits on the other couch.  Claire takes her place next to him as Jack motions for Mulder and Scully to take a seat in the chairs.  They sit.  

“Lindsey,” Claire says in a hushed tone. “I want you to tell Mulder and Miss Dana what you just told us.”

Scully relaxes into her chair as Mulder leans forward towards the girls, his elbows placed on his knees.

“This is, um,” Lindsey starts, pauses momentarily to look at Rosie, then sighs.  “This is our fault.”

Scully tilts her head to the side slightly, then asks, “How so?”

“Start from the beginning, sweetheart,” Jack says.  

“Well, a few weeks ago, Mom and Dad took Joey on a retreat that our church was hosting.  I wasn’t feeling good, so I asked to stay home.  I mean, it was just an overnight thing, not like they were gonna be gone for the whole weekend or anything.  

“A few hours after they left, though, I was feeling better.  I think my fever broke or something, I don’t know.  Anyways, I called and asked Rosie if she wanted to come stay the night.  I was kinda worried about being home alone, I’d never been home alone for that long before.”

“You said you’d be okay,” Claire says softly to her daughter.

“I was,” Lindsey says quickly.  “I was okay, and then, I dunno, I wasn’t.  I figured I’d feel better if I had someone else here, and Rosie stays the night all the time, so I thought Mom and Dad wouldn’t care.”

“She stays the night all the time?” Mulder asks Lindsey, then shifts his gaze directly at Rosie.  Both girls stare back doe-eyed, then finally nod.

“You weren’t aware that Rosie had stayed the night?” Scully asks Jack and Claire.  

“We didn’t have cell service at the retreat, so she wouldn’t have been able to call and ask permission,” Jack responds.

“You didn’t tell your parents when they came home the next day?” Scully asks Lindsey.  

“No.”

“Why?” Scully asks gently.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Lindsey answers.  She then casts a pleading look to her parents, “I really didn’t. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“So, then what happened?” Scully asks.

“We got bored pretty quickly,” Lindsey continues, “so Rosie suggested we play a game.”

“The Midnight Man,” Rosie says, speaking for the first time since Mulder and Scully sat down.  When Mulder and Scully look at her confused, she adds, “The game, that’s what it’s called.  My cousin told me about a friend of hers who played, and it totally freaked her out.”

“It was harmless,” Lindsey says. “It’s just a stupid game that people play at sleepovers and whatever.”

“What’s the premise of the game?” Mulder asks.

“You, uh...” Lindsey starts.

“You invite the Midnight Man into your house to chase you in the dark,” Rosie finishes.

Claire whines softly and leans into Jack, who promptly puts his arm around his wife.  Mulder and Scully catch the look of shame that crosses Lindsey’s face as she watches her father embrace her mother.  

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Lindsey whispers as her hands fidget in her lap.

“Ladies,” Mulder says, “who is this Midnight Man?”

Lindsey’s mouth opens as she starts to say something, but then closes it tight and purses her lips.  

“He’s like a demon or something,” Rosie says.  

“A demon?” Claire cries.  “How could you...  Lindsey, we’ve discussed this so many times; no seances, no tarot cards, and definitely no Ouija boards.  Not in this household.  What on God’s green earth made you think that playing this game was okay?”

“Is this normally an area of interest for you, Lindsey?” Scully asks.

“No!” Lindsey answers.  “I know better.”

“Honey,” Jack says with a tone of warning in his voice, “you knowingly invited the Devil into our home.  Clearly you don’t know better.”

Rosie stares at her hands in her lap while Lindsey groans and rolls her eyes.  “You’re being dramatic, Dad.  It wasn’t like that.”

“That’s exactly what it’s like, Lindsey,” Claire says.  “Games like that are not to be taken lightly.  They’re dangerous.”

Mulder clears his throat.  “Could you tell us about the game?”

“Like how you play?”  Lindsey asks.

He nods.  “Walk me through it, from the beginning.”

Lindsey sighs and leans back into the cushions of the couch.  “You gotta begin before midnight.  Like, I dunno, ten or fifteen minutes, I guess?  Long enough to do all the preparation stuff.  You write your name, your full name, on a piece of paper and then sign it with a drop of your blood.”

“Your blood?  A blood oath?” Mulder asks.

Lindsey shrugs.  “If that’s what you call it, yeah.  Then you go and turn off all the lights in the house, because it has to be completely dark.  Put your paper in front of a door-”

“A wooden door,” Rosie says.

“Right,” Lindsey says nodding, “a wooden door.”

“Why wooden?”  Scully asks.

“Because the directions say so,” Rosie snaps.  

“Anyways,” Lindsey interjects, “you light your candle and put it on the paper, then knock on the door twenty-two times.  The last knock has to be at the stroke of midnight.”

“Exactly at the stroke of midnight,” Rosie says.  “Then you open the door, blow out your candle, and then close the door.”

“And then immediately relight your candle.”

“Lindsey,” Claire says, her voice weak with surprise, “that’s why...all of your candles.   All this time.”

Lindsey nods. “Yeah.”

“What happens after you relight your candle?” Mulder asks.

Rosie glances at Lindsey for a moment and then says, “Then the game begins.”

Scully places her hand on Mulder’s bouncing knee to still it while the girls sit quietly.  Whispers between the parents that had started softly grow more frantic, with Claire gesturing towards their daughter while Jack shushes her.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” Lindsey says.

“Oh, honey,” Claire says with a resigned sigh.  “I know you are.”

“Lindsey?” Scully asks.  “What is the object the game?  How do you win?”

“You have to keep moving.  You can’t let him get you,” Lindsey answers.

“How do you know if he’s getting close?”  Scully asks.

“Your candle will blow out.”

“Did your candle blow out when you were playing a few weeks ago?”

Lindsey and Rosie both nod.

“How many times?” Scully asks.

“Like 5 or 6?” Lindsey replies.

“Ha,” Rosie chuffs.  “More like at least 10.  We could barely keep our candles lit!”

“Well if you weren’t breathing so heavily, maybe-” Lindsey starts.

“Me?” Rosie shrieks.  “Linds, you were breathing so heavily that you put the Big Bad Wolf to shame.  Thank God I stole one of my mom’s new lighters; I would have been out of lighter fluid and sitting in a circle of salt an hour in.”

“A circle of salt?” Scully asks.

Claire nudges Jack and whispers, “That’s where my salt went!”

“Yeah,” Rosie says.  “You carry it with you in case you can’t get your candle relit within 10 seconds.  Like a circle of protection.  You make the circle and sit in it for the rest of the game.”

“And how do you know when the game ends?” Scully asks.

“At 3:33am on the dot, it’s over,” Lindsey says, then shrugs.  “It just ends.”

“And this Midnight Man, he just leaves,” Mulder states.

Both girls nod.

“Except,” Mulder adds, “this time he didn’t.”

“We must have done something wrong,” Lindsey says while shaking her head.  “We followed all the rules, didn’t we Rosie?”

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Rosie says.  “My cousin did say that he’s supposed to leave at the end, but that by inviting him in there’s always a chance that he might not, ya know, go.”

Mulder glances at Scully, who’s already looking at him with her eyebrow raised.  

Lindsey gasps.  “Wait, what?”

Rosie looks at her friend, and asks,  “What?”

“You never told me that!” Lindsey exclaims with piercing eyes as she backs away from Rosie a few inches.

“I did!”

“No, Rosie, you didn’t!  I wouldn’t have ever played this stupid game in the first place if I’d have known-”

“Girls,” Claire warns.

“-that he might not leave!” Lindsey finishes with throwing her hands in the air.

“Whatever, Lindsey, this isn’t my fault, it was just a game-” Rosie says.

“That’s torturing my family, Rosie!”  Lindsey yells.

“Girls!” Claire yells over the arguing, and they fall silent.  “Now is not the time.”

“But Mom-”  Lindsey starts.

“No,” Claire says pointing at her daughter.  “The game was played, this Midnight Man was invited into our home, and we need to end this.  You two bickering isn’t going to solve anything, so just knock it off.”

As they both utter apologies, Mulder turns to Scully.  She offers him a tight smile, then turns to the parents and says, “I think we need to talk to the church.  See if we can get them involved, request for them to cleanse the house.”

“You really think that’s the only solution?” Jack asks.

“Jack, Mulder and I feel that’s the best solution here,” Scully says as Mulder nods in agreement.  “We don’t possess the experience, nor the proper training, to perform the exorcising of a house.”

“Isn’t there someone else you could call?  In your line of work, you must know of someone,” Jack says.

“I could make a few calls, ask around,” Mulder responds, “but it could take me a few days to find someone with the right credentials and training.”

“I’ll fix it,” Lindsey says quietly.

The adults turn to look at her.

“What?” Jack gasps.

“I’ll play again,” Lindsey says with a quick glance at Rosie, who’s mouth is agape.  “I’m going to fix it by playing again.”

“By inviting him back in?” Claire shrieks.

“How can you be sure that it’ll work?”  Scully asks.  

“He’s already here.  Playing the game is what brought him here, so maybe playing again will make him go away.  It has to work,” Lindsey says staring directly at Scully, trying her best to keep her voice from wavering by sitting up straighter.  “It has to.”

“Lindsey, I don’t-” Rosie starts.

“No, Rosie.  I’m playing alone this time.  Just me.”

Jack stands suddenly, jerking his chair back.  “No, this...it can’t be the only way.  No way, not again, young lady. You can’t do this!” he nearly yells pointing at his daughter.   

Mulder stands and interjects.  “We will.”

“You’ll what?” Lindsey asks

Scully looks quickly to Mulder, her eyes wide.  He glances back at her, then turns his eyes to the parents.  

“Rosie and Lindsey can write down the directions for us.  Jack and Claire, you two take the kids to a motel tomorrow night.”

“Mulder,” Scully starts, and grabs his hand.

“Scully.”  

“You would do that?” Jack asks.

“We couldn’t ask you to,” Claire says.

Mulder squeezes Scully’s hand gently, his eyes pleading with her.  “Scully,” he repeats.

She licks her lips and then shifts her gaze to the parents.  “We’ll play.”

xxxxx

It’s just after 11pm when the family is bustling around the house, gathering last minute belongings before their late night departure.  The few phone calls placed to nearby hotels earlier in the day had all produced the same response; no vacancies due to the pharmaceutical sales convention.  Thankfully, Claire had said after placing the receiver in it’s cradle, her mother was a night owl, and was more than happy to put them up for the night.  

Lindsey stands in the foyer with her shoulders slumped forward, and her eyes focused on the toe of her shoe.  She barely looks up as her mother calls out a ‘thank you’ and shuffles past her out the front door.  Or as Jack passes her to cross into the living room and shakes hands with Mulder and Scully.

“I don’t think she can get out of here fast enough,” Jack says with a  nervous chuckle.  “I can’t thank you enough, both of you, for doing this.”

“Not a problem,” Mulder says.  “Just have a safe trip, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“If you have any issues at all, here’s the number for where we’ll be staying,” Jack says as he slips Scully a piece of paper.  “My mother-in-law is hard of hearing, so the ringer will wake us out of a dead sleep if you call.”

“We’ll be fine,” Scully reassures him.  

Jack smiles and shifts the strap of the duffle bag on his shoulder.  “Be safe, you two,” he adds softly before turning to exit out the front door.    

Joey ambles into the living room where Mulder and Scully stand, wearing his jacket and a backpack full to the hilt with toys.  

“We’re going to grandma’s for the night.”

Mulder squats down.  “Yeah, I heard that.  Should be fun, right?”

“She has a dog named Gunner,” he says excitedly, then looks to Scully.  “Do you like dogs, Miss Dana?”

“I do,” she answers as she squats down next to Mulder. “I used to have a dog, Queequeg.”

Joey’s eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunches.  “What kind of dog is that?”

Scully chuckles.  “Queequeg was his name.”

“Oh,” he says nodding his head.  

“Joey, come on,” Lindsey calls gently from the front door.

“One sec,” Joey yells.  Mulder is surprised when Joey leans in and wraps his arms around his neck.  “You’re gonna make him go away, right?”

“We’ll try, buddy,” Mulder says as he rubs small circles on Joey’s back.  “We’re really gonna try.”

“‘K,” Joey responds meekly as he pulls back, allowing Mulder to stand and help Scully to her feet.

“Come on, Joey,” Lindsey calls again.  “Mom and Dad are waiting.”

Joey throws his arms around Scully’s waist quickly, but before she can place his hands on his back to return the show of affection, he’s disconnected and running out the front door.  

Moments later, Mulder and Scully walk around the house, turning lights off one by one.  As they continue from one room to the next, the atmosphere gradually turns unsettling as the darkness grows behind them, seemingly chasing them into the last bit of remaining light.

“You don’t think this is a waste of time?” Scully asks as they flick the light off in the master bedroom.  “If there is something in this house as a result of a game, playing the game again doesn’t necessarily mean that it’ll leave.”

Mulder follows her out of the room and they begin descending the stairs.  “It’s more two-sided than that.  Most people tend to believe that if you ignore a spirit, it’ll go away.  If the Dombrowski’s believe that whatever is haunting their house is gone, perhaps it really will leave.  No more negative energy to feed it.”

Scully leads him into the kitchen where their supplies sit on the countertop.  “Do you still believe that it’s a poltergeist?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.

“What was the other side?”

“To what?” Mulder asks.

“You said our playing was two-sided.”

“Ah, right,” he says as he hands her a pen.  “It could really be the Midnight Man, and perhaps our playing his game will effectively terminate his stay.”

“You make it sound like their house is the Holiday Inn,” Scully deadpans as she proceeds to write her name on a piece of paper.  “So, we’re the sacrificial lambs in this situation.”

Mulder pulls a pocket knife out of his pocket and lays it on the counter between them.  “Better us than their fifteen-year old daughter.”

Scully stares at him for a moment, then picks the knife up, flips it open, and takes the blade to her finger.  A small bubble of blood pools under the tip.

“Not wasting any time, are we?” Mulder asks.

Scully wipes the blood under her name on the paper, then hands him the knife.  “Like you said, Mulder.  It’s better that it’s us.”

xxxxx

The second hand on Scully’s watch strikes midnight just as Mulder knocks from the inside on the front door for the twenty second time.

“Twenty-two right?” Mulder asks.

“Yes.”

They open the door and blow their candles out per the instructions, then close and lock the door behind them.  Mulder pulls a lighter from his pocket and relights their candles. They stand side by side in the foyer gazing into the dark house, and Scully can’t shake the nervous flutters in her belly.  The last few nights have wreaked havoc on her nerves, and the idea of walking through someone else’s home for three and a half hours, in the dark no less, doesn’t thrill her.  She just wants to get this over with and go home.  With a sigh, she crosses into the living room and sits on the edge of the couch.  

“What are you doing?” Mulder asks, walking towards her.  “The rules say we need to keep moving.”

“Since when do you follow rules, Mulder?”

He stands in front of her, the toes of his shoes brushing her own.  “Scully.”

Scully leans back into the couch and cautiously rests the bottom of the candle on her thigh.  “I’m waiting.  If I sit still, the Midnight Man will show up, right?  So, let’s get the introductions out of the way.”

She doesn’t fight Mulder as he grasps her hand, and allows him to pull her to her feet.  She doesn’t argue as he slowly leads her into the dining room.  It’s an odd sensation to be led through someone else’s dark home, she thinks.  Uncomfortable.  Foreign.  If it were her own apartment, she would be able to do it with ease, just as she has many times before.  Scully can think of several nights where she’s done exactly this, knowing when to turn just so in order to miss the corner of the entertainment center, the exact path to take to the bathroom without stubbing a toe on her dresser.  

Mulder’s apartment, however, with all of the clutter that sits stuffed into corners and at the ends of the couch, she’d be asking for a broken ankle.

“Did you ever play games like this as a teenager, Scully?”

“We tried a few,” she replies as they sidestep a chair at the table.  “Bloody Mary, a seance or two, light as a feather.”

“Did any of them work?”

“No,” she chuckles.  “They lifted me about half an inch from the floor, which resulted in my friend Gwen going to the hospital to get a splint for her sprained finger.”

They weave around the back of the table, and cross the threshold into the kitchen.  The air still smells warm and spicy, like the baked apple pie Claire had made the evening before.  Even with the homey aroma, Scully still feels on edge, as if she’s waiting for someone to jump out from around the corner.  Each turn they’ve made, however, has revealed nothing but the next room.

“Want some water or something while we’re in here?” Mulder asks.

“I’m fine,” she responds.

The floorboards creak under their feet as they continue their journey through the lower level of the house.  As she follows him back to the front of the house, Scully’s heart begins to thud in her chest as the distance between them and the staircase shortens.  

Don’t be ridiculous, she tells herself as they approach the first stair.  It’s just a stupid game.

Just then, her candle begins to flicker from an unseen rush of wind.  

“Mulder, I think my candle’s about to go out.”

He looks back, then wordlessly hands her the lighter just in case.  He gestures towards the staircase, silently asking if she would like to go first.  She rolls her eyes and squares her shoulders in feigned confidence, then pushes past him.

“Better move quickly,” Mulder teases as she passes.  “When your candle blows out it means he’s close.”  

“It didn’t blow out, Mulder.  It just flickered.”

She can feel the warmth of him directly behind her as she takes the stairs slowly, the glow of their candles lighting their way.  It still radiates against her as they stand at the top landing, but she doesn’t move.  The hallway stands long before her, all of the doors still open from their first foray earlier when they turned off all the lights.   

A ball forms in her upper belly as she stares down the corridor, one she can’t quite place.  The hallway seems to grow in length under her gaze, drawing out before her eyes.  She feels Mulder’s hand graze her lower back, urging her on, and the feeling rushes through her forcefully.

Fear.

“Scully,” he whispers.

She shakes her head upon feeling his breath against her cheek and inhales sharply, pushing the paralyzing emotion aside.  “Yeah, let’s go.”  

Mulder keeps close behind her as they take their time walking down the hallway and through each room on the upper level.  Scully is relieved to find everything in order as they push on, a comfortable silence falling between them.  Later when they find themselves in the living room, back where they started, Mulder scoffs at the realization that only an hour has passed.

“Maybe we’re missing something,” he ponders.  

Scully sits on the couch.  “What do you mean?”

“Nothing’s happening,” he says with a clear hint of disappointment in his voice.  “Maybe we missed a step, can I see the paper?”

Scully pulls it from her pocket and hands it to him.  “We didn’t miss anything.  We did exactly as was written.”

He runs down the paper, mumbling as he reads.  “Salt.”

“Hmm?”

He taps the paper and says, “We forgot to grab the salt.”  

“For the circle of protection,” she replies.  “That we haven’t needed.  Because nothing has happened.”

Mulder hums noncommittally in response as he walks towards the kitchen with Scully in tow.  He rummages through a few cupboards until he finds a small container of salt, and slips it into his pocket.

As they journey through the house another time, Scully marvels at the feeling of ease that settles through her.  The fear has dissipated, the anxiety that had crippled her earlier has now melted into boredom.  She passes a glance at Mulder as they climb the stairs to the upper level again, noticing his change in posture.  He’d started out determined, giddy even, she thinks.  But now his shoulders hang, and she knows that his slow pace has nothing to do with the fact that the game calls for it.

“What do you think would draw Lindsey to a game like this?”  Mulder asks.

Scully shrugs.  “Like you said, curiosity.  Rebelling against parents who tell you not to do something.”

“Her parents just seemed so appalled.  It’s been drilled into her for years not to-”

The light in the room dims under the glow of a single candle as Mulder’s candle extinguishes.  

“Scully…”

“Relight it, Mulder.”

“I can’t find the lighter,” he says, patting his pockets.  

A shiver dashes over Scully’s body as the room grows colder, her eyes immediately darting around their surroundings, searching for the source of the chill.  

“Mulder…”

“I’m working on it, Scully.”  

A creak in the hallway catches her attention, and she turns back to look out the door way.  Another creak sounds, closer than the last.  Her heart begins to beat rapidly in her chest as her eyes stay glued to the room’s entrance and the darkness that lay stagnant behind it, waiting for something to appear.  

When she turns to call for Mulder, he’s already at her side relighting his candle using the flame of her own.  His free hand skims across her hips, his fingertips lightly brushing over her hipbones.  

“Now’s not really the time,” she says dully with a raised eyebrow.

He smirks as his hand slips into her pocket and pulls out the lighter.

“Did you feel that?” he asks.  “The temperature dropped.”

“It’s an old house,” she says.  “Drafty”.  

“Must have been one hell of a draft to blow my candle out, Scully.”  

She stares at him, unsure of what to say.  Scully shuffles her feet with pursed lips, shifting her weight from foot to foot.  After a long beat of silence, Mulder motions for her to follow him to the lower level.

“How much longer do we have left?” Mulder asks as they pass the front door.

“About an hour and a half,” Scully says after glancing at her watch.  “We’ll have walked every inch of this house 20 times by the time 3:33 am rolls around.”

“The basement,” Mulder says suddenly.  “We haven’t walked the basement.”  

Tucked in the back corner of the kitchen sits a nondescript wooden door.  It’s discreet, easy to look past if you’re not looking for it.  She follows Mulder down the narrow stairway, her hand sliding down the concrete walls to maintain her balance as she steps deeper into the depths of the household.  Faintly, she can hear Mulder chatter nonchalantly about the lowest level of the house, warning her of battered shelving and items scattered throughout.  

The air is significantly cooler, moist at the end of the stairway.  Somewhere in the distance she can hear the faint hum of a dehumidifier running, though judging from the the hair already curling around her face, it’s hardly doing its job.  Mulder grasps her hand, pulling her deeper into the dark, dank basement.  

The concrete floor is lined with wooden shelving, housing cardboard boxes that are slightly warped from moisture and plastic bins labeled with holidays span the length of walls.  The brush of something across her face startles her, and she jerks backwards brushing her hand briskly across her face.  

“Oh God,” she mumbles.

“You ok?”

“It’s just, I think…” She brushes her face again. “...it’s a cobweb.”

Mulder holds his candle close to her face and helps pick off the remaining sticky bits.  “Better?”

She hums in response, momentarily stunned by his face in the candle light.  His features less defined by the harsh light of the world, softened.  His hazel eyes glow under the flickering light, giving him an angelic look.  

Her hand snakes up his chest and her fingers curl around his collar, pulling him to her, bringing his lips to hers.  His mouth is warm, a stark contrast from the cool air that surrounds them, and she hums under his touch.  

“When do we go home?” he asks, his face still close to hers.

“In the morning,” she muses as his hand travels down her back and across her ass.

They’re interrupted by a heavy thump above them, followed by dragging across the hardwood floor, sounding as if someone dropped a piece of furniture then lugged it across the room.

“Did you lock the door when you closed it?” Mulder asks as he heads back towards the narrow stairway.

Scully nods, “Of course.”

“Are you sure?”  

“I’m positive, Mulder.”

They climb the stairs quietly, and emerge in the kitchen.  All of the furniture appears to be in place as they inspect the lower level, all couches and tables accounted for and in their appropriate places.  

“Mulder, there’s nothing here,” Scully states as he checks each dining room chair for evidence of movement.  

“Just one more-”

THUMP

Mulder and Scully both look to the ceiling.

“Upstairs,” Scully whispers.

As they climb the stairs to the upper level, the nervous flutter in Scully’s belly returns, growing with each step she ascends.  She covers her mouth to stifle a gasp as she turns to peer down the hallway.  

Every door that lines the hallway is now closed.  Each bedroom, the bathroom, even the closet.  

“We didn’t…” Scully starts.

“No,” Mulder whispers, “we left them open.”

Mulder turns the knob to the master bedroom, then stops to peer at Scully.  “Do you want to stay here?”

“I’m going with you.”

Her anxiety rises with every closed door they come to, crescendoing with each turn of the knob, reaching climax as she crosses the threshold, only to crash as they declare each room clear.  The rollercoaster of emotion has her exhausted as they approach the last room, Lindsey’s bedroom.

The door opens silently before them as they approach it, swinging ajar a few inches before they’re able to grasp the doorknob.  Scully stops mid-step and grabs Mulder’s arm, pulling him towards her and away from the door.  

“Did you…” She swallows her words, unable to finish her question.  She locks eyes with Mulder as she grips his arm tighter.  He gives her a subtle nod, then pushes through the doorway.  

The darkness that lay behind the threshold smells rich and musky, the persistent odor of mothballs assaulting their senses as Mulder pulls Scully into the room.  The familiar scent turns Scully’s stomach, and she fights the urge to turn back.  Instead, she stands still, watching as Mulder cautiously walks about the room.  His attention is focused on the posters that are hung on the walls, the trinkets that line Lindsey’s dresser, the stout candles that sit atop the bedside table.  

Behind them, the floorboards creak as the door shuts, the snick of the latch engaging resounding in the small space.  She tries to call for Mulder, but his name evaporates from her lips.  Time seems to slow exponentially, her focus fading as the world around her seems to be dragging to a glacial pace.  Darkness spills like watercolor around the edges of her vision as all control over her body vanishes.

She feels heavy and weightless at the same time, as if every single molecule in her body buzzing with life as the world around her is smothering her from existence.

Paralyzed, she watches as Mulder moves towards her, his movements fluid and sluggish.  His mouth moves but all she’s able to hear is the sound of blood rushing in her ears with the underlying crunching of static.  In a hazy blur she watches as he flicks a lighter, the sparks shatter in the darkness like the brief burst of a firework. His mouth continues to move as a chill rushes over her body, stealing the breath from her lungs.  

As the darkness continues to envelop her, she barely registers the dense shadowy silhouette that forms behind Mulder, it’s edges swirling and protruding.  She wants to warn him, to beg him to turn around, to scream, but she can’t.  She can’t even gasp.

The waves of static swell in her ears, it’s rhythm taking form with each rolling surge.

Come…in…

Her chest feels heavy with the weight of fear as she tries to gasp for air.

To...the…

Goosebumps ripple across her skin as the feeling of ice cold fingertips brush the skin of her neck.

Darkness

Her vision goes completely dark.

Tick, tick, tick

Then suddenly she’s bathed in the dim light from a candle, and thrust back into herself.  She gasps, gulping in air as warmth floods through her body, normalizing the balance between her and her surroundings.  

“-you hear me, Scully?  Hey, hey Scully.”

His hands are all over her, touching her face, her shoulders, her hair.

“That was a close one,” she hears him say with a chuckle.  “Did you feel the dip in temperature in here?  I swear as I was counting down from ten I could feel the temperature fall.”

Dazed, she forces herself to nod.  

“Hey, we’re almost done,” he says as he looks at his watch.  “Let’s head back downstairs.”

By the time they step into the foyer the game is nearly over.  The papers with their names burns brightly in the kitchen sink as Mulder drones on about Scully being right, that the game was a waste of time.  She hums in agreement at the appropriate times as he recalls the last few hours, watching as the sole evidence of the night’s occurrences washes down the drain. 

 xxxxx

RESIDENCE OF FOX MULDER 4:15AM

As they walk into his apartment, the first thing Scully notices is the smell.  The musky scent of old paper from the stacks of folders on the desk, the crisp Downy laundry softener, and a hint of his aftershave permeate the stale air.  She feels his arms wrap around her waist from behind and she can’t help but smile to herself.  

It smells like home.  

His fingers play lightly at the hem of her shirt, lightly grazing her stomach underneath, sending shivers across her skin.  Her arms seem to raise of their own volition as he pulls her top over her head, dropping it to the floor.  He takes his time removing her clothing from behind, his fingertips trailing over the sensitive skin here, his nails scraping lightly over the delicate muscles there.  

His breath comes in short, warm rushes against her neck, punctuated with a kiss for each piece of clothing removed.  It isn’t until she’s standing fully naked that she’s able to register the warmth that surrounds her, a warmth that only his body can provide.  

It feels like home.

Her face is turned by the gentle pull of her chin, the tip of his nose grazing her own.  His fingers slide to the back of her neck, burrowing into the back of her hair.  Her lips part in anticipation as she feels the rush of his breath on her face.  He tastes sweet, like honeysuckle on a warm summer’s night, when his mouth finds hers.  

It tastes like home.

Her eyes feel heavy with exhaustion as he leads her wordlessly into his bedroom and eases her onto her back, but her body comes alive under the weight of him sliding over her.   The gasp of her name escapes his lips as he enters her, driving away the tension within with each deep thrust and scrape of his teeth against her neck.  The vibration of his voice reverberates through her as he chants her name, the climax building inside of her as his volume increases.

His shoulder muffles his name as she moans it in release, her own repeated one final time as he follows her over the edge.

It sounds like home.  

Later when their limbs are tangled and their dewy skin has been replaced with goose pimpled flesh from the slight chill in the air, Scully quietly recounts her experience from a few hours earlier.  His fingers play lazily up and down her spine, listening as she weaves the details of her story.

“Was it him?” she asks as Mulder pulls the sheet higher over them, covering the cool skin of her shoulder that lay across his chest.

His voice is soft and without judgement when he responds, “Tell me what you think.”

She lifts her eyes to his face, his profile barely visible in the sliver of moonlight that enters the bedroom, and commits each detail to memory as she’s done many times before.  The length of his forehead, the slight dip before his prominent nose, the pout of his lips.  

It looks like home.

“I think,” she says softly before pressing her lips to his jawline, “that it feels good to be home.”

xxxxx

EPILOGUE 2 WEEKS LATER

DANA SCULLY RESIDENCE SUNDAY 10:01AM

Scully’s phone rings atop the nightstand next to her bed, its high-pitched tone blaring into the quiet bedroom.  Mulder grumbles as he rolls to his side, slapping his hand across the table’s surface before making contact with the phone.

He flips it open.  “Mulder.”

“Fox?”

“Mrs. Scully?” he asks, sitting up in bed.  

“Oh dear, did I call the wrong number?”

Mulder nudges a sleeping Scully awake and points to the phone, mouthing that it’s her mother.  “No, this is Dana’s phone.  I must have, uh, must’ve answered it-”

Scully grabs the phone, putting it to her ear.  “Hi, Mom.”

“Dana, I’m so sorry, is it a bad time?”

Mulder mouths that he’s sorry, and Scully waves him off.  “No, you’re fine, it’s fine.”

“I was just calling to tell you that I saw Jack and Claire Dombrowski at church today, and they seem to be doing well.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Scully says.  “We haven’t heard from them since we received their email last week, so we were hoping that no news was good news.”

“Must be.  Claire stopped me after the service.  She said everything was going much better, and that their children were back to normal.  Oh, and to make sure that I told you her family says thank you again.”

“That’s great to hear, Mom.”

“Alright, sweetheart, well I have to get going.  I promised Billy I’d give him a call, but you and Fox have a good day.”

“You too, Mom.  Love you.”

Scully hands Mulder the phone, who places it back on the nightstand.

“Everything okay?” he asks as he spoons into the back of her.

Scully smiles and pulls Mulder’s arm around her.  “Everything’s perfect.”

xxxxx

DOMBROWSKI RESIDENCE 1:13AM

Lindsey lays in bed, the ending chords of The Cranberries ‘Linger’ flowing through her headphones.  In just the few weeks after what her family calls ‘the situation,’ her life has become lighter, going back to normal.  As soon as she walked in the door that last day, the morning after the agents had played the game, she could feel a difference in the atmosphere.  It took some time, but they were finally able to trust that their house was clean from whatever had been oppressing them, haunting them.  Joey began sleeping in his room again, and her parents seemed happier.  

They are finally free, Lindsey thinks.  

She yawns and turns to her side, staring at the candles that burn next to her bed.  A smile spreads across her face as she watches the shadows dance along the opposite wall.

Then suddenly the flames extinguish, thrusting her back into the darkness.

The End

[cutecats2017]

Let me start off with a disclaimer: Some of my questions may seem/imply that I care about the "bottom line" of pet ownership, primarily along the lines of resources required (time and money, etc.) This is not because I'm acting like a pet would be a luxury item; rather, I want to make sure that I can properly take care of an animal and ensure it has a safe, comfortable home.I have had some experience in helping take care of animals (parents have had and still have dogs, and had one cat while I was growing up until about 16 or so.) I guess what isn't really clear to me, or I never really thought about 10 years ago, were what went into the equation that I didn't realize.1.) How much time is a reasonable time for cats to be alone? Which is to say, if I'm away from home for about 30 hours, will they make an unreasonable mess, poop on the floor, eat all their food and drink all their water in the first 3 hours and starve, etc.? (Do one or more of these 'problems' depend on the individual cat?) I ask this, 30 hours or so specifically, because I am in the Navy and, about once a week, "stand duty", which is to say I have to stay aboard the ship overnight and through the next workday. I will be leaving my current command before they deploy and will be staying in the area besides, so no worries about leaving my cat alone for half a year or more due to deployment; but duty days are still a very real hurdle. Also, the litter box question: Two litter boxes, perhaps? A very large single one? Three, more?2.) On average, assuming I opt for 'average'/'middle-of-the-road' cat food, litter, etc., how much financial overhead should I expect to keep available for pet expenses? Again, NOT asking because I'm greedy, I just do not want to put an animal through the pain of being adopted (planning to adopt, btw) and then giving it back to the shelter when I can't afford it anymore (in effect treating it like some toy or something).3.) On that note: Would you recommend to adopt a grown cat, kitten, or buy a bred cat? I have no specific breed I'm looking for, perfectly fine with a Domestic mongrel.Thanks in advance for any advice you might have, and if anything else pops up I'll follow-up in reply chains. via /r/cats