#season 11 and beyond

[jarpadandjensens]

#SPNWEEK day 3 | fave gag reel moment | 11.15

[sharkface]

I love being a nerd with too much free time because when people start saying any main RVB character is under 35 I can pull out the painstakingly assembled color coded canon timeline. I only do it for this though. My hill

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: June 11…

When Finn finds and touches a porcelain lamb, it teleports him into a world where no one but himself and the Ice King can see him and ends up teaming with the Ice King to find a way to escape. “Beyond this Earthly Realm” premiered on this day, 12 Years Ago.

[dyanthas]

NOW I SEE WHY BONES ANIMATED SCENES WHICH ARE NOT EVEN IN THE MANGA...

This was maybe the first where anime was done BEFORE the manga came out..

But that doesn't matter AT ALL.BEACUSE THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT Kafka Asagiri wanted!!!!!!!!!

Don't you all see???? Before Every episode of the anime we already know what it will be shown. We are all just Insisting that let Bones NOT exclude this part, that part was not done properly, and so on. But we are Never savouring the anime in its own way.

This episode is EXACTLY What we needed!!!

To have our expectations, our fears, our emotions, all exposed at every turns in the anime; savouring the story in its true essence.

I was even afraid to watch what it will turn out to be. Stopped before Dazai could make an entrance (where Fyodor was thinking was about him). My heart was no longer agreeing with me. Was toooo tooooo afraid I might be disappointed.

But that doesn't matter, does it? Because we all saw the episode Without presuming anything.

That was what Kafka Asagiri wanted.

That is why he had sooo small chapters of the manga... So that Everything could lead to this... So that we can see the conclusion all together - WITHOUT any influence, penting up our expectations to the fullest!

And Sorry Bones for blaming you for the many diversions from the manga. You are truly.... Sugoi, Subarishii, all !!!

Saluté to Asagiri-san 🫡 You are beyond my imaginations- beyond everything!!

[kiwichaeng]

Can't fucking believe it's been an entire year of tarlos being married what the fuck

[atths--twice]

Faith and Hedy

Faith has been chosen as star of the week at preschool. You know Mulder is just as excited as she is with this news. ❤️ Number 54 in the family series.

March 16, 2023 9:30 p.m.

“Scully,” Mulder said, as he walked into the office and sat down on the overstuffed gray chair. “We need to talk about something.”

“What is it?” she asked, turning from the laptop to face him. “Is everything okay?”

“I just got an email from the school,” he said and she frowned looking over her shoulder at the laptop.

“I didn’t see an email,” she said. “But I haven’t checked it in a few minutes. Is everything alright?” She looked back at him, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Well…” He sighed and she drew in deep breath.

“Oh… it’s not something awful is it? Please don’t say it’s a virus. They already had the foot and mouth warning and I can’t take-”

“No. It’s not that.”

“Mulder…”

“Faith is going to be the star of the week,” he said with a grin. “They wanted us to know because it involves bringing home the class stuffed animal and taking pictures with it while she has it and then putting them into the class book, that will also come home with her, telling about what we did while it was with us.”

Scully stared at him and then turned back to her laptop with a shake of her head.

“What-”

“Mulder,” she said as she opened her email and clicked on the message from the school, reading it with a sigh. “You need to work on your delivery of good news as opposed to what could be a detrimental situation for all of us.”

“I thought you’d be happy. Faith has been wanting this for weeks now. She talks about it all the time.”

“I am happy,” she said, turning toward him again. “But you scared the shit out of me. I thought something awful was happening. Good news needs to be shared in a different way.” She raised her eyebrows and he smiled.

“Yeah. I suppose I probably could have had a better approach.”

“Probably?” she scoffed and he laughed, rising from the chair, coming closer to kiss her. But she pulled back, narrowing her eyes at him, then turned her head so he could kiss her cheek instead. “Oh, it’s like that is it?”

“It is for right now as I’m still imagining all the horrible things that could have been wrong.”

“Be more positive, Scully. See the light and not the darkness,” he teased and when she turned her head, a sarcastic comment most likely at the ready, he kissed her quickly on the lips and then jumped back before she could do anything.

“You dick,” she laughed, shaking her head. He winked and walked out of the room, laughing as a small couch pillow flew out behind him.

__________

“Daddy! Daddy!” Faith yelled as he walked into the classroom to pick her up the next afternoon. She ran to him, her smile huge. “Daddy! I get to be the star! I’m the star and I get to bring Hedy home with me.”

“Hedy?”

“Hedy the hedgehog! That’s her name, remember? I get to bring her home and have her for a whole week. That’s seven days, Daddy,” she said, as he picked her up and smiled, the shamrocks on her green headband bouncing.

“That’s right. So you’re the star of the week?”

“Yeah!” She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly as he closed his eyes and hugged her back.

“That’s fantastic news, my love. I know you’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

“Mr. Mulder?”

Mulder opened his eyes and smiled at Faith’s teacher Miss Cole. She smiled back as she held the hedgehog, a large book, and a manilla folder.

“As you heard, Faith has been selected as our star of the week.”

“Yes, I did. We’re very excited.”

“Very, very excited,” Faith said, smiling and nodding at Miss Cole.

“Good, I’m very glad,” she said with a small chuckle. “This is Hedy’s book where you may add pictures, stories, stickers, drawings- whatever you’d like to do. Within reason, of course.” She gave Mulder a look and he nodded with an understanding smile. “Please only use four pages maximum, so we will have space for all of our other friends.”

“We’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time. Those pages will be filled in no time,” Mulder assured her.

“Wonderful. I’m excited to see what you will do with Hedy,” Miss Cole said, handing the hedgehog to Faith, who grinned as she took it, squeezing it happily.

“Honey, can you go get your backpack and stuff from your cubby while I take this stuff from Miss Cole?” Mulder asked Faith and she nodded. He set her down and she ran off to get her things.

“I want you to know,” Miss Cole said. “Every time Hedy is returned to us, she is washed, dried, and then placed on the shelf where we can see her, but not touch her. I fully understand if you also want to wash her, but I just wanted you to be aware that we do wash her when she is returned.”

“Thank you,” Mulder said with a nod. “That’s good to know and I’m sure she will also be receiving a wash once we’re home.”

“Completely understandable,” Miss Cole said as she smiled, looking down at the stuff she still held. “Here is everything else that you’ll need and instructions on what Faith gets to do when she comes back to school next week. I know we sent you an email, but it’s good to have a physical copy as well.”

“Thank you,” Mulder said, taking everything from her as he saw Faith talking to Sadie and showing her the hedgehog in her arms. “She’s really been excited for her turn with Hedy.”

“She’s a sweet little girl,” Miss Cole said, looking at Faith with a smile. “Always so kind and curious. I’m glad she’s so excited.”

Mulder smiled proudly at the praise bestowed upon Faith, nodding his head in agreement.

“Daddy!” Faith said, running back to him as she called goodbye to Sadie. “Can we take Hedy to the park? I think she will like the swings.”

“Sure we can. You ready?”

“Yes! Bye, Miss Cole. We’re going to take Hedy to the park.”

“Have fun with her, Faith. I can’t wait to see the pictures you will add to the book.” Miss Cole gave her a side hug and booped Hedy on the nose. “See you soon, Hedy.”

“Bye, Miss Cole,” Faith said, waving Hedy’s small foot, smiling at Miss Cole.

“Bye, Faith. Goodbye, Mr. Mulder.” She nodded at them and walked back to the other children.

“Alright! You ready to go try out some swings at the park, Hedy?” Mulder asked, shifting the things in his hands to take Faith’s backpack from her.

“Yeah!” Faith shouted, dancing the hedgehog happily in the air.

______________

“These are so cute,” Scully said, as they sat on the couch later that evening. She was looking through Mulder’s camera roll after Faith had gone to bed with Hedy, who had been washed and dried when they arrived at home. “She had a good first day. Mulder… you climbed up that small enclosed ladder? That was very ambitious of you considering that you nearly got stuck last time.”

“That was only because I had the backpack on,” he said, smiling as she looked at him. “I didn’t have it this time and well… I made it.”

“Barely, I’m sure,” she chuckled, scrolling to the next picture.

“Yeah, but look how great that picture turned out. She’s so beautiful, Scully. And kind and curious, Miss Cole said earlier today.”

“Did she? Oh, I love this one. The way she’s looking at you. God, she is so beautiful.”

“Like you,” he said, watching Scully look at Faith, running her fingers over the screen.

“Mmm,” she hummed, selecting pictures and sending them to her phone.

“Scully, I added them all to our shared account. You don’t need to do that,” he said.

“You always say that and then I find pictures in your phone that I’ve never seen before. And then when I am scrolling through them, you tell me that next time you will be sure to remember, but you don’t.”

“Whatever,” he said with a smile, knowing full well that she was right.

“I’d rather cover my bases than miss out.” She handed his phone back to him as she picked up her own and looked at the pictures that had arrived. “There. Now I have them.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, echoing her earlier response, smiling as he changed his phone's wallpaper to a picture of Faith, Hedy’s head poking out from the top of her jacket, as he pushed her on a swing.

“What other plans were you thinking of doing while we have Hedy with us?”

“Well… I’m glad you asked,” Mulder said, opening his notes app on his phone and showing her what he had jotted down.

“Oh… you’ve already made a list. It’s serious,” she said, scooting down a little and snuggling into him as he began to read her his list of ideas.

______________

Saturday, they went to the library for story hour, as well as for the planned arts and crafts activity. When everyone was seated in the reading room, Miss Lauren, the librarian, welcomed them and asked how they all were doing, Faith raised her hand.

“Yes?” Miss Lauren asked with a smile.

Faith stood up from her spot on the floor and walked up beside her. She turned to the other children and held Hedy out in front of her.

“Mulder,” Scully whispered as she grabbed his arm, her eyes huge as she looked at him.

“This is Hedy. I got her from my school. She’s a hedgehog and she’s excited to hear the stories.”

“Oh my God,” Mulder breathed, taking out his phone and quickly snapping some pictures.

“Well, that’s fantastic,” Miss Lauren said. “I’m so glad Hedy is here with us today. I’m sure she will really enjoy the stories that have been selected.”

“She will. She likes to hear all kinds of stories.”

“Good,” Miss Lauren said with a smile. “Thank you for sharing her with us, Miss…?”

“Faith.”

“Faith. That’s such a beautiful name,” Miss Lauren said, touching Faith’s back. “Thank you for sharing Hedy with us. Now if you take your seat, we can start reading the stories.”

“Okay,” Faith said, grinning at her and then sitting back down, Hedy held in her lap.

Miss Lauren smiled and looked over at them, shaking her head when Scully mouthed I’m sorry to her. Reaching for the first book, Miss Lauren began to read and Mulder showed Scully the pictures he had taken.

“God, but she’s adorable,” she whispered and he laughed silently, putting his phone away and watching Faith as she listened to the story.

_______________

Sunday afternoon, they went to Skinner and Rachel’s to celebrate Rachel’s birthday, which was coming up on Wednesday. Faith excitedly showed Hedy to everyone, telling them about being star of the week and getting to take care of Hedy.

“Have you been having fun with her?” Rachel asked as she held Hedy and exclaimed over how special it was for Faith to have her.

“Yes. We went to the library yesterday and she had pancakes with me this morning. She liked the syrup best. She said that it’s sticky like honey. Hedgehogs like honey, Raycho.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that, thank you for telling me, Faith,” Rachel said, handing Hedy back and winking at Mulder and Scully.

The twins each got to hold Hedy, Faith telling them about her, showing them her eyes and little feet. When Jacob put one of the feet in his mouth, Faith gasped and took it from him gently.

“No, Jacob. She doesn’t like that. Don’t put her in your mouth,” Faith said, wiping off Hedy’s foot.

“Maybe we put her up where the twins can’t get to her?” Scully suggested, squatting down to be at Faith’s level, and Faith frowned as she contemplated it.

“No. I will hold her and they can touch her, but not put her in their mouths. I want to share her, but not all the time.”

Scully stared at Mulder as she stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. He laughed quietly as he turned his attention to Faith, who was indeed allowing the twins to touch Hedy, but not hold her.

“The things she says. The way she thinks… it amazes me,” Scully said softly.

“She’s truly becoming her own person,” he agreed, snapping pictures and shaking his head.

____________

Monday afternoon they walked over to Violet and Denis’s house to show Hedy the life-sized wooden giraffe, Jafadine, that stood in their yard.

Faith carried Hedy on her shoulders, singing a song she had learned at school, stopping every once in a while to show Hedy flowers or rocks that she found interesting, continuing with her song when she began walking again.

Scully slipped her hand into Mulder’s and squeezed gently, Bella’s leash held in her other hand.

“Remember when walks used to take so long? Her short steps and love for the same things that still give her pause, halting us as we walked?” Scully asked, letting out a deep sigh.

“I do,” he agreed, squeezing her hand and glancing at her with a small smile. “Those days and the days of necessary seclusion seem so far away and yet also like it was yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“But you know,” he said, letting go of her hand and putting his arm around her shoulders. “It’s like that video from ticky tock that Rachel showed you yesterday-”

“Do you mean TikTok?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Whatever it’s called,” he replied, pulling her closer. “That video she showed you, the one that made both of you cry, about how the baby you loved is replaced with a toddler you love just as much and then that toddler is replaced with a child and so on until all versions of the child leave all at once.” He stopped walking as the realization of the words hit him differently than they had when he had overheard them yesterday. “Oh… now I know why you were crying.”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder. That was super great of you,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Ohhhhhh, Hedy, I love you. You’re the beeeeeest hedgehog in the whole entire universe,” Faith sang, spinning around with Hedy still on her shoulders.

They watched her dance around the dirt road in purple shoes, rainbow leggings under the sparkly green tutu she had worn on Saint Patrick’s Day, a pink fuzzy hoodie, her hair in two long ponytails, and they each sighed simultaneously.

“That day is far off, Mulder. So very far off. Let’s not taint today with those thoughts.”

“You said taint,” he whispered and she started to laugh, which broke through the sadness and brought them back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him, Bella whining beside them.

“Mommy. Daddy. Come on, Hedy wants to see Jafadine. She’s never seen a giraffe before,” Faith called to them.

“We’re coming, honey,” Mulder said, kissing Scully’s forehead as they stepped apart. “Don’t want to keep Miss Hedy waiting too much longer.”

Taking Scully’s hand again, they continued their walk, Faith holding Hedy high up when Jafadine came into view.

Pictures were taken with Jafadine and all the other wooden animals hidden throughout the yard, as well as with Violet and Denis themselves. They grinned happily as Hedy rested on Faith’s head while she stood between them, making a silly face.

They stayed for dinner, Faith needing to be carried home, tired from a long day of fun, Hedy safe and secure in the pocket of her hoodie.

______________

Tuesday they prepared the star of the week poster, writing down the answers that Faith gave them to the questions asked on the paper.

My name is: Faith Katherine Mulder I am: four years old My birthday is: on Halloween… ooooooo I have: blue eyes and dark brown hair My favorite color: pink and purple My favorite food: spaghetti and watermelon My favorite toy: the alien with the pink belly, the blue dragon, and the pretend kitchen My pets are: a cat named Grey, a dog named Bella, and lots of fish- but they don’t all have names. My family is: Mommy, Daddy, Unco, Raycho, Jacob and Elizabeth. I am happy: when I am with my family and my animals

“I think these answers give a wonderful description as to who you are, Faithy,” Mulder said, adding a family picture, all of them standing together in the snow at the Christmas tree farm, in the designated spot.

“What’s a describtion?” she asked, as she looked at the other pictures he had added: Faith dressed up in her alien costume on her second birthday, Bella and Grey sleeping together, Faith eating spaghetti, her face very messy, Faith helping the twins open their gifts on their first birthday, and Faith on her own, sitting on the porch swing staring out into the distance.

“Description,” he said, putting emphasis on the p and smiling at her. “It means telling someone about something. For instance, how would you describe Bella to me?”

Faith looked at Bella who was currently lying on the floor with Grey next to her, kneading softly into her side.

“Bella is a dog. She’s black and has… one, two, three, four legs and a long tail. She gives me kisses when she’s happy,” she said, looking at Mulder and smiling.

“That’s a great description,” he said with an answering smile.

“You have green eyes and brown hair, Daddy,” she said, leaning closer to him, searching his face as she touched his arm gently. “You’re tall and strong because you can carry me and Mommy. You’re nice and you love me.”

“Yes, Faithy,” he whispered, pulling her to him and closing his eyes as he held her close. “Yes, I do love you. Very much.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

When she pulled back, he glanced over at Scully who had her phone pointed at them. She smiled, her eyes shining, and nodded as his phone beeped beside him.

As Faith got down and walked over to Bella and Grey, he opened the message. Letting out a deep sigh, he looked at the pictures of him and Faith staring at each other intently and then hugging.

“Thank you,” he whispered, glancing up at Scully. She nodded as she slipped her phone into her pocket and he looked down at the pictures again, adding them to his camera roll.

____________

Wednesday, after picking Faith up from school, he took her to get something to eat.

“How was your day, my love?” he asked, taking a french fry from the basket, dipping it in ketchup, and taking a bite.

“It was good,” Faith said, adjusting Hedy on the table, making sure the straw to her small glass reached her mouth.

“That’s good,” Mulder said, smiling as he watched her. “The kids liked learning about you?”

“Yup. I got to be the line leader and to pick the after snack activity.”

“Wow, sounds like you had a great day. What activity did you pick?”

“Painting. I painted a sun and it’s wearing sunglasses,” she said with a giggle, looking at him and then taking a french fry for herself.

“Well, that makes sense since the sun is hot and very bright.”

“Yeah,” Faith said, looking at Hedy. “How many more days do I get to have her?”

“Two. You have to bring her back next time you go to school on Friday.”

“That’s not so many days,” she said with a sigh.

“No,” he said, trying not to smile. “But by the time you take her back, you will have had her for seven days, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“And we did a lot with her. We’ll have to start writing it all down and putting the pictures in the book tonight.”

“Will you take a picture of us now?” she asked, picking Hedy up and holding her as she pretended to feed her a french fry.

“Of course,” he answered, taking out his phone and snapping some pictures. She smiled when she saw them, showing them to Hedy as well.

When they left, Faith made sure to ask if Hedy could also have one of the balloons the restaurant offered, asking Mulder to tie it to her small paw. He obliged and on the outside bench, letting Faith borrow his sunglasses, he took pictures of them with their matching balloons, Faith laughing as she held the sunglasses to her face.

______________

“It’s our last night with Hedy. What would you like to do with her?” Scully asked, when they had come back from the afternoon spent with Rachel and the twins at an indoor play space.

Jacob and Elizabeth had stayed mostly in the area for smaller children, but Faith ran around all over, playing with everything that drew her eye. All the while, Hedy had gone with her in the little backpack Faith wore, her little head poking out through the zipper.

“I don’t know,” Faith said with a sigh. “I don’t want her to go. I like having her with me.”

“I know, honey,” Scully said, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. “But it’s time for someone else to have fun with her, just like it was time for you to have fun with her.”

“I know,” Faith said, burrowing into Scully’s arms, who looked up at Mulder with a smile.

“Oh… I got it,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I just thought of something that I don’t think Hedy has done with us yet, maybe even ever.”

“What?” Faith asked, her voice muffled.

“She hasn’t watched the stars come out while we lay on a blanket in the yard. Remember when we did that last summer?” he asked.

“It was warmer then,” Scully said, giving him a pointed look as she rubbed Faith’s back.

“It will be a little cold,” he agreed with a shrug. “But, we’ll dress warmly and bring some extra blankets with us to wait for the stars. We might even see a shooting star.”

“Do you think we will?” Faith said, sitting up to look at him, sniffling quietly.

“You never know with stars,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he smiled at her. “What do you say? You in?”

“Yeah,” she answered, grinning and nodding her head.

“Then let’s get busy gathering all the things we will need.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was putting down a large tarp that had been in the shed, heavy rocks holding it in place. Three thick yoga mats were rolled out, large sleeping bags were zipped together, and pillows and extra blankets were added to their makeshift bed.

Popcorn and bottles of water were brought out and once everyone was ready, the lights inside and out were turned off and they lay together in the sleeping bags, blankets on top of them, waiting to watch the stars come out.

Faith, lying between them, leaned her head against Mulder’s arm and set Hedy on his chest, lying on her back so she could look up at the sky. He smiled at Scully over Faith’s head and she smiled back.

“You know what to do if you see a shooting star, right Hedy?” Mulder asked and Faith shook Hedy’s body in a no motion. “Well, if you see one flying past, you close your eyes and you quickly make a wish.”

“Can it be for anything you want?” Faith asked and Mulder nodded.

“It sure can.”

“If I see one, I’ll wish Hedy could always stay with us,” she said softly and Scully hummed. “I know I have to take her back tomorrow, but I can still wish.”

“Sure you can, baby,” Scully said, turning to look at her, smiling at Mulder.

“Okay.”

They lay there for a while, Bella running around and coming over for occasional kisses and pets, watching the sky darken and the stars twinkling. Scully pointed out the constellations to Faith, telling her about the Greek mythology attached to them.

“I like the Pegasus one,” Faith said with a yawn, snuggling close to Scully. “But Hedy likes Cassiopeia.”

She yawned again, holding Hedy tightly in her arms, and Mulder smiled at her. Scully cuddled her, humming softly, as Faith yawned again.

He looked back up at the sky, at the constellations Scully had pointed out. He found Hercules, his own favorite, and kept staring when suddenly a star shot across the sky.

“Faithy! Did you-” he asked, turning his head to look at her, but he saw that she had fallen asleep and by the looks of it, Scully was not far off. “No, you didn’t see.”

He smiled and made a wish for all of them, for continued good health and happiness.

Taking out his phone, he moved carefully, getting one last picture of the time they spent with Hedy.

_____________

He carried the big book as they walked to the classroom, Faith’s pages full of pictures and stories of what they had done with Hedy. Faith had added stickers and written her name and Hedy’s under one of the pictures, smiling at it proudly.

“You ready?” he asked, taking Faith’s hand and giving it a squeeze. She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, I know, honey. Hey, hang on a second.” He stopped walking and squatted down in front of her. “Mommy and I were talking last night about how much you’re going to miss Hedy.”

“I will miss her,” Faith said, looking at Hedy with sad eyes.

“I know. So Mommy and I came up with an idea, but I’ll leave the decision to you.”

“What is it?”

“Well, we were thinking that maybe we could find a hedgehog stuffie that looks like Hedy. It might not be the exact same, but it would be a hedgehog. Would you like to have one?”

“It won’t be just like her?”

“I don’t know, honey. We could look and see what we could find.”

“Like the fairy doll?” she asked. “The one I lost and we couldn’t find her again?”

“But we found one like it? Yeah. What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking at Hedy. “I like this one, but my turn is over now.”

“It is,” he said, watching her face as she stared at Hedy.

“I don’t know, Daddy.” She raised her blue eyes to him and he smiled, kissing her forehead.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. How about you think about it while you’re at school today and let me know when I pick you up. Does that sound like a good plan?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling as she squeezed Hedy.

“Great,” he said, hugging her tightly for a second. Letting her go, he stood up and reached for her hand again.

They walked into the classroom and she hurried to put her stuff in her cubby as he walked over to Miss Cole to hand her the book.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it and smiling in Faith’s direction. “We’ll all look at it together during circle time and discuss the things Faith did with Hedy.”

“She really had fun with her. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled as the children began to surround her and Mulder took that at his cue to leave.

Finding Faith in the play area with Hedy, he tapped her shoulder and then squatted down when she turned to look at him.

“I’m gonna get going now, love. You have fun. Bye, Hedy. It was nice having you with us this past week.” He shook Hedy’s small foot and gave Faith a kiss. “Bye, hon.”

“Bye, Daddy. I’ll think about my decision to tell you later,” she said, her tone very serious. He fought back a smile as he nodded.

“Okay. Take your time, Faithy. Bye, love.”

“Bye bye,” she said, turning back to the play area and pouring Hedy a cup of tea.

He walked out of the classroom and back to the car, his thoughts on what Faith’s decision would be.

Sitting in the car, he looked through the Hedy photo album and smiled. It had been fun to have her and see how Faith played with and shared her with others.

Nodding, he opened an app and began to search for a stuffed hedgehog that was similar to Hedy.

In case Faith decided she wanted one, he would be ready with options for her to pick from, the thought of the happiness in her blue eyes all the motivation he needed.

[medicaldoctordana]

I do love Glen Morgan and James Wong's team writing. Their last episode was Never again before their return in season 10...

Not me typing this post and wanting to fact check myself and listing all of their episodes that the two of them wrote and finding they are actually some of the most fucked up and absolute wild x-files episodes that exist. Yes a couple are hits but holy heck these two guys wrote all THOSE episodes!!!!!

Never Again

TFWID

Home

Die Hand Die Verletzt

One Breath

Little Green Men

Tooms

E.B.E.

Beyond the Sea

Ice

Shadows

Squeeze

Blood

3

Musings of CSM

Home Again

This

Founder's Mutation

Ghouli

(Nothing Lasts Forever)

[spicyicymeloncat]

Letting u guys all know that in my Ninjago s12 prime empire rewrite I’m just gonna make lava canon

[liopleurodean]

Season 11, Episode 15: Beyond The Mat

This is so fake

People enjoy this?

This makes no sense to me

Finally, something I understand

Nice

That sounds like John

Not like they can do much about it

Sam.

Touch grass

Yeah, this tracks

Yikes

Sure

That's disgusting

Egh. That's nasty

Dean's fangirling so hard

I think he deserves it

I don't think I can watch

Yikes

That's hilarious and so on-brand

Wow

He didn't exactly have a bed

Yeah, I can imagine

That's definitely not what happened

Yeah, sure

I like the outfit

Wow.

It's not about money anymore

Dean, you do that everyday

Yeah, they would know

Fair

Well that sucks

Well, at least Dean is having fun

Dean. You're not a child

Yikes

Not the steel chair 😭

Definitely super staged

Wait, I know this song!

Modern Day Cowboy by Tesla. It's in my Dean playlist apparently, which is hilarious

He is too drunk to be looking after a kid

Oh, poor kid, he doesn't deserve to lose his dad like that

That's one way to put it

Have fun

Dean.

Smooth

Okay, Kool-Aid Man

Nice.

Uh huh

What does that mean?

Yeah, okay

Wow. That was a good one

She's nice for a demon

Ah. Okay

I would not want to be standing on a felt table in stilettos

Back on track

Yeah, I can't imagine those places are very safe

I wonder what monster that was?

Yikes

Yeah...

The Winchesters would know

Witches, maybe?

Oh. Could be anything

Harley dude

This can't end well

He needs a chill pill

Good idea

Dean.

Nice

He's barely alive

Not even remotely

...did he just fart?

Good for her

Awesome

Definitely Harley

Give him a minute, he's back in Hell

Well.

Crowley's back

They took him

Gunnar?

He passed the holy water check

Spooky

It was the cheapest shot

Gunnar is working for someone

The dealer

Ah. Crossroads demon. That explains a lot

Yeah

It's a pretty big favor, actually

You've already attracted too much attention

Good for him

And he doesn't want to be there

I respect that

Yikes

Oh, I don't want to think about that

Interesting

ARE THOSE THE SUPERNATURAL BOOKS?

Whoa.

No

Uh oh

Why did they do that.

Well crap

Ouch

Sure

I'm sure he did

Yeah, he really should have guessed

He's not even wrong

Taller?

What does that mean???

Never meet your heroes

Not Good

Blease. Stop calling him puppy 😭

Poof

Got the finesse

Nice

Time to go

Oh boy

I don't believe that

That's his specialty

Yikes

Yeah. He does.

One-time use, man

Nice

Rip Crowley

Because that makes sense

Why?

There it is

Hellhounds

Dean knows

Poor guy

They don't want to be in the way

Nope

A million times

Yeah.

Darn right

[alargehunkofdebris]

Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience

The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.

Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.

I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.

Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.

But wait! There’s more!

You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.

This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”

This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)

Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.

Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?

Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.

And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?

Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.

And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.

Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?

For…all of it.

All of the time that ever existed.

They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.

And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.

That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.

I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.

Do you know how uncommon that is?

Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.

That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.

And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.

And then you have the end of S2.

And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.

And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.

Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.

It just works.

[chimaerakitten]

You know, I sometimes think about how timing really effects our engagement with a story. Not in the “you love that story because it came into your life at the right moment” sense, but in the sense that where and how much you waited for it changes your reaction.

People on tumblr talk about the community that comes from weekly episodes of a show, etc but I’m talking more about like, the way watching a show after it’s over will change your reactions to it even entirely independent of spoilers. There’s lots of shows and book series I’ve liked all the way through or even loved, which have die hard contingents of fans who were disappointed the ending or bailed after hating a middle installment.

And often I can look at those things and go “yeah, I probably wouldn’t like this as much if I’d been forced to sit on that middle season for a year, or wait eight years for that final book” but even though I can see that, it’s overshadowed by the way I personally got to breeze right past the quality dip season and I picked up book 11 two days after book 10 so I didn’t have any built up expectations, and as a consequence I liked things that other people didn’t.

And I don’t think either experience—the old fan who waited and had their hopes dashed and the new fan who never built up hopes—is really more real than the other, having been in both camps in various fandoms, but I think it’s interesting that the entirely beyond the fourth wall factor of waiting time can have such an impact on the most die hard of fanbases when the canon is exactly the same

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: June 11…

When Finn finds and touches a porcelain lamb, it teleports him into a world where no one but himself and the Ice King can see him and ends up teaming with the Ice King to find a way to escape. “Beyond this Earthly Realm” premiered on this day, 11 Years Ago.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

We need to talk about this

because Yuuri's reaction here is a result of his anxiety disorder and his tendency to self-deprecation and having depressive thoughts. That he ends up here is being carefully foreshadowed throughout the series:

First, Viktor said a couple of things that made Yuuri believe that Viktor only wants to coach him until the GPF:

This

and this

is enough to convince and anxious person like Yuuri that Viktor has no intention to coach him beyond the GPF. Note that Viktor never explicitly states that he will coach Yuuri only for the first half of the season - it's the natural conclusion an anxious brain will draw. And that's neither Viktor's nor Yuuri's fault.

And then this, while Yuuri is within hearing distance:

I'm getting a queasy feeling in my stomach just from watching this scene because I relate to Yuuri so much. If I had eavesdropped on this interview, I would have freaked out internally. Like what does that even mean? Is he talking about his career or is this a carefully crafted answer to convince the press to leave him and Yuuri alone for the next couple of weeks? This secret is probably between Viktor and the YOI creators alone (I have theories, but I'm not going to discuss them here because this post is about Yuuri).

Second, although he becomes more confident throughout the show, the self-deprecating part of Yuuri has a low opinion about his own skating. From his perspective, his contribution to the sport seems less valuable than Viktor's, even when he starts to understand that he's far more than a dime-a-dozen skater. The realisation that he is as least as talented as Viktor, only drives home the moment he breaks Viktor's world record.

Because Yuuri has such a low opinion of himself, he doesn't understand how much Viktor enjoys watching him skate, which is another aspect factoring into his decision.

Third, Yuuri genuinely believes that Viktor wants to return to the ice and would rejoice when Yuuri retires. Having seen Viktor watch the other skaters at the GPF cements the decision he made at the Rostelecom Cup. The fact that basically everyone has told him throughout the last 11 episodes that he's keeping Viktor from skating gives more weight to the idea.

Yes, you got that right. Yuuri deided to retire, before he proposed to Viktor and before he bought two matching rings and put one of them on Viktor's finger. However, now Yuuri knows that Viktor would coach him for as long as Yuuri wants to keep skating, which forces him to release Viktor from his duties at the point he believes Viktor wanted to stop coaching him initially.

"Let's end this" is not about breaking up. Yuuri is releasing Viktor as his coach. He is sacrificing his career so that Viktor can keep pursuing his own career which Viktor once sacrificed for him.

Of course he's surprised that Viktor bursts out in tears.

Yuuri has the right to retire whenever he wants. He doesn't need to consult Viktor. If he thinks (for whichever stupid reason) it's time, he can make this decision on his own.

Is it selfish?

Lol no. Only Viktor thinks it is because he's conflating the coach and the partner and takes it personally. He's hurt and feels rejected because he doesn't understand that Yuuri did it for him and that causes a drama Yuuri was not prepared for.

Is it stupid?

Absolutely. But poor communication skills, Yuuri is too caught up in his mental issues to even think of having a discussion that would lead them to a solution with which both would be happy (both training in St. Petersburg *wink* *wink*). It's not malice, insensitivity, or shitty behaviour that drives Yuuri to this point. It's all about his mental issues. And love.

[shibaraki]

ON THIN ICE ┊ TODOROKI TOUYA

synopsis: your partner’s injury left the future of your skating career uncertain. but where one door closes, another is being held open—and has been, for many years.

tags: GN reader, no quirk au (figure skating), reader is an ice dancer, retired ice skater (+ teacher) touya, angst + fluff, sports related injuries, childhood friend shouto, best friends older brother touya, reference to canon, romance, mutual pining, first kisses, getting together, ice skating jargon (to the best of my ability lol)

wc: 8.3K

A pair of young, doe-eyed volunteers parted the curtains. Beyond it the battered ice and a stadium filled to capacity, their deafening cheers flooding through to the corridor. Harsh flashes of light assault your vision where the photographers are standing around the entryway; if not for the hand in yours, you’re not sure you would’ve been able to move.

The applause crashes over you as the other couple exit the ice. Bouquets, ribbons and gifts are thrown onto the ice, swiftly collected by the sweepers as the gates are opened for you to begin warming up.

“…and Todoroki Shouto!”

Your names are announced side by side, syllables ricocheting through the cavernous arena. Aizawa is there to take your jacket and hang it over the crook of his arm. You haven’t trembled under his sharp scrutiny in years but it is a close thing.

“Go out there and do what you do best,” he nods.

The cold rink air balloons in your lungs. It feels as though there is a black hole in your chest pulling at every quark within your body. You glide after Shouto, tension released from your shoulders in increments as you do a warm up lap of the rink, pushing into every stride to keep up with Shouto’s pace. He’s pale, you notice. A sickly sheen of sweat illuminated for you to see under the stadium lights and a pinch to the smile that softens as your fingers flex.

The beginning notes to music for your free dance start to play. In a blink it is nothing more than a figment of your imagination—there’s no time to second guess. Shouto takes you into his embrace and the routine you’ve worked to perfect throughout the season comes naturally. Rippling around one another like water meeting again and again, endlessly going out and coming in. Every leg movement, every turn and lift, every flick of the wrist snapped in time with the beat as you reacted to each other, movements tightly entwined, merging with a synchronicity that you would have only dreamed of in your adolescence.

The song crescendoed. The world fell silent.

And then it erupted.

Applause echoed around the arena. Thunderous, enough to overshadow the violent beat of your heart. You’re dazed, caught in a snare. Shouto poised above you, his pupils blown wide, a wild, pained look in his eyes. As presence of mind returns you become acutely aware of the arm shaking around your waist, the hand buried in his hair. The proximity—or lack of it. Short, frantic puffs of air ghost across your cheek.

You start to panic. Your hand slides down the curve of Shouto’s throat and he blinks, startled. And then his face crumpled.

He grew heavy in your arms.

He collapsed.

ICE DANCING PRODIGY TODOROKI SHOUTO TO RETIRE: UNDERGOES SECOND HIP SURGERY Skatebuzz - 11 December 20XX - 16:34

Three time national champion and prospective Olympian Todoroki Shouto will not only be missing the entirety of the 20XX-XX season but every one following. Revealed in a statement uploaded to his social media, Todoroki Shouto has announced his intention to retire. The ice dancer is reportedly recovering and ‘in good spirits’ regarding his decision. While the skating community has come together to wish him well, they have also begun to speculate about the future of his partner…

A slow, electronic instrumentation accompanies you onto the bus. Soft vocals intertwined with a soothing ambience. Purposeful in your choice of music—hoping it’ll calm your restless mind before you arrive. Your body jostles as you stare down at your phone. You click out of the article and open the text app. Eyes skim over the messages Touya had sent you an hour ago.

Touya : 16:45 ➢ Rink?

He must’ve heard the news.

You : 16:53 ➢ omw

Touya : 16:55 ➢ K. Hurry up

Things had gone quiet after Shouto’s second surgery last week and you haven’t been skating since. Over the years you had shared multiple strained numerous ligaments, a few blade nicks, bruised a coccyx and broken a finger or two, but a long untreated hip labral tear was not so quick to heal. You’d respected his request to sideline any talk of skating for a while. Having been skate partners for nearly a decade you understood the grief he must be feeling, because in part you are feeling it too.

Shouto’s absence on the ice was akin to a phantom limb. His father, Todoroki Enji, paired you together in early childhood, and over time a pleasant friendship quietly blossomed as you endured rigorous training and competitions together. Even after he broke away from Enji’s iron grip and sought new guidance under Aizawa’s care you followed right behind him. You had plans together. Dreams to chase.

To put to rest. To create anew.

The bus rolls to an abrupt stop. You grip the nearby handle and gather yourself quickly, shucking your bag higher as you walk down the narrow aisle toward the front. You dip and murmur in thanks at the driver before stepping off into the tepid air.

Seeing the rink is always a bit like coming home. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t desperately missed it. People smile in your direction, employees waving you in, recognising your face. The din is muffled by the music pouring into your ears; simple, contagious chords paired with soulful vocals. You hum along and kick off your shoes, taking no notice of the others in the locker room, incognisant to their whispers.

You hang your skates over your wrist and pad through toward the rink. Cold air fills your lungs. The old pop song playing through the speakers disrupts the harmony of your own—you pull out the earbuds with a sigh and lower onto a nearby bench.

A few feet away you hear a young girl exhale an awed sound. You glance up and follow her line of sight. There are a few junior level skaters doing their final lap, most practicing on their own, but that isn’t what she’s staring after. Gliding around the far end of the rink is their trainer, Todoroki Touya, and your best friend’s eldest brother.

Growing up alongside Shouto ultimately led to spending time with his family. You were integrated little by little, until it was entirely normal for you to have a set of spare keys to his house. Touya had been a taciturn presence amongst the siblings. You were drawn to him from the beginning. Rough around the edges and quick witted. Swan-like limbs, lithe muscle and a narrow waist, you recognised the subtle gentility in his movements that can only be attributed to skaters.

Though you knew he still practiced everyday, the topic of Touya’s dead skating career was off limits. You learned that very quickly. And you understand why now more than ever.

Watching him warm up in solitude, you couldn’t help but privately think the world had laid him to rest before his time. He shed his form and became one with the ice. Your ears prick at the sound of the blades as he slides, his loose white t-shirt billowing with the quick turn, flashing slivers of pale skin and scar tissue. The muscles in his thighs strained in the confines of his leggings as he took off to jump, wing span broad and beautiful, body suspended in the air.

There’s a lump forming in your throat. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t competition standard, or that his step sequences were unrefined. Touya always burned on the ice—he threw away his shame and took every leap without fear, because he was determined to do it. Because he knew he deserved better.

Poised like a prima ballerina, Touya grabs the edge of his blade and bends his leg high, changing the trajectory of his spin. For a few short minutes he is a soft blur, and then he deftly alters his footing, pushing off into another lap of the rink.

His speed increases. Curiosity urges you forward towards the rink wall. Your hands grip the railing, sucking in a sudden breath as you recognise what it is he’s trying to do.

A triple axel.

Touya lands hard and barely maintains his balance, forcing a stunned gasp from your lungs, joined by a chorus of others. It was clumsy and amateur, yet perfectly imperfect. The bright fluorescent lights reflect on the ice, exaggerating the mottled pink cutting across his cheeks, and the expression on his face can only be described as serene. Your heart hammers with excitement as if you were right beside him.

A modicum of guilt lingers despite everything. It was always too easy to envision yourself there. Shouto was a wonderful skater, and a partner hard to come by. He managed to make the act of sweeping another person with one arm for three rotations over an icy surface look effortless and skated like he was born for it.

But figure skating is brutal, a dangerous and painful sport cleverly masked by elegance and beauty—just like Touya. As he sinks to his knees with his head tipped back, releasing a loud, exhilarated laugh, you can’t help but think:

Touya skates like he’s in love with it.

Brushing back the loose white hair stuck to his forehead, Touya surveys the rink. You flinch away from his gleaming eyes when they land on you. The joy in his face turns grim as he pushes up and begins to glide over.

You, guided by your foolish nerves, scramble back to the bench and start on your skates. A presence steps off from the ice, another warm body at your side. Your fingers tremble as they work at the knot in your laces, undoing, pulling apart the tongues, shoving in your pointed foot. The silence grows slightly oppressive as Touya lowers himself to sit He leans forward, propping his chin on his bony knee, blades scraping the floor.

“All those gold medals at home and you still can’t lace your skates properly?”

It’s as much a lie as it is an olive branch. You bite your tongue, casting him an indolent glance. Touya rolled his eyes and patted his knee. You kick your foot up into his lap and set it down gently. He used to help you lace up, back when you were still floundering on the ice and learning how to fall. Meticulously, he crosses and pulls each loop taut. Touya remembers exactly how tight you liked your skates to be without a word of direction.

“They’ve announced Shouto’s retirement,” you say delicately. “And mine by proxy, I guess. I had to hear about it from Skatebuzz of all things”.

Touya grunts. After two long minutes he makes another of his quiet pay-attention-to-me noises. Wordlessly you meet his gaze. The cool overhead lights illuminate how his expression is flat in admonishment, “You shouldn’t look at that shit. It’ll make you miserable”.

A wave of irritation comes over you. “I still want to know. I knew he was considering it but—I should’ve known first. I have a right to, and it’s,” your voice cracks under the sudden sad weight sitting on your chest. “It’s not all bad stuff. There were nice comments”.

“They never stick. You forget them as soon as you see something negative”.

“That’s not—”

"I would know," Touya interrupts harshly. His eyes shutter as he collects himself with a deep inhale. He shakes his head and your leg jerks, skate knocked off his lap now that it is secure. “Give me the other one”.

You do, but not without first making a face at him, that which he returns tenfold. “Ugly,” he says. The warmth in his tone is all that keeps your hackles from raising. That’s how Touya is. Beautiful and bright and bruised, like a wounded animal that yelped at the lightest touch.

“Bastard,” you reply. “You looked cool out there, by the way. I didn’t know you could do a triple axel”.

“Can’t. I always fuck up the take-off,” he shrugs. The compliment is dismissed but there’s finally colour in his cheeks again. You’ve long since learned the intricacy of interacting with him. Treat him too delicately and he’ll bite. Treat him too flippantly and he’ll bite. There’s a careful balance between caution and carelessness.

Shouto never truly mastered it. As brothers they communicated like two closed fists. This is perhaps the only thing you can do that he cannot.

You smile at the thought, only for it to taper as you study Touya’s hands. Lithe fingers, a broad palm, uneven skin. A memory pushes its way to the forefront of your mind. For a fraction of a second you’re small again, and your hand feels tiny in his. You can barely keep yourself upright in the ill-fitted skates on your feet. You catch your toe pick and careen towards the ice with a yelp, only to be pulled back upright by Touya.

“I’ve got you,” he assured with a big, proud grin as you regained your bearings.

The force behind his present movements grows rough under your scrutiny. You wince. He loosens the laces and starts again. Off the ice there’s nothing particularly graceful about Touya. None of the typical pride and swagger. Like this he’s just—Touya. Bony and awkward, white hair tousled in every direction. Your best friend's older brother. The boy that kept you from falling on the ice when you were five.

Your dynamic has always been oddly harmonious, if not a bit melodramatic, your crush withstanding. It had been a plentiful source of lighthearted teasing from your partner and rinkmates alike. Whether his attentiveness toward you was for the purpose of goading Shouto in some way you weren’t sure, but grateful all the same.

It was Touya who stiffly suggested you assist him with the novice ice show. At the very least as something temporary to do, keeping your mind off the prospect of bowing out of competitive ice dance for good. The reception from your rinkmates had been lukewarm compared to the disastrous scenario you’d picture in your head. It came with varying degrees of surprise and confusion but overall they respected it. Shouto’s insistence that he attend your rehearsal blocks whenever possible tempered a majority of the nastier rumours, for which you were thankful, though not everyone had a working filter.

You’ve been working on refining individual elements for the kids. It’s far more difficult than you realised. After years competing at such a high level you’ve needed to reacquaint yourself with the basics, and somehow assemble them into a coherent, beautiful dance that would make your class feel proud.

Appreciative as you are to have him there, Shouto was no real help either. He was a natural at skating; albeit reluctant to accept that fact. Whenever one of the children asked him to explain the specifics of something he would end up staring in a loss for words. He rarely gave much active thought to the mechanics of how he skated since he instinctively knew how to do it.

Touya was the opposite. He skated with purpose and understood every movement his body made. What he lacked in clean edges he made up for in musicality. Purported by his emotions, in a way, and coaxing you along with him. He’s a good teacher. Passionate in a way that sparked passion in the student’s while being firm enough to keep them in line.

He could demonstrate each solo element with ease and explain it step by step. You envied the fire in his belly—undistinguishable and bright. Spending more time together has only succeeded in fuelling your feelings towards him.

“Skate with me?”

Touya’s sharp eyes skim urgently across your face in search of something. They soften. He huffs and then jerks his head toward the rink. “Why else would I tell you to meet here?”

Your cheeks ache, and you realise you’re smiling.

The junior level skaters have petered out, leaving the space relatively empty. You remove your guards and follow him onto the ice, doing a warm up lap of the rink. His legs—and by extension, his stride—are no longer than Shouto’s, and you don’t need to fight to keep up.

"Want to start with the Dutch waltz?"

While Touya earned his fair share of accolades—placing first in the Junior’s Division World Championship and receiving a Grand Prix invitation before the accident—he was never an ice dancer, and you loved monopolising that fact.

As expected Touya shot you an affronted glare. “I’m not doing the Dutch waltz. Toddlers can do the Dutch waltz,” he exaggerated.

“Should be easy for you then,” you replied blithely.

Touya let out a long sigh and shook his arms out before extending them to you. Hip to hip, you take his hand, dazed by the unfolding reality of the situation and the warmth of his skin. You let your blades carry you through the long axis of the rink and stand in a starting position.

Your uncertainty carries into the first steps, ebbing as the sequence progresses. Touya’s scowl smoothed out and his posture relaxed, aiding the flow of your shared movements and momentum. Your legs swing out in unison and the cold air whips across your cheeks. Preliminary as it was, you were excited to be skating with him. Glad, in part, that nobody else was around, giving the illusion that you were alone together in a space of your own making.

The hour passes cycling through a waltz at a time and crests at the final turn of a Westminster waltz. Despite his lack of formal ice dance coaching Touya’s technique was decent, as was his speed, and he flowed through each pattern as if it was the hundredth time he had done it. There are areas where your edges could have been stronger, or your stances straighter, but the intimacy you worked hard to portray with Shouto came naturally with him.

“You’re surprisingly good for a guy who insists ice dancing is beneath him”.

“Ice dance is equally advanced. Stop being dramatic,” he grumbles.

“Wow. Did that hurt to say? Kinda nice of you, actually”.

“Shut up”.

A wave of shocked murmurs bursts the bubble that had formed around the pair of you. Touya cranes his head, brow furrowed. Trepidation trickles in as you catch sight of a familiar dichromatic head. Shouto is here, leaning against the boards.

“Shouchan,” you push off to greet him with a tentative smile. His expression visibly gentles, a smile of his own coming to his eyes. “You look well. It’s good to see you up, but is it okay for you to be walking so soon?”

“Aizawa encouraged it. As long as I use the crutches,” he lifts one as proof, glancing around the rink. “You looked great together”.

It sends a surge of relief through your body, quieting the nagging part of your brain that always felt as if you were cheating on Shouto somehow. Touya is slower in his approach. He hunches over the sideboard and hums in that very cavalier, cool way that actually betrayed his piqued interest. “That’s sweet and all, but what’re you doing here?”

Shouto’s gaze drags to his older brother. Touya doesn’t appear perturbed by his inexpressive face, nor his stubborn silence. Mismatched eyes, azure surrounded by old scar tissue. His mothers face, her lips and the slope of her nose. They really are reflections of each other, in many ways.

“I need permission to come see my friends now?”

Touya’s nose flares and his jaw ticks in irritation. “I didn’t come empty handed,” Shouto continues. You hadn’t noticed the takeout bag held against his front until he offered it to you. “Have you eaten? I bought udon on the way”.

“I could eat,” Touya says.

You stretch across the boards to take the bag, “It’s my udon”.

His mouth thins as he cranes his chin, looking down his nose at you as he says, “Maybe it’s for me too”.

“Is not,” you stare stubbornly at Touya, shielding the food to your chest with one arm and side-hugging Shouto with the other. A warm puff of breath skims your collarbone as he laughs.

“Please don’t flirt in front of me”.

“You wouldn’t know flirting if it hit you over the head with a crowbar,” Touya deflects haughtily. “Whatever. Hand that over”.

You whirl past him to step off the ice, valiantly trying to keep the bag out of reach on principle. When you’re seated on the bleachers, Shouto to your left and Touya on the right, you unpack the contents and realise—to the latters smug satisfaction—that yes, Shouto had brought two containers of udon.

Shouto appears content to simply be there, chin propped on the handle of his crutch, watching you both eat with a small smile. The conversation is slow and pleasant as you eat, steering from genial small talk about the weather to sarcastic quips about your rinkmates.

You pinch your chopsticks around the thick noodles and inhale the tangy-sweet scent of oyster sauce, “Is Bakugo still peacocking around you?”

Bakugo Katsuki—another prodigal solo skater and unwilling friend—had been making a point of practicing quads whenever Shouto was around. While the intention might’ve been to gloat while Shouto is unable to skate, it instead came across like a hilariously aggressive mating dance.

“He’s not peacocking. He’s just…”

“Peacocking,” Touya repeats with feeling. “Admit it”.

Shouto’s mouth twists into a little self-effacing smirk. “What about the show—are the students excited? Eri-chan was, last I saw of her”.

“Don’t change the subject. But yeah,” you smile as memories sift through your thoughts. A mass of red, runny noses bundled up in sweaters and gloves, their bright eyes staring back with enthusiasm. “They’re really excited. It’s no national competition but—”

“It is to them,” Touya cuts in pointedly. The smile slips and you blink owlishly at him. “The show will be the deciding factor for a lot of them, if they want to keep skating or not. It’s equally as important”.

“I—I know,” you assure him, feeling a little ashamed for having made light of it, albeit unintentionally. “We’ve started on the rhythm elements,” you continue hesitantly as Touya acquiesces. “Picking the music has been a nightmare”.

“Their step sequences suck,” Touya interjects. You give him an incredulous look. Seemed his compassion ran dry quickly. “What? They do,” he argues, “Eri and Kota aren’t syncing. Every time she tries to skate closer the kid pulls away”.

“It isn’t a technical issue. They just… struggle to maintain their connection, before, during, and after an element is performed… is all”.

“That’s a problem,” Shouto says. “On the ice you’re one entity. It’s important to convey that feeling of unity”.

“Yes. Thank you, Shouto,” you sigh, choosing to ignore Touya’s muffled snort. “It’ll work out in the end. Kota just has a crush Eri-chan, so he’s being awkward”.

Shouto gives a noncommittal hum. “You two seem to do fine though”.

In that instant the weight of Touya’s gaze is intense. You close your eyes, suppressing the urge to put your head between your knees. An exasperated breath promptly swelled out to the limits of your ribcage. Sheer mortification. You glare at Shouto who merely tips his head, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in amusement, not in the least bit sorry.

“Well obviously. They’re children,” you clear your throat, ducking to concentrate on finishing your meal. “I miss Fuyumi. The men in your family are impossible”.

Neither Todoroki brother reacts. “Don’t lump poor Natsu in with us like that,” Shouto says coolly.

The hot takeout tray cradled in your arms does little to soothe the restlessness of your heart as Touya drapes along the back of the bench and smirks. He looks like he’s waiting for an odalisque to feed him grapes. Instead he shovels the last of his noodles into his mouth and sucks them through puckered lips. The strand flicks him on the nose.

“Our kids will do fine as well,” he says after swallowing. You temper a smile at the use of our, your embarrassment dissipating as Shouto’s comment is left unquestioned. He picks at the last of his food with his chopsticks, pinching and letting them go. “That Kota brat just needs to remember where to put his hands”.

“How about the costumes?”

“We don’t have music sorted yet. Now you want to talk about costumes?”

“Yes. I think you should wear glitter, Touya-nii”.

“Touya-nii,” Touya mocks with a distasteful scowl. “I can’t pull glitter off like you, Prince Shouto. Forget it”.

“An androgynous look would work well. You’re prettier than you think, Touya,” you cut in over their bickering. Touya baulks, flustered. “But we’re not in the ice show, so talking about it is pointless”.

“Well, the giftbox costumes are simple enough”.

“You’re making them wear boxes?” Shouto gives you both a flat look. Touya’s mouth pulls into a wicked grin.

“Only a few of them,” he shrugs. “The elves, Santa and his wife will need a little more detail—what the hell is his wife’s name, anyway?”

You tip back against the bench in thought. The soft hair on his forearm tickles your nape and you fight the urge to jerk away, not wanting to bring attention to the contact and subsequently lose it. “Depends on the adaptation I guess. Heard once that her name is Gertrude,” you reply.

“Gertrude?” Shouto echoes, his English stilted around the unfamiliar name.

“Shit. Guess that’s why she never uses it,” Touya grimaces, tucking the chopsticks inside the empty tray and wiping his mouth. “You done eating?”

Shouto, sensing the opportunity, rights his posture and asks, “Could we get a minute alone?”

You give Touya a once-over to gauge his reaction; outline his profile, trace the line of his cheekbone back to the pierced shell of his ear, glinting amongst his unruly white hair. When his eyes flicker to yours you scramble to look away. “I’ll go throw these out,” he replies, shoving the empty takeout containers back in the bag and getting to his feet. “You’ve got two”.

Purposeful silence hangs thick over the bench. “I actually came today to apologise,” Shouto murmurs once his older brother is a distance away. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you that I made up my mind. I knew you’d want me to give it more thought if I did”.

You hook your thumb into the cuff of your skate as you allow his apology to linger longer than necessary. Enough that he squirms a bit. “You get how bad that sounds, yeah?”

“I know. I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t want to be convinced otherwise either,” Shouto concedes, taking the seat beside you. A weight settles on your shoulder, slanting where he rests his head. His hair is silky against your cheek. “I wouldn’t be upset if you took another partner next season”.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to compete without you”.

“Well. You seem happy working with Touya. You two really do skate well together,” he wrinkles his nose then, “I always imagined you would. Especially after you told me you like him—”

“I was drunk—on whisky highballs!”

“—and wanted to work with him. You have that chance now”.

You sigh and rub your cheek against his crown. The smell of tea tree and mint fills your senses. “But what about you, Shouto?”

For a long, long time ice dancing had been the one thing Shouto picked for himself. His father wanted him to compete on the ice, but he hated doing it alone, and he hated carrying Enji’s legacy. Ice dance was, in many ways, a tool for Shouto to forge his own path with you alongside him.

“Skating has been my life for as long as I can remember. I’ve pushed people away. Declined dates. Forgotten birthdays. Missed holidays,” Shouto eventually replies. “These few months away have been… jarring. Like I came back to Earth and found out the world had been carrying on without me”.

The finality of it leaves a lump in your throat. You sniffle and indulge the urge to hug him. Shouto melts into your embrace, his hand splayed at your back. It is comfortable, comforting. When you part it’ll be as though you were walking on different sides of the same street. Not far, but a parting all the same.

Shouto leaned in and you found yourself mirroring the position reflexively. “Is it different?” he asks, hushed as if talking about something taboo. “Skating with Touya, I mean”.

Flashes of the past few weeks filter through your thoughts. Of warm, rough hands on your hips. Of his mouth by your ear. Of bodies intertwined, synergies flowing. You cover your face and sigh, “I feel like I’m going to develop cardiac arrhythmia”.

“It’s that good?”

“Don’t make it sound weird! And he’s coming back so—quiet”.

The understanding noise he makes does little to comfort you. Touya raises a brow at the smug look on his brother's face but generously, says nothing.

Shouto slinks away soon after the cold starts to agitate his injuries. Eventually you find yourselves on the ice together again. You run through yet another set of twizzles at Touya’s stroppy instruction, rotating on one foot with hard-earned grace. He mimics your attempt. He manages two before dropping his left leg.

“Remember to shift from ball to heel”.

“Fuck,” Touya hisses, his blade hitting the ice with a whip-like crack. You turn in place and raise a brow at his thunderous face. He was adamant about practicing step and turn sequences after a passing comment from Shouto about its difficulty.

“You keep positioning your other leg too far back. It throws your weight off,” he eyes your hands with suspicion as you get closer, poised to reach for him “Twizzles are hard. When I first attempted a double my body seized up and I fell. Bruised the entire right side of my ribs,” you admit sheepishly, hoping it would at least make his own failures seem smaller in comparison.

“It shouldn’t be this hard. I’ve been doing axels since I could walk,” Touya insists. He sounds almost hurt, and you stand to wonder if the only thing he inferred from your words was ‘you can’t do it’.

You understand his frustration. You are hardly a stranger to the desire to succeed. You know Touya, too; know how he built his entire life in pursuit of the summit. But while Touya has been striving toward his goal with renewed vigor, you've spent the past two months learning how it feels to desire in a whole new way—to want so badly that it hurts.

“Give yourself some grace,” you shake your head with an exasperated smile and you glide toward the boards. “You’ll get it down eventually”.

He remains in the centre of the rink and raises his voice as the distance yawns wider, “Yeah, yeah. I got it”.

“Are you staying longe—?” the call thrown over your shoulder as you step off the ice halts midway. The hem of Touya’s shirt has risen beneath the wide movement of his arms. You’re drawn to the swath of bare skin—physically unable to unglue your eyes from Touya’s lower back as he attempts another step sequence. You frown, having not noticed it before, "Is that KT tape?”

Touya had two bands of athletic tape parallel to each other on his back, the pale blue contrasted against his skin. “Sometimes. Increases my range of motion,” he reaches around to peel them off, then rolls the strips in his palm before shoving them in his sweatpant pocket. “Skin grafts messed with my flexibility. You know that”.

“I… do, yeah”. You did. Yet the information never stuck, because Touya always worked so hard you never would’ve thought he was suffering. “Ignore me, sorry. Are you staying behind, or?”

“Nah. Let me do another lap,” his voice reverberates around the rink, volume rippling with his continuous awkward rotations. “Go on. I’ll meet you out front and walk you to the bus”.

The light scrape of his skates remains inordinately loud now that everybody is gone. You drag a cloth over your blades before snapping on the guards and heading to the changing rooms. You take off your skates and do a few light stretches before washing up. The satisfying burn in your muscles dwindles as they relax and fatigue sets in; lately they’re so sore you’re sure they’ll slough off the bone.

After slipping into a clean pair of leggings and your loosest hoodie you hoist your sports bag up and cross the strap over your chest. Your phone vibrates with a notification from Nejire asking how you’ve been. You reply as you shrug on your bag and head out toward the entrance, stopping to duck into Aizawa’s office.

“Hey, Aizawa-sensei. We’ll be heading out no… oh,” you falter when you look up from the screen to find another skater seated across from Aizawa. “Hey, Midoriya! Sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I should’ve knocked”.

Izuku waves back and forth at your apology. “No, no! It’s okay I just came by to say hi,” he demurred, hand then fluttering to rub the back of his neck. He glances at Aizawa. “I’m just leaving, actually. Want to head out together?”

It’s a surprise to see him, though not an unpleasant one. You could’ve sworn he was away to partake in a skate exhibition. In that fraction of a second you wrack your mind for the date, the place, and when it clicks you try not to grimace. It had been over a week ago. The knowledge makes obvious what an absent friend you’ve been.

You smile softly, hoping he can see the apology in it. “Sure. I’d like that,” you tell him. “I’m actually meeting Touya at the reception. Just warning you”.

“Touya-san isn’t that bad,” his grin widens as he stands. Still boyish in a way he’ll probably never shed. You linger in the doorway while he bows to bid Aizawa goodbye and you wonder if he had even realised your lapse in memory.

Your eyes catch a flash of colour. His signature bright red skates are hooked on his backpack. They knock together when he walks. “So, tell me. How was the exhibition?” you playfully nudge his side as he falls in line with you. At the mention a stroke of pink spreads across his cheeks.

“It was really fun, and so different from competing. The choreography was amazing—and the lights. I couldn’t believe how coordinated everything was!” he rambles, brushing the mossy hair atop his head back and frowning when it flops back over his eyes.

You shove your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see it,” your fingers fiddle along the inner seams. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner, too”.

Izuku’s confused expression smooths into a familiar exasperated fondness. “You sound like Shouto. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I know you’ve been busy with Touya-san,” he teases, as though to remind you of that fact. “Ochako took a bunch of pictures. I’ll show you them next time I’m here, or—I can send them to you?”

“I’m still sorry. But thank you. I’d love to see them,” you concede to his kind insistence. Guided by a surge of affection for your friend you loop your arm through his and Izuku slows his stride. “So, gold medalist Midoriya Izuku, where are you heading off to next?”

The flush across his cheeks deepens, but he doesn’t appear flustered, and he doesn’t pull away. Izuku has long outgrown his childhood aversion to touch. You recall how wooden he once was, never knowing where to place his hands, how tight to squeeze or how long to linger. Now he takes it in his stride—actually, he’s something of a fiend for it.

“I’m meeting Kacchan. He actually picked this place,” he says, with just as gleeful as he had been while talking about the exhibition. You smile reflexively at the laughter jostling his shoulders, “It’s called ‘Mean Mug’!”

“Sounds like the perfect place for Bakugo”.

“Right?”

Interlinked, you pivot the next corner and wander into the open space. The receptionist desk is empty, as expected, and Touya is waiting by the entrance. What almost stops you in your tracks is the sight of Takami Keigo.

Touya’s eyes find yours across the threshold, pleading. They harden as they flicker to Izuku. He wrinkles his nose, ignoring whatever Keigo is saying, and Izuku tenses. You squeeze his forearm and try not to laugh. “What happened to ‘he’s not that bad’?” you ask under your breath.

“That was when we had one foot between us,” Izuku whispers. He raises his voice to greet the other men with surety as you close the distance, “Touya-san, Takami-san, it’s good to see you!”

“If it isn’t the wonder boy. You did well at the exhibition. The reviews were pouring in,” Keigo drawls, patting Izuku’s shoulder. The younger skater preens. Keigo’s attention turns to you. An amused smile stole over his features as he punctuated the syllables of your name, a flirty lilt to his tone. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”.

You unlatch your arm from Izuku’s and come to stand at Touya’s side. “Hawks,” you make reference to his stage name, equal parts amused and ruffled. “How’s the season going?”

A lazy smirk hangs on his lips. He rocks on his heels. “As expected. I was just tellin’ Touya I’ll be taking it easy until the NHK Trophy,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “But enough about me”.

“That’s a rare sentence,” you heard Touya mutter. You bite the inside of your cheek and elbow him in the side, hard.

“There’s a noticeable gap now that you and Shouto aren’t competing, y’know,” Keigo pats Touya’s shoulder, firm enough to not be shrugged off. “Are you planning on coming back, or are you stuck here with him now?”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am,” you answer, before Touya can interject with vitriol that’ll likely get you kicked out. He’s physically bristling at your side.

Keigo scrutinizes you for a second longer. “Blink if you need help,” he squints. You smile back, unblinking, and he releases a noise of surrender, hands held out palms up. “Alright, I’ll bite. I can’t stick around much longer. Midoriya, which way you headed?”

You’re too preoccupied with assessing Touya to eavesdrop on their friendly small talk. “Sorry I took so long,” you tell him. “Hope you didn’t suffer too badly”.

“I won’t forgive you,” Touya leans needlessly close to your ear. You tear at the fabric of your hoodie from the confines of the front pocket and suppress a shiver.

“Ah, lucky lucky! I’ll give you a ride,” you hear Keigo announce, leaving no room for rejection. Izuku deflates slightly, moreso in surrender than actual dismay. You offer him a sympathetic nod.

“We’ll see you retired lovebirds some other time,” Keigo throws out a two finger salute. Izuku motions to hug you, but as his gaze crosses Touya he decides to redirect the awkward flight path of his hand to your bicep and squeezes.

“It was really good seeing you again. Tell Shouto to text me—we can catch up,” he says, wearily glancing to your left. “I’ll see you!”

Keigo corrals him away with a distinct cackle.

“Lovebirds,” you echo dumbly. Touya’s presence moves away like the sun being blocked out. “Where are you—hey!”

The doors slide open to a street lined with camphor trees. Long shadows are cast across the concrete. Stepping into the crisp evening air, you can’t help but appreciate the apricity that kisses your face.

Touya walked onward, rubbed at his mottled cheek and stifled a yawn, arms stretching above his head. The faint bumps left where his skin grafts had been stitched together all those years ago pulled taut.

Stubbornly, you do not want to part ways yet.

“Y’know, the winter fair isn’t far from here,” you managed to say, scrambling for a reasonable excuse to prolong his departure. “They even put the little rink out with the fake penguins and everything this year. You wanna go?”

“Yeah. Great idea. Let's go and do what we do every single day,” Touya replies, with enough sarcasm that you have to look again and check whether he’s joking or annoyed. The tendon along his neck strains under his thin lipped smile. Annoyed, then.

“Just a thought. You don’t need to be such a dick about it,” you mumble, hearing how your voice goes tight despite your efforts. His jaw works in your periphery, like he’s trying to dig out the words he needs from between his teeth.

Touya sighs. The fight drains from him and in one swift motion he snatches your hand to thread your fingers together. Your palms kiss, clasped tight. You feel your heart kick in your chest. “Fucking—alright. Get that look off your face,” he conceded in an unexpectedly gentle voice. Your attention snaps toward him, but he has already schooled his expression back to resignation.

The winter fair is far from difficult to find. At the mouth is a narrow space covered by a canopy of twinkling lights, washing the darkening surroundings in a bright starlight glow. Stalls are lined either side, painted in shades of red and green, displaying various homemade crafts and street food. Your attention to the surroundings waned, returning again and again to Touya, sneaking furtive glances as he roved the market. You felt a surge of pride at the gleam in his eye, counting his ease as a small victory.

“Let’s get tamagoyaki,” you suggest excitedly. “Oh, or hot chocolate?”

“Are you twelve?”

You point at a display in the distance. What appears to be a rendition of a sentient mug of hot chocolate, topped with whip cream hair and marshmallows. In its cartoonish hand is a liquor bottle, “They can put rum in it”.

That earns his unspoken approval. Touya herds you toward the tinsel-covered stall in lieu of a response. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and your breathless laughter is light enough to get lost in the smooth notes. He orders the drinks, and while you’re distracted by the hot takeout cup thrust into your hands, he pays too. Kind of like a date, your traitorous mind whispers. In a leisurely daze, you allow the crowd to guide you both deeper into the belly.

Touya’s defenses lower with every sip and appreciative hum, tongue loose enough to speak about the life he leads away from the rink. You find him easier to talk to like this, this softer, relaxed version of Touya, stripped of all tension, purpose and sharp edges. “I still can’t believe you actually know him, though”.

Touya rolls his eyes skyward, seeking patience, and you wonder how often he has to hear that line. “He’s just some guy,” he says. “And a pain in my ass”.

“He’s Shimura Nana’s grandson. The first woman to ever land a triple axel!”

“Old news,” he pinched his brow in a delicate mocking gesture. “You were all cosy with Mighty Yagi’s protege less than an hour ago but you’re excited about Tenko? He doesn’t even skate”.

Heat rushes to your face. “Midoriya is—I was not cosy! He’s Shouchan’s best friend,” you argue before clusmily amending your words, “Shouchan’s other best friend”.

“Right,” Touya snorts.

Wisps of steam roll over the rim as you sip. The spiked hot chocolate slides down the back of your throat, warming you from the inside out. You watch the bob of his throat as he tips his cup back and swallows. Discarding it in the nearby bin, he motions for you to do the same. “C’mon. You’re the one that wanted to skate more”.

“We don’t have to if you’re that bothered”.

“I’m not bothered. I just don’t get why you’d want to”.

Because it’s you. “It’s for the novelty of it!”

The bickering continues on your journey to the skating rink. You give it a once over, then a second take, discerning whether it is even made of ice. The surface is murky and scratched beyond recognition.

“Here. Good luck tying those things,” Touya deposits a pair of rental skates into your arms with an air of disdain before grabbing his own. “If I strain my ankle tonight I’ll kill you”.

“You’d miss me too much” you bump his shoulder to distract from your own racing heart. The corner of his eyes crinkle, betraying his harsh leer.

Cut-out frames have been fixed around the nearby benches, cardboard pillars have been wrapped in more fairy lights, giving the feel of an enclosed space. “Cute. Like our very own kiss and cry,” you say, bending to shove your feet into the skates and grumble when the tendon guard digs unnaturally into your calf.

“This is a cardboard box”.

You tighten your laces too tight after a spark of agitation. “Could you suspend your disbelief for five minutes?”

“No,” Touya rises and stomps to settle into his boots. He inclines his head toward the rink. “Let’s go,” and he gestures for you to take his hand again while looking elsewhere. You smile shyly and take it.

As suspected the ice is miles from ideal for skating—not that the general public would notice. You feel the difference the second your blade meets the surface and your instincts kick in. Simultaneously too soft and too rough. The thin indents catch as you glide ahead, fist enclosed to retain the sensation of Touya’s fingers.

You can sense his focused gaze on your lazy motions like kerosene and after a few laps he dashes ahead, following the parameter, a lithe slip of moonlight. It makes known an unwarranted hollow in your chest. There’s nothing to be wanted or missed and yet your arms felt empty, hungry. Pushing against your skates you strive to keep pace.

You wanted him to keep looking at you. To see an equal in you. You suppose that’s a quality you shared.

In your distraction you’d failed to notice the crowd gathering outside the rink. Awareness creeps the length of your spine. People are holding up their phones filming the pair of you and you’re hardly skating anything groundbreaking.

Touya relishes it.

“You’ve skated in front of tens of thousands of people but a few dozen spectators is what gets you scared?” he flashes a smarmy grin. His skates carry him closer. Rough hands take you by the hips, fingers kneading slowly towards the middle of your back, spreading outwards as if wanting to canvas more of you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand endwise as his voice deepens, “Wanna make it a show worth their while?”

You suck a sharp breath and your toe pick catches on the uneven surface, almost throwing you off balance. He steadies you, tips his head back and laughs.

You remain markedly clumsy as a pair, in a drawing outside of the lines sort of way. There’s no music yet at some point you fall into a familiar sequence and Touya fights to match you. It’s as though your inhibitors have been loosened; you often find yourself getting carried away with the routine. Any judge would think you were an over excited novice. But it’s exhilarating. It’s—fun. Fun in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.

Your bodies came flush together in a final grand movement. Close enough to mimic the rapid rise and fall of Touya’s chest as though it were your own. You spend a few scant moments staring at each other as you catch your breath. Taking in the atmosphere, the proximity you’d never been afforded until now. Blood has risen in Touya’s cheeks and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes are full of a childlike excitement you haven’t seen in years.

“Did you mean what you said?”

You regain your bearings, “What?”

“About being happy with what you’re doing now,” he clarifies. Your mouth parts in soft surprise, and he grows tense in the seconds it takes to form an answer.

“Without Shouto I might never return to competing and I’ve mostly made peace with that reality,” the tightening in your chest made it clear just how true those words were. You smile then, “Helping you with the kids, it’s… I feel like I’ve won all there is to win. Is that stupid?”

Years ago you used to watch Touya skate and think there probably wasn’t a person in the world whose depth and intensity of feeling matched his loneliness. You would wonder how he survived it—

Above, the lights emphasise the shadows of his scars. Maps of lines, intricate furrows, beginnings and endings, tangible proof that he had changed and grown.

—you know now, having received your own fill, how he found himself surrounded by love with no idea how he came to acquire it.

“No. Maybe a little,” Touya answered. You think he’s the only man to exist that can make a leer appear fond.

A camera flash goes off. A couple dozen more.

“That’s probably not good,” you point out, though you’re struggling to find it within yourself to care. “They’ll have my name in Skatebuzz again. Aizawa will kill us”.

“I can see the headlines now. Prospective Olympian’s disgraced brother steals his partner away,” Touya’s vindictive mirth ghosts over your lips, fleeting and hesitant, “…can’t wait”.

Your blood sings, rising to the surface of your skin to meet him. You looked at him in such a way, like he couldn’t wait to—kiss you. A barely audible exhale asks, “What’re you doing?”

He slides a hand up the curve of your throat, thumb pressed to your pulse. “What does it look like?”

The restraint drains away.

You clutch at the front of his shirt as he sips at your mouth. It’s far too indulgent to be chaste, and when you pull away—barely an inch—to look at him, his eyes are already half lidded and watching you, close enough to count his lashes, pale as they fan over his cheeks.

A raucous applause thunders in your ears.

But the reverential murmur of your name is that much louder.

TO THE RINK AND BACK: TODOROKI TOUYA’S ROMANTIC RETURN? Skatebuzz - 13 December 20XX - 10:05

Todoroki Touya, once a favoured national champion, skates publicly for the first time since the career ending accident that left him permanently scarred. But he was not spotted alone. Lips locked with Todoroki Shouto’s former partner, the skating community are buzzing at the possibility of his return…

[weretiger-be-my-horse]

so a while ago i read a theory on reddit (can't recall the user, sorry) that said that asagiri purposely shortened the manga chapters after season 4 was released so that the anime adaptation caught up to the manga. if you are a manga reader, you already know this is true and that season 5 episode 11 goes in fact beyond the manga plot.

this reddit user gave various reasons for this. one (and perhaps the most plausible one) said that it was to force manga readers to watch the season 5 finale. but i think i recall that another option may have been to tie up the manga and the anime, since parallel worlds have a special and pivotal role in bsd (we literally have the beast universe there) and therefore asagiri would be treating the manga and anime storylines as parallel worlds/universes.

and i can't help but worry because i was so relieved when dazai and fukuzawa came out of the conflict alright and everyone started to wake up. we got the detectives back, the hunting dogs (except for yosano, tachihara and jouno) and some port mafia members such as akutagawa and chuuya. both enemies (fyodor and fukuchi) were defeated AND killed. this puts the entirety of the fandom at ease.

the last few seconds of the episode show atsushi and akutagawa fighting against an ame-no-gozen wielder, who has fukuchi's scars and is also wearing a mask similar to the one he's wearing in an official art. so it's HEAVILY hinted that it's him.

now, the thing is, what if the manga takes another direction? what if that fukuchi is there because in the manga the ada loses and fukuchi/fyodor uses the book to jump into the reality where they don't win, which is the anime?

like now we manga readers are sort of relieved because the anime showed us how the arc ends, right? we just watched it. we will read that in the october chapter, right?

but what if

[atths--twice]

February Happenings

Valentine's Day and Scully's birthday all in the same month? How will they celebrate this year?

Oh, I have missed this little family. Every time I drop back into their lives, I feel so happy and fluffy. I hope you do too. 💓

(Story 53 in the Family Series)

February 2023

Card stock in shades of pink, red, white, and a beautiful teal, lay on the kitchen table along with paint and paintbrushes, a tray full of glue, glitter, sequins, googly eyes, letter beads, and a cup full of edger scissors.

Scully looked at everything as she took off her coat and laid it on the back of a chair. Mulder was creating a space for Faith to begin their activity and Scully smiled as she watched him.

“Did you buy whatever she pointed at once again, Mulder?” she teased and he grinned, not stopping in his task. “You know, a box of valentines cards cost about three dollars, tops.”

“Premade, unimaginative, mass produced valentines cards you mean,” he said, shaking his head. “Something with candy added that is probably from last year because it wasn’t sold and was stored away for next year. No thank you.” He shook his head again as he laid Faith’s painting smock on her chair. “These valentines are going to kick so much ass.”

“You are too adorable. I love that you get so excited about everything with her,” she said, stepping closer and looking up at him with a smile. He smiled back as he set the pack of stickers he was holding onto the table.

“I love that she’s so excited about everything now. I mean she has been in the past, but with school and her growing up, she’s excited on a different level.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she continued to smile. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she pulled him closer and kissed him. “Adorable. And so sexy all at the same time.”

“It’s a fine line, but I’m happy to walk it,” he said, kissing her again as she laughed softly against his lips.

“Okay, Daddy!” Faith said, coming out of the bathroom. “I’m ready to make valentine's cards. Mommy, me and daddy are going to make beautiful cards for all my friends at school and the teachers and also for Unco, Raycho, and the twins.”

Scully looked down at her as she stepped back from Mulder. Smiling at Faith, she placed her hand on her head and stroked her hair.

“They will be the most beautiful valentines ever, I’m sure. You have lots of supplies.”

“Uh huh,” Faith said with a nod. “Daddy said I could get whatever I wanted to make them.”

Mulder cleared his throat and Scully tilted her head as she looked at him.

“Did he?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Yup!” Faith said, clapping her hands together. “So we got a lot of stuff. I like the sparkly glitter the best.”

“I’m sure you do, my love,” Scully said, shaking her head as her smile grew.

“Well, how about we get started?” Mulder said, looking at Faith with a smile and avoiding Scully’s gaze.

“Yeah! I’m ready!” she said, getting into her chair and sitting down.

“Sucker,” Scully whispered and she saw his eyes cut to hers with a smile as he helped Faith with her smock.

“Will you be joining us, Mommy?” he asked and she nodded happily. “Well, then please wash your hands first. Thank you.”

She chuckled softly as she picked up her coat and hung it on the new coat rack by the door. Faith’s pink coat and her small purple scarf also hung there along with Mulder’s new black peacoat. Letting out a deep breath, she left her coat and her worries about the day at the hospital behind, before walking to the bathroom to wash her hands.

Soap still clung to the sides of the sink and a large blob was stuck to the adorable fawn soap dispenser Skinner and Rachel had given Faith for Christmas. She had only relented to it being used for its actual purpose two weeks ago as she had insisted on sleeping with it at first, the pump portion left on a shelf downstairs.

Washing her hands, Scully wiped off the fawn, dried her hands, and walked back to the table and sat down.

She watched them, without helping at first, and she smiled. Faith was laughing at something Mulder said, his face contorted into a comical expression. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at him and he winked at her quickly as he reached for the cup of scissors.

The best of friends, Scully thought as she picked out a piece of paper and folded it in half.

“Daddy,” Faith said, still laughing slightly. “Can you help me make a heart? Will you show me again?”

“Absolutely, my love. Like this.”

He drew a heart on a piece of paper and pushed it toward her for her to see.

“I don’t know if I can do it like that,” she said with a frown and he smiled as he held her hand and traced the heart with her own marker.

“See? Like this. Or I can do this too,” he said, beginning to make dash lines to create a heart. “Do you remember when we did this last year? Mommy made them and then you drew over them?”

“I don’t know,” Faith said, frowning in concentration as she followed the dash marks. “I did it! I made a heart!” She smiled at him and then at Scully, who smiled back.

“Good job, love,” she said and Faith nodded as she looked back at the heart.

They began to discuss the day, Faith telling them about school and Mulder asking after one of her current favorite friends. Scully nodded as she listened, but her mind was elsewhere as she stared at Faith, wishing she could stay at this perfectly wonderful age.

Four years old now, she had grown up so much since she started school. She loved every bit of it, coming home with artwork and stories of her day.

The first month had been great and then something had changed and she cried every time, not wanting to go.

“It’s common that this would happen,” Scully had assured Mulder when he had called her at the hospital, where she had been attending meetings before her upcoming first day, to tell her of Faith’s tears. “She was excited at first but now the newness has worn off a bit and she’s feeling different about it. Once she’s there, I know that she’s fine. It’s just the initial shock of it. She’ll get past it.”

“As a man with a degree in psychology, I know this, but as her dad… I don’t,” he had said with a deep sigh and she had smiled.

“I know you do.”

And she had been right, of course. It had been only a couple of weeks of tears, and then Faith had been happy and excited to go to school again.

She had made friends quickly and talked of her favorites every day, saying what they had done that she liked most.

“Sadie can run really fast,” she had said at dinner. “Liam is so funny. He makes me laugh so much.”

As a result, they had met the parents of Sadie and Liam, along with those of Tawny and Micah, all of them stating that they had heard Faith’s name spoken often in their house.

“Who would ever have guessed that a child of yours, with your antisocial behavior, would be so popular?” Scully had teased Mulder and he had laughed.

“Who wouldn’t love her?” he had stated. “She’s amazing.”

They had celebrated her birthday at school, giving out small goodie bags to her classmates, which had been assembled by all of them one evening.

Mulder had readied the multicolored bags, writing each child’s name on it before handing it to Faith to fill with stickers, animal shaped erasers, pencils, and a box of crayons. She had then passed it to Scully to tie with a rainbow ribbon and place in a cardboard box.

Faith had come home singing songs, asking them to play school with her while she acted as the teacher, and sharing everything she had learned.

The twins, one year old and her very favorite playmates, had benefited from her schooling as she “read” to them every chance she had, explaining the pictures in the book as she pointed them out. She had told them about the life cycle of bugs, how seeds grew, and what made a rainbow.

“It makes sense that she would be smarter than the average toddler, having the two of you as parents,” Skinner had said, shaking his head when he heard Faith discussing reflected light and water droplets, the twins staring at her and listening intently. Mulder had grinned and nodded, pride shining in his eyes.

Over Christmas, they had all gone to a large cabin in the mountains. Scully had been happy to get some time off from the hospital. She loved being back at work, but some days were harder than others, and she felt it keenly in a way she had not before having a small child she came home to every night.

They had gone sledding, skiing, and built snowmen, women, and children. It had been fun and relaxing with Santa coming and bringing minimal gifts that kept all the children happy and playing together.

January had then trudged through as only January can do, feeling as though it stretches on through eternity.

“Waiting till February feels like the drive to Unco and Raycho’s house,” Faith had said one night, the excitement of the celebration of Valentine’s Day front in her mind after Mulder had told her about it. “It takes a looooong time.”

She had flopped dramatically onto the beanbag chair they had bought for her art corner, sighing loudly. Bella had hurried over, whining softly as she laid her head on Faith’s stomach. Her tail had wagged gently as Faith pet her and sighed again.

Once the calendar hit February, she had been in full Valentine mode, discussing and planning for the trip to the craft store. Now with all the necessary items purchased, she was ready to create her many visions for those she loved.

“So, hon,” Mulder said and Scully hummed as she looked down at the blank paper in front of her. She picked up a pencil and began to draw a heart. “Have you thought more about what I asked you last night?”

“What did you ask me?” Scully asked him, looking up with a slight frown.

“About your upcoming birthday,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What you wanted to do that day.”

“Oh, that,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t need anything. Dinner. Maybe a little cake. Nothing special.”

“Nothing special?” he asked, scoffing at her words. “Are you hearing this, Faithy? Mommy said she doesn’t want to do anything special for her birthday.”

“But it’s your birthday, Mommy. It’s your own special day,” Faith said, frowning at her, the paintbrush in her hand full of blue paint. “You have to do something special.”

“What would you suggest I choose, my sweet girl?” Scully asked with a smile.

“Maybe… the trampoline place?” Faith suggested, her expression hopeful.

Mulder and Scully both laughed and she shook her head, stroking Faith’s cheek and booping her on the nose.

“I don't know about that, but I’ll keep thinking, okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” Faith said, smiling as she returned to her painting.

Scully watched her for a moment and then looked at Mulder. He grinned and winked at her and she smiled.

“Not the trampoline place,” she said firmly and he put his hands up in silent agreement.

____________

Scully stretched with a moan, cuddling into the bed, the blankets warm. She sighed as she opened her eyes and then closed them again. Stretching once more, she looked over her shoulder.

No Mulder.

That meant Faith was up already though it seemed early, judging by the light filling the room.

Pushing the blankets back, she sat on the edge of the bed and yawned. Standing up, she retrieved her slippers and shuffled into the bathroom. Coming out a few minutes later, tying her bathrobe’s belt around her, she walked to the door and turned the handle.

Many things happened at once and she stepped back in surprise as they did.

An assortment of colored balloons, previously held in place by the strips of rainbow crepe paper taped zigzaggedly across the door frame, fell at her feet, bouncing and collecting around her. Loud pops sounded as paper confetti flew through the air, and landed beside the balloons. Faith squealed and then laughed as Bella barked in surprise. Mulder laughed and then called down to Bella that everything was okay.

“Surprise, Mommy! Surprise!” Faith yelled, jumping up and down excitedly. “Do you like your birthday surprise?”

“Well,” Scully chuckled, her hand on her chest, where her heart was beating rapidly. “You surprised me very much. My goodness… I think you either added years or took some off.”

“Off an immortal?” Mulder teased. “I doubt it.” He grinned at her and she shook her head.

“Me and Daddy made the surprise for you, Mommy. We had a plan. It was a secret plan,” Faith said, looking at Mulder who nodded.

“It was indeed,” Mulder said. “It was actually Faith’s idea. She wanted you to have a special birthday surprise.”

“And you succeeded brilliantly,” Scully said, beginning to take down the crepe paper so she could leave the bedroom.

“You loved it?” Faith asked and Scully grinned.

“I did love it. Very much.”

“And the fetti canyon? That too?” Faith asked, jumping up and down.

“The confetti cannon? Yes, I loved it. And it definitely surprised me.”

“Yay!” Faith shouted, spinning around with her arms above her head.

Scully smiled at Mulder as she walked through the doorway and he smiled back.

“We chose pink for the confetti cannon because it’s your favorite color,” he informed her.

“Is it?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup. For today it is. Happy birthday, love.”

“Thank you,” she said, placing a hand on his chest and rising on tiptoes to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Hmm. I love you too,” he said, kissing her again. “Okay! We can take care of this mess later because we have so much more planned for today, don’t we, Faithy?”

“Yeah! We made you breakfast, Mommy. Special pancakes, but it’s waffles instead,” Faith said, picking up two balloons and waving them around.

“Oh,” Scully laughed softly. “So waffles then?”

“Yes. Daddy let me lick the spatch… the spatch…”

“Spatula?” Scully asked, bending down to scoop Faith up in a tight hug.

“Yeah. The black one with the brown handle.”

“Was it good?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

But breakfast had to wait… for a few minutes at least.

All the balloons were tossed down the stairs, floating gently into Faith’s waiting arms as she giggled and yelled let ‘em rip! much to Scully and Mulder’s amusement. Bella barked again, the amount of balloons seeming to make her feel anxious. Grey, running in from a morning romp, froze when she saw them, her fur rising as she hissed.

“Maybe we put the balloons in your room, sweetie,” Mulder suggested, as Bella whined and laid down on her bed, watching Faith with sad eyes. “I don’t think Grey and Bella like the balloons as much as you do.”

“It’s okay, Belly Bells. We’ll put them away now, okay?” Faith asked as she hurried over to pet Bella, leaning down to put their heads together. “Maybe if I have only two, it would be okay? I won’t scare you with them, I promise.” Bella licked her nose and Faith giggled, kissing her head before standing up.

The balloons were gathered and brought upstairs to Faith’s bedroom, the floor covered with them, except for the two left downstairs.

As they sat down to eat their breakfast of waffles with whipped cream, strawberries, and syrup along with eggs and bacon, Mulder and Faith informed her of the plans for the rest of the day.

“We have appointments for manicures and pedicures at ten-”

“Wait… all of us?”

“Yup. All of us,” he stated with a nod and she smiled. “Then lunch at that place you like by the water-”

“Zinnia’s?” she interrupted again, looking at him in surprise and he nodded. “Hmm, that sounds nice.”

“It will be,” he said, winking at her. “Then we’re going to Skinner and Rachel’s for a barbecue and some cake. Then, Miss Faith is going to stay the night and Uncle Walter will take her to school in the morning.”

“So we’ll have-”

“The night to ourselves… yes,” he said, staring at her with the look that made her stomach quiver, even after all these years.

“Imagine that,” she said, lowering her voice and watching the way it affected him, smiling when he shook his head at her.

“I’m going to sleep the night at Raycho and Unco’s?” Faith asked and Mulder’s attention turned to her.

“You are. Does that sound like fun? Was it a good surprise?”

“Yes!” Faith shouted, raising her fork in the air and Scully laughed. “I will sleep in the big bed. Can I bring my light night with me?”

“Of course you can bring your night light and whatever else you want, within reason.”

“Yay! Can I pack my backpack now?”

“Sure, if you’d like to, but we aren’t leaving for a bit yet.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I’m all finished with my breakfast.” She wiped her mouth and hurried from the table, nearly knocking over her glass of milk.

“Be careful!” Mulder called after her as he caught the glass. “Sheesh.”

“Impulsive. Quick to jump into a situation. Now where have I seen that behavior before?” Scully teased, taking a sip of her coffee and looking at him.

“Impulsive we may be, yes. But also detail oriented. And hyper focused,” he said, holding her gaze.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that quality,” she replied over the rim of her coffee cup. “But I never mind being reminded.”

“Hmm,” he hummed with a nod. “And I never tire of reminding you.”

“Daddy! Can you help me?” Faith called from upstairs and Scully grinned at him.

“You’re being summoned.”

“I noticed,” he said, continuing to sit and stare at her.

“You should go and see what she wants.”

“Hmm,” he hummed with an agreeing nod.

“Daddy!”

“Yes, Faithy. I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, bring the broom up with you,” Scully said, setting her coffee cup down and spearing a strawberry with her fork. “Or the vacuum, for that confetti mess on the floor, because I won’t be cleaning it up later. And unless you would rather do that than join me in the bedroom-”

“I’ll get the broom and the vacuum,” he said, jumping up and hurrying to grab them.

She laughed as she ate the strawberry, catching his eye as he started towards the stairs.

“Hey,” she said, jerking her head at him.

He nodded and came back to the table. She looked up and smiled as he bent closer to her. He kissed her softly, but she opened her mouth, not wanting a gentle kiss. Her tongue grazed his and the broom hit the floor with a loud clatter.

“Scully,” he said, pulling back and letting out a harsh breath as he shook his head.

He picked up the broom and stared at her as he walked to the stairs. She arched an eyebrow at him and he shook his head again.

“Make sure you get every piece of that confetti,” she told him.

“I won’t miss one,” he assured her, starting up the stairs as a purple balloon bounced softly down. They looked at each other and she laughed as he tried and failed to catch it.

“I’ll get it, you go help Faith pack,” she said as she stood up and picked up the balloon. “Oh and, Mulder?”

“Yes?” he asked, turning around to look at her.

“Thank you for making today special.”

“You’re welcome, hon.” He winked at her and turned to continue up the stairs.

She watched him, holding the balloon by its small neck, and hitting it against her hand.

“Can I help you clean up the fetti, Daddy? Can I use the broom?” Faith said and Scully waited to hear Mulder’s response.

“You can. We need to make sure we get them all off the floor.”

“Or Mommy might be mad?”

“No. She won’t be mad one bit. She just doesn’t want us to have to clean it up later tonight.”

“Because I will be at Unco’s and I won’t be here to help you?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Mulder said quietly.

Scully laughed as she went to clear the table, already thinking ahead to the evening and wondering if she should hunt up the pink and black thing that Mulder loved so much or if it would even be necessary.

Yeah, she thought with a nod, knowing how sexy it made her feel. Tonight definitely calls for the pink and black thing.