air cannabis

fic; blunt talking

standalone; pg-13 for drug use; mentions of homophobia; Dana Scully & Melissa Scully; pre-series; Melissa Scully comes home from college with a plan: to get Dana high. 

A/N: Dedicated to my best friends and my sister and all the people who’ve shared moments with me, just like this. 


Roberta Flack is singing about what god doesn’t like and Melissa figures it’s probably her. Whatever. God doesn’t like a lot of things – it is just too damn hard to keep up. 

Footsteps resonate through the heavy calm of her body – tap, tap, tap, perfect posture, a Navy cadence – and a smile spreads lazily across her face. She has been waiting for this all day.

The door clicks open. “Melissa!” and then: “Melissa! What are you doing?” 
Rolling over on the well-made bed to face the doorway, a fondness floods her instantly. Dana always looks so much younger every time she comes back to visit. In hand-me down bell bottoms and a pastel turtle neck, high school senior Dana Scully looks positively pre-pubescent.

“Mom told me you got your braces removed,” Melissa replies, languidly hoisting herself up. “I wanted to see it for myself.”

“You did not fly across the country to see me without braces,” Dana rolls her eyes. Then she sniffs the air warily. “And smoke cannabis in our father’s house.”

“It’s not technically his. Uncle Sam owns us all. Come here, Dana.” With much reservation, Dana carefully places her bookbag down beside her military-issue desk and turns to face the bed. “Give your sister a hug.”

“I don’t like hugs,” she says moodily, but pulls her sister into her arms anyway. “Missy, why are you here? Classes start up soon for you, don’t they?”

“It’s a three day weekend – I’m catching a plane in the morning. And I don’t care, you always hug your sister every time you see her.” The younger woman climbs on the bed beside her, choosing wisely to avoid any complaints when Melissa clasps both of her hands in her own. Dana’s nail polish is chipped, a terrible color for her skintone. Melissa loves it. 

“You shouldn’t have brought all those drugs here, Melissa, mom and dad might–”

“Mom and dad won’t be coming back til midnight. It’s the vet banquet, remember?”


“Can’t say shit after I caught him and Shelly Mackey in the garage this morning.”

“You didn’t. Shelly Mackey? Isn’t she like…”

“Seven feet tall? You got it. I think it’s great. Boorish brother Bill needs to get smacked around a little by someone his own size.” 

“Charlie’s due to come back from his scout meeting anytime now.”

“Mom told me he’s spending the night at Roger’s house, that little scout boy down the street. And Charlie’s the least likely tattle-tale in this family. That’s all you and Bill, Dana.”

“Hey! That was one time! We were sharing a bed!” 

“And now I’ll never see Darrin Jamis again. I think he’s actually in seminary school now after our dear old father put the fear of god into him. Anyway,” Melissa reaches behind her and pulls out an Altoids tin from out of Dana’s perfectly pressed pillowcase. “I didn’t come to reminisce on all of that. I came to smoke some pot with my sister.” 

“Excuse me?” the shorter girl hisses, scooting back hastily on the bed. Her eyes are hard steel as they pass over the open tin in Melissa’s hand, full with five plump little joints. “I am not smoking marijuana with you, Melissa! Are you out of your mind?” 

“Don’t call it marijuana, Dana, the U.S. government spread that term to capitalize on our fear of Hispanic people to stop us from deriving pleasure from a substance that was planted here by God himself. It’s much better than your little cigarette habit. No harsh chemicals.” To her sister’s loud protest, Melissa pulls a zippo out from the pillow case and pleasantly sparks up. 

“That’s a dumb thing to say. Everything is chemicals. I learned that in my chemistry class.” She studies archly Melissa over the elegant slope of her nose. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Smoke fills her lungs and she holds it there, a comforting pressure that warms her limbs and massages her eyelids. After exhaling in an impressive, pretty cloud, she lets herself fall back onto the pillow and thrusts the joint in her sister’s direction.

“We shared a bed,” she throws Dana’s words back at her, curling her lips in patient smile. “You’d sneak out at midnight and you’d come back drowning in that cheap dollar store body spray… what was it called, Summer Seduction? Not exactly subtle. And you’d brush your teeth and floss – you’re the only one besides daddy who’d do it once, let alone twice –  and I could hear it in the bathroom.”

“That’s not – I wasn’t –”

“Then you’d spend the whole week sassing the entire family. I kept expecting you to put on a leather jacket and ride off into the sunset on some kid’s motorcycle.” She nestles her face into the pillow and moans, waving the joint in the air. “Smoke this weed, Dana.” 

“You’re not supposed to pressure people to do drugs, Missy,” she grumbles, but to Melissa’s extreme pleasure, she snatches the joint from between her fingers. 

Her eyes snap open when loud coughing interrupts their easy silence. Oh. She’d been too high to remember that Dana’s never smoked weed before. Oops. 

“That’s horrible,” Dana cries out around a weak cough. Melissa rubs her back and grins apologetically. 

“It is if you try to suck it like a straw.” She takes the joint out of Dana’s hand and goes to demonstrate, pinching it neatly between her fingers and sucking in easy. “See,” she says through the haze of smoke leaving her mouth. “Hold it in a little and exhale. Slowly.” Ever the quick learner, the prim teenager takes a steady drag and lets it sit before exhaling in a hesitant stream. 

Melissa barely has the chance to put it back in her mouth before her sister is doubled over in high pitched giggles. She rolls her eyes. Every first timer is this annoying, without fail, laughing like mad and voicing any and all slightly out-of-the-box idea they’ve ever had before the THC even kicks in. She typically goes quiet, likes how loose her muscles get, likes the way the sun gets a little brighter and the air covers her like a blanket. Sometimes she’ll read the same sentence over and over again and marvel at how it feels different every time. But Dana’s going to be a talker, even after the first time jitters. She can just tell those things. 

She is proven right after some time and her sister’s second hit. “I can’t believe I’m doing drugs in daddy’s house. In Ahab’s house.” Collapsing beside Melissa and spreading out like a starfish, she sighs wistfully. “Daddy’s so mean, Melissa. He’s so mean to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Melissa asks sharply, annoyed. “You’re clearly the favorite, Starbuck.” 

I’m the favorite? You’re the only one he never yells at.”

No reason to yell at someone you have absolutely no expectations of, Melissa thinks bitterly. Never mind. That’s not why she’s here. “Mom called me, Dana. Last week.” She feels rather than sees her sister freeze up. The movement pulls at the sheets just a little.

“Yeah? What’d she say?” Already so defensive. Oh, Dana…

“Oh, you know,” Melissa says airily. “How are classes going. Are you making mass. Your sister is kissing girls, Melissa, what have you been saying to her?” 

Dana’s voice goes tight and hard, thick with the weed and a little slurred. “It was practice, you know, for boys. All girls do it.”

Melissa says her measured words to the ceiling, not wanting to see the look on her sister’s face. It’ll break her heart, and she always feels too much when she’s stoned. It’s why she listens to R&B and goes to art museums when she’s this high, that extremely human need to feel all things painful and beautiful all at once. But not now. This isn’t about her. 

“Normally, when you practice,” she starts slow, patient. “You keep your shirt on.” 

“I like boys,” Dana says firmly. In control and resolute. Sometimes her younger sister is so kickass it makes her want to punch a man in solidarity. “I like Marcus. I want him to feel me up.” 

“I believe that, Dana, I do.” Melissa rolls on her side and pets Dana’s unruly red hair, teased to hell and full of tangles. She suppresses a smile. “I just want to say–”

“Missy, stop it. There’s nothing for anyone to worry about.”

“I want to say that whatever you’re feeling is okay. I was just thinking earlier. About God. You know, God doesn’t want us to do a lot of things. And it’s impossible to remember all the stuff we’re supposed to stay away from.” Maybe Melissa judged herself wrong, she can be a talker too. “I don’t buy the idea that we’re supposed to just follow this arbitrary list of… rules and hope we’re granted eternal life in return. It depresses me to think life is that simple. Doesn’t it depress you?”

“Rules and order aren’t depressing,” Dana says seriously. It’s not upsetting because Melissa knows that’s Dana talking, not their father, not Bill Jr. “I mean… they’re necessary. And sometimes it’s necessary to break them. But we still need to have them because I think we… come to be comforted by them. And I think our need for order is what separates us from other species.”

“That’s deep, Dana,” Melissa says. She wants to look at the ceiling for hours and keep talking like this. 

“Or maybe it’s the one thing that keeps all of life connected,” Dana contemplates. “You know, laws of the jungle. Predator chases prey, prey runs from predator. It’s innate. It’s gut instinct. Maybe we rely on it so much because… it’s just there. Some vestigial thought organ we’re slowly growing out of. We just learned about that in A.P. Bio.” 

“I’m going to take you Penn with me, Dana. My friends are going to get a kick out of you.”

“Her name is Valeria,” Dana says suddenly. “She’s very tall. I met her in Youth Group. I thought she was really strange because she kept bringing up all of these literary references during bible study that pissed off Father Manuel. She had me read this book, The Monk, and it’s about an ascetic’s fall from grace and… I didn’t like it, really, not because it was sacrilegious but because I didn’t like the writing style. It’s obscenely melodramatic. We started arguing about it and…”

“And you like her.”

Very shyly, “Yeah. I do. I was really sad when her parents took her out of the church.” Then brightening up: “But Marcus finally asked me out after I got my braces removed. He’s going to take me to prom. I like him a lot, Melissa. He’s funny and he’s the only boy in my class with abs.” 

Melissa struggles to hold her laugh in. Her sister sure is a lightweight. “That’s very important.” 

“Not really, not in the grand scheme of things, but he’ll look good in a tux.” Dana lolls her head over and watches Melissa tap the ash into a little bowl. “Give me some more.”

“You’re lucky you’re my sister, Dana,” Melissa grumbles good naturedly, passing her the joint. “Normally I make people cough up money when I get them this high. Right about the time they start talking about vestigial organs.”

“I’ll talk about vestigial organs any day.” Joint in one hand, she tugs at Melissa’s ear with the other. “Darwin’s tubercle. You have it.”

“I know what Darwin’s tubercle is, I’m an anthropology major.” 

“Explains where you get all the weed.” 

“Not nice.” 

“What do you want to do with that?” Dana asks, genuinely curious. Melissa has watched her perfect posture slip away, and this might be the only time her sister could ever be described as languorous. “What do people even do with that?” And a little less worried with her manners, too. 

“Well, I’m working on my bachelor’s at Penn State. I think I’ll stay there for graduate school, too, just to save money.” Daddy’s not paying for my school, Dana. “But…”

“Yes?” her sister urges. 

“GWU has a really great doctoral program. I think… that’s what I want to do. There’s a need for more female anthropologists,” she says in a rush. She hasn’t told anyone in her family this, only her college friends and her on-again off-again boyfriend who says he’s studying abroad this but is probably doing magic mushrooms in Amsterdam. “Male ones don’t always get access to study women in certain societies… and that’s part of the reason why we say things like mankind, refer to any kind of peace as brotherhood, or fraternity. We know so little about women.” She’s blabbering but she means it. It’s what she wants to do. Her sister is the only one whose opinion she cares about in this house. Maybe at all.

“We’ll both be doctors then,” Dana says softly. “That’s really cool.” A word Melissa has never heard her say. “Washington D.C., huh? I like D.C.” 

“There are so many museums,” Melissa agrees. “And the music scene is awesome, Dana, we have to go together sometime.”

“D.C.” Dana repeats. “Maybe I’ll go there too, and we’ll live by each other.” 

Melissa smiles at her, at her droopy eyes and molten body. “How are you feeling?”

“My mouth hurts… and I feel like I haven’t eaten in ten years.” 

“Let’s go get pizza at that spot right outside the base. Trust me, being out in the sun feels amazing.” As they leap off the bed, Melissa frowns and sniffs the air. “I’m going to open a window. Do you still have that Summer Seduction crap?”

You’re a Pipe Dream, Part 3

*A Smoke Shop/Hippie AU (trigger warning for abuse) Now on AO3

It took all of Andrew’s considerable self-control to wait while the cashier rang him up and bagged the liquor. He wasn’t thinking rationally. His brain had connected the man and Rain, the bruise and the fist, and now the rest of him was itching to deliver some payback. He felt reckless and violent, like he had felt when he had beaten the men who had assaulted Nicky. The drugs in his system were doing little to inhibit his aggression and that was a problem. It was all one big fucking problem because if he lost it here he could lose everything. Would Wymack give him another chance? Would he be allowed to?

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Lie to your boyfriend V

Imagine you’re dating an uptight business man but you’re in love with Happy. 

Originally posted by samcro-redwoodoriginals

“She started getting sick after Ron died…” You said in the tiniest voice ever, while you held your breath in your lungs, as Happy rolled a chubby next to you. You slowly let the cannabis air leave your body while it became incredibly lighter, your worries going away with the smoke. Happy was next to you too, his eyes slightly red as he coughed slightly, saving the chubby for later and taking the joint from your hands. 

“Mum was sick since the second I can remember.” He said, staring up at the sky. After the unusual question you didn’t heard since college, Happy grabbed your arm and you both walked up to the hospitals roof top. It was quiet and cold, like the most lovely Christmas nights as the starts looked like Christmas lights hanging from the sky. You nodded, your head feeling extremely well now. Weed on a rooftop. How teenager was that?  “Look…” Happy said. “They’re doing great.” You nodded, to look like you were believing him, but you knew that wasn’t the case. 


“I’m not sweet talking.” He said taking a hit making you giggle slightly. “What?”

“I don’t think you could sweet talk even if you wanted too.” He licked his lips and smirked looking down.

“Anyway.” He said looking at you. “Your mom is gonna be alright. She’s strong.” You nodded at his words. “Just..doctors are assholes, more in this hospital, they want to keep them here to suck more money.” He shrugged. “The would be running and tap dancing if they wanted to, health related.” 

Happy was nice. Maybe it was because his weed was dank yet sweet, or because he was nice enough to take care of your tears, his way, of course, but he was nice, again, his own kind of nice. The “weed on a rooftop” kind of nice and it worked, because a few smokes and small talks was all you needed. Maybe you needed to stop being an ass to him. Just maybe…

“Happy…” You said licking your lips and looking at him, he lifted his eyebrows and blew the smoke away from your face as he looked back at you, waiting for whatever you were going to say.  You wanted to say you were sorry for being such a bitch to him, for disrespecting in front of his mom, and you wanted to offer him your friendship. You could smell him from where you were sitting, the weed and the tobacco, the sweat, and faint cherry bubble gum. He smelled manly, capable, dangerous. 

“What?” He broke the silence. You looked down at his lips, full, a little dry, he seemed a good kisser as well. Were you about to find out? You leaned closer and closed, him getting the hint the first second you did, he leaned against you, his pipe breaking under his hand and you were just centimeters away when your phone went off, making you curse under your breath and break away from the moment.

From: K babe 

I’m home! 

You sighed as you replied, Happy already up and fixing his pants, staring down at the hospitals parking lot, his Dyna, and when staring into the horizon, the city lights and how tiny and beautiful everything looked. 

To: K babe 

Sorry. Didn’t realized the time. I have a ride home, don’t worry. One of my mom’s friend is riding me.  I love you :) xx 

There was no reply after that. You looked at Happy and coughed to call his attention. He turned around and looked at you. “You give me a ride home?” 

“So, you’re telling me…” he said as you still didn’t opened your eyes. “(Y/N).”

“No, alright?”

“You’re a…” You heard him scoff. “How come you’re this old and never got on a bike before?” You denied, your cheek pressed to his back as you held your eyes tight. “You’re not scared, are you?” He asked you.

“I’m dying back here, Happy.” You heard his laugh and you could feel it too, by the vibrations of his back. He was supposed to give you a ride to your hotel but you decided to just grab your backpack and let him drive you straight home since Kaden was already there. 

“We haven’t moved an inch.” His raspy voice said as he started the motor, making you yell in panic as he moved slightly. “(Y/N), shut up.” He said in a hush. 

“I’m sorry.” You said as he turned around slightly and looked at you over his shoulder. Your knuckles were white from holding on so tight on him and it didn’t helped that you were supposed to be quiet around the hospital. “I’m nervous…” 

“Really? Not even once?” You understood he couldn’t believe it. After all, your dad was a biker. You shook your head and fixed your hair under the helmet. 

“Just…” You looked at the ground and shook your head, the memories hurting. “Just once, with a High school boyfriend but it was horrible, we barely crash.” Happy sighed and looked around. You knew the Sons did it fast, riding, that is. 

“Look…” Happy said. “I’ll go slow.”

“Local parade slow?” you asked him as he smiled a bit warmly and nodded, taking a sigh. 

“Local parade slow.” He said as he started the bike away, going slow, really slow. 

“This is it?” Happy asked, sleepy eyes as he pulled over in the front of your house. 

“Yeah…” you said, seeing the darkest hour of the night. It was 4:00 AM when you reached your house, because of your instructions of going really slow. “This is me.” Happy nodded, grabbing your bags and starting to walk to the door. “No.” You said holding the strap of your backpack. “I’ll get it.”

Happy arched an eyebrow and nodded. “I understand.” He said once you two were on the stairs of the front porch. “Junior is home, right?”

“His name is Kaden.”

“Kaden can suck my dick.”

You frowned and slapped his chest slightly. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough.” He eyed you up and down. You rolled your eyes and went to reach for your keys when Happy leaned closer.



“No…” You whispered not so sure of yourself. He had you against the frame of your door, your bags at your feet, your breaths mixing, four red eyes staring at each other and a tingle sensation on the pit of your stomach. Nothing Kaden ever made you feel. Inches apart, your ear was trained enough to hear your boyfriend’s steps, giving you enough time to push Happy away before a pajamas Kaden opened the door. 

“What the fuck.” Happy whispered before hitting the opposite side of the frame, looking at your boyfriend in the door. 

He looked in between you and Happy. “Jesus, (Y/N) it’s 4:00 AM. I have cross fit at 6.” This made Happy roll his eyes on the low, as you hugged yourself. 

“Sorry, Kaden.” You said grabbing your bags from the floor and aiming to get in. “Thank you.” 

Happy nodded and Kaden looked at him up and down, not being able to hide his disgust mixed with fear. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” Happy busted at him, making Kaden snap his eyes and look at him. 

“Well hello, my  friend. I’m Kaden Pratt.” Kaden said in the most posh accent he could pull out. You scrunched your nose and looked at him. “Hey, listen, thank you for riding my girlfriend home, you must be Therese’s friend.” Happy’s jaw was not twitching and you were sure he was gathering all his strength not to push Kaden’s face in. “How much do I own you? I’ll tip you real good, you could use it” You gasped slightly at the rudeness of Kaden’s voice.

“I don’t want your money, asshole…” Happy said in front of him. They were about the same age, but it really did seemed a Chihuahua in front of a pit bull. 

“Watch your language…” Kaden said. 

You were in the middle of all when it happened. The beginning of the storm when Happy smirked at your boyfriend and said, in the deep, raspy voice.

“I’m not afraid of you, Junior.”

You knew Kaden was worked up. He was a man and he had pride after all. You hugged him by the waist as he looked down at you, while Happy kept looking at him. “Kaden…go inside. I’ll…send Happy on his way, okay?” This time the Tacoma killer looked at you as he crossed his arms on his chest and licked his lips. Kaden scoffed and nodded, walking inside not before ripping a loud, wet, not safe for work kiss from you, just in front of Happy’s nose. 

Once he was inside you look at Happy, arched eyebrow as your death cold stare made him scoff at you.  “God…” He said. “Your boyfriend’s such a fucking pussy.”

“He’s not. He thinks with his brains, not his muscles.”

“Because he doesn’t has any.” Happy said, making you shake your head. “You don’t seem really excited to see him. You looked better riding a bike, bitch riding with me.” He said lifting his spare helmet on his hands.

You scoffed and laughed sarcastically. “I would never date a Son.” You said bitterly, as you looked into his eyes. He wasn’t hurt. He was…something else. And it was always dangerous, the unknown. 

“You wouldn’t?” He said lifting an eyebrow. “Cause it didn’t seemed like that a few minutes ago, when I was about to kiss you…” 

You blush a dark shade of red and pick up your bags, aiming for the door. “Your ideas, Happy.” You said, one foot in. “Thank you.” Finally, you entered the house, as you watched him smirk and a few minutes later, you heard the roar of his bike. 

That night, Kaden was very insistent on having sex. As he kissed down your spine, you could feel his soft hands, wishing they could be rougher, calloused. His plain skin? Now you wished it could be inked up, olive, hurted, scarred. You suddenly wanted for him to shave his head and get a tattoo inked up there.

And when you moaned his name, you were thinking of another one.