rolls around in shame

drabble; meltwater

drabble; pg-13; MSR; post-ep Milagro; Mulder maybe believes Padgett got one thing right about Scully. Sequel to climate change and global warming.

series list

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I’ve convinced myself, by the time we’ve washed the blood from our skin and I’m swaddled in a baseball jersey and he’s asked me for the tenth or fiftieth time to let him take me to the hospital, that Philip Padgett simply met me at a damn good time.

I can spend the rest of my life in fear of my own lack of foresight, of appropriate caution, or I can admit to myself I’d been vulnerable for a singular moment. Not caught or entrapped or made into somebody’s plaything, but vulnerable like anyone might be, something I have been working on, slowly, like one might approach their fear of heights by climbing the stairs. I fell for his ruse. I wrapped myself around Mulder like a vine, made him pick me from the ground like a sprouted grain to be repotted.

And it’s okay.

Mulder simply looks at me like he knows something he didn’t before, and it’s alarmingly similar to Padgett’s unceasing gaze. Maybe that’s where the magic had been, the allure. Even now I can’t decide how much he’d really known and how much he just hoped. But what mattered was that he wanted to know me – had written pages and pages about this need of his, and in the fashion of all writers he had only let me see the best parts.

Mulder wants me to read the rest. I won’t. I won’t do it. I’m just not like him, I can’t roll around in shame and darkness and expect the anger to keep me alive.

Still Mulder stares from the other side of the couch. I do not let myself consider what he thinks he knows about me. I feel it will be unkind.

“We need to take my statement down,” I say finally, reaching over to boot up the laptop sitting on the coffee table. The pressure in my chest builds and suddenly I’m out of breath. I feel trapped, a body looms over me, his fingers are freezing they are so cold and calloused and they curl around my racing heart in come-hither sweetness…

Fingers. Warm, gentle, uncertain. They curl around my wrist reaching for the table and it drops between us like a bowling ball.

“The report can wait, Scully,” he says.

It’s hard to realize how much faith I’d lost in him. The trust is there, innately, trust for him to save my life and tell me the truth. But I’m waiting for his jokey cruelty, the clench of his jaw, the flash of a camera so that he may commemorate this moment forever and slip it into the files like a blue ribbon.

None of this happens. His fingers tickle my wrist. His face is so tender it’s difficult to look at and I have to fight back nervous laughter. I kissed him once and that was the face he made in return and I still don’t know what it means now and what it meant then.

He reaches over the great couch divide and grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I try to unlock them, shake him off and tell him no, but he tightens his grip and warns me simply with a firm, low utterance of my name.

We get my statement down, and he doesn’t drive me to the hospital. He asks me to come into work on a Saturday morning and it’s the first time I’m happy to see him in months.

Since it’s possible to plant grass inside the JojaMart, how would Morris, Shane, and Sam react to walking into work and finding the place completely overgrown (with the possible realization that the farmer probably had something to do with it)? (delete from all)

“And, Shane, don’t forget to restock the bread isle, alright?” Morris asked over his shoulder as he fiddled with the keys to the front door. Shane grumbled in response but nodded obligatorily. Finally, Morris found the right key and swung the door open to begin the day, but he froze the moment his eyes met the floor of the establishment.

“I– what!?” Was all he could really stammer out as his glasses nearly fell off his face.

“What?” Sam craned his neck to see over Morris’s shoulder and gasped loudly when he found the entire floor covered with overgrown grass and weeds. Tiny flowers had even somehow sprouted up! Sam practically crumpled to the floor outside of the store in laughter, clutching his sides as if it would help keep in the fits of laughter.

Morris turned away from the store and began to angrily fumble through his pockets for his keys again. Shane cocked an eyebrow at both of them and peered into the store. He only cracked a grin but he was secretly holding back a cackle that would almost put Sam’s to shame, even though he was now rolling around on the ground.

“This is all that farmer’s fault!” Morris practically screamed into the air as he jerked the keys back from his pocket. “I’m so sick of all their meddling!” He practically kicked Sam out of the way to pull the doors shut again and he jammed the key in again and locked it up. “Sam! Stop laughing right now or you’re fired!”

Sam let out a few more cackles then wiped the tears from his eyes before sitting up. “Sorry, sir,” he chided and stood. “Want me to go talk to them?”

Morris growled and crossed his arms, tilting his face to the ground and closing his eyes in thought. Finally, he replied, “No. The legal department wouldn’t like it. We obviously have no proof.” He uncrossed his arms again and stomped his foot hard, but it did nothing to knock the anger out of him. He let out a loud bellow of frustration and turned to his workers again. “Go get everything you need to kill and clip all this grass. You two are going to make this place spotless again, got it!?”

Shane knew better than to protest but Sam let out a loud whine. “Yes, sir.” They both agreed.

Imagine Kris spilling water everywhere while trying to fill his pot up to make pasta. “Oh no,” he whimpers in horror at his now-damp floor. “Oh, god.” He lies down in the puddle, rolling around in shame. “Oh lord!” he shouts between sobs in his wet clothes, “please forgive my transgression!”

His downstairs neighbors, hearing the thumping and crying, wonder what happened this time.

Time

“Look at me!” You yell angrily as Kihyun is walking away from you, head hanging low. He stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn to look at you. Fed up with how he’s been acting lately you grab him by the arm. He turns slowly to look at you, though his eyes stray from yours. You drop your hand from his arm, no longer possessing the energy you had before he had arrived at your apartment.

“What more do you want from me?” You ask suddenly whispering in a hoarse voice, “I thought you liked me? I thought you wanted me in your life?”

“I don’t know if I can do this any more,” Kihyun finally looks you in the eyes to find tears had pooled up just above the waterline, “I mean…,” he struggles to speak in full sentences, “I don’t know if I can do this to you any more.”

“W-what do you mean?” You fight back against the tears that are threatening to come.

“What kind of relationship is this?” He throws his hands up gesturing at the two of you, a sharp pain shoots through your chest at this, “I can’t even take you out on a proper date. I can’t see you outside of this damn dorm. Half the time I’m too busy with my schedule to see you and when I’m not you’re too busy going to class or studying,” You realize then why he had been trying to push you away for the last week, “Is this really what you want?” When he is done ranting to you, you grab Kihyun by the hand and lead him back to your couch. Once he’s sitting you look him straight in his beautiful chocolate brown eyes,

“Don’t you think if I was dissatisfied with this relationship I would have said something?” He shrugs at the question, “Look, ever since we met we’ve been best friends, and deep down inside I always knew I wanted that to be more. When you asked me to be your girlfriend I felt like the happiest girl in the world. Everyday that I get to see you, though it may be seldom, it feels like the first time we met. I don’t need to be paraded around to be happy with you Kihyun ‘cause I’m just happy that you’re mine and I’m yours. And honestly…” You pause, getting nervous all of a sudden, “honestly, I think I’m falling in love with you, oppa.” You finish the sentence in a hurry, apprehensive of what he might say.

“You love me?” Kihyun asks you slowly, as if he was rolling the words around in his mouth enjoying the taste, “It’s a shame though…” You look at him suddenly from staring intently at your hands. Hurt is creeping up inside of you and you struggle to keep the tears at bay again.

“W-what’s a shame?” Not really wanting to know the answer but you ask anyway.

“I think I should have been the first one to say it,” you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relieved at his words. He has that gorgeous dimpled smile on his face again as he continues to talk, “But I guess this’ll have to do,” Kihyun grabs both of your hands in his, getting serious again without warning, “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry if I upset you, I never intended on it.” You cringe outwardly at what a cheese ball he can be sometimes and laugh at the abrupt change in his voice. He looks at you wounded by your laughter, pouting his plump lips at you.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how cheesy you are,” You smile up at him innocently, “But you’re my cheesy cheese ball.” He giggles at your words and pulls you closer to him. He reaches around your waist, leading you closer to him. Soon, both of your lips are an inch apart but before he moves in to kiss you he says,

“And I will be your cheese ball for as long as you want to keep me around.” You fill the space between you two at that and finally taste what you’ve been waiting for this whole time. Kihyun’s lips respond to yours instantly. He holds you tighter around the waist as he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss. You wish you could stay like this forever, you in his arms him in yours, but your room mate shows up then cutting your moment short. Kihyun looks at you disappointed and you respond by caressing the side of his face slowly, looking apologetically at him.

“Sorry, was I interrupting something important?” Your room mate asks with a huge knowing smirk on her face. 

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Do yourself a favor and block badrpersofwyrmrestus to eradicate them from your blogging experience.

Open rp

The day was already preparing for the coming of the night, the sun celebrating the past day by painting the horizon with the rich colors of red, orange and yellow. I almost felt like the spirit of summer had come for a brief visit, as if to remind people that it was still alive and well. It was on an evening like this when a certain blonde woman had decided to go and do some shopping. Empty fridge wasn’t a pleasing sight, after all. 

With a lazy, tired gaunt the woman slowly progressed towards her home. The two grocery bags full of food were surprisingly heavy. After a few breaks, the woman continued again. It wasn’t but two steps after that she heard a disgusting creaking sound coming from one of her ankles “HYA?!” Nothing she could do would save her anymore. Her entire body smashed against the ground, her groceries rolling around like frantic horses. The shame on the woman’s face was almost as bad as the pain her leg felt. She’d definitely need help…