unnerve me

3

Again, an AU where Chrom gets a brief short-term memory loss.

I’ve done this scene many times and it’s still giving me trash ideas like this but I couldn’t help it lmao.

It’s half a year away but I’m calling it now:
Jack said that it’ll be a long time before we see Anti again and even teased that he may not come back at all.
That last part unnerves me because it’s perfect for the following scenario:


October rolls around. Jack does what he does best: games, vlogs and skits. The fans wait with excited anticipation, October means Anti’s return. The first week there’s nothing, same with the second and third week. No glitches, no sign of Jack feeling unwell or doing anything out of the ordinary. Fans are getting twitchy. The last week surely would see Anti return. Theories are running rampant, art work of Anti increases, people are outright calling for Anti and tag is flooded with his name.
Fans are practically begging to see Anti as Halloween comes. Someone invents a tag #BringOutAnti. It trends on twitter and tumblr. The first video comes out, Jack looks like he’s panicking and scared for his life. He’s pleading with the viewers to stop mentioning Anti. Then it cuts to black as he falls out of shot. There’s pained groans and one more desperate whimper to stop. We hear static and we’re left with a high pitched cackle and zalgo text:

T̵̨͓͉̝̯̭̰̜͉̥́͋̆͑̓̽͒̑̔͠h̴͙͙̖̦̰͉̰̩̪̺̅̈́́̄̉͌͛̃́͠i̶̲̞̜͓͎̖̰͙̠͇̔̂͋̽͗̍̀͝͝͠s̵͇̣̖̖̱̪̝͈̘̥͂̈̽̉̍͑́͐̚̕ ̷̖̥͔͕̼͍̞͚̥̦͋͒̈́̃̅̑̈̌͐̽i̶̛̪̘̙̟̣͙̰̳͉̗̋̍̓̑͒̀̾̚͝ş̴̲͎͉̲͖̲̰̬̜̃͂̀̎͒͊̉̕͘͝ ̸̛̹̬̠̭̘̝̖͓̤̓̈̔̂̋̏̾͊́ͅw̶̡̤̳̦̫̬̭̝̾̈́̑̐͌̉͆̍̇̾ͅͅh̵̘̗̘̭͖̩͕̭͔͔͐͂͛̅̈́̌̽̏̄͘a̴̛̛̫̟̥̪̖̖̬̲̼͍̿̈́̈́̍̾̅̅͠ţ̶̛͇̗͓͔͍͎̗̞͖̏͐̈́̀̏͆̉͘͠ ̶̥̟͓̫̰̣̦̺̤̅̒̇͊̒̂̽͠͝͠ͅy̴̢̗̮̯̲̖̝̻̝̯͌͐͑́̈̋̊͗͋̒ȍ̴̢̹̟͖̻̩̗͇̺̃̀̏̂̂̓͑͐͝ͅư̵͙̮͇͓̻̭̜̩̲̜̋̒͑̿́̊̀̑͝ ̷̧̡̛̬̯̪̠͍͔͖͍͛́̄͊̋̽̂̌͝w̵̨͚͔͉̲̻̤̗̘̓̃͛̊̓̒́́̿̚͜ā̵̡̡͙̝̱͓̼͔̝͓̆̓̆̄͗̿͛͋͘n̴̨̢̢̰͓̰̙̥̻͈͆̉́̔͗̅̇̈́̌͝t̶̡̢̨̪͓̻͖̦͇̻̊́̏̄̿̈́͑̚͝ẹ̴̡̨̛̛̫̺̺͚̗͎̄̍̃̋̌͒̆̌ͅd̷̝͈̼͓̝̳̭̥̓̀̿͗̍̾̑̿̐̑͜ͅ

This is then followed by a insurmountable amount of panic by the fan base which is fuelled even more by a late video. When it does appear it’s just Anti taunting the viewers for a couple of minutes telling us how he gained an unbelievable amount of strength by our constant mentions of him all through the month and how his grip on Jack is so strong that the Irishman doesn’t stand a chance of getting his body back


BRUH
IT WOULD MAKE SENSE IF HE DID THIS

He’d have to think of SOME WAY to outdo his previous ideas and beat the PAX takeover. What better way than for Jack to outright tell us to stop because he’s afraid?

The Broken & the Healing {NESSIAN Oneshot}

Wrote this on a whim, there was not a lot of planning involved. I sat down to write an essay for economics, and this flowed out instead.

Cassian’s POV. Little smut. Lots of sass. 

I hope you enjoy!


“Hit me.”

Nesta blinked at my outstretched hands. “This is ridiculous.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her serious, and highly annoyed, expression. “You said you wanted me to train you. I’m training you. You are a beginner. I am your instructor. Do as I say.”

Her lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”

“Nesta. Hit.”

She rolled her eyes, flinging out her hand, her palm hitting mine.

“What, are you giving me a high five?” I raised my eyebrows.

She bared her teeth, sending a chill down my spine. Not from terror, but from something far more animalistic. 

I remembered who I was dealing with.

“Try, Nesta,” I ordered, pushing aside the images that had popped into my mind. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, but I know you can do a hell of a lot better than that.”

I thought of her during the war, when she saved me, when she protected me. When she fought by my side as my equal in battle. When I thought her face would be the last one that I’d see before eternity swept me away.

She gave me a look that said I am perfect, but kept her mouth shut as she made a second attempt.

I chuckled. “You hit like a girl.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she yelled, frustrated, throwing her arms in the air. “I have seen Mor, Amren, and Feyre all give you serious bruises. And, yes, I was there when Amren knocked you on your ass last week.”

Keep reading

This not-so-short-anymore story is dedicated to @charminglyantiquated and her magnificent @elsewhereuniversity comic which has exploded all over my brain.

Read chapter two here!

Nobody ever parks in Lot C after dark.

It’s not because of the Beast. It’s because Lot C is in the very back of campus, way too far from Everything of Importance. You’d have to walk a quarter mile before you reached anywhere that sells coffee, almost a mile to the library. The nearest structure is a low sprawl of administrative buildings, but even they don’t park in Lot C after dark. They come to work early, and leave before sunset.

It was a bitch to get my meal card replaced when I’d lost it. They kept shutting down that stretch of slumped old admin offices before I’d finished with my afternoon Physics Lab. My lab partner would laugh at me.

“You’ll have to eat out of the trash again. Poor Moonie. Soon enough you’ll turn into a raccoon,” she would coo at me, an unattractive smirk wrinkling her nose.

I didn’t like the way she said it. I didn’t like a lot of things she said. Sometimes I felt like she wished bad things to happen to me, just so she could snicker at my misfortune. I think it was her smile that did it. Whenever she smiled, I got the feeling she knew something that I didn’t. She liked it that way.

I didn’t mind it too much. The one thing she didn’t know was Physics.

Keep reading

6

Can we just talk about the Phantom’s breakdown expressions for a moment


They’re perfect squares so if you had the strange inclination to make one your avatar or something, you can!

lostuntothisworld  asked:

a while back you recommended the movie Autopsy of Jane Doe and it was fantastic! Do you have any more horror movie recs that are psychological like that (with minimal jump scares preferably?)

omg yesssssssss, i sure as heck do. i looooooove recommending horror movies. kay, here we go, pychological, disturbing, and minimal jump scares: 

1. Get Out (2017) - this is a newer movie, and I’m sure you’ve heard about it (and maybe even seen it already). I finally got to see it in theaters and it was marvelous. Very tense horror, minimal jump scares. Definitely recommend it if you haven’t seen it yet. 

2. The Thing (1982) - this is probably my favorite horror movie, and one I will always, always recommend to people. It’s more sci-fi/horror, but horror none the less. This is a movie that feeds on uncertainty and tension, fueled by distrust and paranoia between the characters. (There was also a prequel to this movie made in 2011, and I certainly enjoyed that one as well, but it still couldn’t quite deliver the same chills and fear the 1982 version did.) 

3. They Look Like People (2015) - this is another one that I just watched recently. Probably one of the best that fits the category of psychological horror. It’s a bit slow to start, but develops into a story that will leave you tense, unsure, and unsettled. Plus, it’s probably the only horror movie I have ever seen that manages to highlight mental illness without demonizing it. 

4. As Above So Below (2014) - this is a movie that honestly, I was very skeptical about seeing. It’s a found footage movie (which I typically hate), and it got very poor reviews, but I wound up watching it on a whim one day and found myself enjoying it a lot more than I expected. It honestly is more of a adventure/horror film rather than a strict horror film - and the reviews might have been better, I think, if its marketing hadn’t painted it as a strict horror film. There are a few jump scares in there, but not a whole lot. Much the movie relies on claustrophobia, confusion, and mystery. It’s really an interesting look at a journey into hell. I greatly enjoy it, though your mileage may vary. 

5. Event Horizon (1997) - another sci-fi/horror film. A nightmarish movie about salvage/rescue crew that goes out to salvage a ship that vanished on its maiden voyage and reappeared 7 years later missing its entire crew. This movie deals well in suspense, fear, and our ultimate terror of what evils could lie beyond the unknown. 

6. The Descent (2005) - yet another movie I recommend to everyone. Set underground in an unknown cave system, and led by an all female cast, this movie is just full of anxiety, paranoia, claustrophobia, and unease. It’ll certainly make you never want to go caving. 

7. The Strangers (2008) - a great take on the classic home invasion/slasher film. It boasts a really creepy atmosphere, an isolated setting, and has moments of genuine, realistic anxiety and terror (even the small things, like trying to find somewhere to hide and realizing you can’t fit, etc…) I saw this movie with my best friend back when it first came out, and it’s still one of my favorites.

8. The Others (2001) - this is not your typical ghost story. Honestly this one is hard to describe because I don’t want to give too much away about the plot. In the last few days of World War II, a woman and her two children wait in isolation, after the mysterious disappearance of their servants, for her husband/their father to return from the war. It’s only in the isolation of the house that they begin to realize the house might not be as empty as they thought it was. Very, very unique take on a ghost story. The case is wonderful, and the pacing and setting of this movie creates wonderfully creepy, unsettling fear. 

9. The Witch (2016) - slow-burn horror and very setting specific, this one’s focus is on religious fear and the sexual stigmatization of girls and women. It’s slow-paced, but really great at building up a sense of unease and dread, and even the small things in it, like small rabbits in the wild, can make you feel unsettled. 

10. Black Swan (2010) - not strictly a horror movie, this one is heavily psychological, and I almost want to cast it as a thriller more than anything, but some of it truly does fall into the realm of psychological horror. Paranoia, obsession, and tension, this movie is chock-full of it. 

11. Funny Games (2007) - this one is actually a remake of a 1997 movie of the same name. I feel kind of bad, but I actually haven’t seen the original, but from what I hear, the two movies don’t differ much. This one is particularly unsettling because of its constant underlying feeling of authenticity. Much like The Strangers, this feels real, like it could happen to anyone, like its psychopaths could be anybody, any well-to-do strangers. It’s a long, sometimes unbearably frustrating game of physical and psychological torture; and the few moments of well-timed 4th wall breaking really up the frustration and distress. 

12. 1408 (2007) - based on a Stephen King story, this film heavily relies on psychological and anxiety-building elements to create its tension. Every thing that happens in this room makes you question what it will do next, what trick will it pull, what hopes will it dash. There’s not much else to say about this one exept that… “It’s an evil fucking room.” 

13. El Orfanato/The Orphanage (2007) - man this one is definitely a favorite of mine. Very unnerving and deeply emotional at the same time, this one is a very well-crafted and clever take on the haunted house/orphanage trope. It’s spooky, chilling, has some moments that will genuinely crawl under your skin (the 1-2-3 toca la pared scene always does it for me…), and features a wildly emotional ending. 

14. The Babadook (2014) - this one doesn’t rely on cheap scares at all, but still features some truly creepy and unnerving moments that left me on edge. But in addition to that, this movie is about so much more than a boogeyman lurking in the shadows. Heavily psychological, this movie delves deeply into how we process loss and deal with all-consuming grief. 

15. 28 Days Later (2002) - I probably don’t need to say much about this one. It’s a movie that most people have either seen or have at least heard of. But there’s a reason it’s consistently named one of the best zombie movies around. It deals with not only the horror of the zombies (and they certainly make that aspect scary on its own), but also the darkest aspects of the fall of society. We’re given a frighteningly grim look at the degradation of humanity and the darkest aspects of human nature as society falls apart. 

15 seems like enough! And hopefully you’ll like some of those!! :D 

(also, for those reading this, please watch Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016) cause it’s amazing)

“The way Aloha, Scooby-Doo!’s script handles the first clash with the monsters is... interesting.”

Carl the Animator: “Why? Something wrong with it?”

Ted the Animator: “It just throws the monsters out randomly, right at the beginning! There’s no buildup, no tension… I mean, just compare it to the original Scooby-Doo episodes.”

Carl the Animator: “Oh c’mon, they were hardly screenwriting masterpieces themselves.”

Ted the Animator: “Well, yeah, sure… I’m not saying the structures were genius works of fine art or anything, but they worked. They were simple and cheesy, but understood how to build atmosphere and make things creepy.”

Carl the Animator: “True that… the astronaut skull/ghost/skost episode always unnerved me, even as I drew it.”

Ted the Animator: “…wait, did you just say ‘true that’?”

Carl the Animator: “No.”

Ted the Animator: “…anyway. Where were we?”

Carl the Animator: “Monsters. Scripts. Excitement!”

Ted the Animator: “Right. Those old shows needed to be tame enough to not give kids nightmares, but yet they still knew how to create a nice tension to the story. Proper pacing, an ominous tone, and a creepy buildup are what make y-

Carl the Animator:OOH! Like the second Wallace and Gromit with the robot pants! It super freaked me out as a kid.”

Ted the Animator: “They’re trousers, thank you very much, but that’s actually a great example.”

Carl the Animator: “You know it.”

Ted the Animator: “The antagonist is a freakin’ penguin, but there’s always this captivating sense of forebode as the story builds, and as the audience uncovers the mystery. It never plays its hand too early.”

Carl the Animator: “Well said, Ted–… oh, that rhymed.”

Ted the Animator: “Thanks.”

Carl the Animator: “So… compared to all that, how does Aloha, Scooby-Doo! do the big monster reveal?”

Ted the Animator: “A bunch of characters that we barely know surf a bit, complain… and then the monsters all run at them 3 minutes 17 seconds into the movie.

Carl the Animator: “…oh.”

Ted the Animator: “Yeah.”

Carl the Animator: “Well, then. Great, I was in the middle of animating that scene and hopin’ it was gonna be cool, but I guess not.”

Ted the Animator: “Sorry to burst your proverbial bubble.”

Carl the Animator: “Sheesh. After that, I’m not even gonna bother drawing in the mouth when it jumps at the camera.”

Ted the Animator: “That’s… that’s an odd stand to take, but y’know what? I support you for taking it.”

Carl the Animator: “Thank you, Ted… if we don’t fight for artistic quality in cheap direct-to-DVD kids movies, who will?

Not to be dramatic, but Taylor Swift’s chuckle after “I go on too many dates” in “Shake It Off” was life-changing

do not fear the metal beasts with suns for eyes, only stay away from their well-traveled paths for they do not often stray from them. however if they peel apart to reveal the flesh within, it would be wise to run.

When galaxies collide

AN: I wrote this some time ago and felt like sharing it because it’s not too bad. While reading, please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, so  excuse any possible mistakes.

Baz

The way he looks at me is irritating.

His eyes never seem to leave me. They’re following me through the room, a solid blue wall. Blue as crayons. They’re extraordinarily ordinary.

I try not to let him notice how he unnerves me. I try to ignore him and his stupidly blue eyes. His tawny skin and his unruly curls. Everything about him is golden and so bright that it looks like he belongs in space. Somewhere far away. Definitely not here.


Simon

This boy looks like he belongs to another planet. His skin is an indescribable mixture of reds and browns and it shimmers like pixie dust. His hair is dark and way longer than mine and it falls over his shoulders, framing his face, making it look at least a bit softer. Because his cheekbones are sharp and his eyes are hard and he scowls all the time.

He should make me feel uncomfortable. I should be scared by him.

But I’m not.

He seems to be drawing me in. I can’t stop watching him, how he moves around. He talks to no one and no one talks to him. Does he feel alone? It seems like there are galaxies between me and him.


Baz

I finally know where he belongs. He’s the sun that is missing in the galaxy I call my life. He completes my very own sun-system. He still hasn’t stopped looking at me.

And when I hear people slowly leaving the room, I decide that I should be brave once in my life.


I turn and look at him. Right into his ridiculously blue eyes.

My breath catches and for a moment, he is all that I can see. He’s the centre of my everything. He’s every nice thing I can think of.

But then he looks away and the moment is broken.


Simon

His grey eyes seem to have unsettled something deep inside of me. Something I was afraid do wake, something I never wanted to think about. He’s still holding my gaze and it hurts, looking at his face hurts. It makes me think of how much I want to talk to him, screw his intimidating looks.

So I break the eye-contact.

Then I stand up.

And start to make my way towards him.


Baz

Within seconds he’s in front of me, making my stomach turn. I can’t name the look on his face. Is he angry because I stared at him? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s angry?

But then he interrupts my thoughts by saying: “You don’t talk to anyone.”

It surprises me. It’s not even a question, it’s a simple statement. What am I supposed to answer to this? I don’t want to scare him away, he’s even more beautiful up close.

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

Oh great.


Simon

He spits out a rude answer, but I can’t really blame him, since my question was probably the least eloquent thing I could have said.

“Well,” I stutter, trying to regain my composure. “I just wanted to ask if I could sit with you.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes and I hope that he’ll say yes.


Baz

This boy is going to be the death of me. Now that he’s standing right in front of me, I can see that his face is sprinkled with tiny freckles. There’s an edge of one of his teeth missing, which makes him look way younger. He’s making me feel sick. But the good kind.

He asked if he could sit with me and if I weren’t so absolutely incompatible with human beings, I would have said yes by now. But I still haven’t answered his question and he’s still looking up at me with his blue eyes, chewing on his plump bottom lip.

Before I can think to much about this, I feel my mouth opening.


Simon

“If you insist,” he mumbles and for a moment, I’m worried that he’s irritated by me and is just surrendering because he wants me to stop talking. But then he shoots me a half-smile and it feels like gravity has lost its hold on me.

I smile back at him, already planning to tell Penny all of this as soon as I enter our flat. Although he seemed so far away at first, almost like he lived on another planet, I can’t feel the galaxies dividing us any more. Now we’re circling around each other. As if he’s as focused on me as I am on him.

But then he frowns.


Baz

He beams at me and I can’t help but try to memorize all of his expression, in case I’m not seeing it again. Or at least, not directed at me.

We’re both silent for a moment, standing in the middle of the empty room and staring at each other. Then I remember that I don’t even know his name.

His face falls when I stop smiling and I immediately want to comfort him, tell him that I didn’t change my mind, that I’m just thinking, but I’m not exactly known to be empathic in public.

“What’s your name?”, I ask, cringing internally at how emotionless my voice sounds.

He relaxes, ruffling his curls as his smile returns.

“Simon. Simon Snow.”

Oh well, at least we both have ridiculous names.


Simon

He grins when he hears my name, and I immediately feel self-conscious. My name is one of the things I will never not be embarrassed about.

I have already opened my mouth to say something when he cuts me off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not making fun of you. Would be a bit hypocritical if you consider that my name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. You can call me Baz though.”

I snort, feeling relieved. His name is as extraordinary as he is and even though there’s no way I’m going to remember all of it, I still like it. It sort of fits him.


Baz

My stomach does a somersault when Simon says, “We match, I guess.”.

We do not match, we absolutely don’t. But that doesn’t stop me from trying.

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part VI)

Part VI – “My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder”

Twenty-eight

She didn’t come back after that night – I knew she had gone back to Boston, to take control over her life. I waited. The phone never rang to give me news or an explanation, inexplicably silent even though I was certain she could find the number had she wished to. And I waited. My mailbox was painfully empty every day, while I dreamt of letters touched by her fingers, read aloud by her warm voice. And yet I waited.

I waited because I had no choice – I was meant to wait for her. Our lives were inextricably connected, vessels adrift on the sea with an intended destination written in the stars. I had tried to forget her before, to live pretending I wasn’t waiting – and that had hurt more than the hours I spent awake at night, looking at the spot where she once had laid by my side. But there was that small fraction of time, that heartbeat, just before I opened my eyes in the morning, where everything was possible – and I was happy.

Sometimes I would catch myself checking the weather in Boston, wanting to know if she could see the stars in clear skies – at least I could share that proximity with her. I wondered if she had drank coffee, dark and strong, while her eyes were still half-shut. If she had decided on a specialty yet. That was better than wondering about her marriage – every time I turned my thoughts to Frank, the idea of her being touched by him brought me to a blinding state of anger and fear. I would go outside in those occasions to run, as fast as I could for as long as I was able, until I had fled myself and was somewhat free.

I enjoyed teaching and found great solace in my students, curious and lively little fiends, always looking for trouble. I dedicated myself to the task of keeping their spirits sharp and their curiosity burning.

I had my old friends, with whom I shared whiskey glasses and laughs at the pub – keeping a respectful distance from the place I knew Laoghaire still frequented. They kept me grounded, even with their crudes jokes about my bachelor status. While I was laughing, it was easier to wait – I could almost push Claire to the back of my mind, where she would curl and sleep, satisfied.

Saturday was born in blazing glory, sun shining high in a cloudless sky like a treasure’s coin. I accepted the chance to spend the morning exploring the paths at Arthur’s Seat, pushing myself to the limit. I reached the summit with a delicious pain at each breath intake, the air fresh like crushed mint, filling my chest with the pulse of life.

Back at my apartment, I made plans to shower and spend a lazy afternoon reading and napping on the couch, while I stripped off my sweaty t-shirt, heading towards the bathroom.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

I opened it without thinking twice, expecting perhaps to see Angus or Willie, swinging by to challenge me to watch a rugby match or play a chess game.

Her hair was a bit shorter than the last time I had seen her, framing a face that was slightly flushed from sunlight and anticipation. She was wearing a white sundress and I realized I had been wrong – my memories would never be more than a pale comparison to the woman who stood before me. Her arms were bare, with no visible marks, her flawless skin resembling a painting.

“May I come in?” Claire asked softly, her eyes quickly tracing the lines of my exposed chest before she looked at my face, expectant.

“Of course.” I moved to the side, allowing her in. I brushed my hair with nervous fingers, desperately looking for an old t-shirt to dress. Eventually, I settled for the one I had been wearing, smelling faintly of sweat and crushed leaves.

“I wanted to come sooner.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been in Scotland for a couple of days, but had to take care of some papers to start my surgical residency here and find somewhere to stay permanently.” Claire searched my eyes. “I’m moving back to Scotland.”

“Aye.” I said in a husky voice. “I’m glad to see ye, Claire.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Jamie.” She smiled, more confident. “These past two years, I -“

“Ye dinna have to explain anything to me.” I interrupted, feeling strangely hollow, fighting against anger which came with a sense of relief.

“I think I do.” Claire insisted, stepping closer to me. “I want you to know that I heard you, Jamie. I didn’t want to make promises until I truly meant them. I had to finish school and decide what I really wanted for my life.”

“And did ye?” I croaked, folding my arms in a defensive gesture, pre-emptively shielding myself from bad news.

“Yes.” She whispered. In that moment she reached out with her hand, offering it to me with her palm down – naked. Her wedding ring gone. “I divorced Frank more than a year ago – and never lived with him again after I was here.” Claire searched his eyes. “With you.”

“Then why did ye never wrote or called?” I asked, hurt creeping into my words. “Why did ye waited two years to show up again?”

“I had to be worthy of you.” Claire said simply, twisting her hands – her fingers touching the ghost of the ring that once had been there. “I had to make sure I was coming because it was the right thing – not because I was wrecked. You offered me everything and I wanted to have something to give back.”

“I missed ye.” I admitted in a whisper, as her hand touched my cheek – I closed my eyes, surrendering to her caress. “A Dhia, I thought I’d go mad with the idea of never seeing ye again.”

“I missed you too.” She gasped, her body so close to mine I could feel the swell of her breasts, the compelling heat coming from her skin. “I haven’t realized I could barely breathe until now.”

“Are ye here to stay then?” I asked serious, our eyes locking. We were gently swaying along some music we could both listen, too eager to stand still, too afraid to finally meet in quietness. “Because if ye’re not…”

She silenced me with her trembling fingers, touching my mouth, learning the shape of my lips. I almost moaned with the pleasure of her touch, so sincere and tender.

“I’m here to stay.” Claire assured me, tracing the line of my chin, where stubble prickled. “If you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have ye in any way I can.” I whispered, my voice almost breaking with emotion – and yet, stronger than ever before. “Always.”

“Jamie…” She sighed with a smile, her forehead leaning against mine. “May I kiss you?” I realized she didn’t wish to rob me another kiss, a thief taking something precious, covered in the night’s cloak.

“I thought ye’d never ask.” I gave her a lopsided smile and our lips finally met, a kiss eighteen years in the making, hesitant at first and then all-consuming.

We spent the afternoon discovering each other, laying in the living room’s rug, slowly and languidly displacing clothes in order to kiss another inch of skin, to draw shapes of desire with our fingertips.

I opened the first buttons of her dress, tracing with my tongue the curve of her breasts; she insinuated her hands on my shorts, caressing the fine copper hairs of my thighs. I nuzzled her neck, softly biting her until she moaned, so I could reward her with a soothing flicker of my tongue. She laughed and playfully clawed my back, making sure I too would wear medals of our war, marks of the victor. I marvelled with the roundness of her arse and the feel of her swollen lips, battered with kisses, ever-wanting. I was mightily aroused – that much was evident to us both – and yet I didn’t move to enter her. I didn’t wish to precipitate the voyage we had started together, to hasten something that would come naturally to us, as each one of our meetings through life had. I would finally get a lifetime of her and planned to savour each small conquest.

“Are ye hungry?” I asked eventually, kissing her shoulder. She looked dishevelled and wanton, pure lust and love in the shape of a woman – I’d never seen her more beautiful or desirable.

“I’m starved.” She laughed, nuzzling the hollow of my chest one final time. “Will you feed me then?”

“Ach, I’m too knackered to cook.” I admitted, playing with her curls – already sorely missing her lips on mine. “But there’s a fantastic Mexican place nearby – I’ll buy ye dinner.”

“If you’re planning to intoxicate me with Margaritas,” Claire sat up and started to compose her clothes. “I have to say it’ll probably work like a charm.”

We left the house walking hand in hand, like two loved up teenagers, giggling and teasing each other. I’d pull her against me once in a while to kiss her again, to the general amusement and surprise of people around us. I didn’t know such happiness was possible – I felt my chest so full that no space was left for regret or doubt.

We were talking about plans to spend Sunday together, when we heard the commotion. A loud crash, someone screaming – the air was thick with tension, harder to breathe in. I felt Claire gripping my hand one final time before she let go, prepared to face what was certainly coming around the corner.

A man with a black ski mask emerged from the sizable jewellery store, which had imposing diamond rings and golden necklaces peeking through the window displays. He carried a dark sports bag at his shoulder and in one hand sported a menacing revolver, while the other grabbed a shrieking shopkeeper by the hair. Blood dripped from the side of her head, where she had probably been pistol-whipped, her eyes blank with shock.

An alarm went off inside the store, an unnerving sound that made me shiver, the hairs on my arms erecting in fear.

The robber shouted something – a car was waiting near the curb, another masked man inside it. He forcefully pushed the woman against the sidewalk, her head bumping against the edge with a nauseating sound of crushed eggshells.

I think I screamed, trying to stop Claire from moving – I knew she would go. She had healed me times enough for me to know that she wasn’t capable of witnessing suffering without trying to interfere.

It happened in a second and yet I saw it in slow motion – how she kneeled next to the woman, trying to stabilize her neck, to evaluate her wounds, calling for her with the lips I just had kissed moments before. The man in the ski masked turned and looked at her, laughing at the sight of her unfruitful gestures – she held his gaze in defiance, insulting him with her sharp tongue.

I was already screaming before it happened – I could see it so clearly and yet I was powerless to stop it. The gunshot that announced the ending, loudest even than my heart breaking.

I ran to her, trying to catch her before she fell on her back. For a moment I thought he had missed her – but a drop of red appeared on the white of her dress, spreading quickly across her belly like a net of poison, a cloud of blood drenching the fabric.

She looked at me with her eyes wide open in painful shock. I sobbed and cried for help, trying to keep her with me through a stupor of despair, my hands pressing the wound as my heart’s blood left her body.

“Jamie.” Claire whispered weakly, searching my eyes. And I started to pray, as sirens wept around me.


Note: I know it’s angsty but - hey- it’s canon! :D

The Night Ahead (Part 3)

summary: bucky came out of cryostasis after just a few months. with the help of steve, he’s trying to piece the fractions of his mind back together. while flipping through old HYDRA files, he remembers something from his days as the winter soldier: you.

pairing: bucky x reader (sort of?? it’s complicated)

series contains: angsty angst, sadness, bucky reliving memories as the Winter Soldier, violence, people die a lot, bucky trying to cope, really awful translations of German, Russian, and Romanian (thanks to google translate i apologize in advance)

a/n: as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs. any kind of feedback is loved and appreciated. MASTER LIST | PART TWO

Originally posted by sxy-seabass

“What kind of contract were you on?” he asked me.

Bucky had knocked on my door early the next morning. I was already awake, but I had pretended to be annoyed when I opened the door and allowed him to come inside. He sat down in one of the recliners in the corner of the bedroom, while I sat at the foot of my bed.

“It was really more like a lease agreement,” I said. “HYDRA paid the organization I belonged to for my services, and I was at their disposal until that lease was up.”

“What organization?” he wanted to know.

Keep reading

Talk Norwegian to Me-Chris Schistad Imagine

Requested: No

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some sensuality

A/N: I just finished the first season of Skam and I love it. Vilde is the most adorable thing ever! Anyway, if you like this imagine, don’t hesitate to request more Skam imagines!

Mitt navn er= My name is

Hva heter du= What is your name?

Gratulerer, du vet noe norsk= Congratulations, you know some Norwegian

Takk skal du ha= Thank you

Og så kom hun opp til ham og slo ham= And then she slapped him

Foran alle= In front of everyone

Vel, han burde ikke ha hatt sex med henne og henne= Well, he shouldn’t have had sex with her or her…

Du ser veldig bra ut, Chris= You look very good, Chris

Nå vet jeg at du er full= Now I know you’re drunk



Originally posted by xnzlcma

    As I sat outside the headmaster’s office, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the possibilities as to why I was sitting there. In my entire academic career, I had never been in trouble, not once. Back in America, I had perfect attendance, straight As, and I had an active social life thanks to volleyball and theater. I had only been attending Hartvig Nissen for about a month now and the only thing I had done was join Eva, Vilde, Noora, and Sana’s Russ Bus and that only got me into a tiny amount of trouble. 

    My heart stopped beating for a second.

    Maybe that’s why I was here. The headmaster found out I had been drinking and dancing at The Penetrators’ party. 

    Was that going to get me expelled?
    “What are you doing here, Yankee?” Chris teased as he slid into the seat next to me.

     Ever since I transferred to Hartvig Nissen, it seemed as though Chris Schistad’s mission in life was to annoy me to death. He was always teasing me about how American I was and made sure to comment every time I would pass him with my friends. He was like an annoying toddler combined with a douchebag and I had no idea why so many girls liked him.

      “Not that it’s any of your business, but the headmaster asked to see me before classes start. Why are you here? Did someone finally catch you smoking on school property?” I shot back.

      Chris smirked that crow eating grin that got under my skin. “I don’t know, could be for anything really.” 

     I felt Chris’ beady eyes roam over my body and hugged my thick gray Burberry sweater tighter around my waist. “Stop staring at me like that.”

    “Can’t help it, you look hot in that sweater. Makes me wonder if you look this good with it on—”

    “Stop it,” I hissed.

    “…how good you would look with it off?”

    Before I could respond, the headmaster stepped out of his office. “Good morning, Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Schistad.”

    I stood immediately and shook the older man’s hand. “Good morning, Headmaster.”

   “Morgen,” Chris said.

   We followed the headmaster into his office and sat down in the two seats in front of his desk. Then, the headmaster sat down and leaned forward on his desk.

    “Y/N, you have shown great academic performance even though you just came here from America,” he said in a thick Norwegian accent. 

    “Thank you, Headmaster,” I said with a smile.

    “However, I think it would be much better for you to be in classes with the other Norwegian students here.”

     I blinked. “But, all of those classes are taught in Norwegian, besides foreign language classes.”

    “Which is why I’ve asked Mr. Schistad here as well. He is one of the only students who is nearly as proficient in English as he is in Norwegian.”

    It felt like the ground had fallen out from underneath me. Chris Schistad was going to tutor me. Had I fallen into some sort of Twilight Zone? I was doing just fine with the mini translator device I brought to classes and the girls in my bus helped me in the classes that we had together.

    “Noora also knows good English, headmaster, couldn’t she help me?”

    “While that is true, she does not have as extensive of a record as Mr. Schistad.” The headmaster cast a glance in Chris’ direction and all he could do was smirk in return. “You will practice every day after school but when and where are entirely up to you two. Any questions?”

    I shook my head, grabbed my bag, and wandered out of the office. How was this happening to me?
   “Well, it looks like we’ll be spending more time together, Yankee.”

    “My name is Y/N,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m free at five o’clock, or, seventeen o’clock your time. We’ll meet at a cafe or something.”

    “Can’t at five, I have plans.” Chris smiled suggestively and I nearly gagged.

    “Cancel your booty call, this is more important. You better not make me sound like an idiot.”
    “Never,” Chris said. “I’ll text you.”

    I nodded and hurried off to my first class. Unfortunately, the news of having Chris Schistad, the school f–kboy as my Norwegian tutor threw me for such a loop that I couldn’t really pay attention to European History, and it was one of my favorite classes. I shouldn’t let anyone, let alone Chris Schistad, stand in the way of my academic career, but I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head.


    “What?” Noora, Sana, Eva, Vilde, and Chris exclaimed.

   We were sitting in the cafe for lunch and I had just told them the news. They all had the same look of shock on their faces and I nodded.

   “Why couldn’t one of us teach you?” Noor asked.

   “Because the headmaster wants to help Chris be a better person I guess,” I said, picking at the sandwich on my plate.

   “I could teach you,” Chris said slowly.

   “You barely speak Norwegian, Chris, and most of the English you know is from music,” Eva teased.

    Chris rolled her eyes and took a big bite out of her croissant and muttered something in Norwegian.

    “But, this meeting won’t interfere with the Russ bus, right?” Vilde asked nervously.

    I shrugged. “I’m supposed to meet him today at five so I have no idea.” 

   Vilde sighed and burst into some anxious Norwegian before being hushed by Sana ad Noora. 

   “What did she say?”

   Noora shook her head. “Nothing, she’s just freaking out about the bus.” Noora leaned forward. “Anyway, having Chris as a tutor might not be that bad.”
   “Might not be that bad? He tricked me into drinking a bottle of pickle juice after I already had several shots of vodka at the party last Friday.”

   Chris burst out laughing while everyone else tried to hold in their laughs.

   “He was only messing with you,” Eva said.

    “In America, that’s borderline bullying,” I argued. “He’s making me lose my appetite.”

   I set the plate at my feet and groaned. The worst part was I was really looking forward to lunch that day. 

   “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of Norwegian in no time,” Noora said.

   “Now that’s a load of bs if I ever heard it.”

   The other girls burst into laughter and we started talking about something else. However, I couldn’t help but dread working with Chris later that day. I hoped that something would happen between my journey to school and the cafe we were supposed to meet at that would delay this process. Unfortunately, everything went smoothly and before I knew it, I was sitting in a booth in a cafe, hot chocolate set in front of me, scanning over the Norwegian language books I had gotten from the library.

    “Look at you, such a diligent student.” Chris slid into the seat across from me and I glanced up at him.

   “We both have to do our parts,” I muttered. “So, what is the first lesson?”

   “We’ll just go over the basics. Repeat after me, Mitt navn er.”

    It rolled perfectly off his tongue but seemed to get all jumbled up in my own.

   “Try again, Yankee.”

    “Mish nav er?”

    Chris burst out laughing and I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve never heard someone sound so bad at Norwegian before.”
   “If I do, it’s because I have a bad teacher.”

   Chris arched an eyebrow. “Look who has claws. Fine, let’s sound it out: Meet.”

    “Meet.”

    “Nav.”

     “Nav.”

    “Er.”

    “Er.”

    “Now, just put it together,” Chris said.

    “Mitt navn er.”

    “Perfect.”

    “What does it mean?”

   “My name is. Hva heter du?” 

    “Mitt navn er Y/N.”

    “You sound almost native.”
    “Bull.”

    “You caught me.”

     I couldn’t help myself but laugh before sipping some hot chocolate.

    “Am I going crazy or did I just make you laugh?”

    “It was a cough.” Chris kept giving me that knowing look that unnerved me and I averted my attention to the books. “Shouldn’t we be going over tenses and irregulars?”
    “We will not be using books as long as I am your tutor. You just need to practice with me, it is the best way to learn.”
    “But, that’s how I learned Spanish back in America.”

    “Really, say something in Spanish right now.”

    I hesitated before saying, “Gracias….para ayudame, uh, apprender su lenguaje.”

    “It took you awhile didn’t it? That’s the problem with Americans: you worry more about learning grammar than the actual language. Don’t worry about it so much.”

    As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I would have to loosen up if I was ever going to learn Norwegian and end these lessons. Chris taught me a few more basic phrases before we decided to call it a night. 

   “Your homework will be to work these phrases into every day conversation,” Chris said.

    “Fine, Mr. Schistad,” I said.

    I began packing up my books when Chris stopped me, “We’re having another party Saturday. You should come, practice more.”
    “I’ll think about it.”

     The lessons for the next few months seemed to go the same as that: Chris would teach me phrases and make me practice them. I got homework every day but I practiced as much as I could. Eva, Noora, Vilde, Sana, and Chris noticed that I was getting slightly better after a while.

    “Gratulerer, du vet noe norsk,” Sana praised.

    “Takk skal du ha,” I replied. 

    “Chris is not a bad tutor,” Eva noted.

    We were sitting in the cafe for our Russ meeting and the conversation quickly switched from the budget to my Norwegian lessons.

    “No, it’s kind of weird how good he is.”

    “Do you get a prize when you are good student?” Chris teased.

    I rolled my eyes. “No.”

    “He is being nicer to you, Y/N,” Noora said. “And I see him staring at you when you aren’t looking.”

     I shook my head. Noora couldn’t possibly mean that Chris liked me, could she? I was only a first year, an international first year at that. Wouldn’t Chris prefer a girl in his own year, from his own country?

    “He’s probably looking at something else,” I said.

    “Please, he undresses you with his eyes every chance he gets,” Sana blurted. 

    “No, it’s sweeter than that, Sana. He likes you, Y/N, really likes you,” Vilde said.

    “Stop lying. He’s just being nicer to me because we hang out more and he probably isn’t looking at me the way you all are thinking.”

   “Whatever you say, Y/N,” Eva sang.

   I rolled my eyes again as my friends dissolved into laughter. They were crazy for thinking Chris liked me. If anything, we had become friendly associates who occasionally partied together. However, I had noticed that he wasn’t hooking up with girls at parties like he used to, but maybe he was sick of being with the same kind of girls at parties.

    An hour after the meeting, Chris and I were sitting in his room, talking solely in Norwegian.

    “Og så kom hun opp til ham og slo ham!” Chris exclaimed.

    “Foran alle?”
    “Ja!”

    I burst out laughing at Chris’ story and shook my head. “Vel, han burde ikke ha hatt sex med henne og henne, um, henne.”

    Chris leaned towards me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Relax, Y/N, don’t sweat it, it’s just me.”

     “Henne…oh forget it!” I folded my arms across my shoulders. “Two months of tutoring every day and I forget the simplest term in Norwegian. There’s no way I’m gonna pass that proficiency test.”

     I buried my face in my hands and sighed. The bed shifted underneath me and I heard some rustling around.

    “You’re doing so well for someone who came into this country not knowing any Norwegian. And you’re the smartest girl I know so some stupid proficiency test isn’t going to hold you back,” Chris said.

    When I looked up, he had a bottle of vodka in his hand. “Thanks, Chris, but what is that for?”

    “To help you relax.”

    My eyes widened. “No, we shouldn’t.”

    “It’s fine, it’s legal here. The more relaxed you are, the better you’ll be.”

    He did have a good point, but how wrong was it for me to be drinking with a known player in his room when his parents weren’t home? Wasn’t it a bit dangerous and crazy? On the other hand, if I did drink, it was solely for the purpose of getting better at practicing Norwegian.

    “This is just for practice,” I said.

    “Of course.” Chris handed me the bottle and I took a swig, wincing a little at the burning sensation and bitter taste. “Why do you people like vodka so much?”

    “No idea,” he said as he took a swig.

     I quickly lost count of how much I had to drink. The room looked a little hazy and everything Chris said seemed to make me laugh. Plus, he suddenly looked really good with his playful dark eyes, chiseled jaw, and fantastic brown hair. 

    “Du ser veldig bra ut, Chris,” I chuckled out.

    “Nå vet jeg at du er full,” Chris said with a laugh.

    “No, I mean it, you’re actually really attractive when you’re not trying to hook up with girls or tease me,” I said.

    “Thanks, Y/N.” 

    The bad thing about my being inebriated is that I said anything and everything that was on my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about how all my friends thought Chris had a thing for me. 

    “You wanna hear something funny?”

    “Sure.”

    “Noora, Eva, Sana, Vilde, and Girl Chris think you like me because you look at me a lot. Are they right?”

    Chris stopped smiling and looked serious for a second. “I thought you were the prettiest girl in school when I first saw you. I just teased you because you aren’t like all the other girls. You’re serious and you don’t take anything from anyone. Plus, you’re the smartest girl I know. I’m actually glad that headmaster put us together.”

    “But do you like me?”

    “Do you like me?”
    I paused for a moment. “I mean, I’ve thought you were a jerk since we first met, but, now I know you’re actually kind of nice and still every bit as cool as everyone thinks you are. And you’re smarter than you let on.” I smiled. “Plus, you are super hot, I just didn’t like you because you tease me all the time.”

   “And now?”

   “Now, I like you.”

   Chris smirked for a moment. “Are you ready for a new phrase, Y/N?”

   “Always.”

   “Kyss meg.”

   “Kyss meg.”

   A second later, Chris’ lips were on mine and i didn’t know whether it was the vodka or not, but he was really good at it. Almost immediately after, I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He pulled me into his lap and we quickly began making out. Soon enough, I was lying ontop of him, but our tongues were involved now. Usually, I avoided tongue kisses because it was always so sloppy and slobbery. But with Chris, it didn’t feel that way at all, it was smooth and nice.

  All I can say is that the next morning, I woke up with a headache and in Chris’ bed. I jerked up in the bed and almost immediately regretted it since it just made my head hurt worse.

   “Ow,” I said.

   “Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.” Chris walked into the room and handed me a cup of coffee.

    “Did we, you know—-”

    “No, we didn’t, I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that ever.”

    His words sounded sincere and I nodded.

   “I’m so sorry about last night. Must’ve been the vodka.”

   “Really, because it seemed like you actually liked me.”

    “Alcohol does that to you.” I took a long swig of the coffee, praying that it would dull my headache. 

    Fortunately, my dad was in Paris for a business trip and my mom had gone to Geneva to visit one of my cousins. I could only imagine what they would’ve thought if I hadn’t come home today. Plus, I couldn’t believe that I had drunkenly made out with Chris. 

    “Do you remember anything else from last night?” Chris asked, looking dejected.

   “Kind of, you said that Noora and the other girls were right about you liking me, but you were pretty drunk too.”

   “What is that saying: a drunken mouth speaks sober thoughts?”

    “Something like that.” I crawled out of his bed and continued sipping coffee. “I should probably go.”

    Chris nodded and I began gathering my things. It was awful how awkward it was and I could only hope that it wouldn’t interfere with our future lessons. Before I could leave, Chris grabbed my arm and I turned to him. “I meant everything I said last night, Y/N, drunken or not and if you need me to repeat myself, I will: Y/N, I thought you were the most beautiful girl when I first saw you and I think you’re one of the smartest, cleverest, and kindest person I’ve ever met. You’re also way out of my league but you can’t blame me for trying, so yeah, I like you a lot.”

    “That’s so sweet, Chris, I…I don’t know what to say.”

    “Say if you like me back. Tell me the truth.”

    “What can I say? We’ve gotten close over the past couple months and I suppose I like you in some way.”

    Chris shook his head. “No, we both know this goes deeper than that.”

   “Chris—”

   “I’ll see you Monday.”

   As I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel dejected. On one hand, I had one of the most desired guys at school liking me and on the other hand, I had no idea if I liked him. For three months, I have detested him and thanks to some alcohol, I made out with him and told him I liked him. This was all much too confusing and it was making my headache worse the more I thought about it. However, I couldn’t help but wonder if that saying “Drunken mouths speak sober truths” had any truth to it. 

anonymous asked:

Can you so a scenario where the S and M brothers lay their head down on their S/O lap and she smiles a bit and strokes their and tells them that they remind her of a little kid when they do that

Sakamaki:

Shu - Besides the fact that he’s practically purring at your touch… “Quiet lewd woman you started this.”

Reiji - It’s not often that you can get Reiji to relax and let his guard down around you like this are you sure you want to say that? “How rude, to demean me to child just for resting… I don’t want to have to punish you.”

Ayato - Ayato’s face would go red at your comment, he’d even pout a little. “Shut it Pancake, you belong to Your’s Truly and I’ll do as I please, no matter if you do see me as a child!”

Kanato - Kanato would be so quiet that it’d be disturbing if you said it, he almost looked like he was asleep. “Hey, just don’t mess up my hair…”

Laito - Laito is not really one to have his hair played with, it’s not that he hates it more so that he’s indifferent. “How about you play with something else, ehh Little Bitch? Maybe then you can’t compare me to a child.”

Subaru - His hair is so fluffy and soft, how can you now play with it? That is if he’d let you, he’s not one to lay in your lap so saying something like that would definitely set him off to leave. “Hey, idiot what are you doing?! Ahh, alright j-just don’t mess it up… And don’t say that.”

Mukami:

Ruki - Ruki’s weak glare at your words says it all while he was reading a book. “Don’t make me have to punish you livestock, I’m just getting to the good part of this novel.”

Kou - Kou does not like for his hair to be played with but he can tolerate it, just don’t compare him to a child. “Hey Masokitty it’s best to not underestimate a pretty face.”

Yuma - Yuma would grunt at your words but would not move, his weak threats were still a little unnerving. “Don’t test me Sow, now move a little to front.”

Azusa - Azusa does not care about your words, he was in heaven as soon as your fingers started to comb through his locks.

kadda252  asked:

For the prompt thing, pretty please 10 or 29 or both in one 🙏🏻🙏🏻

This is kind of the opposite of what I wrote yesterday. So here be fluff and nothing but fluff. It’s a sequel to this (sappy) prompt. But you can read it on its own as well. Thank you for the prompt! 

10. “I can never unsee that.” + 29. “Y-you love me?”

When Mulder finds himself in the car en route to Mrs. Scully’s house, he is not sure when it happened.

Or how.

But here he is, in the passenger seat, forced to listen to classical music that’s supposed to be calming. That’s what Scully told him 20 minutes ago, anyway. She’s quiet, tapping along on the steering wheel while Mulder keeps trying to come up with something clever to say. Or really anything. He has questions, plenty of them, but he doesn’t ask any of them. Why am I here, Scully? He would like to know. Why do I have to see your brother twice in one day? Mulder grows agitated just thinking about it.

Why did you kiss me earlier, Scully? That’s the one he really wants to know about.

In good old Mulder and Scully fashion, they haven’t talked about it. The kiss. It’s been hours and Scully hasn’t mentioned it once. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it never happened. Just a figment of his vast imagination. He’s imagined kissing Scully a million times over the years. But no; it definitely happened. Her hands were on his thighs, he can almost feel them still, and her lips grazed his oh so softly. Oh yeah. It happened.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Scully says in between songs. As if the music should not be interrupted.

“I thought you wanted me to shut up.”

“That was… earlier.” Mulder thinks he sees her blush.

“Yeah well, I didn’t know when you wanted me to stop.” Mulder cracks open a sunflower seed, realizing how hungry he is. With her kissing him and then convincing him to go with her to her mother’s made him forget everything else. Like having lunch.

“About the time I – never mind.” The kiss, he thinks, suppressing a smile. She certainly shut him up with that.

“You mean the… you know.” Here he is complaining that Scully doesn’t mention their foray into new, more intimate territory and he finds himself shying away as well.  

“It wasn’t fun, Mulder.” Oh.

“I’m sorry, Scully, I didn't… you started it. I just – then why did you ask me to come with you to your mother’s? If I’m no fun.” Mulder sounds bitter; he tries not to, but what can he do? He’s been wanting to kiss Scully for ages and when they finally do, she hates it.

“That’s why,” she tells him, her voice even, her eyes on the road, “You made fun of me. You know I thought you had something important to tell me and you let me believe it, Mulder.” Oh, again. She wasn’t talking about the kiss at all.

“Scully, I’m sorry. Your brother unnerves me,” he sees her nod in agreement, “He said all these things and then when you finally showed up at the office I felt like… I just wanted you to know there was something to come back to. As stupid as it was.”

“An espresso machine in accounting.”

“I realize it wasn’t my brightest moment, Scully, but I had to say something.”

“But do you realize that I hurried through lunch with my brother because I thought something important was going on?”

“I’m sorry, Scully. What else can I say?”

“Next time your exciting news turn out to be about kitchen appliances, tell me right away and don’t make it a secret.”

“In my defense,” Scully shoots him a look and Mulder ignores it, “I never said it was exciting. I didn’t keep it a secret either. So that’s why I’m here? As punishment?”

“Partly,” she admits.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What’s the other reason?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Scully chuckles and Mulder adds it to his long, long list of things they, apparently, don’t talk about.

*

Mulder doesn’t know what he expected, but it’s not this. This is not, as Scully assured him earlier, a small family gathering. This is dozens of people running around Mrs. Scully’s house.

“Oh Dana, you made it!” A woman, who is almost as tall as Mulder, hugs Scully tightly.

“Mom made me promise.” She replies with a soft smile. If only she would smile like this more often.

“And who is this nice young man, Dana?”

“This is Fox Mulder. My partner,” she startles, “my friend,” Scully turns to him, searching for the right word, “my work…” She trails off with a confused hand gesture.

“Oh Fox,” the large woman shakes his hand heartily, a huge grin on her face, “Maggie told us so much about you. She didn’t say you were coming today!”

“Ah yes, I cleared my schedule for this,” Mulder puts on what he hopes is a charming smile, and judging from the woman’s face it works well enough, and sighs, “I wanted to be here.”

“That’s so lovely, Fox. I’m Dana’s aunt, Millicent.” She’s still holding his hand, he realizes. “Now, go say hello to everyone else. I hope I’ll see you around, Fox.” Aunt Millicent winks at him and Mulder blushes. When she’s out of sight, Scully sighs audibly.

“So I’m your work, huh?” Mulder bumps her shoulder playfully.

“Oh shut up, Mulder. You know what I meant.” Scully doesn’t look at him, instead she seems to look for someone else among all these small and not so small heads. There’s a whirlwind of noises and voices surrounding them.

“Do I?” Scully glances up at him, brows furrowed. Her mouth opens to say something when a loud, distinctively male voice chimes:

“Is that Dana?” In a quick movement, Scully grabs Mulder’s coat sleeve and drags him with her right into a room he’s never seen before. It’s dark, it’s small and for the moment, surprisingly quiet. It could be a coat closet, he thinks, as a soft fabric brushes against him.  

“Scully what-” She puts her finger on his lips to quiet him. Not as effective as her earlier mode of shutting him up, but it works. He’s not going to complain that she’s touching him. Her finger is warm, it’s soft, and he just can’t help himself; he kisses it. Scully’s eyes open wide, but she doesn’t take her finger away, and so he kisses it again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Mulder.” Her angry whisper shocks him, but even if he knew what to say, he couldn’t. Scully’s lips find his again and this time he makes sure she’s not cutting their kiss short. His arms tighten around her and hold her close. She moans into his open mouth as one of his hands wanders up her spine.

“Why would they – Dana! And Fox!” The door opens and their mouths separate with a loud smack. Their arms still around each other they stare into the faces of Scully’s mother, her brother and man Mulder doesn’t know. Oh well.

“I can never unsee that.” Bill Scully mumbles shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why are you hiding in here?” Maggie Scully, a laugh in her voice, opens the door wider so they can step out. Mulder tries to secretly wipe at his mouth, but the nameless guy watches him intently. As does Bill.

“Bill wanted to introduce you to his Navy friend.” Now it’s Mulder who eyes the other man warily. This is the guy Bill Scully told him about earlier in his office. On his turf. This, he figures, is neutral ground. Not to mention that he just kissed Scully for the second time in one day. That should count for something.

“This is Frank,” the blond stranger waves awkwardly, uncertain if he should shake Scully’s hand, “My friend I told you about earlier.” Bill finishes, his eyes full engaged in a glaring match with his sister. For once Mulder is glad to not be at the receiving end of that death stare.

“And what did I tell you?” Her voice sounds like pure ice.

“I’m just asking you to meet him. You don’t have to marry him.” Bill glances at Mulder, who briefly considers hiding behind Scully or even her mother.

“I’m not interested,” she tells him, “Sorry, Frank.” The man blushes furiously.

“It’s because of him, isn’t it? I mean what you just did…”

“Bill.” His mother’s voice warns him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“He has nothing to offer you, Dana!”

“Bill, leave your sister and Fox alone. Now come on, all of you. We’ve got a house full of people. Behave yourselves.” Mulder watches as Scully raises her eyebrow as if challenging her brother and of course, he bites.

“What is it about him, Dana? He doesn’t love you.”

“Hey,” it’s the last straw and Mulder can no longer keep quiet, “I do love your sister. I love her more than I could ever put into words.”

“Y-you love me?” Out of the corner of his eye Mulder sees Mrs. Scully lead her son and the ominous Frank away. Not that Mulder still cares. His eyes are on Scully, and hers are on him. Right now, in a house full of people, they’re the only two that matter.

“Scully, I am not drunk,” he begins, his voice slightly wavering, “I am not drugged either. I am just me and I am in full capacity of my sanity,” Scully’s eyebrow rises, “as much as is left of it anyway. So let me tell you that yes, I love you. I am in love with you.”

“That’s really nice,” Scully tells him and it’s only now that he notices how close they are once again; like magnets drawn to each, he figures, “Because you know what?”

“What?”

“I love you, too.”

No more words are needed and so he kisses her again and again and again.