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numinousmysteries · 15 days ago

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The Baying of the Six-Pound Hound

For the @twocakesficfest (several months too late) prompt:

immortal / invincible queeqeg who likes to show up and mess up a case or two (probably by eating the victim - e.g. Mulder: the victim walked away, cut to a tiny dog dragging a leg away)

A very special thank you to @leiascully for catching all my nauseating tense changes, ensuring I didn't accidentally summon any evil spirits, and making me work a tiny bit more to get them smooching.

[on Ao3]

He'd been in an uncharacteristically deep sleep when the yapping woke him up, which made it all the more annoying. It was rare for him to be so fully disconnected from the waking world. Typically, he'd float just below the surface of consciousness, the smallest noise enough to rouse him. But on this night, in a narrow, single-story motor lodge wedged up in the Colorado mountains, Fox Mulder had been completely, deeply, aslumber.

He'd been dreaming, too. Not his usual fretful nightmare but a rather sweet dream that featured his partner. It wasn't the first time he dreamt about her, although those dreams were typically of a more erotic nature and would leave him waking up feeling filthy with guilt—and more often than not, rock hard. He'd dream of bending her over the desk in their basement office, burying himself in her, and hearing her soft little moans as he gripped the curves of her hips. Or they'd be on the couch in his apartment and she'd be in his lap, riding him as he watched the smooth undulation of her breasts. These dreams would send him to the shower full of shame. He'd shut his eyes and take himself in his fist, gripping his cock with a firmness that bordered on pain to break the mounting tension with enough self-punishment that he could face Scully in the morning.

But this most recent dream left nothing to be ashamed of. They were walking hand-in-hand, fully-clothed, down a Georgetown street near her apartment. The sun warmed his face and Scully's small hand fit perfectly in his. They weren't in pursuit of a suspect or off to meet an informant, just strolling aimlessly like two people in love. In a way, this mundane dream felt more illicit than his most perverse fantasies because it seemed like more than anything he deserved. He could better imagine a tense moment, even an argument between them, dissolving into frenzied sex than allow himself to indulge the idea of a happy, out-in-the-open relationship with Scully. Which was why this dream was so lovely—and why it had been so frustrating when the yapping shocked him awake.

It sounded like Queequeg. But Scully didn't bring the dog with her on cases, not since– Shit , he remembered. Scully's annoying little furball of a dog, whom she inexplicably loved (which, he considered fleetingly, might bode well for her capacity to love other irritating beings), had died on the shore of Heuvelmans Lake, eaten by an alligator, or Big Blue, depending on who you asked.

The barking must have been coming from one of the neighboring rooms. But Scully was in the room to his left and the room to his right had appeared to be unoccupied when they arrived.

By the time he showered, dressed, and made it outside to meet Scully at the rental car, she was already waiting for him with a cup of bitter coffee from the urn in the motel lobby.

"That dog wake you up, too?" he asked.

She arched an eyebrow at him as she sipped from her styrofoam cup. "What dog?"

"Nevermind," he said, unlocking the car door.

They snaked around the mountain to the ranger station where they'd planned to meet the park ranger who’d supposedly spotted the Slide Rock Bolter. The Bolter, according to legend, was a giant landfish with a forked tail that could pick up a lumberjack and split him in two. It also had the jaw of a whale, the teeth of a shark, and the power to cause avalanche-like rock slides, hence the name. The ranger who contacted Mulder claimed that his partner, who’d gone missing the previous week, had been swallowed whole by the Bolter.

Their interview proved to be less than illuminating and they spent the rest of the afternoon hiking the mountain on their own searching for the creature. The high altitude left them both breathless so they were slower than usual as they ascended. Mulder was annoyed that they couldn't cover more ground before the sun started to set. Their descent was even slower as neither had brought the right shoes and they found themselves stumbling down the rocks and grasping onto each other for support.

Then, he saw it. A flash of auburn darting between a row of skeletal aspen trees. He gasped.

"What is it?" she asked, turning back to face him.

"I saw something," he said.

"The Slide Rock Bolter?"

He frowned and shook his head. "Probably just a fox. Maybe a coyote.” Although, if he were being honest, it kind of looked like a small dog.

Scully shrugged, turned away from him, and started heading back down the mountain.

He didn’t want to say anything, but Scully's apartment smelled bad. It normally smelled nice. Like the candles she lights or even freshly baked bread, even though he knows she doesn't bake bread. But now, it smelled like wet dog. He specifically wouldn't bring that up because she hadn't owned a dog in nearly a year now. For reasons that might have been, depending on who you asked, his fault.

He tried to hide his disgust as he spread open a file of photographs on her kitchen table, but the odor was truly overpowering. It was as if Queequeg—or let's say any anonymous dog who had not been eaten by, depending on who was telling the story, Big Blue or an alligator—had been mucking around in sewer water after not bathing for several weeks.

"Sorry, Scully, but what's that smell?" he asked finally. He felt his stomach contents rising to his throat, and it wasn’t because of the gruesome crime scene photos on the table.

She paused and tilted her chin up to the ceiling. He watched as she sniffed the air in sharp, short inhales through her perfectly proportioned nose.

"I don't smell anything," she said.

"Really?" he asked, stunned. "It smells like—and I don't mean to bring up any unpleasant memories—wet dog in here."

She sniffed again, then shrugged. "I really don't smell it," she said, shaking her head. "But I can open a window if you want."

"Nah, it's okay."

He tried to run through his explanation of the case as quickly as possible. Three victims found without tongues, but no evidence of any procedure or act that would've resulted in the loss of said tongues which, their friends and family members insisted, were surely present before their deaths.

"The killer could be a surgeon and have access to fine tools or even lasers for seamless cuttage," she said, examining the autopsy photos.

"Mmmhmm, mmhmm," he nodded, trying to open his mouth as little as possible to keep the scent out. "But there's no sign of cutting or scarring. Which there surely would be if the procedure was performed so recently? None of the victims were missing for more than 24 hours—and all had been seen, with tongue no less, within a day. No wound could heal that fast, right?"

"So, what's your theory?" she asked. "Cat got their tongue?"

She was pleased with her little joke and gave him a rare, precious Scully grin. He wanted to at least humor her with a laugh but the mention of a cat—so close to a dog that smelled like crap—made his stomach gurgle yet again and he had to swallow sharply to keep the acidic bile down.

"You okay, Mulder?"

"Yeah, it's just...that smell. It's nauseating."

She shook her head again, that long neck taunting him. "I'm a little concerned," she said. "Are you feeling alright? A sinus infection could cause phantosmia. Or a head injury. Although you weren't banged up much on our last case."

"I'm fine," he said. "Anyway, it's not a cat I'm thinking of, but a cannibalistic spirit documented by Algonquian-speaking Native American tribes in the Northern US and Canadian wilderness.”

"A wendigo?" she asked, eyebrow arched and ready to fire.

“Very impressive, Scully,” he grinned. “Although you should know that merely saying the spirit’s name is considered taboo. Some believe doing so could summon it into being.”

She rolled her eyes.

He swallowed hard, and continued. “The spirit possesses a man, who then becomes unable to resist the temptation to eat human flesh. Specifically, the delicacy of the tongue."

"So you think a possessed person ate the victims' tongues?"

"Perhaps," he says. "And the legend goes that because it's actually the spirit feasting on human flesh—not the killer himself—there are no wounds where the tongue is removed. It also explains how these victims lost more than half their blood volume with no signs of trauma."

"It could be severe gastrointestinal bleeding," she said, ignoring his theory. "Perhaps as the result of a communicable illness which would explain why three members of the same community died in the same manner."

"So you think they shat out all their blood?"

"It's not unheard of," she shrugged. “Have any of the victims traveled to a region where ebola is endemic?”

It was all making him nauseous now. He thought he'd gotten used to it after being in the room for a few minutes but the smell, if anything, was getting worse.

He felt vomit rising into his mouth and cupped his hand over his lips. "Sorry, Scully. I gotta--" he started before bolting to her bathroom and puking into the toilet.

"Are you okay?" she asked when he re-entered the room, eyes bloodshot.

"I think I'm coming down with something," he said. "Listen, why don't you take a look at those photos and we'll discuss more in the office tomorrow. I better get going."

"Jeez, Mulder, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were pregnant, between the heightened sense of smell and the vomiting. But that sounds like one of your theories, not mine."

"Very funny, Scully," he said, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and heading to the door.

In the hallway, he gasped a sigh of relief. Whatever disgusting dog odor permeated Scully's apartment fortunately hadn't made its way out here.

At first, he thought the sharp prick at his heel was Scully's toenails. He was about to tease her about trimming them when he realized she was sitting beside him on her couch with her feet tucked underneath her. They were back at her apartment a week later debriefing their previous case. He hadn’t been able to prove the existence of a cannibalistic spirit and she hadn’t been able to come up with a plausible scientific explanation so they were left in their typical stalemate. Although the animal smell had dissipated, he couldn’t shake the sense that something was off.

He was listening to her recount her autopsy findings when— fuck , there was that sharp biting sensation again. He involuntarily kicked out his foot as if fending off an invisible ankle-height assailant.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes popped open.

"Shit, sorry Scully," he said, trying to settle back down. "I could've sworn something was biting my ankle.”

"Biting?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah," he trailed off, folding in half to examine the carpet underneath the sofa. "Almost like a little dog."

"Like Queequeg?" She smirked.

"Actually, yeah, I think that's exactly what it was like. Like that fur ball was nibbling at my heels.”

“I don’t have to tell you that’s impossible.” He detected a hint of sadness in her voice and his heart sank, not for the first time, for all that their work had taken from her.

He opened his mouth to tell her about the other recent events—the barking sound, the flash of auburn in the Colorado wilderness, the wet fur smell of her apartment—but he knew she’d just dismiss it all.

“What?” she asked, sensing he was on the verge of revealing something. As if they were on a case and he was holding back a vital piece of information. Something he had been guilty of doing in the past, he knew, but he usually had a valid reason.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mulder….” She dipped her chin down as her eyes bore into his.

Powerless against her, he told her everything. "Maybe he's haunting you," he concluded.

"Oh, no, Mulder," she said definitively. "I don't think it's me he's haunting."

They decided to hold a seance the next day. Scully sneered at first but ultimately went along with it without needing too much convincing. She still had Queequeg’s leash and collar, so they set up a small shrine on her coffee table. She gathered a mismatched array of candles from the bathroom and living room and put them around Queequeg's memorabilia.

"How does this work?" she asked.

He considered reminding her that she'd demonstrated the ability to transcend the boundary between the living and the dead in the past, but that would have required bringing up her father, which would have put a damper on this otherwise delightful evening. Scully felt warm next to him and they were essentially hanging out without the pretense of a case. Sure, they were having a seance for a dead dog, but how else would the two of them bond after hours?

"Let's just close our eyes, hold hands, and try to summon his spirit."

"Is this just an excuse to hold hands, Mulder?"

"Any excuse I can get," he said, as he reached out to take her hand in his. He hoped it came off as a joke, but he really did mean it. It felt so good to hold her hand when neither of them were near death.

"Mary Todd Lincoln used to host the nation's most renowned spiritualists at the White House for seances to speak with her late son," Mulder said, trying to lend an air of legitimacy to their makeshift session. "Even honest Abe would sometimes make an appearance."

"Don't we need a medium?" Scully asked, keeping a firm hold on his hand.

"I figure you could play the role, Madame Scully," he said, tipping his chin in her direction. She smiled. He liked making her smile. Her smile always had the effect of flicking a switch deep in his belly that felt like the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wings.

"I think Melissa and I had a Ouija board back in the day."

"Pfft," he snorted. "The Ouija board is a purely commercial invention. I don't think anything made in the same factory as Chutes and Ladders can be trusted to commune with the dead."

Scully smirked. "I assumed Ouijia boards would fit right in with the Fox Mulder cosmology."

"Then, Scully," he said, shaking his head, "I don't think you know me at all."

He grinned at her and she smiled back.

"So, how do we start this thing?" she asked.

"First, we have to close the circle." He extended his free hand to hers and she squeezed tightly onto it.

They stood silently for a beat, facing each other, holding hands. He wasn't actually sure if there was a spiritualist reason for creating the closed circle, but it had to have roots in ancient concepts of energy channeling. He'd done silly little seances in college, typically led by witchy girls with dyed black hair and crystal jewelry, and they always stressed the importance of not breaking the circle. Once he had taken the time to dive into the occult and 19th century spiritualism—the heyday of the modern seance—he couldn't find anything on the importance of maintaining a circle. But then again, if holding one of Scully's hands was nice, holding both of them was even better.

He closed his eyes and, without saying anything, sensed that she'd closed hers, too. He relished the trust she placed in him, listening as her breathing slowed and deepened. He inhaled the heady mix of candles they'd gathered from around the apartment. Vanilla and eucalyptus mingled in the air with musk and gardenia and he suspected these weren't all supposed to be lit at once, but somehow it worked.

"Do you want me to say something?" she asked, her soft voice drifting over to him in the dark.

"Um, if you want," he said.

She paused, then began. "Queequeg, we welcome your spirit into our circle. If you're near us, please make your presence known."

"Not bad, Scully," he said, giving her hands a squeeze.

"Melissa used to do this crap all the time."

"Hey, don't rain on my parade over here."

"Sorry," she said with a giggle that set his soul aflame.

"We miss you, Queequeg, you were a good dog," she went on. "You didn't always smell the best, especially when you were flatulent, which seemed to be more often than not—"

"What were you feeding that dog?" Mulder interrupted.

"Shut up," she said. "But no matter how poorly you smelled at times, I loved you very much and truly enjoyed the time we spent together. If you've come back because you're angry at Mulder for leading you to your demise at the hands of an alligator—"

"Or Big Blue," he piped up.

She tugged on his hands and ignored him. "If you're angry at Mulder, he'd like to take this chance to apologize and request your forgiveness so you can transition on to the next plane in peace."

"Scully, this isn't half bad," he said, genuinely impressed.

"It's your turn now—go on, apologize."

"Are you serious?"

"Do you want him to stop haunting you or not?"

Mulder smiled and tried to convey his happiness through their grasped hands.

"Queequeg, this is Mulder speaking. I want to apologize for calling you names and dragging you out to Heuvelmans Lake where you met your untimely demise. I wish we could have spent more time together with Scully—”

She cut him off with an adorable snort of a laugh.

"—listening to Scully talk. And have Scully check us for fleas and ticks."

Her giggle was a full-blown laugh now. He was desperate to open his eyes and see her face light up. but he’d bought into this seance, so he wasn’t about to break it now.

"I checked you for ticks once , Mulder," she said. "And that was because we'd just spent the night in the woods."

"Well, you're welcome to check again any time."

"I think we're getting off topic," she said, collecting herself. "Keep talking to Queequeg."

There was no gust of wind, flickering light, or even jingling collar bells ringing through the room after he finished speaking, but they both sensed a change. It was as if a six-pound weight had been lifted.

"I think his spirit is free," Scully whispered to him, solemnly.

"Run free, Queequeg," he said. He gently opened his eyes and found that hers were open too, and she was looking at him warmly. Despite her reputation for being cold and closed off, he knew that Scully emanated warmth. Once she let someone into her life, she’d hold them in her warmth and protect them with her loyalty. He was only slightly peeved that she had opened herself up to Queequeg before him.

She loved with a fierceness and dedication outsized for her tiny frame. Then again, everything about Scully was larger than her small size would suggest. Her brilliance, her strength, and yes, her love, all seemed like they should overwhelm someone so tiny, but Scully managed to contain it all in just a few inches over five feet.

In that way, she was like Queequeg. An outsized force stuffed into a small package, with a tuft of auburn hair, who would bite if necessary. He wouldn't dare compare her to Queequeg out loud, though.

Instead, he said, "He was a good dog."

"I thought you couldn't stand him."

"I don't know if we ever saw eye to eye, per se, although that might've been more of a height issue." He gave her a crooked smile. "But I know you liked him, that he kept you company."

"That makes me sound pretty pathetic," she sighed.

"I didn't mean that. Just that—" he paused to choose his words carefully—"it's nice to come home to someone. I know fish aren't really the same as dogs, but sometimes it's soothing to see them after a long day of the shit we deal with. It just helps me put things in perspective—I'm dealing with lies and gaslighting and conspiracies, and they're just obliviously swimming along and enjoying their lives. A dog must be similar, I imagine."

"Yeah," she nodded. "It was like that with Queequeg. Whenever I'd get frustrated with work or with you"— he gasped in mock outrage and she just smiled and continued—"he'd always be here and look so excited to go for a walk or get his dinner. The consistency was comforting. And he was good at cuddling. He'd get so warm, like a little ball of heat."

"You know, Scully," he started, "I'm available for cuddling if you're ever feeling cold."

“I’ll keep that under consideration.” She smiled. “For now, want to stick around for a glass of wine?”

“Sure,” he said, and she disappeared into the kitchen to fetch a bottle and glasses.

"I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to speak with Queequeg's spirit," he said when she returned, accepting a glass of red wine from her.

Settled into the opposite corner of the couch, Scully sat with her legs scrunched up underneath herself with her own glass of wine. He couldn't deal with how precious she looked—nor with how far away she sat.

"Get over here, Scully," he said, patting the cushion next to him.

She smiled, untucked her legs, and moved to scoot over next to him. He transferred his wine glass to his left hand so he could drape his right arm over her shoulder.

"Maybe Queequeg just has to realize that I'm not a threat to you," he said. Emboldened by her lack of response to his arm over hers, he started lazily tracing circles on her tricep. "Then he'll stop haunting me."

"You're not a threat to me," she said, seriously.

"Come on, Scully." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I'm responsible for so much shit that's happened to you over the years. If I were a little Pomeranian in love with you, I'd do everything in my six-pound power to make this Mulder guy's life a living hell."

She raised an eyebrow. "You think Queequeg was in love with me?"

"How could he not be?" he spit out without even thinking. "I mean—" he tried to recover—"you took good care of him."

Scully just gave him a Cheshire cat grin. She wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"You think that's all it takes to fall in love with me? If I take care of you?"

"Well, there are lots of reasons a guy—or a dog—could fall in love with you. You're loyal, kind, and caring. You're fucking brilliant. And you're not half-bad to look at either."

"’Not half-bad,’” she repeated, frowning. “I’m flattered, really.”

“Give me a break. I’m trying to play it cool here,” he admitted.

She blushed and took a sip of her wine. He did, too, as if trying to use the alcohol to mask his sudden confession. Although it was his first sip and he'd been drunk in love with her for longer than he cared to admit.

"Oh, fuck it," he said. He leaned forward to set the wine glass on the coffee table and pivoted to face her. Bravely, he delved into uncharted territory. "You're breathtakingly beautiful, Scully. I'm not about to speculate on what got Queequeg's gears going, but if he's anything like me, he wouldn't be able to resist you. Frankly, I'm jealous of how many nights he got to spend in your bed."

"I didn't allow him in the bed."

He smiled wide. “Of course you didn't," he said. "Because you know about things like pet dander and how sleeping with a dog in your bed can interrupt your REM cycle and that's another reason why you're so lovable.”

“You’re making me sound more anal-retentive than lovable.” She looked up at him with sad eyes before quickly glancing down again.

“Oh, Scully, you know that’s now what I mean.” He leaned forward to nudge her shoulder with his.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her eyes still downcast.

“Just that—” He paused, struggling to find the words. “You’re so you , Scully. You’re so fully realized, so completely yourself, but not in a way that makes you predictable or boring. It just makes it all the more thrilling when I learn something new about you that somehow both surprises me and fits into the puzzle of what makes you you.”

“And that fact that I didn’t let a dog sleep in my bed somehow makes me more lovable?”

“It does to me.” He brought the tip of his pointer finger to her chin, softly encouraging her to look back toward him. “What I’m trying, and apparently failing, to say is that I love everything about you. I love that you’re particular and exacting. I love that you force me to be honest and vigorous in our work, and I love that you’re part of my life outside of work, too. And while there’s nothing I value more than our friendship, I hope I’m not being too presumptive to say that I’m getting the feeling we’d both like to be more than friends.”

Terrified, he searched her eyes for confirmation, any sign that his feelings were reciprocated. But she simply stared back at him, her chin wrinkling as she considered his words.

“Although, I suppose, sharing your bed with a creature a lot larger than a Pomeranian might be much more disruptive to your sleep cycle,” he added.

“I might not mind the interruption,” she said finally, her voice low and breathy, her eyes still locked on his.

“Even from your defiant, alien-chasing, nutjob of a partner?”

“Do you mean my incredibly tenacious, intelligent, and loyal partner for whom I might just harbor similar feelings?”

"Do you think Queequeg would approve?" he asked.

"Let's find out," she said. Before he could question her, Scully's lips were pressed against his. She tasted like tannin-rich wine but also something deeper and more Scully-like: warm and tangy with other unidentifiable undertones that he could drink from his whole life and never get enough of.

He took her wine glass from her and placed it next to his on the coffee table. With both hands free, she felt her way up his arms to frame his face. His own hands wandered wildly, up her back, through her hair, on her soft and tender cheeks. She opened her mouth to him and he tasted her tongue with his. He felt his body responding to her kiss—and judging on how she was squirming and shifting her hips towards him, he knew she was responding as well.

Just as he was about to slip a hand up and underneath her feather-soft sweater to caress the even softer skin underneath, he heard a low, deep growl off in the distance.

He pulled away and faced Scully, puzzled.

“That couldn’t be—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I heard it, too. I think my neighbors down the hall got an English bulldog. It’s not a ghost.”

“Good enough for me.”

“I should kiss you more often if it gets you to agree so easily.” She smiled at him, inching even closer on the couch.

“I think you should test that theory, Agent Scully.”

She leaned in again. This time, there were no howls or growls interrupting them.

#xfiles #the x files #txf #msr #x files #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #poang pals

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waynes-multiverse · 9 months ago

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Polaris – Chapter 2

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, flashbacks to past relationships, awkwardness, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Jenny and Cassie should come with their own warning 😂 Probably the lightest chapter of this series. Just some getting-to-know fun (& tons of awkwardness on all sides). Enjoy the peace while it lasts 😉

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses

Motel coffee sucked. It was a well-known, globally accepted fact.

You had tasted enough of those in your career to know it wasn’t even worth a try at this point. Thus, finding a good source of caffeine became sort of an adventurous challenge on every work trip. Back in Houston, you had your spot and the server knew your order by heart. Here, in Helena, you were new and still had to navigate your way around.

In search of a decent cup, you passed a sign on the highway and entered the Blue Fox Diner. It was a bit on the outskirts of town, but, frankly, you had no idea where the border truly ended. Everything was damn far apart from one another, the only houses which adjoined were the ones on Main Street USA. That was it.

The diner was bright and comfy, giving you an immediate welcoming feeling of home-cooked food and a good roast. Your first sip of black, delicious liquid confirmed it – this was your spot.

“Special Agent Y/L/N?”

Your head snapped up from your cup of joe to a female voice, recognizing the blonde deputy from the Sheriff’s Department yesterday.

“Deputy Jenny Hoyt, right?” You gave her and her friend a smile as the two women sat across from each other in a booth by the big window. You could tell by their curious and mischievous looks that your spectacular entrance wasn’t lost on them.

Great…

“Uh, yeah. You wanna sit with us? Heard you’re staying for that serial killer case,” Jenny said and offered you a seat next to her.

“Sure.” You accepted her invitation without hesitance, knowing you had to get over the awkwardness at some point. After all, you had to work together, and you wanted to get it out of the way rather sooner than later. How did you so gloriously fuck this up in the first place? You usually were professionalism personified – someone J. Edgar Hoover would’ve been proud of.

Right. Beau. There was your answer.

“Cassie Dewell,” the other woman introduced herself and shook your hand as you slid into the leather seat next to Jenny. “I’m a private investigator in town. Special Agent Y/L/N, was it?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve passed by your agency. Nice to meet you,” you said, smiling. “And Y/N is fine.”

“So, how do you like Helena so far?” Cassie asked curiously, although you caught the underlying question between the polite smiles. ‘How do you like our sheriff so far?’

However, you weren’t going to make this easy for them. “Well, uhm, not seen much aside from my motel, the Sheriff’s Department, and this diner. Coffee’s great, though.”

“Leave it to Donno to brew a decent pot,” Jenny muttered with a bitter huff and rolled her eyes.

You threw her an inquisitive look, partially amused. “You don’t seem to be a fan.”

“Oh, it’s about the owner, Tonya. Jenny doesn’t like her,” Cassie explained.

“Then, why exactly are you here?” You were happy the conversation steered clear of you. For now. You knew this bliss and peace wouldn’t last forever. They were just warming you up for the Spanish Inquisition.

“To keep an eye on her. She used to work for a cartel,” Jenny replied.

“Before she went legit and became a real estate agent,” Cassie added.

“Legit my ass,” the blonde huffed. “Pretty sure she stole those fifteen million…”

“She did help us with Gigi,” Cassie countered, which didn’t seem to convince the blonde too much. “And that whole Avery situation.”

“Well, you know, you could always tip off a rivaling cartel. Might get rid of your problem,” you suggested jokingly. “I have a few contacts.”

Jenny’s lips curved into a delighted grin. “I like that idea.”

Cassie snorted, laughing. “Yeah, nice.”

“So… you and Beau are… dating?” Jenny questioned quite forward.

And there it was. The one you’d been waiting for. You sighed internally.

“Jenny!” Cassie chided and threw her friend a look over her directness as the blonde mouthed back an innocent “What?”

Your cheeks blushed slightly, but you were all about being direct as well. You cleared your throat, tapping your nails on the table. “It’s fine. After my more than embarrassing entrance, I deserve the third degree.”

“Good answer.” Jenny smiled encouragingly, making you feel a little more at ease. They weren’t aiming to claw your eyes out; they were just curious about you. If the roles were reversed, you’d be as well.

“And it wasn’t that embarrassing,” Cassie placated your nerves. “Trust us, me and Jenny had our fair share of drama. You’re good.”

“Well, I’m glad, I guess…” You let out a relieved chuckle, hoping you wouldn’t stay the small town gossip for long. “And, uh, to answer your question: No, we’re not dating. He’s a nice guy, but it’s nothing like that. We just go way back, and I guess old habits die hard.”

And boy, was that true. Beau and you had once been inseparable. It still felt weird to think about that now you weren’t and hadn’t been for a while. Your heart still ached and longed all the same. That stupid, useless feeling of missing him. He was cut out of your soul, but the phantom pain remained.

Jenny nodded and shared a look with Cassie. “Honest. I like it.”

“Me too.” Cassie’s mouth formed a smile of agreement and reassurance. “So, how long have you guys known each other?”

That was when the cop portion of your chat started. You hadn’t expected anything less, but you were determined to keep it professional and, most of all, shallow. Chitchat and oversharing were more Beau’s territory, but it certainly wasn’t yours.

“About ten years.”

Jenny nodded pensively, thinking about her next question. “You worked a cartel case together, right?”

“Oh, a few cases over the years, actually. I’m stationed at the FBI field office in Houston. Used to work Narcotics before switching to Major Crimes,” you said.

“Hence the serial killer here,” Jenny filled in.

“Can’t believe we’ve got another one,” Cassie remarked with a huff, shaking her head into her coffee cup.

“Oh yeah, right! Heard about the Bleeding Hearts Killer at that campsite.”

You remembered a newspaper article about it. Occasionally, you did still check up on your ex like every sane person would. You even followed him on Social Media, although all he ever posted about was fucking trout fishing. But that same news article had also informed you about Beau leaving his early retirement in the rearview mirror, being referenced as the acting sheriff on the case. It almost seemed like a weird coincidence that one of your active cases would lead you right to him not long after. Cosmic jokes and such.

“Yeah, Sunny and Buck Barnes,” Cassie provided.

“Cassie is actually dating their son,” Jenny told you, smirking at her friend.

“Yeah, we’re not that official yet,” Cassie deflected but noticeably blushed. “You guys need any help with your serial killer?”

Jenny looked at you, knowing you were the one who called the shots now.

Nodding, you twitched your shoulders. “Sure. The more the merrier. More female eyes might even help, considering we’re probably dealing with a woman.”

Jenny cocked a brow. “A female serial killer?”

“It’s rare, but our profiler sure thinks so. As do I,” you confirmed.

“Oh, this just got interesting.” Cassie grinned, intrigued. “We sure never had that one before.”

“No, we did not,” Jenny reiterated, chuckling.

“What didn’t we have?”

Beau’s gravelly voice startled you from behind, but you tried not to let it show. Of course, you’d run into him. It was a small town, after all, and this diner was probably the only place to get good coffee. Avoiding him was not only improbable, but it was an impossibility.

Beau was a good man. But the truth was that he was more than the Southern-charming, bad-dad-jokes, never-shutting-up sheriff everyone had grown to love in Montana. There was another side to him. A side that defied authority, broke rules, and caused trouble. A side you knew better than anyone.

“Female serial killer,” Jenny supplied with a grin.

“Really? A woman?” Baffled, the green-eyed sheriff lifted a brow and looked at you.

“Why, you think a woman can’t do it?” Cassie challenged him with a teasing grin. You knew there was a reason why you immediately took a liking to her.

You watched Beau purse his lips as he struggled for an answer. You had a feeling he had to do that a lot with these two. It almost seemed unfair.

“No, women can do murder just fine. Especially you three,” Beau retorted and then circled the booth with his finger, sipping his coffee. “The three of you bonding is my nightmare.”

“Oh, c‘ mon.” Jenny snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, we’re harmless,” Cassie added.

“Right… Who are you tryna fool here, huh?” Beau chuckled and scratched his beard. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Sure, hop in,” Cassie said and offered up the seat next to her.

“Yeah, I was about to head out anyway. Have to call my supervisor with an update,” you excused quickly and stood up before Beau even sat down. “By the way, I have eight boxes of files in my trunk. It’s gonna be a fun afternoon for us.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” Beau said, trying to remain professional, even though you could tell he was bothered by your abrupt exit.

You, however, weren’t ready to face him yet and spend a whole afternoon with him. You needed more time… and space. Which was hard, considering you two had to work a case together.

Hard but not impossible.

“Oh, uh, Beau, that’s not necessary. Cassie offered to help, so we have enough hands on deck for now,” you said innocently and tried to hide your astute smile as best as possible. “I don’t wanna keep you from your sheriff duties. I saw the giant pile of files on your desk. But I’ll let you know when we need you.”

Admittedly, that was a little mean. You knew how much that man hated paperwork.

Defeatedly, Beau pursed his lips and overplayed his loss with a sour smile. “Yup, alright… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You grinned and didn’t care he knew exactly what you were doing.

“Hey, Y/N, you know, uh… it’s kind of a tradition to buy a round of tequila when you first arrive in town,” Cassie noted with a smug smile.

You matched it, amused, although you could smell an ambush from a mile away. “Oh, yeah? Well, that’s a tradition I can get behind. Where and when?”

“Tonight? Bar called Boot Heel around eight o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” you accepted the invitation. “But just a heads-up, pouring tequila into me isn’t going to make me open up more.”

“Really isn’t,” Beau confirmed wryly.

“Dammit,” Cassie sighed in feigned disappointment but grinned nevertheless.

Jenny coolly shrugged it off. “Was worth a shot.”

Beau watched you leave with dread in his heart. As soon as the glass door fell closed behind you, he let out a longing sigh.

“Alright, what did you do?” Jenny’s voice ripped him from his thoughts. The blonde crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow.

He had almost forgotten they were here, too.

“Yeah, she’s been barely here twenty-four hours. That’s fast, even for you,” Cassie chimed in with a teasing smile.

“Okay, I didn’t do anything, alright?” Beau defended with a creased brow and a bark in his voice, but his curiosity soon got the best of him. He leaned in closer, resting his elbows on the table. “Why? Did she say somethin’?”

“Yeah, he stepped in it,” Cassie commented dryly and looked straight at Jenny, taking his question as a confirmation of their theory.

“Yup.”

Beau rolled his green eyes, his patience already thin after the sleepless night he had. “Alright, did she say something to you guys or not?”

Cassie sighed. “No, she was very… courteous.”

Jenny nodded in agreement and shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, she kept it professional. Said you were nice.”

Beau felt a surge of relief. “Well, that’s good, right?” he asked but watched both women shake their heads with pursed lips. “It’s not-… it’s not good?”

“Nope.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jenny retorted, “You don’t wanna be called nice. Not in that way, at least.”

“I don’t?” Beau cocked his eyebrow at the two, feeling rather confused at this point. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Depends on what you did there, cowboy,” Cassie taunted him with a grin, which was mirrored by Jenny.

“Oh, I’m not telling you guys,” Beau huffed, shaking his head. Contrary to popular belief, he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“You’re not talking for once?” Teasingly, Cassie popped an eyebrow at him.

“Must be bad then,” Jenny finished the thought. “Did you-, you know… cheat with her on Carla?”

Perplexed and slightly offended, Beau furrowed his brow. “What? No! Nothing like that. Carla and I were already separated. As in papers served and signed… I’m a very loyal-commitment kinda guy, alright?”

Beau didn’t want to admit his answer might have been a slight overcompensation on his part. While it’s true that he never cheated and would’ve never even considered it, he wasn’t without faults, either. There had been certain feelings towards you fermenting in his stomach, slowly but surely festering in his heart before he even knew what was happening and could put an end to it.

“That sounds like she was your rebound,” Jenny pointed out.

“Yeah, and casual,” Cassie threw in.

“No, it was nothing casual, alright? And she wasn’t my rebound,” Beau replied with an exhaustive breath. Jesus, did you get the third degree as well? At this rate, he should consider himself lucky if you were still in town by tomorrow. His head was spinning. “I mean, if she was my rebound, I was hers, too.”

Dammit, he said too much. He knew the two women would take that piece of information and run with it over the mountains of Montana, probably even making it over the border to goddamn Canada.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jenny questioned as expected. “Is she married? I saw the ring on her finger.”

“Yeah, looked like a wedding band,” Cassie mused.

“Okay, Sherlock and Watson, enough, alright? She’s not married,” Beau replied, but only to save both your reputations. “It’s a sentimental thing. There’s a lot of history there.”

“What kinda history?” Jenny’s knitted brow practically stared at him.

Beau grew tired of their interrogation and dragged a palm over his face, leaning back in his seat. “It’s complicated.”

The two women then shared an inquiring look that held an entire conversation, knowing their interview had run its course. Beau wouldn’t answer any more of their questions.

“Want our advice?” Cassie offered.

Beau hesitated for a moment, puckering his lips in thought. He was desperate, and they could smell it like coyotes. “Alright, lay it on me. What d’you got?”

“Nothing.” Cassie twitched her shoulders and met his annoyed glare with a pleased smile.

“Yeah, see, you actually have to tell us first what happened before we can help you,” Jenny elaborated.

“Alright, I’m done,” Beau said frustratedly, tapping his knuckles on the table once as he rose from his seat.

“Oh, Beau, c’mon, we’re just messing with you.” Cassie chuckled softly and looked at him apologetically. “Fine, you want our advice? Apologize.”

“For whatever you’ve done,” Jenny added.

Pensively, Beau nodded and clicked his tongue. “What if I’ve done that already?”

“Do it again,” Jenny advised simply. “Until she hears you.”

“Yeah, get down on your knees, you know,” Cassie deadpanned. But as Beau suspiciously eyed her at the particular word choice, she burst into laughter.

“Nice.“ Jenny joined in, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as the two clinked their coffee mugs together for a toast to their cleverness.

Beau chuckled out of sheer uncomfortableness, his cheeks flushing embarrassingly red. “Oh, you two are hilarious… I’m heading to work,” he grumbled. “You know, you might wanna join me if you wanna keep your job, Hoyt.”

With a sigh that resembled a yawn, you stretched your shoulders and spine as you got up from the uncomfortable wooden chair in the Sheriff’s Department. You checked your watch and noticed it was already past 2pm.

“Alright… you guys want something for lunch? I’m buying.”

Technically, the government was buying, but you would take any chance you could get to make yourself a little more popular with your colleagues. Jenny, Cassie, and Deputy Poppernak (who told you to call him Mo and started looking you in the eyes again after you brought him a sandwich and a coffee this morning) then gave you their lunch orders, and most importantly, where to get it. What you didn’t expect, though, was Beau appearing behind you out of nowhere after he had locked himself (pun intended) in his office all day and had given you your requested space.

That courtesy apparently was over.

“I’ll come with you,” Beau announced. And although his facial expression resembled a friendly, soft Golden Retriever, you detected the stern bite in his voice. He wasn’t going to be cast aside again.

Stubborn as you were, you still had to try.

“Oh, you don’t hav–,” you tried to interject, but he swiftly waved you off.

“Nonsense. You can’t carry all that alone. I’ll help. Part of the sheriff duties,” he said in his most neighborly tone and grinned triumphantly at you, beaming with Southern chivalry.

You huffed a sigh. Great…

Ignoring Beau Arlen was like trying to avoid air – it was impossible unless you planned on suffocating. Not even a fast pace could get him out of breath enough to stop pestering you. His voice trickled like slow poison into your mind. One of these days, it would infect your heart and destroy your defenses.

“Y/N, hey, can you slow down a little? I didn’t bring my marathon shoes to work, alright? Don’t make me write you a ticket for speeding!” Beau huffed behind you in a half-joking tone, chuckling at his own wit. “C’mon, I just wanna talk. Lord knows you already had your fun today.”

With a heavy sigh, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him on the sidewalk, Beau almost crashing into you. He clearly hadn’t expected you to actually listen to him.

With a fierce glare in your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Look, I’ve got nothing left to say to you, okay? Can we just keep this civil?”

Beau pursed his lips but quickly recovered, offering you a charmingly desperate smile. “Well, lucky for you, you would just have to listen.”

You rolled your eyes and started marching ahead again, feeling Beau hot on your trail.

“Y/N, c’mon!”

“Dad?”

At that, both you and Beau spun around, recognizing the voice in an instant as Emily walked out of a shop.

Beau’s face immediately lit up. He gave her a tight hug, kissing her temple. “Hey, kid.”

“Aunt Y/N?” Emily’s face tilted in surprise, brow knitting as she noticed you and left her father’s arms. She greeted you with a bright sunshine smile.

“Hey, Em,” you said and happily mirrored her smile. You had always loved that girl since she was little. Something she wasn’t anymore. It had been a while since you’d last seen her. “Wow, look at you. You’re all grown. You look like you’re about ready to head off to college.”

“Don’t remind me,” Beau mumbled with a sigh next to you.

“Yes, please don’t make him cry,” Emily begged you, chuckling, but her look was still pleadingly serious. It made you laugh. You remembered how protective Beau was of her. It was endearingly sweet, which made it a little harder to be furious with him. “What are you doing in Montana? Are you visiting Dad?”

“Oh, uh, I’m here for a case, actually,” you replied, swallowing, and shot Beau a quick glance to check how much you were allowed to share.

“What kinda case?” Her brow furrowed as she looked at her dad with concern. It broke your heart a little to know that, whenever you were involved, Emily thought her father was in danger.

“Em,” Beau warned her softly.

You had figured he still refrained from talking about work with his family, not wanting them to worry unnecessarily. After what his daughter had been through this summer, you couldn’t really blame him.

“Right, sorry,” she said meekly and bit the inside of her lip.

“Beau?”

Every molecule in your body shuddered at the sound of that voice. God, you so didn’t want to do this right now. The last time you’d seen Carla, it didn’t end well. If you could, you’d teleport yourself somewhere else – preferably Hawaii.

Beam me up, Scotty!

Beau flashed you a glance over his shoulder that said pretty much the same thing – shit. With a thick swallow, he angled his face toward his ex-wife and forced an awkward smile to his lips.

“Hey,” he rasped, his throat drier than the Death Valley.

“Y/N?” As soon as Carla spied you, her brow arched and her features turned sinister. The unhappy surprise of finding you here was written all over her face. And if it hadn’t been, her words soon made her feelings for you abundantly clear. “What are you doing here? Wrecking more homes? At least you’re wearing clothes this time that don’t belong to my ex-husband.”

Yup. You hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but that even exceeded your expectations. You gaped at her, a bit speechless. Even Beau seemed temporarily at a loss for words and was taken aback. Only Emily looked the most upset and voiced it, too.

“Mom! Really?!”

Carla then looked apologetically at her daughter, aware of her inappropriate comment, her mouth falling open in shame. You knew it was a knee-jerk reaction.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you retorted. As you spun around, you glanced up at Beau and touched his shoulder comfortingly, letting him know you were still here, even when you were mad as hell at him. “Call me when you’re finished here. Or if you need an alibi…” you muttered into his ear in passing.

“I’m coming with you,” Emily announced with a scowl over her shoulder at her mother. She hopped next to you and looped her arm through yours, following you inside the restaurant.

As soon as you and his daughter were out of sight, Beau glowered at his ex-wife and shook his head. “Really, Carla? Was that necessary? You know nothing ever happened when we were married.”

“I know, I know,” Carla agreed and sighed, clasping her temples. “I’m sorry. I really am… It just came out. I guess it’s just old wounds, you know? I was surprised to see her here.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Beau bobbed his head in understanding, smacking his lips. He hated everything about this and knew he could only blame himself for it. “I mean, c’mon, you two used to be friends once, right? What happened? You’d think after what you went through with Avery, you’d have a little more compassion for what she’s gone through.”

Carla pursed her lips and bit the insides of her cheeks, surely stifling a fiery comment. “You wanna know what happened between us? You did, Beau,” she snapped, but before he could open his mouth to respond, she heaved a sigh and shot him a remorseful look. “But you’re right. I’ll apologize to her later.”

“Thank you,” he said graciously as his shoulders deflated and passed the tension.

“What’s she doing here? Everything okay?” Carla asked, lines of worry etching her brow. It told Beau that she still cared about him, even if it was just a smidge.

“Uh, yeah. Just work. Serial killer,” he replied. Since their eventful summer, Beau tried to be more open and honest, keeping a clear line of communication with his ex. It was a step forward. “Three victims so far.”

“Serial killer? Again?” Carla raised her brow and scoffed. “I guess it’s good I’m bringing Emily back to Houston, then.”

“You still wanna do that?”

A part of him hoped they’d stay because he wanted to stay here. Montana had given him a fresh start. One that was much needed. Houston, on the other hand, was haunted and full of ghosts he didn’t want to face. He had been running from them for a while now, although they were slowly catching up to him.

But he also needed his family, his daughter. He wanted to be a constant in her life, not just a variable.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Carla sighed and looked a bit torn and helpless, which was rare for her. But Avery’s secrecy and death had done quite a number on her, and Beau supposed she was still working through a lot. “What d’you think?”

Beau thought it was ironic she was suddenly asking for his input, considering she didn’t ask for his advice the first time she took their daughter and moved several states away. But he knew better than to say that out loud, especially since he was partially at fault.

Rubbing his beard, your earlier words reverberated in his head. His daughter wasn’t a little kid anymore and would fly the nest soon, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“Maybe we should ask Em what she wants. I mean, she’s almost seventeen. If your work isn’t a factor, then maybe we should let her decide.”

Carla nodded pensively as if she was actually considering it. “Yeah, okay,” she agreed and let out a sentimental sigh. “She’s growing up.”

Beau’s smile carried a drop of sadness. “Yeah, she is.”

Surprisingly, his talk with his ex-wife went better than expected. He just wished things would be as easy with you. All he wanted was just a chance to make it right. He couldn’t screw up another relationship.

“Beau… For the record, I want you to be happy, okay? No matter how, where, or with… who,” Carla told him and gifted him a cordial smile that showed her sincerity.

He appreciated her words. There’d been bad blood between them. Divorce made people bitter, he supposed. But old wounds had to heal eventually, too.

As you stepped outside the restaurant with Emily, you flashed an insecure glance at Carla. You averted your gaze to Beau, holding up a big brown paper bag. “You ready? Got the food.”

Beau checked quickly with his ex-wife, who nodded, letting him know that they were done here.

Carla then turned to you and cleared her throat, and you were sure it took a lot for her to even look at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier.”

You nodded, accepting her apology. You’d never done anything wrong, but the situation was complicated. It was hard on all of you.

“It’s fine. We’re good,” you assured her and gave her a half smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I heard about your husband.”

“Thank you,” she replied courtly and motioned for Emily to follow her. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go.”

“Bye, Dad.” Emily waved at her father.

Beau quietly watched his family saunter down the street before he glanced at you and offered you a clumsy smile. “Well, this went better than expected, right?”

You didn’t share his humor, however, and threw him a dark glare. You spun on your heel and trudged back to the Sheriff’s Department. “I have to get back to work.”

Beau exhaled heavily. This wasn’t how he had imagined his outing with you, wishing for a sign or at least a damn compass to show him the way.

March 2014

“Maybe it was the courier?” Beau suggested as he caught the pigskin before throwing it back to his partner across the desk. Passing the ball had become a ritual, helping them work through their case theories one by one.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Randy shook his head when it was his turn. “What about the maid? She certainly had motive.”

A few more exchanges and tosses back and forth happened before you waltzed into the police station. Randy missed his catch, the football almost flying through the Captain’s window, but you gracefully caught it just in time and placed it securely down on the desk.

“Nice catch,” Beau complimented you, impressed.

“Hi, honey,” your husband greeted you and found your lips, kissing you deeply. You giggled and locked your arms around his neck as he pressed you into the edge of his desk.

“Geez, really? Get a room you two,” Beau huffed jokingly, making both of you laugh enough to stop your make-out session but not enough to detangle yourselves from each other.

“We’re newlyweds. We’re supposed to make you sick and scratch your eyes out,” Randy quipped with a grin.

Smiling warmly, Beau shook his head at the two of you. “You got married eight months ago. When’s that honeymoon phase ending, huh?”

“Never,” both of you replied in unison and started kissing again, causing Beau’s eyes to roll back.

“God help me…” He sighed dramatically.

His sigh of exhaustion was soon joined by a second one. “Ugh, again?” Carla asked as she stepped into the station and tilted her head at you and your husband.

“Yeah,” Beau confirmed, amused, and kissed his wife’s cheek. “How did that court case go?”

Carla exhaled a breath of fatigued annoyance. “Y/N’s buying drinks tonight. Thanks to her Oscar-worthy performance on the stand,” she replied as you grinned winningly at her. The two of you had a deal – whoever won a court case was inviting the other for consolation drinks. “You know, I’ve never seen someone so convincingly fake-cry during cross.”

“You’re welcome.” You smirked slyly. “My high school drama teacher taught me that. I think he would’ve been proud of me today. Those were real tears, you know?”

“Oh, the jury certainly thought so.” Carla laughed bitterly.

“So you lost?” Beau glanced at his wife. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

Carla arched an eyebrow and knowingly crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you, Beau?”

“Nah, not really.” He laughed and said, “You did defend a tweaker who killed three people over a little bag of meth, so…”

“Well, I know better than to argue with two cops and a federal agent over the rights of American citizens,” Carla fired back.

Beau snorted in amusement. “Wow, okay. Y/N really pissed you off, huh?”

“Again, you’re welcome.” You beamed with self-satisfaction.

“Oh, you both are pissing me off,” Carla retorted jokingly and then looked at you, smiling. “I gotta get back to the office. I’ll see you at the bar.” She then turned to her husband, pointing a finger at him. “And I’ll see you at home.”

Beau leaned in to kiss his wife goodbye, but Carla already rushed out of the station before he got a chance. He heaved a small sigh, his eyes drifting to Randy and you as you giggled like two lovesick teenagers.

“I gotta get back to work, too,” you said as you withdrew from your husband’s lips. But then you noticed an opened case folder on Randy’s desk. Curiously, you tiptoed up and spied over his shoulder to get a better look at it. “Unless you two got something fun here…”

“Ay, hands off! That ain’t your jurisdiction,” Beau warned you playfully and stopped short of batting your hand away.

“C’mon, we’re stuck. She might be able to help,” Randy interjected with an innocent shrug and a puppy dog look.

Beau heaved an exasperated sigh and then smiled challengingly at you. “Alright, what d’you think, Special Agent Y/L/N?”

Grabbing the file, you leafed through it for a moment and then mused, “Hmm, couldn’t have been the maid. Her schedule doesn’t match time of death. But maybe it was the courier? There’s a theft ring hitting several states. They use bike couriers.”

Beau’s smile widened to a triumphant grin as he pointed a finger at his partner. “Ha! That’s what I said.”

“Alright.” Your husband groaned defeatedly. “Let’s check it out.”

“Oh, now you suddenly want to, huh? After the wife said it? That hurts, man,” Beau teased.

Randy shrugged smugly. “Yeah, well, she’s a lot smarter than you.”

Beau pursed his lips and nodded, hiding his smirk of amusement. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Well, you guys have fun with this,” you said and kissed your husband’s lips one last time. “I have to get back to work. The tweaker Carla defended gave up his supplier in Brownsville. The DEA wants me to come down to Matamoros with them tomorrow. They think the guy is Gulf Cartel.”

Randy furrowed his brow, and you could see the concern shimmering in his eyes. “How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks maybe?” You shrugged, not knowing exactly how long assignments sometimes could last. Worst case, you could even be undercover for a couple of months, and your husband knew that.

“So, we’re gonna have fun tonight?” Randy smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, resting his palms on your hips as he pulled you closer.

You grinned smugly. “You bet we are, baby. Bring the handcuffs home.”

“Guys, c’mon, I’m standing right here,” Beau complained and threw his arms up, making both of you laugh and blush.

“Alright, be careful,” Randy reminded you with a peck on your lips.

You nodded and then turned to Beau. “You’re gonna protect my boy here while I’m gone, Arlen? Have his back?”

“Yes, ma’am. With my life. Promise,” Beau said and smiled at you reassuringly, putting you at ease before you walked out of the station.

Randy let out a worried sigh as he watched you leave. He looked up when Beau patted his shoulder in comfort.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a tough one,” Beau said in an attempt to calm his partner’s nerves.

“Yeah, she is,” Randy agreed quietly before his teasing nature returned. He grinned up at him and quipped, “You couldn’t handle her.”

“Sure, I could! Have you met Carla?” Beau retorted as both of them fell back into a brotherly banter. “Trust me, once your sickening honeymoon phase wears off, you’re gonna be right where I am.”

“What, happily unhappy?” Randy sassed and cocked an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Beau replied wryly, clicking his tongue.

“Nah, man, that’s not me and Y/N,” Randy stated with a surefire grin.

“Alright, lover boy, let’s put our courier in the hot seat. C’mon,” Beau grunted with a roll of his eyes and brushed off his feelings on the subject, although he began to doubt his own statement. He was admittedly a bit jealous of his partner’s relationship.

Maybe some couples were just happier than him and Carla.

Beau tossed the old football into the air and caught it again. With a thoughtful sigh, he placed it on his desk and sunk back into his chair, his palm still resting on the ball.

“You were right, man. Who would’ve thought…” The sheriff clicked his tongue. A knock on the door ripped him from his trance, his green eyes darting to the visitor.

Jenny carefully peeked her head inside and checked on him, “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured her. He didn’t bother to form a smile, though.

She pursed her lips, clearly not believing him, but nodded her acceptance. “You wanna join us at the bar? Might give you a chance to talk?”

“Uh, yeah, but you girls go ahead. Still have a few things to finish up here,” Beau said.

“Alright.” Jenny gave him a small smile, but she didn’t leave yet, her hand resting on the doorknob. “You know, when I first saw you with Carla, I thought I had it right. But this-… this is an entirely new look.”

Beau grimaced. “Shut up.”

Jenny laughed lightly. “If you love her, you should tell her.” Beau only shot her a deadpan glare, to which the blonde raised her hands in capitulation. “Alright, just sayin’…” With that, she closed the door behind her again.

Beau’s eyes then landed back on the football on his desk, smacking his lips in thought. Sometimes the guilt was eating him alive, burning him from the inside out like acid.

“You’d be okay with this, right? I know you’d want her to be happy,” he verbalized his thoughts out loud, hoping it would give him some clarity. He wasn’t sure, however, if he was just saying it to alleviate his own guilty conscience and justify his actions.

“I think I could really make her happy, you know? At least, I’d try,” Beau said. Two fingers rubbed his mouth as he spun on his chair and glanced out the window to the dark sky and the stars above. “C’mon, man, I just need one small sign…”

Chapter 3: Pour The Whiskey

More glimpses into the past and maybe some much needed talking coming next week! Let me know all your thoughts in the comments, loves 🤍

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@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen series #beau arlen reader insert #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen fic #big sky #big sky season 3 #big sky fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles x reader

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blackstarchanx3new · 1 month ago

Note

What theme songs would suit the characters of Four Swords? This includes songs that reflect their personalities, relationships, and dynamics with each other. Because I'm curious what you think suits them.

Bro basically asked for my personal playlist lmfao. Link:

Haunted House - After School Surf Club Notion - The Rare Occasions Sugar Pills - IDKHOW Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand Double Life - Pharrell Williams still feel - half alive Ghost - Mystery Skulls Dead Inside - Younger Hunger Why Did I Say Okie Doki? · The Stupendium Ghost Town - Trickle Losing My Mind- Mystery Skulls Dr. Gaster - Shadrow

Green: the perfect pair - beabadoobee Mr. FEAR -SIAMES Vending Machine of Love · The Stupendium Blue: Cold Cold Cold - Cage The Elephant (lmfao) Wild Side - ALI My Way - SIAMES Dancin - Aaron Smith Red: Copycat - CircusP/VocaCircus (This song could also fit Dark haha) The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley Wonderful Nothing - Glass Animals I Only Paint in Red Now - Lydia the Bard / Tony Halliwell Don't Come Crying - TryHardNinja Vio: Out of My League - Fritz and The Tantrums Lone Digger - Caravan Palace A Tear in Space (Airlock) - Glass Animals I’m So Sorry - ImagineDragons Ghost Town - Veorra & The Tech Thieves

Shadow Link: Love Away - SIAMES 505 - Arctic Monkeys Do It All The Time - IDKHOW Rasputin · Majestic Freaking Out - Mystery Skulls GRRRLS · AViVA TERRIBLE THINGS · AXIE Wolf In Sheep's Clothing [REBORN] - Set It Off Alone In The Darkness - SIAMES

Dark Link: Gladiator - Jann Digital Silence - Peter McPoland My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski Christmas Kids - ROAR Loverboy - A-Wall 4:00 A.M. - Taeko Onuki ECHO - Crusher My Ordinary Life-The Living Tombstone Tongues and Teeth - The Crane Wives Villain Stella Jang Cover) · Umbratic Forest

Vaati: Lay all your love on me - ABBA The Wolf - SIAMES How I Learned To Love The Bomb - Glass Animals Enemy - imagine dragons

Ship/dynamic Specific songs:

Vidow: Pork Soda - Glass Animals Heat Waves - Glass Animals Hold Me Tight or Don't - Fall Out Boy The Bird Song - Noah Floersch Sex With A Ghost - Teddy Hyde Neovaii - Crash Snuff out the light - Eartha Kitt Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - Arctic Monkeys (Greenvio and Darkblue also fit this) GreenVio: GIMMIE GIMMIE GIMMIE - Cover by Justine M. Vidoween: Jenny - Studio Killers GreenBlue: No lullaby - SIAMES (Not romantic but symbolic of them both dealing with Link's BS lmfao)

DarkBlue: Knee Socks - Arctic Monkeys (Arctic monkeys just IS their vibe tbh) Dissolve - Absofacto Horns - Bryce Fox This Is Hardcore - Pulp DarkVaati: Too Sweet - Hozier Take me to Church - Hozier Church - Fall Out Boy (IF YOU WERE CHURCH I'D GET ON MAH KNEEES- 😏) Soul on Fire - Mystery Skulls Paralyzed - Mystery Skulls Hide Away (feat. Holly) · Synapson · Holly (We damn well know who's hiding lmfao) Flowers - Dj Quads (Lmfao this one is sad as hell but I can't at all elaborate on why due to spoilers X'D) Toxic - Britney Spears rewrite by Lydia the Bard Me and the Devil · Soap&Skin (Could also be Vidow) DarkVio: I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend - Cameron Hayes (This just is THE DarkVio song as far as I'm concerned, the intense as hell almost manic pining specifically haha.) Mixed Messages - Tom C (The question is who's "Dad" is getting punched in the dick...)

DarkShadow: From the Start - GoodKid Cover (One Sided on Shadow's part.) Brothers -SIAMÉS

FSR In general coded songs:

The Walker - Fitz and The Tantrums Rhinestone Eyes - Gorillaz A Good Song Never Dies - Saint Motel The Future - Mystery Skulls Goya no Machiawase - Hello Sleepwalkers Kick back - Kenshi Yonezu Plastic Love - Mariya Takeuchi Blink Gone - BL8M, AKUGETSU Hammer Song To Itami No Tou · BUMP OF CHICKEN Tame Impala - Borderline Stay With Me · Miki Matsubara Curses · The Crane Wives The Rules - Hoosiers dumb dumb · mazie Coffee · Jack Stauber's Micropop Who Is She ? · I Monster Very Good Bad Thing - Mother Mother

This one's straight up Four Swords Returns Again coded but I'd be a fool not to include: The Fine Print · The Stupendium

Okay I'mma stop there for now haha. but I'm sure I'm missing stuff. XD

Hopfully I introduced some people to their new fave songs!!! I'd recommend all of these.

#fsr #four swords returns #four swords returns au #four swords adventures #four swords manga #loz fsr au #four swords #loz #dark link #shadow link #red link #blue link #fsa #vaati #vaati the wind mage #fs link #green link #link loz

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unremarkablehouse · 7 months ago

Text

The Mulder Manual Ch 4

Mature | NSFW | WC 2200 | AO3 | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Summary: Mulder and Scully go on a double date, fluff and nonsense ensues.

Notes: sorry for the delays on this chapter and forgive and typos or grammatical errors.

Excerpt:

Dressed in a blue cashmere sweater over a collared shirt and his dark blue jeans, Fox Mulder looked like he just stepped out of a catalog shoot. As he knocked on the front door of Scully’s motel room he felt butterflies fill his stomach waiting for her to answer. They hadn’t had a chance to go on too many dates before and Mulder was determined to make this night special for her, even if it meant playing nice with Officer Doofus.

Read on AO3

Tagging: @today-in-fic

#the x files #txf #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #txf fanfic #xf fanfic

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solaneceae · 1 year ago

Text

【 𝙿 𝚁 𝙾 𝙹 𝙴 𝙲 𝚃 : 𝙳 𝚄 𝙲 𝙺 𝙻 𝙸 𝙽 𝙶 】 | a QSMP Baghera playlist 🐤

a narrative playlist retracing her story, from her humble origins to Purgatory.

cover art by @Rion_Riots on twitter

⤵️ tracklist under the cut ⤵️

CHAPTER 1: lab rat

a duckling opens her eyes to white tiles and syringes.

Bumblebees are Out - Jack Stauber

A Bird in a Gilded Cage - Alex Niedt

Body - Mother Mother

rises the moon - liana flores

CHAPTER 2: Duckling and Bluebird

a bond is formed between two birds of a feather.

Rule #4 Fish in a Birdcage - Fish in a Birdcage

Two Birds - Regina Spektor

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

Innocence - Madeon

CHAPTER 3: escape!

this little duckling has had enough.

Escapism - Rebecca Sugar

THE KID WHO KEPT RUNNING - Vylet Pony

Shelter - Porter Robinson

We'll Meet Again - The Ink Spots

CHAPTER 4: drifting away

the ocean waves are tall and scary, but she presses on.

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi - Radiohead

Ship in a Bottle - fin

Shackleton - Adam Young

soundscape diary - vylet pony

CHAPTER 5: a new life of music and dirt fountains

she finds new friends. and slowly, she forgets.

Youth - Daughter

Tout Oublier - Angèle

La veriter - KronoMuzik

I Say - Zerator & BagheraJones

CHAPTER 6: [[We Hope You Enjoy The Island :) ]]

you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?)

Fallen Down - Toby Fox

Amnesia was Her Name - Lemon Demon

HEAVEN SAYS. - chart

Clocks - Alex Niedt

CHAPTER 7: binary green and white bears

federation? codes? where am i?

Your Best Friend - Toby Fox

Beware The Friendly Stranger - Boards of Canada

01001010 01000001 01001101 - Red Skies Project

Untrust Us - Crystal Castles

CHAPTER 8: cherished egg

the island has granted me the gift of motherhood.

Daughter - Sleeping at Last

I'm a Survivor - Reba McEntire

Apple Pies and Butterflies - Blue Wednesday

Little Moth - chloe moriondo

CHAPTER 9: petit frère

APLUPLUUUUUU

Anything You Can Do - Bernadette Peters, Tom Wopat

Amor de irmão - Barão Vermelho

Brother - Kodaline

For Forever - Ben Platt

CHAPTER 10: can I call you Bébou?

(gifting furniture is his love language.)

Lemon Boy - Cavetown

Demons Are a Girl's Best Friend - Powerwolf

It's Alright - Mother Mother

Chateau - Angus & Julia Stone

CHAPTER 11: ordo theoritas

call her apollo, because her theories ALWAYS turn out correct.

Cry Babies - cclorox

Touch-Tone Telephone - Lemon Demon

Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Miracle Musical

A Good Song Never Dies - Saint Motel

CHAPTER 12: don't you want to become a leader?

the election arc.

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A - Toby Fox

Blood // Water - grandson (first death: whale)

14.3 Billion Years - Outer Wilds (second death: the tower)

Brutus - The Buttress

Animal Farm - BIBI

CHAPTER 13: There is no escape this time.

a childhood bedroom hidden beneath engine steam.

Everything Stays - Rebecca Sugar

715 - CREEKS - The Nor'easter

Memories - The Midnight

Look who's Inside Again - Bo Burnam

CHAPTER 14: "Pomme reviens... les gosses me manquent."

she waits for things to change. she seeks her origins.

Dear Wormwood - The Oh Hellos

CRT Days - Waveshaper

Implanted Memories - Infinity Frequencies

What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

CHAPTER 15A: P U R G A T 👁️‍🗨️ R Y part I

i don't want to leave. i can finally be myself, here.

Wonderland - Caravan Palace

Misery Meat - Sodikken

Hayloft II - Mother Mother

Chainsaw Girl - Chainsaw Girl

Family - Mother Mother

CHAPTER 15B: P U R G A T 👁️‍🗨️ R Y part II

adios, bolas. i won't leave without her.

Idioteque - Radiohead

Eat Your Young - Hozier

My Friends - Oh Wonder

Goodbye - Bo Burnham

On the Nature of Daylight - Max Richter

#qsmp #baghera jones #qsmp baghera #qsmpfanart #baghera #Spotify

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postmodernbeliever · 9 months ago

Text

Thoroughfare- Fox Mulder x Female Reader

Chapter Five: Two Creams, Two Sugars, and a Little Blood

table of contents <3

if you’d prefer my ao3 | word count: 3,750

TW: mentions of murder details, some slight graphic description.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You were running a little late, which meant you were scatterbrained to the nines. You managed to fall asleep at some point between when Fox left your room and when the rain stopped and you forgot to set your alarm, so now you tore through the motel room like a tornado. You were exhausted, all the residual stress and anxiety of yesterday catching up to you, and you weren’t even dressed by the time your partner came knocking at your door. Bright and early, too- seven in the morning- and he was chipper as a bird. You wondered if he ever slept because you could see the violet shadows that caused his green eyes to glow, but he was in far better shape than you were. You swung the door open and then shut it, realizing you had two rollers sitting matronly atop your head, and you were in a wrinkled dress shirt and pajama pants, squinting without any contacts in. You opened it again, revealing just a sliver of yourself to a bewildered face.

“Woah. Good morning, sunshine,” Fox sing-songed.

You peeked through the crack of the doorway, and he was smiling sweetly at you, holding two paper cups. He nudged the door open to hand you the coffee, which you took gratefully, feeling the crabbiness of caffeine deficiency creeping up already. You were almost jealous of how easy it must be for him to wake up and get ready. His hair was tucked tidily atop his forehead, but he was not dressed in uniform- all he wore was a pair of slacks and a blue button-down, no tie, with the sleeves rolled up. You knew he was smarter for it because the mugginess hit you smack in the face when you opened the door, but you got a whiff of the piney scent he wore and knew he probably rolled out of bed ten minutes ago just looking alright to begin with. How nice would it be to look like that in just a few minutes, needing only a comb and some cologne to make you presentable? If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve seen him wearing something like this on a date, all laid-back, careless, dripping with charm as always…

Visibly flustered, you croaked, “Morning. Thank you,”

“Yeah, no problem. They have a coffee maker in the office. It’s not great, but after last night, I don’t trust any of those shops in town claiming they’ve got the best coffee in Marysville,” Fox joked, “You, uh, you don’t look ready,”

“Sorry,” you winced, “I overslept.”

“It’s okay. They want us down at the M.E.’s office, but we have a little time. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll just be a minute!”

You made him stand outside as you shuffled into a pencil skirt, hoping it was wiser for the weather, and tugged a little cardigan over your creased blouse. You grabbed your makeup pouch and took it with you, hoping he wouldn’t pay much attention to your bare face. He may have seen you last night, but you’d already convinced yourself that it was dark enough to hide anything of notoriety. The agent chuckled when you opened the door again, seeing your arms full with a coat that it was far too hot out for, the coffee, a loose gun and badge, a glasses case, your hairbrush– you looked like you just looted a house of all its most unimportant belongings.

“Let me take that for you,” he stole the coffee back and walked you to the truck parked outside your rooms, opening the door for you. You hopped inside and threw your crap in the backseat, and he slid into the driver’s side, setting your drinks down in the cupholders. He started the truck and gave the engine a minute to warm up, reaching for the Kansas map that you left on the dashboard, but he wasn’t really looking for directions to meet the coroner. He peeked at you in his peripheral, watching as you swiped some kind of sheer powder across your face, smoothing your complexion over. He never noticed the little beauty mark on the bridge of your nose, but now he watched you paint over it, and he wished you wouldn’t. You’ve gotten ready like this before, he could tell; you had the motions down, knowing exactly how not to poke your eyes out with the mascara and not to overdo the blush in the car. When he felt like he’d sufficiently given the engine enough time, he placed the map down between you two on the bench and shifted it into reverse.

“You okay if I start driving?”

You turned to him, mid-lipstick swipe, and you nodded. “Sure. I don’t look like a mess, do I?” Fox admired how you pushed your glasses on, adding, “I forgot about my contacts. I feel like a librarian.”

“No. You look… smart.”

“Wow, thanks,” you giggled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

“Well, who wants to look stupid?”

Yours challenged the flush of his cheeks, and you rolled down the window, letting some of the hot air out of the car. He began to back out of the motel, taking a right onto the main road.

You’d never seen the Midwest in the morning. The sun wasn’t high yet, so everything had a soft, golden tone to it; the wheat fields swayed, lining the street into town, homes croaked on sprawling acres, and street signs were so faded you had to rely on the shapes to conclude the directions they gave. It was silent, only birds and wind. You liked this part of the middle of nowhere. Back in D.C., and even worse in New York, people are everywhere, clogging the streets until they burst, cutting you off and giving you the finger. You can’t get a seat at a restaurant. You have to get put on a list for bestsellers at the library. But out here, life is slow. There’s always room to breathe, and to look up and see actual stars, rather than cloudy, light-polluted skies. Something about that spoke to you. You found yourself thinking that maybe someday when your work was done with law enforcement, and you have some money put away, you could come back out here and buy a little bungalow and live out the rest of your days in a place where you don’t have to worry about running out of space and time. Fox seemed to enjoy the quaintness of it all, too, because he was quiet as a mouse beside you.

Fox drove straight through town, and you finally got a glimpse of what the local life looked like as you passed. There weren’t many men around, but given that it was mainly an agricultural economy down here, they were probably out working on the farms. But there were pretty women in sundresses crawling up and down the streets with coffee cups and big purses, hair done up like it was a Sunday; little kids were scuttling down the sidewalks towards the school near the police station. You spotted Sheriff Hale’s car parked outside the bakery, but no one inside.

“Wonder where all these people were yesterday,” you observed.

“At the crime scene,” your partner answered, shooting you an apologetic glance. “I think we showed up at an unusual time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

You rolled the window up a bit, knowing you were allowing your hair to poof up like yesterday. You settled against the bench seat and took up the map, flipping to the larger scale with the main country road running through. With your finger, you followed it to the county medical examiner's office, which was a whopping sixty miles from Marysville. You knew this place was a blip on the radar, but you had no idea just how far away you were from civilization. Fox’s screw-ups getting you both here had skewed your sense of direction.

“Jeez, we’ve got a while to go. You see this?” You asked, pointing to the location.

Fox glanced over and gave a wry chuckle. “Yeah. Straight shot up. We should get there in a little over an hour if I ignore these speed limits,” he winked, pointing to a sign.

You watched it fly by, announcing the stretch of road was a 35 miles per hour zone, and you smiled. Flopping the map onto the dashboard, you reached for your cup of coffee and took a sip, relishing in the room-temperature taste. It tasted good for about a second, and then it turned sour on your tongue. No cream, no sugar. Your face scrunched up and you smacked your lips. Fox seemed to have his own lightbulb going off, and he kept one hand on the wheel while he reached across your lap to open up the glove compartment. You drew in a short breath as his arm brushed against your thigh, and when he uprighted himself, you huffed in frustration.

“You could’ve swerved us into the field, Fox. Why don’t you let me open the damn thing? I’m sitting right in front of it!”

“Jeez. We’re on the road, aren’t we, Piglet?” he mocked, gesturing for you to look inside. A mess of pink sugar packets and little cream containers littered the compartment, and he giggled, “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee.”

A shameful heat flooded your chest, and you shut your mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

You grabbed two creams and two sugars, and as you stirred them into the chilling coffee with your finger, Fox made a note of how you took it and kept driving. You piped down and watched the scenery go by, all yellow fields and blue sky, and wondered what they might have found regarding Liane’s death. What you were aware of from the case files was the girls were all beaten and penetrated postmortem, but in the last murders, the object of violation wasn’t ever identified. There was no clear definition of the instrument used in the mutilation of their bodies, either. Everything was suspiciously contactless, like whoever was murdering these teenagers never had to lay a hand on them to do it; you weren’t sure how that was possible, and you weren’t convinced it was. Someone had to be committing these crimes. It was just in a way you’d never seen.

You were engrossed in your thoughts when Fox began to slow the car to a stop in the center of the road. You saw his attention being drawn by a dilapidated building on the side of the route– a building that could barely fit twenty people was rotting all over, with an eaten-away roof and rusted windows. You would’ve assumed it to be an abandoned shack if it weren’t for the silver cross nailed to the front door.

“Is that a church?”

“I think so. It’s not on the map.” Fox replied, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey, wait, we have to get to the–”

“I’ll only be a minute. It’s not like anyone’s driving out here anyway.”

You watched the man slip out of the car and trot around the front, heading off the road. You sat for a second, watching him disappear into the overgrown weeds, and a pressure began to inflate in your chest.

“Damn it.”

You unbuckled yourself and hopped out of the car, leaving your door wide open as you followed in his footsteps. You watched the church door close, his hands slipping out of view behind it, and you groaned. You patted your hip to find you forgot to grab your gun, so you prayed to God that these wouldn’t be your last moments alive, stranded in Kansas with Spooky Mulder. You walked up to the door, looking back to check no one was coming on the road, and you huffed, pulling it open. Stepping inside, you instantly felt disgusting. It was dark and windowless, trapping all the heat in a dead building where mold was absolutely growing within the walls. The only light inside poked through holes in the wood where bugs probably had eaten through, and everything was upturned or offset. It looked like people had left in a hurry- there was still a cloth atop the altar, and Bibles were discarded on the six slender pews filling the room. You looked around for Fox, walking further down the aisle when you heard a creaking from somewhere behind you. Turning quickly on your heels, you saw nobody by the door, and then a creak sounded again, this time too quick for you to locate its direction. You slowly turned back towards the alter, and when your eyes caught up with your body, the agent appeared but inches from your face, holding a flashlight and shining it on a creepy expression. You yelped and turned away from him, covering your face.

“Fuck! You scared me, Fox!”

“Peace be with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows, digging into that creepy smile.

“Not funny.”

“What, you don’t enjoy a little blasphemy? I thought you weren’t religious.”

“Not particularly,” you grumbled, “But I don’t like getting snuck up on. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Fox dropped the flashlight and let his expression mold into something much more like himself, and he hummed. “Good to know.”

You pushed past him and stepped up onto the stage, feeling a bit odd. If your father were here, he wouldve insisted you make the sign of the cross and kneel before it, but you haven’t done that in quite a while. Instead, you paced the sinking platform, running your fingers over the dust-covered podium and chairs.

“What do you think happened here?”

“I don’t know. The rapture?” Fox scoffed, picking up a Bible that was hanging split open over the back of a pew, and flipping through the thin pages. “Looks like everyone up and left.”

“Yeah,”

You walked to the back wall, in front of the chairs, where there was a little wooden trapdoor. You tugged it open, fighting with the swollen lumber, and inside was a silver bowl full of what looked like wine, and beside it, a torn-open package of Eucharist.

“Hey, come look at this,” you called for your partner, and he stepped out of the pews to meet you at the altar.

Upon seeing the contents inside the wall, he asked, “What is this, like, a makeshift tabernacle?”

“Might be. But this bowl looks polished, and…” you paused to reach into the Eucharist bag, taking one and popping it into your mouth, “These are fresh, not stale.”

“You think someone’s been back to replace the bread and body?”

Curiously, you dipped your fingertip into the wine, and a violent chill ran down your back. The liquid was a familiar viscosity as it ran down into your palm, staining the creases. You drew the bowl out of the cupboard and carefully raised it to your nose, and a gag rose in your throat.

“That’s not wine,” you choked, “Jesus!”

Fox leaned down to sniff it, catching the metallic warning, and his eyes blew wide with shock. “Blood.”

You put the bowl back inside the cupboard and shut the door, feeling an anxiety swell in your chest. You stared at the brownish-red on your finger and thought of how it once belonged to somebody, and now it was sitting inside an abandoned church. You stumbled back like you were learning to walk, heading down the altar steps and to the pews.

“Can we please get out of here?” You pleaded at Fox, who stood at the tabernacle making faces.

“You know, now that I think of it, the other girls in the file had a loss of blood reported in their autopsies. Each a few pints. I figured it was a result of the mutilation of their chest cavities, but it could be possible that some of the blood was for sacrifice…”

“You think this has to do with the case?”

Fox began to pace, spanning the church from wall to wall as he mused. “Think about it. Whoever’s killing these girls is doing it for some divine purpose, right? What if they’re making sacrifices to God with their blood, the blood of another who’s untainted and innocent as Jesus Christ?”

“Fox–”

“No, seriously, it makes sense! This guy is clearly working in the shadow of Iscariot, and if that guy had a connection to the real Judas, wouldn’t he need to atone for his sins passed down through history? By sacrificing pure blood to God he could be saving himself from damnation in his own twisted way. Maybe his God-fearing devotion drives him to kill, to make up for Judas’ betrayal.”

“But the sacrifice of human blood isn’t exactly Catholic,” you pointed out.

“Sure it is, people drink it every Sunday!”

“Yeah, but that’s not–”

“You were not redeemed with corruptible things as gold and silver, but with the precious blood of Christ, as a lamb unspotted and defiled,” the man recited, “Peter 1:18. Maybe it’s not widley known as human sacrifice, but Christ and the lamb are thought of as one. Maybe this guy is recreating the sacrifice in the hopes that he will be forgiven. Offering up sacrificial lambs to win the favor of Heaven.”

Fox reached to open the tabernacle again, then hesitated. Turning to you, he asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Could you go grab my coffee cup from the truck?”

You looked at his hand on the tabernacle door, and looked to the blood on your palm, and you rolled your eyes in utter disbelief. “Fox, no way.”

“If I had a vile, I’d ask for that, but–”

“You are not going to bring that shit into our rental car!”

“What if this blood belongs to Liane, Ro? We owe it to her to find out what happened. And maybe it isn’t hers, but it’s someone’s, isn’t it? What if he’s already got another victim?”

“We don’t even know if it’s our guy!”

Fox shot you a look that said, You know it is. He wasn’t going to budge, and you knew it. You watched him open the cupboard and take the bowl out, carefully walking it to the table at the altar. Even if you wanted to leave and forget you ever stumbled upon this shithole, you knew he was right. Churches don’t store human blood in silver bowls, and if that belonged to someone who could be in danger or already dead, it was your duty to find out. You let out a stressed groan and hurried out the front door, jogging back to the truck. The sudden sunshine strained your eyes, but even through a squint in both directions on the road, there was still not a soul to be seen out there. You leaned in through the open passenger side door, fished his empty coffee cup from the cupholder, and hurried back inside where the man waited with the bowl in his hands.

“It’s gonna be contaminated,” you nagged.

“Well, we can’t just leave it here. You know that.”

Fox was careful to only pour a little of the blood into the cup, and even more careful not to spill it on you or the mildewed carpet. Once there was an espresso shot’s worth, he tipped the bowl back level and shoved it in the tabernacle, shutting the door tight on it. You fastened the lid onto the cup and held it between two fingers, freaking out just to have it in your grasp. You followed the man down the steps again, and he held the church doors open for you, which you walked through quickly, hoping it would be the last time you ever had to.

“We can get this tested at the county morgue, they can test it alongside Liane’s blood to see if there’s a match,” Fox explained, taking the evidence from your hand as you hopped into the truck.

You placed your dirty hand on the door handle and said, “You’re crazy.”

“We would’ve never found it if I wasn’t.”

He shut your door for you, and then he clambered behind the wheel, placing the blood down beside your coffee cup, which you elected to have no more of. As he started up the engine and remind himself of how many more miles he had to go on the map, you tapped his shoulder. The two of you gazed through the windshield as a little truck with a tow attachment sped past, the first car you’d seen all day. Inside was a pale man, one you didn’t get a good look at, but you saw his dark hair and small eyes, and as he drove by you felt the presence of him like an omen. You remembered how it felt to look at Liane’s cold face, and recognized the feeling as the same. Maybe you were just on edge, but everything about this felt very, very wrong.

“Something’s off about that guy,” Fox scratched his forehead in thought, “Should we follow him?”

“What? No. We’re going to see the medical examiner. Now.”

“Well–”

“Fox, you dragged me into a church and made me put blood into a coffee cup. Drive.”

“You could’ve waited in the car–”

“I said drive!”

Fox raised his palms in surrender and chuckled, shifting the car into gear and pedaling away down the road. You watched the run-down church grow small in the rearview mirror until it disappeared, and you wondered what happened inside. Maybe everyone did get up and leave. Maybe a Mass had gone horribly wrong. Maybe teenagers broke in and trashed the place. Maybe God had come down, or He had brought them up. But of all the theories you could draw, not one of them explained what that blood was doing inside the wall, and even if it was your job, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know. Liane’s face flashed before your eyes as you closed them and slumped in your seat. Fox watched you out of the corner of his eye, and he saw the blood on your finger, and he hoped that you’d come away from this case with more than just resentment for his insane methods. He kept driving, and you kept breathing, and the both of you prayed that the medical examiner hadn’t called the Bureau about the agents who were an hour late for their meeting.

“Woah. Good morning, sunshine,” Fox sing-songed.

Visibly flustered, you croaked, “Morning. Thank you,”

“Sorry,” you winced, “I overslept.”

“It’s okay. They want us down at the M.E.’s office, but we have a little time. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’ll just be a minute!”

“You okay if I start driving?”

“No. You look… smart.”

“Wow, thanks,” you giggled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

“Well, who wants to look stupid?”

Yours challenged the flush of his cheeks, and you rolled down the window, letting some of the hot air out of the car. He began to back out of the motel, taking a right onto the main road.

“Wonder where all these people were yesterday,” you observed.

“At the crime scene,” your partner answered, shooting you an apologetic glance. “I think we showed up at an unusual time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Jeez, we’ve got a while to go. You see this?” You asked, pointing to the location.

Fox glanced over and gave a wry chuckle. “Yeah. Straight shot up. We should get there in a little over an hour if I ignore these speed limits,” he winked, pointing to a sign.

“You could’ve swerved us into the field, Fox. Why don’t you let me open the damn thing? I’m sitting right in front of it!”

A shameful heat flooded your chest, and you shut your mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

“Is that a church?”

“I think so. It’s not on the map.” Fox replied, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey, wait, we have to get to the–”

“I’ll only be a minute. It’s not like anyone’s driving out here anyway.”

“Damn it.”

“Fuck! You scared me, Fox!”

“Peace be with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows, digging into that creepy smile.

“Not funny.”

“What, you don’t enjoy a little blasphemy? I thought you weren’t religious.”

“Not particularly,” you grumbled, “But I don’t like getting snuck up on. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Fox dropped the flashlight and let his expression mold into something much more like himself, and he hummed. “Good to know.”

You pushed past him and stepped up onto the stage, feeling a bit odd. If your father were here, he would've insisted you make the sign of the cross and kneel before it, but you haven’t done that in quite a while. Instead, you paced the sinking platform, running your fingers over the dust-covered podium and chairs.

“What do you think happened here?”

“I don’t know. The rapture?” Fox scoffed, picking up a Bible that was hanging split open over the back of a pew, and flipping through the thin pages. “Looks like everyone up and left.”

“Yeah,”

“Hey, come look at this,” you called for your partner, and he stepped out of the pews to meet you at the altar.

Upon seeing the contents inside the wall, he asked, “What is this, like, a makeshift tabernacle?”

“Might be. But this bowl looks polished, and…” you paused to reach into the Eucharist bag, taking one and popping it into your mouth, “These are fresh, not stale.”

“You think someone’s been back to replace the bread and body?”

“That’s not wine,” you choked, “Jesus!”

Fox leaned down to sniff it, catching the metallic warning, and his eyes blew wide with shock. “Blood.”

“Can we please get out of here?” You pleaded at Fox, who stood at the tabernacle making faces.

“You think this has to do with the case?”

“Fox–”

“But the sacrifice of human blood isn’t exactly Catholic,” you pointed out.

“Sure it is, people drink it every Sunday!”

“Yeah, but that’s not–”

Fox reached to open the tabernacle again, then hesitated. Turning to you, he asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

“What?��

“Could you go grab my coffee cup from the truck?”

You looked at his hand on the tabernacle door, and looked to the blood on your palm, and you rolled your eyes in utter disbelief. “Fox, no way.”

“If I had a vile, I’d ask for that, but–”

“You are not going to bring that shit into our rental car!”

“What if this blood belongs to Liane, Ro? We owe it to her to find out what happened. And maybe it isn’t hers, but it’s someone’s, isn’t it? What if he’s already got another victim?”

“We don’t even know if it’s our guy!”

“It’s gonna be contaminated,” you nagged.

“Well, we can’t just leave it here. You know that.”

You placed your dirty hand on the door handle and said, “You’re crazy.”

“We would’ve never found it if I wasn’t.”

“Something’s off about that guy,” Fox scratched his forehead in thought, “Should we follow him?”

“What? No. We’re going to see the medical examiner. Now.”

“Well–”

“Fox, you dragged me into a church and made me put blood into a coffee cup. Drive.”

“You could’ve waited in the car–”

“I said drive!”

#fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #txf #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder smut #catholiscism #catholic guilt

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fivebrights · 9 months ago

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Emotion Booth | Songs for Stanley, the Narrator, and many of the endings.

An expanded ver of the original fanmix, because I finally got to play TSPUD and it permanently rewired my brain the same way TSP did way back when. Happy 4/27; Let's Begin Again.

▶Listen (Spotify)

(tracklist & annotations under the cut)

[SIDE A] 1. Existential Crisis Hour! (Kilo Kish) [Intro/Confusion Ending] 2. Watch the Show (M. Ward) So tomorrow on your way into work, who will be wearing the emperor's clothes? 3. Soundproof Box (Ami Saraiya and the Outcome) Living behind these walls it feels like living in a soundproof box. 4. You're Alive (ANIMA!) [Apartment Ending] Sidewalk walkers, empty vessels, task completers / Go through the motions, keep repeating. 5. In the Glass (OK Go) [Real Person Ending] I tried to call out to him but the glass was perfect. 6. A.A.A. (Squalloscope) Can you do me a favor? Can you give me one cent for everything that doesn't make sense? 7. Crazy (Gnarls Barkley) [Mariella Ending] I remember when I lost my mind / Even your emotions have an echo in so much space. 8. Vein of Stars (The Flaming Lips) [Zending] They'll glow from above our heads / Nothing there to see you down on your knees. 9. Vertigo (The Guggenheim Grotto) [Powerful Ending] It's not that I fear the fall or crushing my bones / I fear the desire to heed the call of that unknown. 10. Humpty Dumpty (AJR) He said, "Screw it, I'mma smile right through it, and I'll scream when no one's around." 11. Why (Andrew Bird) Why'd you do that? You shouldn't have done that. 12. Complaint Department (Lykke Li) [Countdown Ending] Me oh my your luck seems to be no more / If you want to complain, I'm not the complaint department. 13. The Cruel, the Kind and the Bad (Psapp) [Museum Ending] He's taken all your best years away, but he's all that you can find. 14. The Great Escape (Patrick Watson) [Escape Pod Ending] Looking for a way home, looking for the great escape.

[SIDE B] 15. Good Old Desk (Harry Nilsson) [intro] 16. Honest Feedback (Saint Motel) Of all the illegal ways to take someone's life, there's one just as sharp and it's sharp as a knife / it's called honest feedback. 17. Longform (The Dodos) [Theme for the Memory Zone] To place an installation now for all to come and bring what they think about. 18. Eight Seven (Psapp) Though I call you won't reply / You watch me rooting through each door, you watch me lie. 19. Alive Alone (The Chemical Brothers) [Skip Button Ending] No way of knowing if [he's] ever coming back. 20. Here for Good (Jason Lytle) [Epilogue Ending] I'm here for good. 21. X-Rays (Gomez) We didn't turn it on, but we can't turn it off. 22. Since I Left You (The Avalanches) [Freedom Ending] Since I met you, I found the world so new. 23. The End Has Begun (Loudon Wainwright III) [Figurines Ending] We've been here before, you know the signs / The looks and the language, the gestures, the lines. 24. Helplessness Blues (Fleet Foxes) What's my name, what's my station? Oh, just tell me what I should do. 25. Lonely Town (Vulfpeck) He's the mayor of lonely town, population: one. 26. Hallucinating - Mariachi Ver. (Elohim) [Theme for the Infinite Hole] 27. ICE CREAM FEVER (Tomoyuki Tanaka, FPM) [Secret Disco Ending]

#the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tsp #tspud #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #fanmix #playlist #quick repost since I managed to get back before 4/27 was over in my timezone ayy happy stanley parable day

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peteytheparrot · 8 months ago

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Favorite songs right now? I need some to help me get through my backlog of so so much school work

I AM SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG I JUST KEPT FINDING SONGS I LOVE WHOOPS AHAKHSSJH I should’ve just made a playlist tbh ☠️☠️ Not necessarily my favorite songs right now more of just, music I love ☠️

Favs are near the top but I fucking LOVE all of these so that’s not completely true:

Splinter - Sneaker Pimps (this entire album is AMAZING)

Pork Soda - Glass Animals (GEHEGGRR BAKEBSKR)

Wild West Selfishness - Seahaven (this song is so GAHSGSHS)

My Favorite Color - Citizen (again, this entire album is amazing)

Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths (read The Song Of Achilles after listening to this.. god,, starts fucking sobbing)

Beneath the Brine - The Family Crest (GOD this song gave me chills)

Go To The Light - Murder By Death

Steal Away - Murder By Death

Antes de les Tres - Un Fantasma (this band is SO underrated)

Wolf River - Reignwolf

Son of a Gun - Reignwolf

A Wistful Waltz - Teddy Hyde (lovely band check out more of their music)

S*x With A Ghost - Teddy Hyde (censored because of bots) (this song is so silly I love it sm)

Mamas Gun - Glass Animals (THE ENDING IS SO?? AFAHGHSH)

Everything Moves - Bronze Radio Return

Before You Snap - Yonderboi

Who Are You, Really? - Mikky Ekko

Jimmy, He Whispers - Manchester Orchestra

Last Call - Elliot Smith

Paranoid Android - Radiohead (every Radiohead song is amazing tbh)

Climbing Up The Walls - Radiohead

Life In A Glass House - Radiohead

I Lost Something In The Hills - Sibylle Baier (Good song to fall asleep to, well for me atleast ☠️)

Shoot It Out - 10 Years

Mr. Self Destruct - Nine Inch Nails

Smile Boyo - Vundabar

Alien Blues - Vundabar

A Burning Hill - Mitski

I’m Your Man - Mitski

Duvet - boa

My Time - Bo en

And Also I’m Really Scared - Fox Academy (love this band fr)

Salem - Fox Academy

Lavender Blood - Fox Academy

Vampire Banquet - Fox Academy

Crazy - Gnarls Barkley

My Fault - Sawyer

Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo

Evil Side - The Dirty Nil

Loved - FEiN

So Damn Into You - Vlad Holiday

Dear Dictator - Saint Motel

A Good Song Never Dies - Saint Motel

Dreamland - Glass Animals

Bernadette - IAMX

Disembodied Mind - Sparkbird & Stephan Nance

Priorities - Yot Club

Amen - Amber Run

Susan Smith - Wych Elm

NEW MAGIC WAND - Tyler, The Creator

GONE, GONE / THANK YOU - Tyler, The Creator

The Chattering Lack of Common Sense - Ghost & Pals

Evil Eye - Franz Ferdinand

Dog Problems - The Format

Between the Bars - Chris Garneue

What Else Do I Need - Vast

The Plagues - The Prince Of Egypt

Selfless - The Strokes

Sway - Sarah Cothran

My Alcoholic Friends - The Dresden Dolls

505 - Arctic Monkeys

This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller

Rory - Foxing

#Asks #music #save #< for myself to come back to this ☠️

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muldermuse · 2 years ago

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Your first date? Or your first time with fox mulder 👀👀

Thank you for sending this through!!! I hope it's ok <3

If u have any ideas for Fox Mulder fics/headcanons/aus anything pls send them throuuuuuuugh. I will be forever grateful <3

He’s nervous, Scully has been giving him sly looks throughout the day as he’s been trying his hardest to keep it together. The day has been littered with small mistakes, starting with accidentally throwing his takeaway coffee in the trash to biting his pen and not realising the blue ink had covered his shirt with soaking blotches. He tried to ignore the superstitious voice in his head telling him that the day (and your first date) was determined to go badly.

He asked you out on a date the third time he met you, initially the date was planned to be that week, however, a bout of sickness had made you bed bound. You called to apologise and rescheduled for the same date next week, unfortunately, Fox had a case that had taken him out of town. He called you from his crappy motel; his stomach filled with knots at the thought of letting you down.

Your fingers twisted around the phone cord as you laid on your bed sheet. “You know, I’ve heard some pretty good date cancelling excuses. But travelling to Minnesota to catch a demonic stray dog i-“

He interrupted, “I think you mean, potential werewolf sighting”

His voice made you blush, it always did, you felt the warmth rise up your chest. “Well, I know that Scully thinks it’s something along the stray dog lines.”

He smiled, you made him feel less alone, even in this dusty motel room hundreds of miles away from you- you were making him smile. “I am really sorry to cancel, I’m back on Sunday. I’ll pick you from the apartment at 2?”

***

So, it’s the third attempt at a first date and he’s nervous. He parked outside your apartment at 1:30 and had been building up the courage to go in. He knew that 30 minutes was too early, at 1:40 he thought he may as well wait for ten more minutes. However, at 1:42, he made his way up to your door. He had your coffee order, a pastry and a bunch of lilies gripped nervously in his hand. He thinks about knocking on your door, or should he ring the bell? Before he has time to consider each option more critically, the door opens and there you are.

You take his breath away.

He knows that you’d class what you’re wearing as nothing special, but to him you look incredible as always. You’re slightly more made up than usual, your eye lids dusted with a muted brown and your mascara making your lashes look even longer. Your lip liner and lip gloss combo enhances your mouth and all he can think about in that moment is kissing you. Your hair is down and behind your shoulders; you smile awkwardly at him.

“Oh my god, please tell me I look okay! I’ve spent ages deciding what to wear, at first I chose a dress but then I thought it might be too much and then I de-“. He could tell you were panicked and nervous; just the same as him. He held your hand as he gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume as he said with as much confidence as he could muster, “you look amazing. I’m looking forward to spending the day with you.”

The date is a walk around the park near your apartment, then a trip to a book store which Fox always talks about and then a late lunch at a restaurant you’ve talked about extensively. You’ve been looking forward to it as much as he has. Your previous dates have usually started at 7pm and you’ve been emotionally checked out, or repulsed, by half past.

On the walk, you found out more about his work and how much his career meant to him. He asked you about your job and your future dreams. You noticed that he smiled throughout, looking at you with a grin on his face as he heard you talk about where you wanted to be in five years. In the bookstore, you realised how similar you were as you perused the endless aisles. Seemingly every book you went to pick up he had read or had at home on his shelf.

“I have most of the ones you’re interested in, you could always come round and choose some.”

“Fox, if that’s a way to get me into your apartment and to see your water bed- I swear”. A smirk crossed his face as a red tinge covered his cheeks,

“I mean- can you blame me for trying?”

As you both got more comfortable throughout the date, you noticed both yourself and Fox becoming more flirty with each other. You’d hold his arm when he made you giggle, he’d blush when you got closer to him and he’d intertwine your fingers with his in quiet moments.

***

The restaurant was quietening down, it was the liminal zone between the lunch rush and early diners. The candles were lit on each table despite the sun shining outside, only around a quarter of the tables were full as soft music played. All of a sudden, you seemed to remember that you were on a date with the person you have a crush on and you felt a pang of anxiety hit you. Fox seemed oblivious to your rising nerves as he idly chatted through the menu and ordering water for the table.

He looked so so good today. His hair was perfectly off his face and his smile seemed brighter than it ever had before. Before your thoughts could spiral more about your sudden prick of nervousness, you felt his warm hand cover yours and quell your ill feelings in an instant. His touch grounded you back to the moment. “I’m going to get a bottle of white, is that okay? We can get soda as well if you’d like”.

You moved your hand to hold his fingers with a squeeze, “White is great, thank you”. With his soft eyes and sweet smile in front of you, the nerves seemingly dissipated from your body and you felt a blush creeping up your chest. This was the best date you’d ever been on and you knew in that moment that you had to let him know.

You got a main each and then shared a dessert. The wine was going down easily and you were on your second bottle with no intentions to get a third. The alcohol was coursing through your veins which resulted in a permanent smile being on your face.

“You know” he swiped his spoon through the caramel chocolate mousse in front of you, “you’ve been smiling at me for the past twenty minutes”. He put the spoon in his mouth and winked at you.

“Maybe I’m having a really good time,” you picked up your wine glass and sipped the remaining liquid, “or, maybe it’s the wine.”

He threw his head back with a laugh, “It’s definitely the first one.”

The bill arrived and Fox paid before you could argue, you made a mental note to pay for the second date. The sun was setting as you left the restaurant and before you could step further outside, Fox held your hand tightly in his.

***

“So, this is me…” The conversation had continued to flow as you walked back to your apartment, you took the long route to prolong the time you could spend with him. You both awkwardly stood in front of your front door. Neither of you wanted this night to end. You could invite him inside for a coffee, you could say that your bedroom light was flickering and you would like him to take a look at it. You couldn't end it without a big move and with the liquid courage still in your body; you pressed your lips to his.

You brought your hands up to cup his face as you kissed him. His nose nudged against yours as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer to him as you felt him smile against your lips. The taste of chocolate and sweet caramel still lingered on his lips. His forehead touched yours as your fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes, wordlessly you held his hand as you unlocked your front door and dragged him inside.

“Third times the charm, I guess” He laughed as you locked the door.

#fox mulder #fox mulder x reader #the x files #fox mulder fanfic #fox mulder imagine #the x files fanfic #fox mulder fluff #the x files fluff #the x files fanfiction #david duchovny #fox mulder smut #fox mulder headcanon #fox mulder fanfiction #mulder x reader #agent mulder #mulder #txf #the xfiles #xfiles

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gaytravelinfo · 9 months ago

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Blue Fox Motel - Catskills, NY

Blue Fox Motel | 5670 State Route 97 | Narrowsburg, NY 12764 | +1 845-252-5200 Since its first incarnation in the 50s, our rustic retreat has been a place where city and country foxes alike have gathered. You can find our little boutique motel in the Catskills, at the spot where the meandering Ten Mile River and the breathtaking Delaware River choose to meet. Only two hours drive/100 miles…

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#blue fox motel #blue fox motel catskills #boutique hotel #boutique hotels in the catskills #boutique retro motel #catskills boutique hotels #catskills wedding venue #Gay Catskills #gay new york #gay travel blog #gay travel blogger #gay travel influencer #gay wedding venue #gay weddings in the catskills #narrowsburg new york #New York gay wedding venues #new your gay friendly wedding venue #retro motel

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firstprince-ao3feed · 5 months ago

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Deeper

by crayoncas The room, now coated with darkness felt more alive than it did when they could see each other. If Alex had suddenly found the strength to inch a little closer to Henry, he didn’t have to say it. Soft lines and dim eyes, lit only by the flashes of light coming in from the window, they were free to be themselves, to do what they really wanted. Or College roommates and friends Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox find themselves in a motel room with only ONE bed. Words: 7848, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Alex Claremont-Diaz, Top Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Friends to Lovers, Roommates, There Was Only One Bed, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering via https://ift.tt/xYyiZcQ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #crayoncas

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novankenn · 4 months ago

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More than meets the Eye

Joan was a nervous wreck as Coco escorted her to the small cheap motel she would book a room in every time she needed to be in Vale to relax. Now Joan was relieved that Coco had stepped in and ended the situation with the pair of drunks... but terror still filled her. A terror of being outed. A fear of being harshly judged and ridiculed.

"So I want to say I'm sorry, about earlier." Coco spoke up breaking the silence as the pair continued down the street towards the motel.

Joan gave her a questioning look.

"About upsetting you when you were dancing." Coco expounded. "I just wanted to met you and... well... I know I over stepped and made you uncomfortable."

Joan shook her head and gave Coco a weak smile, before mouthing "Okay."

"I appreciate that." Coco returned the smile.

Silence once again settled between them and the last couple minutes of their journey passed by without any further interactions. Once at the pair was standing outside the Motel's office Joan gave Coco another smile before waving and heading off to her room. Coco bit her lip as she watched Joan's pert derriere sway, but the fashionista was also taking note of the room the young woman stepped into.

"Well it's late, so I should let Vel, Yats, and Fox know I'm camping out for the night." Coco commented to herself as she pulled out her scroll and walked into the Motel's office.

/==/

Jaune was tired when he awoke the next morning, and after a hot shower he took his time carefully repacking the components that allowed him to create his 'Joan' alter-ego. As he finished putting everything back in it's proper place, he checked his scroll. If he didn't hurry he would be late in meeting his team for breakfast.

"I need to get this fixed." Jaune mumbled as the latch to the carry-on sized case that contained 'Joan' wasn't securing properly. Knowing he was getting short on time he placed the case on the floor, pulled out the extendable handle and made his way out the door.

"HEY WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?!" came a loud voice from behind him just as he started to make his way for the stairs. Startled Jaune tripped over his own feet and was sent sprawling to face first to the floor.

"I ASKED YOU..." the voice stopped shouting as Jaune rolled over. His blue eyes going wide as he saw what he could only conclude would be the end of his existence at Beacon... Coco.

Coco's eyes narrowed and she started to take a step forward. She had seen this guy sneaking out of Joan's room with a bag, probably Joan's bag and... she knew him. He was from Beacon. He had tried to help her teammate Velvet. Then she saw the mess of items that had spilt from the case.

Jaune scrambled to his feet, and set about to as quickly as he could gather up the few items that had scattered when he tripped over himself. He wished he could take more time and place everything back properly, but he needed to get away while Coco was hesitating.

Coco's hand lashed out just as Jaune was starting to move away from her. It clamped down rather forcefully upon his wrist. Blue eyes rimmed with fear and centered with a growing rage looked at her.

"Let me go." Jaune spoke slowly. It was all over if Coco talked, but regardless of that. Jaune was in no mood to continue interacting with the fashionista. He hadn't wanted to when he was Joan, and he sure as hell wasn't going to now.

"Explain."

"No."

"Explain. I want to know..."

"Why the fuck should I?" Jaune retorted. "This has nothing to do with you."

"It does now."

"Does it? Why is that?" Jaune asked back as he finally was able to yank himself free of Coco's grasp. "Because I sure as fuck don't see how any of this is of any concern to you."

"You're coming into Vale to be a girl. I would like to know why?"

"Too bad. I need to go." Jaune commented as he started to take a couple steps away.

"If you do, I won't mention this anyone. I'll keep your secret." Coco offered.

"You're no better than Cardin." Jaune snapped. That simple phrase hit Coco like a slap to the face, and before she could recover, Jaune was down the stairs and climbing into a cab.

#rwby #jaune arc #coco adel #cross dressing #undecided pairing #feeling free as someone else #may or may not get updates #a fem!jaune story?#slight gender bending

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scrarefest · 2 years ago

Photo

It’s time for author reveals! We had so much fun this week, and we’re so grateful you joined us for another year of Rare Fest.

If you did enjoy these works, please don’t forget to show these authors some love by hitting that Kudos button and/or leaving some love with a comment. Don’t know what to say? Trust us — a simple “loved this!” or even a string of emojis goes a long way to make fanwork creators feel appreciated.

Without further adieu, let’s rip the blindfold off these amazing works!

Day 1

A Notebook Full of Wigs by jarofspiders

[David & Moira, Not Rated, 5,344]

One night, five year old David discovers that Moira names her wigs. This sparks an obsession that lasts over a decade, acting as a niche source of comfort in David’s increasingly tumultuous life.

***

Finding Her Own Way by StatueintheStone

[Ronnie/Karen, Explicit, 4,812]

When Ronnie turned 24 she headed east away from Regina, putting her past behind her. Hoping to find somewhere she belonged, to find a place where she fit in. A place where she could live the way she wanted, do as she wanted, and be content. She wasn’t interested in anything beyond a hookup, a flirtation, something with no attachments.

Until Karen.

***

Kitchen-wear by bl_anche73

[Ronnie & Patrick, Teen, 4,077]

Patrick hires Ronnie to remodel the kitchen at the cottage.

***

I Walk Through Life by AuthorByNight

[Alexis-centric, Teen, 2,073]

A character study of Alexis through four (platonic) relationships.

***

Father’s Day by coffee_and_glitter

[Stevie & Johnny, General, 733]

Stevie finds a way to let Johnny know how she feels about their relationship.

***

[podfic] coming home to you by hullomoon

[Stevie & David, Stevie & Patrick, Teen, 11:49]

There’s a room in the cottage that’s always ready for her, whenever she needs it.

It’s not a guest room. David and Patrick were very clear on that. The third bedroom is the guest room. But this, this is her room.

There’s Rose Apothecary products in the bathroom, even though she’d still use the drugstore brand if left to her own devices. There’s the old, battered quilt on the foot of the bed that David said didn’t go with the decor, but left it there for her anyway because he knew how much she loved it. There’s even a Sarah McLachan poster on the wall.

There’s a room in the cottage that’s always ready for her, and that’s why she’s definitely not crying on this airplane.

***

Day 2

Perfectly Fine by Meesh

[Jake/Mutt, Explicit, 22,385]

Mutt comes back to Schitt’s Creek for the birth of his brother, Roland Jr. There he meets a handsome stranger who connects with him over hard wood.

***

Blue Kamikazes for the Win by Turkey_Virgin

[Patrick & Rachel, Teen, 1,678]

The Toronto Blue Jays have made the playoffs, and there is only one person Patrick wants to celebrate with, and that person is Rachel. Can that fractured friendship be repaired?

***

Clean or Sloppy? by coffee_and_glitter

[David & Jocelyn, General, 578]

David has to make an uncomfortable confession to Jocelyn.

***

Daddy Issues by goodiecornbread

[David/Clint, Explicit, 1,564]

David calls his father-in-law a Silver Fox, and Clint shows his appreciation.

***

Day 3

Heaven help me, she’s walkin’ away by lizzie_bennetdarcy

[Stevie/Ruth, Teen, 7,247]

“Why would I need two rooms?” Does Ruth usually get herself two rooms? Is that something she should be doing, for thoroughness or something?

“Because there are two of us?”

Wait. What?

Stevie has one more motel to hit before she can take a vacation, and this time Ruth is tagging along. The problem is, Stevie has fallen into old habits and booked the honeymoon suite.

***

Proud Mary by AuthorByNight

[Ronnie-centric, Teen, 4,747]

It’s 1997, and Veronica “Ronnie” Lee is in a small town for business. What she doesn’t expect is to stay - or for a fourteen-year-old rich kid to help steer her in the right direction.

***

i’ll stick by your side, if you’ll be right by mine by apothecarose

[Patrick & Twyla, General, 4,130]

Patrick is new in town and is immediately welcomed and befriended by Twyla. They bond over their crushes on the Rose siblings, baseball, and performing in Cabaret and become best friends.

***

Survivable by Turkey_Virgin

[Stevie & David, Teen, 1,450]

What did Stevie do for those three days David was missing? It was during those three days Stevie realizes just what David does mean to her.

***

riptide rush by fakingsincerity

[Alexis & David, Teen, 1,253]

***

(I Can’t Keep) Quiet (Any Longer) by DoctorMiguel-animal-lover

[Jake/Mutt, Mature, 1,220]

Jake’s just innocently dropping off Mutt’s new table, when he hears something he probably isn’t meant to overhear and he can’t help but listen in..

Jake lifts the table down from the truck with a grunt. There’s no sign of Mutt waiting for him, but the barn door is open wide so he’s obviously expected.

He carries the table over to the barn, halting just outside, ready to call out Mutt’s name, when..

“Jake.”

..His name is a near breathless sigh, followed by a whimper.

***

Day 4

catch you when you fall by rosedavid

[Alexis/Twyla and Alexis & David, Teen, 9,718]

Alexis makes a surprise visit to Schitt’s Creek to spend some quality time with her girlfriend. But David is under the weather, and with Patrick out of town, Alexis tries her best to take care of him.

***

Hey, Brewer by iola17

[Patrick, Ronnie, Teen, 6,393]

A week before, Patrick would have said Ronnie asking for his help was impossible but when she comes into the store to do just that he tries his hardest, despite his confusion and questions. Even after she leaves, their interaction preys on his mind. Over the next few weeks something starts to shift between them but Patrick can’t help but be curious as to what started it all off and what Ronnie’s thinking.

***

here kitty, kitty by hullomoon

[Ted/Patrick, Teen, 1,352]

Patrick didn’t expect to find a cat or meet a hot vet

***

oh, i kinda of think i wanna make it last forever by doingthemost

[Stevie/Ruth, Teen, 2,206]

Ruth can scream. She can wail. She can effortlessly hit the kind of notes that Axl Rose has to warm up for, jumping from pitch to pitch with the kind of abandon that seems like precision. And she knows how to dial it back, following Patrick’s lead with an obvious ease that startles Stevie. When their voices meld together, Ruth matching him beat for beat, note by note, Stevie can’t help herself.

She catches Mutt’s eye, tilting her head towards the vocalists, and bites back a grin when the two of them join in.

And the funny thing is: this shouldn’t be so effortlessly easy. The four of them have never played together before.

Voting her into the band, though, is the easiest decision that Stevie’s ever made.

–

OR: Stevie hates when people tell her to smile. After Ruth joins her band, though, she can’t stop smiling.

***

[Fanart] There’s a Dead Guy in Room 4 by mallpretzles

[Stevie & Roland, General, 0]

The coroner said he’d be discreet with the body removal…so why did 6 people show up to assist? And, why were they all wearing hazmat suits?

***

Day 5

Taking Care of David by iola17

[Alexis & David, Teen, 5,590]

With Patrick out of town, the last thing David needs is to be stuck in bed with the flu. They’ve been planning Patrick’s attendance at the conference for months, there’s no question of him returning to help out. But as chance would have it, Alexis is in town for a couple of weeks and reluctantly, David agrees to let Patrick ask for her help. It isn’t like she’s going to say ‘yes’ anyway…

***

Marcy’s Girls by Turkey_Virgin

[Alexis, Marcy, & Stevie, Teen, 4,464]

Marcy is left alone with Alexis and Stevie after David has to pick Patrick up from a vendor run. Alexis and Stevie both turn to Marcy for relationship advice, and Marcy finds herself to be a substitute mother to the girls.

***

Want S’more by Amanita_Fierce

[Patrick/Jake/Mutt, Explicit, 3536]

Patrick goes camping and gets a crash course in survival woodworking.

***

your secret’s safe with me by stereopticons

[Ruth/Stevie, Mature, 3,125]

Stevie hates surprises. Truly, there’s nothing she hates more. They make her extremely uncomfortable, and always make her cry, whether or not they’re good surprises. She’s terrible at planning them, too. She’s never been particularly good at keeping secrets, which seems to shock most people.

But somehow, despite all of this, Stevie has ended up dating Ruth who not only likes surprises, but also just informed her that she booked a trip to visit Schitt’s Creek for her birthday. So now Stevie has to plan a surprise party for her sophisticated, big city girlfriend in a town that only has one restaurant.

Stevie enlists David’s help to plan a surprise party for Ruth. It goes about as well as one would expect.

***

Best Budds by mallpretzles

Stevie, G, 2,875]

A pre canon telling of Stevie’s relationship with the Motel over the passage of time and the lifelong effect it bestowed upon them.

***

You Miss 100% of the Tapes You Don’t Play by AuthorByNight

[Patrick & Stevie, Teen, 995]

Patrick and Stevie support one another’s endeavors on two separate occasions.

***

a reason to stay by doingthemost

[Alexis/Twyla, G, 606]

It isn’t like she’s never been used, like no one’s ever looked at her and seen someone they could discard. It isn’t like her family, their voices raised through the mansion as they all pack up their lives, cares about her.

She shoves things in suitcases. Stavros will get her out of this; Stavros will bring her home.

Still: when she finds David’s stuffie in her closet, she packs it, too.

–

Alexis has packed and unpacked her life countless times—but until Schitt’s Creek, she never found a place that made her want to stay.

#sc fanfiction #sc fic rec #sc fanart #sc fanworks #rare fest #sc rarefest #sc rarefest 2023

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