scullysexual

[scullysexual]

Rob Bowman, The X-Files: Fight the Future (1999 DVD audio commentary) // The X-Files: Fight the Future (1998)

[scullysexual]

The Căluşari//2x21

[scullysexual]

any of the people who semi-regularly work with scully and mulder probably have an introductory x files speech ready to go for any newbies

"...and last but not least, take a look at the two agents over there"

"we're all waiting for the day they finally make out at a crime scene, but until then, if you want to keep your sanity, do NOT interact with both of them at once. you WILL be traumatized for life. any questions?"

"...are they. married?"

"fuck if i know, but talk to carl and you can join the betting pool."

[scullysexual]

I asked Twitter to give me some drabble prompts as well, and boy did they:

They’d been on the road for hours and the tank was running low, having burned extra fuel passing a convoy of Army trucks through the Ozarks. They rattled off the highway and through a gravely intersection, the haze of Missouri’s farms clinging to the car in a fine layer of dust, and Mulder opted for the Kum & Go instead of the Mobile station merely for the pleasure of needling Scully with innuendo.

The storefront of the station was bright and bustling, its windows peddling cigarettes and Route 66 tchotch, and his partner stretched languidly before slamming her door and heading inside. The handle of the gas pump was gummy and the prices were insane, but it was worth filling the tank if only to watch the sway of Scully’s hips as she walked away from the car.

A ratty old coupe pulled up next to him and four college-aged boys unfolded out of it, one tipping the last dregs of a can of Mountain Dew into his yaw. They were probably hungover but they were still brimming with energy, youth, their skin sun-kissed and pliant. They could put anything in their bodies and it would turn into thin, ropey muscle. Just looking at them made Mulder’s knees ache. He watched them over the roof of their rented Ford.

The driver of the coupe loped off toward the cashier window with a handful of crumpled bills and loose change, and the three other boys, left to their own teenaged devices, started scrumming on the asphalt, kicking at one another joyfully, laughing too loud and getting in other car’s way. A sharp honk from a Honda cowed them back to their own vehicle, but spurred them into defiance, and they shouted obscenities at the older driver as they leaned back against their car.

A flash of spun gold caught the edge of his vision, and he turned to see Scully making her way back to him, her hair bright as corona in the sharp slant of the sun. Her beauty was not lost on the boys next to him, who quieted upon her approach, their eyes fixed on her like statues, her heels snapping crisply on the tarry blacktop.

Scully seemed not to notice their gaze, or if she did, she gave no sign of it, though her eyes flicked to Mulder’s as she neared the side of the Taurus. As she reached for the door handle, the air was pierced with a single sharp wolf whistle. Mulder felt his dander rise like mercury but he said nothing, and the boys leaning against the coupe watched Scully in curious regard, waiting for a reaction.

His partner did nothing but pause casually in the doorway of the Taurus and carefully unbutton her suit coat, shrugging it off her shoulders as one of the boys hissed something too quiet for Mulder to hear. She folded the jacket and turned to deposit it in the car’s rear seat, turning to reveal to the teens behind her the steely black grip of her Glock, the leather of its holster a dull matte in the rays of the sun.

Mulder heard one of the boys mutter a quiet “oh shit,” and he rehung the gas pump handle as Scully slid into the car with a small smile, the boys behind her doing the same, clamoring against each other in their haste.

Mulder got in the car himself and secured his seatbelt before turning to his partner.

“You enjoy that?” he asked.

“Immensely,” she said, not meeting his eyes, but grinning toward the dash.

Mulder chuffed a laugh and ground the ignition, unable to contain a smile.

“Atta girl,” he said.

[scullysexual]

this just in: fbi agent is 3 apples big!!!

—

drawn on procreate

[scullysexual]

7.10 | Sein und Zeit

[scullysexual]

gasping and fainting over her collarbones like a victorian virgin seeing a naked ankle for the first time

#my collarbones used to stick out like hers #and i used to be really self conscious of it #shouldve watched this show earlier

[scullysexual]

~ OUCH, THE ANGST ~ ANGSTY PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous request: Can you give prompts for angst? I’m making a fic that’s gonna have a bad ending and an alternate ending

Feel free to use and reblog!

keeping things from the other to spare their feelings

walking away because they're bad at confrontation

refusing reconciliation because they're still deeply hurt

lashing out even though they know they will regret it

lying to the other about their feelings

lying to themselves about their feelings

listening to someone's bad advice

refusing to give the other a second chance

being the other's 'right person, wrong time'

making a decision against the other because they're seeing bad signs everywhere

"I need you." "Do you really need me or do you need the image of me you created in your head?"

"It's very cowardly to run away like this!" "Maybe. But maybe it's even more cowardly to pretend that everything is fine the way it is."

"Do I really mean nothing to you?!" "That's not fair. You know that's not the reason why."

"Why do I have to decide? It's virtually impossible!"

*choking on tears* "Why would you say something like this?"

"I vouched for you! How could you?!"

"Why did you never say anything? Why did I have to find out from a third person?"

"You're not serious? You're not being FUCKING SERIOUS?!"

"I did everything, and still, it wasn't enough."

"I know we failed, but I would still do it all again."

[scullysexual]

All Souls//5x17

[scullysexual]

Remnants

Everything that’s left of her broken dreams is standing at the counter, returning her smile.

Rated: PG Length: 1k

Notes: Post-episode for Per Manum

Originally posted on AO3 1/6/2016

~*~

The apartment is shrouded in gray when she returns, the last of her hopes printed on an appointment summary in her coat pocket. Upon seeing her face, he wishes he’d thought to turn on a light, so she wouldn’t have to come home to more darkness, his slumbering form on the couch not enough to fill this newfound emptiness.

“It didn’t take, did it?”

Disappointment shines in her eyes. Forehead to forehead, he waits until her breathing is calm to offer something more substantial than a promise, but the warmth of her skin under his fingers disarms him, gives him pause.

His hands cradle her face as their lips touch for only the second time, her arms wind around his neck like an anchor, pulling him down into her sorrowful sea.

~*~

Dr. Parenti’s delivery was kind, but she felt the news like a gunshot. It’s worse than Emily, this intangible loss. Failure hasn’t washed away the image of a young girl with auburn hair and almond eyes, or a boy with a shy, quirked smile.

She loves them, the ghosts of her unborn children and all they represented: The intimacy of family life, ringing laughter and a mantle lined with photographs.

A child’s cry cutting through the night, hushed lullabies and the love-drunk smell of a downy newborn head.

Saturday morning cartoons followed by pancakes and bacon, spilled milk and syrup-sticky fingers.

The stillness of reality plays a harsh contrast to her imagination as she listens to the silence of what could have been.

~*~

He wants to punch a hole through her pristine apartment wall. He wants to hunt down the faceless men who did this to her and kill them with his bare hands, until he’s bloody and sore and near death himself. He wants to run, to put miles and years between them, until his bad luck can’t touch her any more.

Sometimes he wishes he’d never followed when she tried to resign from the Bureau, that he wasn’t so chickenshit as to ask her to stay after paying the price for her loyalty several times over.

He’d signed away his rights, but the thing that makes his face burn and his stomach clench with shame, is that he’d wanted this for himself as much as her. Selfish bastard, he thinks. Still a chickenshit.

So he steels himself, grits his teeth and holds her until she pulls away. He takes her hand, leads her to the couch, offers to make tea.

He’ll stay, because he doesn’t have the courage to let her go.

He’ll stay, because he doesn't have the right to mourn what was never his to lose.

~*~

Mulder is opening cupboards, running water. Sleeves rolled to the elbows, he washes the dishes and waits for the kettle, then swipes at his forehead, leaving a trail of suds across one cheek. The sight brings an unexpected smile to her lips.

Her heart sinks with the enormity of her grief and the weight of too many unspoken words. Everything that’s left of her broken dreams is standing at the counter, returning her smile.

He settles on the opposite end of the couch, letting the mug warm his hands. She stares into hers for a few minutes before taking a slow sip, closing her eyes. When she opens them, she’s looking at him with an expression he’s seen only once before in real life, and too many times to count in recent fantasy.

“I love you.”

He blinks. His mouth must hang open, because she’s smiling at him now, a sad, tired smile.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she murmurs, hiding what’s left of her pride in her cup.

~*~

“What would you have done?” she asks. If it had worked, she doesn’t have to say.

“I’d have asked you on a date.”

She pauses to steady her cup on the coffee table, the tea sloshing in her startled hands. “A date?”

“You know—nice clothes, awkward conversation, an expensive wine list, at one of those places that mixes the salad dressing while you watch.”

“Really.”

“Really,” he returns, ducking his head.

“You’d ask your newly impregnated, platonic friend and colleague on an honest-to-goodness date.”

His smile is embarrassed enough to be convincing. “Yeah. I, uh…I thought…if I could give you…give you that…”

He stops, frowns. Her throat is tight when she finally breaks the silence. “Give me what?”

The tea goes cold before he can answer.

~*~

He wakes with a sore neck and Scully’s nose pressed into his hip, a throw tangled around her shoulders. The Late Late Show plays in the background, casting muted shadows on the walls.

She stirs when he stretches, blinking up at him from beneath sleep-addled lashes, as if seeing him for the first time. He wonders if this is what it’s like to hold a newborn; heart filled to bursting with terrifying awe.

“Mulder?”

“I’m here,” he murmurs, stroking the hair from her temple. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Mmph,” she says, her breath warming his abdomen through his t-shirt. “S’OK. I should get up, anyway.”

He nods in agreement, drawing his thumb gently along the plane of her cheek, but neither of them move for a long time.

~*~

She emerges from the bathroom just as he’s finished washing the mugs. Bare feet peek out from oversized silk pajamas, and she surprises herself, wrapping her arms around his waist before she can lose her nerve.

“I’ll stay, if you want,” he murmurs, and she loves him for offering so she doesn’t have to ask.

She loves him for so many reasons. Someday she’ll count the ways, line them up, and tuck them away; programmed, categorized, and easily referenced.

“I’d like that,” she says instead, words muffled by the thrum of his heart.

~*~

She fits perfectly in the circle of his arms, the way he always imagined she would. He times his breathing to the rise and fall of her chest and whispers a blessing into her hair.

“I wanted more for you, Scully.”

Her arms tighten around him, but she doesn't answer.

He holds what little hope is shared between them, and prays that it's enough.

~*~

cc @today-in-fic

[scullysexual]

The Scene from the x files pilot, as seen on my 1999 crt tv :)

[scullysexual]

Oubliette//3x08

[scullysexual]

#its a meme lads

[scullysexual]

Guess The Ep (26/04)

#the x files #xf guessing games #65

[scullysexual]

Guess The Ep (25/04)

#the x files #xf guessing games #64

[scullysexual]

Thinking about how Mulder and Scully loved each other as best friends and partners before they were romantic

Explicitly romantic, I mean. They’ve just loved each other for the whole time..

[scullysexual]

GILLIAN ANDERSON as DANA SCULLY in THE X-FILES (1993-2018) | S04E23 ‘Demons’