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#hollywood ad
lightsaber-dreams · 4 months
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I can't 😂😂😭 the movie about them is so funny
Live Scully and Mulder reaction: mortified
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Mulder groans and puts his head in his hands
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Then looks up and makes eye contact with Skinner who is having a good old time eating popcorn watching the movie about his OTP cause remember he made them go undercover as a married couple 😂
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bakedbakermom · 6 months
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that's it that's the show
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whovianderson · 3 months
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I have lost my fucking mind
(I just finished watching Hollywood AD for the first time)
The in-universe content
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Her smile…
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They held hands!!!!
I practically sobbed when Scully said that she doesn’t care what other people think of her and Mulder at the end of the episode. Mulder has been isolated his whole life because everyone’s thought badly of him, and would probably have been worried she would be deterred by that, but no!
Wait, sorry, Mulder and Scully watched actors playing themselves make out with each other, and then they left early with uninhibited access to money… I don’t know about you, but I’d like to know what they spent it on, any ideas?!?
I just love that they can joke like “Mulder… I’m in love with associate producer Skinner” without it affecting their relationship now, they jealously from earlier seasons is long gone.
The BTS
David Duchovny is severely unwell in the head, wtf!! Casting his actual wife to play herself playing his onscreen love interest, while there are already rumours about his relationship with the real actor of said onscreen love interest being more than platonic, and then have his wife get with the actor playing him??
And then the blooper of him saying to Gillian that “Téa Leoni wants to eat your pussy”?!
And then this?!?!
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I can’t take it. But at least we got a cute picture, I guess?!
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What an amazing episode though. After the quality of All Things, and now this, I wish Gillian and David wrote and directed all the episodes of the show!!
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agent-troi · 3 months
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Do you think the other agents in the FBI knew about the movie being made about Mulder and Scully? I have to imagine word got out, which would have been SO embarrassing, especially because they would obviously go out of their way to see it and probably laugh at them the whole way through and make teasing remarks back at work. At a certain point Skinner would have to forbid anyone in the building from mentioning it, and probably sheepishly apologize to Mulder and Scully 😅
Aaaaaand now I wish there was a fic about this
lmaooooo one of my favorite things is to imagine people’s in-universe reactions to that movie, like there have been rumors about these two for seven years and then this movie comes out which is allegedly based on them, except i guess not so allegedly bc they didn’t even change their names!! the fbi betting pool must’ve had a field day when they saw that movie and it would’ve been even more embarrassing for mulder and scully bc they weren’t together yet when the movie was being made, but by the time it comes out they’ve gotten together and so they’re sitting there watching it like 😳 so much for keeping our relationship under wraps, our asses are never beating the allegations
also slight sidebar but what i really think about the most is csm’s reaction to the movie… like imagine he’s just sitting in his crummy little apartment minding his own business flipping around the tv, and suddenly the trailer for the lazarus bowl comes on and he sees fake mulder and scully squaring off against a very familiar looking chain smoking villain, and he’s so utterly and completely shocked he immediately chokes on his cigarette and dies
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alexa-crowe · 10 months
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THE X-FILES 7.19 | “Hollywood A.D.”
bonus:
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aloysiavirgata · 4 months
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155 words - moon, trumpet, bus
The California moon feels friendly, low-bellied. He pretends the movie didn’t annoy him.
Scully is a knockout in that dress. The cat’s pajamas, the bee’s knees. Whatever the kids are saying.
“My mom saved up for Charlie’s trumpet,” she says, arms around her gracile knees. “My microscope.”
He doesn’t mention summer camp in the Poconos starting at six. The big coach bus with a bathroom, the cabins with electricity.
Samantha’s friendship bracelets for him. There were only two. He has them still, tucked away. Softest cotton; clumsy.
“Maggie,” he says, reverent. “What a gal.”
Scully looks at him and laughs her remarkable laugh, the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Like the music of the spheres.
He kisses her without knowing he was going to, kisses her like it was predestined.
Perhaps it was; their tongues so hot in the cool silver light.
He feels alive, open to the whims of the tide.
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kt-fm · 1 year
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This existing gives me life 🛸
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freckleslikestars · 2 years
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Five Times Mulder Asked Scully to Marry Him and One Time He Didn’t
does what it says on the tin :)
2016 words, read here on AO3
i.     She’s bleeding the first time he asks. Thorns of agony pierce his heart as burgundy red stains her snow-white skin. She bleeds elegantly, holds her composure even as the life drains from her, and he hates her a little bit for it because if she can daintily hold his handkerchief to her nose and murmur quiet placations as she dies in front of him, he has no right to go to pieces. He’d joked just last week about picking out china patterns, but when the words leap from his mouth it’s not that kind of wedding he’s asking for.
She startles, freezes under his gaze, and only the tang of iron on her tongue breaks her from her shock. He sits across from her, eyes pleading, unsure how to explain that he doesn’t want to be shut out of her hospital room when they say ‘family only’ again. It seems he doesn’t have to find the words; she can read him like a book.
‘You’re my emergency contact, Mulder. You’ll always be the first to know,’ she neglects to tell him that she changed her emergency contact and next of kin to him on her medical records two days after she woke from her coma.
He gives a tight smile and a stiff nod. Of course, a much more rational workaround. Much more sensible. They spend the rest of the day in silence, a metallic, bitter taste lingering in each of their mouths.
 ii.     She’s lost everything. Her health. Her daughter. Her bodily autonomy. She’s in remission, hasn’t had a nose bleed in nearly two months now, but she still feels wraith-like; her skin still a sickly hue under fluorescents, her ribs a protruding xylophone beneath her suits. She’s trying to put on weight but her appetite is still fighting its way back.
A weekend away. Sea air. Peace and quiet. Just what she needs, just what the doctor ordered. No family – no squalling babies to remind her what she can’t have – no Mulder and no aliens. Just the wide, empty ocean and the hole in her heart.
But trouble and the darkness find her like a magnet, and she’s secretly relieved at the sound of Mulder’s voice on the end of the phone, the faux-nonchalant quality of it that reveals just how much he’s missing her.
She doesn’t know who she’s showing off to when she recites all she knows: the friendly local police chief or him. She tells herself it’s the locals, that she doesn’t need his approval or his help, but she blooms when she hears his awestruck voice, can hear the smile in his whisper.
It takes all her restraint not to blush, not to give away just how much she wants him to mean it. But Jack Bonsaint is looking at her expectantly and so she rolls her eyes and wonders briefly if he can sense her disparaging look in the tone of her voice.
 iii.     They’re drenched in Egyptian cotton, limbs tangled and lethargic. Two bottles of overpriced champagne charged to a bureau card. There’s a silver plate of fresh strawberries on the side table that they’re occasionally reaching over to, sharing bites and licking up trails of sweet juice.
They’re giggly and past tipsy and can’t keep their hands from wandering, not that they need to. There’s no case pressing down on them, and for the rest of the weekend, they’re free of all responsibilities, with nowhere else they’re needed other than right there in bed, in the bath and in the luxuriously large shower. He’s mulling over the idea of taking her to the Griffith Observatory tomorrow evening, but he’s not sure he wants to leave the bliss of her embrace.
She’s soft and pliant in his arms and he cannot fathom ever letting her go, so he does the only thing he can think of doing with three-quarters of a bottle of champagne swimming through his system, ‘marry me, Scully,’ pressed into her collarbone as he licked his way down towards the valley between her breasts.
She hums contentedly and smiles wide, raking her fingers lazily through his messy hair. She tugs him back up to her mouth, chases his tongue and nips at his plush bottom lip. Her eyes are dark and deep, and he might just drown in them if she keeps looking at him like that. She rolls him over and settles atop him, glows as she makes love to him with a wide, dopey grin.
Neither will admit to remembering it in the morning, and the observatory will be toured silently, hand in hand, but his request and her soft moans of ‘yes,’ will echo throughout both their minds.
 iv.     Ten fingers. Ten toes. Big blue eyes and a button nose. He’s perfect; perfect little ears and the perfect Cupid’s bow. There’s a soft, awestruck quiet that has settled around her apartment, and as out of his depth as he feels holding his son – their son – nothing feels more right than the sturdy weight of him cradled in his arms.
She’s sleeping beside him, her body curved around the mass that’s no longer there, and he can’t help falling even more in love with her. She stirs as if she can sense his thoughts, and for once he doesn’t think about opening an X file on it. Her face crumples when she props herself up on her elbow, wincing slightly at the tenderness, and he gently presses his thumb against the crease in her forebrow until it soothes out. William coos and she peers into the bundles of blankets, capturing one of his little, flailing hands and pressing a kiss to it.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he murmurs quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, ‘I want to ask you something, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.’
‘Okay..?’ her voice trembles with hesitancy.
‘I want to do this thing right. I want to be a good dad, and a good partner and...and I want to be a good husband. I want to be there for you and for William, and I understand if that’s not what you want, and I didn’t ever think it would be something I would want. I grew up with my parents in a loveless marriage that ended in a terrible, terrible divorce and I swore I wouldn’t do that, but then I met you and I cannot imagine spending my life with anyone but you. I don’t want you to feel pressured though. It’s up to you, it’s your decision and we can take it at whatever speed you want, I just wanted to get it out there as something to think about and-‘
‘Mulder?’
‘Yeah?’
‘My answer’s yes. I’d like that, very much.’
She reaches up as he bends down, meeting in the middle for a soft, sweet kiss. A knock on the door disrupts them, triggering a wail from William, and Mulder chuckles, pulling away, ‘you know, this is our life now, right?’
‘And I can’t imagine being happier,’ one more pecked kiss and they carefully transfer William into his mother’s arms and Mulder goes to answer the door, opening it to find a note left on the floor in the corridor.
He’s got just under two days to go into hiding. Their eyes are red and raw by the time he ducks out, the watery dawn grey barely filtering through the windows of her apartment, the warmth that usually fills it having cooled.
 v.     He has a scruffy beard, she has dyed hair, and they haven’t stayed in the same town for more than three weeks in over a year. Different identities cycled through just as frequently. There’s a stupor that’s hung over them, dark clouds concealing a sun that struggles to fill the sky.
They’re in a town somewhere on the border between Arizona and Nevada and she’s waitressing at a diner, picking up every shift she can. They have a duffle of money – Mulder had spent years squirrelling away caches of money across the country, just in case; five hundred dollars here, a thousand there - but it’s dwindling and, whilst Scully’s technically an accomplice, she’s less recognisable with her hair died, and so she’s the one picking up odd jobs when she can.
It’s all too much. They’ve spent nearly a decade with a very specific purpose together and now they’re freefalling, grappling with how to exist in a world without structure and, more importantly, without their son.
They have their moments, though, when the pressure increases to boiling point and they snap. The storm breaks and they explode, sometimes vicious words hurled with painful accuracy, sometimes an angry fuck against the door of their motel room. And in the aftermath, a peace reigns. It lasts maybe a week, maybe two, but there’s a clarity in that peace, a reminder that they’re still in love.
It’s one of these sweet times they find themselves in now, coiled atop scratchy motel sheets whilst the ancient air conditioner wheezes over them. She’s soft and supple, draped over him and running her fingers through the scraggly hair on his chest. ‘I need to get to work.’
His arms wrap tighter around her waist, ‘no. I want you to stay right here.’ She hums, content to stay a moment longer, content to exist in this moment of calm. He kisses the top of her head when she looks at her watch, pouts when she sighs and pushes herself up and off the bed. He watches as she dresses, fastidiously buttoning her blouse, pinning back each flyaway strand of dull, mousy brown hair. She takes her time covering her freckles and the little beauty mark above her lip, anything that could be used to identify her. ‘Scully?’
‘Hm?’ she locks eyes with him in the mirror.
‘Come ‘ere.’
She’s hesitant as she sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to wrinkle anything - some habits die hard, and she’s her father’s daughter: she may not be working in the office anymore, but wrinkles and tardiness are not something she would ever allow. His brow furrows and she runs her thumb over it, ‘what?’
He takes her hand, kisses her thumb and each finger, lingering on the fourth one a moment longer than the rest, ‘would you...’
‘Mulder?’
‘Marry me.’
‘What?’
‘Doesn’t have to be now, but...I don’t want to lose you.’
She shifts, looks away from him. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Mulder.’
‘Just...think about it.’
She’s at the door before he can blink, ‘I’m going to be late for work.’
 vi.     He’s a free man. Technically, they both are now, but she’s had a modicum of freedom for a while. It’s new to him. So, he meets her at the hospital, just to bring her lunch. He smiles at the stir they’re causing as Dr Scully walks through the halls on the arm of a man.
He takes her to the Bahamas and they spend their days on the beach and in the water, eating mangoes that spill juice down their chins and rowing out into the startlingly blue abyss of ocean. They hike across rocky shorelines and through dense forest. He applies sun cream across her back religiously, but she still burns, and her freckles darken.
It’s their last night on the island, walking barefoot on the sandy shore, the gentle lap of waves around their toes. The moon’s bright, the sky cloudless, and the night feels endless when she stops in her tracks, their linked hands tugging him to a halt too.
She smiles at him, a blinding smile, and pulls him in closer to her, the whisper of her lips across his quiet in the still night. ‘I want to ask you something.’
He’s bemused but nods with a hesitant smile, ‘anything.’
Her mind flashes back on all the times he’s asked, all the times she’s scoffed at him or turned her back on him, and has a sudden need to never let him feel the anxiety that’s bubbling within her ever again. ‘Marry me?’
Tagging @today-in-fic
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harmonicabisexuals · 9 months
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okay but it’s literally certifiably insane to cast your WIFE as an actress playing a character based on your co-star/character’s romantic interest 
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katy-kt-katie · 2 years
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Movie at Mulder's (Diana POV)
Fictober Day 14:
Amazing catch from @agent-troi, Hollywood AD scene where Scully comes to Mulder's apartment at 3 a.m. to watch a movie, happens during the "18 Months Ago" flashback, which means squarely in the DIANA ARC. What might have occurred the next morning at work?
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Having been back in Washington for about a month now, Diana was getting in the swing of things again. Her mission from the Syndicate remained clear: win Mulder over and bring him in to his real father.
Mulder’s close platonic partnership with Dana Scully had proven the mission to be a bit more difficult than she intended. Still, she thought she could pull through given time, she’d already managed to distract his mind several times.
The X files were in transition, the basement office had been set on fire. So Mulder, Scully and Diana were stuck in the bullpen and she was all too happy to be stuck next to Mulder. 
She looked up from her computer just in time to see Mulder bringing Scully a coffee, not from the break room, but from the coffee shop around the corner. 
“Here you go, Sculls. It's a double shot.”
“Thanks Mulder. I need it,” she yawned and stretched in her seat.
“Don’t start that,” he teased, yawning in reply. “We really need to start getting more sleep.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry I kept you up all night.”
“Forgiven,” he said and pushed her a little in mock anger.
Diana gasped. What the hell are they talking about? Keeping him up all night? Are they actually fucking after all.
Mulder heard Diana's gasp and turned, “What?”
“Nothing,” she replied coolly.
“If you say so,” he yawned.
“Quit yawning,” Scully said as she threw a ball of paper at his head.
“Quit making me so tired.”
"You were all worked up, full of energy when I got there. Don't act like I made you stay up," she teased.
"You didn't seem to mind, just let yourself in."
"Well, you gave me a key."
Then he lifted his hand to her and they did some kind of secret handshake gesture with their thumbs. Diana was absolutely dumbfounded.
This was really going off the rails, originally she thought she'd be able to bring Fox into the Syndicate easily, and she never minded sex with him...was rather looking forward to it.
But now...
Diana rose in a huff and left the bullpen, getting out her phone to call CSM. 
“Yes,” he answered.
“Sir this may be harder than I thought. They are…sleeping together.”
“He can do better,” pausing to no doubt take a drag of a cigarette. “Break them up.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir,” she said, hanging up and pursuing her new mission with confidence.
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lightsaber-dreams · 4 months
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Hollywood writer: you're crazy for believing what you do and you're crazy for not believing what he does
HES SO RIGHT like Mulder believes in the paranormal but Scully's seen it with him and still doesn't believe sometimes lmao that's it that's the show
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bakedbakermom · 29 days
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$50 says it was skinner who told federman about the bee thing. when gary says the line and skinner turns around to them with that shit-eating grin? he probably thinks he was wing-manning for them.
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the1013file · 2 years
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agent-troi · 7 months
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now why is it that scully doesn’t know greek in ghost in the machine but in hollywood a.d. it’s “rusty” yet she’s able to translate the fake ancient text hoffman wrote lol
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mararhodus · 7 months
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Genuinely love that, at this point in the series, Mulder is more offended by the implication that Scully doesn’t love him than he is about turning his life’s mission into a slapstick comedy
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doctor-milfi · 2 years
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Skinman. The quintessential 90s dude.
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