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agent-troi · 2 months

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scully and mulder's dynamic visibly changes after the onset of the season of secret sex

i've been thinking about how dd and ga deliberately played season 7 like mulder and scully were sleeping together, and i think there's solid evidence of that in the differences in how scully reacts to mulder appearing to show interest in another woman before and after the season of secret sex begins (i'm using millennium as the before/after divider bc i think that's what dd and ga decided, but this is based on my vague memory of a reddit comment about it which is how i first learned that the season of secret sex was a thing)

so overall there's an undercurrent of insecurity, borne of scully's uncertainty regarding precisely how mulder feels about her and what her place is in the hierarchy of things that are important to him in his life, that exists in the pre-millennium incidents and is glaringly absent post-millennium:

before millennium:

(i'm not gonna include phoebe/fire here bc i don't think scully's awareness of her feelings had yet risen to the point where she'd be truly jealous, i'd characterize her in that ep as largely protective of mulder and unwilling to let him deal with phoebe's games alone. it also helps that he's clearly not happy phoebe is back in his life again, unlike his much more positive reaction to diana)

war of the coprophages- the second scully finds out about bambi, she immediately hops in her car and drives up to miller's grove to join mulder, bc letting him investigate cockroaches alone was fine but god forbid he spend quality time investigating an x-file with an attractive female scientist who isn't herself- that's their thing!!

syzygy- to be fair the planetary alignment situation was exacerbating her- and mulder's- behavior here, but her jealousy of and hostility to detective white were still real, even if she would've been able to rein in her emotions better under normal circumstances.

diana fowley arc- i think this speaks for itself, lol

alpha- this is an interesting period in their relationship: after most of the diana shit is over, but before the tension between them is fully resolved (a process which to me begins with milagro/the unnatural and ends with amor fati, but that would be its own post lol).

other than introducing himself to karin as "fox" (maybe as a way to appeal to her preference for canids lol) and thus implicitly giving her permission to call him by his first name (which she proceeds to do throughout the episode), mulder doesn't seem to show much in the way of attraction to her.

even when he touches her hand to move the mouse, he's more interested in what's on the screen than in paying attention to her:

karin, however, is visibly affected by the contact, a fact which scully immediately notices:

later in the car, they have this convo, the last line of which is so heavily laden with diana subtext it's not even funny:

scully's reaction to karin is similar to her reaction to phoebe in that she's motivated mainly by wanting to protect mulder from his own naive, trusting nature, and from someone she believes is seeking to take advantage of it, rather than being motivated primarily by jealousy and defensiveness. she doesn't really believe that karin is a genuine threat to her relationship with mulder, but with diana still fresh in her memory she can't afford to not be vigilant. hence why she confronts karin alone later:

here scully demonstrates that she somewhat empathizes with karin (mulder is also someone who challenges her, makes her feel fulfilled and happy and alive). karin's response indicates that she has correctly deduced the basis of scully's dislike/distrust of her, and also acknowledges scully is the dominant one as it relates to the territory (mulder) that they are sparring over.

scully looks away at karin's "feminine wiles" comment, revealing the nagging insecurity about her place in mulder's life that diana's arrival exacerbated and that will continue to plague her until amor fati.

after millennium:

rush- when mulder looks back at chastity in the hallway, scully's reaction is to possessively grab mulder's sleeve and pull him away into the interrogation room:

and his response is to laugh and say "what?" like he doesn't know he belongs to her and only her.

keep in mind this happens just before they interrogate tony reed, and right after they finish interrogating him this shit happens:

i already made a post last week about how insanely flirty they are in this episode, but this scene!!

she's pouting and giving him big doe eyes and playing with his tie!! at work!! in public!! she feels comfortable staking her territory in such an obvious way (also playful rather than hostile) bc she's not longer insecure about her place in his life!! i can never be normal about this i'm sorry ssdfgksdgsjdkfhkjsdf

first person shooter- when mulder checks out jade blue afterglow as she's leaving, he leans so far over in such an obvious, exaggerated way, almost as if he's deliberately trying to get a rise out of scully, but all she does is raise her eyebrows at him and lean over to block his view (while smirking):

and then he says he's "feeling the great need to blast the crap out of something", an almost direct quote of scully's line from their convo in the autopsy room right before they went down to the station:

and her response is to SMILE at him!!

pre-millennium scully would absolutely not have reacted this way in this situation. just like in rush, the insecurity that previously haunted scully whenever mulder seemed to be close to or interested in another woman is utterly absent here. they're joking and teasing and enjoying each other's company like they've always done, but there's a different dimension to it now. pre-millennium mulder would never have made a show of checking out another woman like that right in front of scully (unless a planetary alignment is affecting his behavior ofc lol), and pre-millennium scully would never have found it amusing.

(side note: people were debating on twitter a while back about whether this scene was ooc for mulder, and tbh i'm not sure what my own opinion is bc to me the whole episode has an air of... unreality? idk but it gives me similar vibes to post-modern prometheus, like maybe it's real or maybe it's just someone telling a story or it's somewhere in between, and it's also got that same unserious feel idk how else to describe it)

anyway, back to my main point, which is: dd and ga are damn good actors in the way they were able to subtly telegraph this shift in mulder and scully's dynamic. one might be able to argue that the insane flirting throughout season 7 isn't by itself evidence of the season of secret sex bc on some level they've always been like that, but to me these specific interactions provide important clues that the nature of their relationship has changed.

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aloysiavirgata · 6 months

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Prompt: alternate post-Orison where Scully doesn’t get to her gun and Mulder is the one that kills Pfaster.

She had a friend at the Academy named Clarice Starling who once got come on by a crazy man. Multiple Miggs they’d called him, stored right next next to Hannibal the Cannibal Lecter. Spattered her across the cheek and laughed as she fled down the hall.

Anyway, that’s what she thought of when Pfaster’s blood and aerosolized brain misted over her face and neck and hair. Clarice Starling getting come on by a crazy man.

They’d laughed about it, she and Clarice and Ardelia Mapp, back when they were young and immortal and giggled about Fox Mulder and Hot Bobby Lowrance over boozy coffee at midnight.

She heard Fox Mulder had fucked his way through Quantico. Funny how titillating that had been in the abstract.

Funny.

But here’s Pfaster’s proof of mortality crusting to her skin, her stocking, her pajamas. She and Mulder will both have hearing loss from the blast percussion, she and Mulder will both have another homicide between them.

But homicide isn’t murder.

Here’s Pfaster falling, falling, how can he fall for so long?

Mulder killed Pfaster so she wouldn’t have to, she knows this. Knows Mulder gave her Pfaster the way a cat will bring you a mouse. I killed this so you didn’t have to.

Mulder stares into her with hot black eyes and the smoking bore of his service weapon is a Third Eye and she knows, she knows, that he saw something in Pfaster that the legal system never would have.

Pfaster hits the floor and the sound is the sound of the Fourth Seal.

And the Lord said to Cain, who had just killed his brother, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the from the ground.”

Scully falls to her knees beside his body, she gazes at the sucking wound, waits until the blood stops frothing before she calls 911.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my fic #prompt #orison #Donnie Pfaster #silence of the lambs #crossover #clarice starling

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atths--twice · 1 year

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Letters of Love

A feeling leads Scully to an Internet café, hoping to hear from Mulder, praying that he is safe.

The other day, I was on TikTok and I saw a video with a poem being read. It was so beautiful and I couldn't help but see it relating to Mulder and Scully, as I do almost everything, and so I had to write a story.

I love the emails that Mulder and Scully send to one another, the love that is held within each of them, and so I thought what if we saw another one?

February 20th, 2002

“I won’t be long,” Scully told her mother, who had come over to visit, bringing dinner with her. “I didn’t realize I was in need of milk. I’ll just pop to the shop real quick.”

“I can go for you,” Maggie said with a smile, drying her hands on the kitchen towel she had been using to dry the dishes.

“No,” Scully said forcefully and her mother looked at her in surprise. She smiled and touched her mother’s arm. “I just meant… I don’t mind going. I could do with a walk, on my own. I don’t get that chance too often. That is, if you don’t mind staying for a bit longer.”

“Of course I don’t. But, it’s cold out, Dana. You should drive.”

“No, that’s okay. The walk will do me good. It’s not very far. Thanks, Mom.”

She grabbed her coat and hurried out the door before any further discussion could take place.

Not sure if her mother was watching her from the window, she began walking in the direction of the little convenience shop around the corner, then doubling back when she knew it would be safe. Heading in the opposite direction, the need for milk a complete fabrication, she checked both ways and then crossed the street.

“Please,” she whispered as she walked, the cold winter air filling her lungs as she took deep breaths. “Please let me be right.”

A few more streets over and she paused in front of Cyber Cafe, the internet cafe near her apartment. Closing her eyes briefly, and pleading with the universe once more, she continued on and pushed the door open.

“Welcome,” a barista said to her as she walked in and she nodded, making only quick eye contact with him.

It was not overly crowded, but many of the computers were in use. Choosing one near the back of the cafe, she passed by others in order to reach it.

Sitting down, she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Her hands shook slightly as she typed in her information and waited, her heart racing.

Tonight was not the first night she had come in, desperate to see if Mulder had replied to her last email after their planned meeting had been thwarted. Part of her hoped she would not see a message waiting for her. But the other part of her ached to know that he was safe and had found a way to contact her, even as she knew he should be taking precautions to remain hidden.

All through dinner tonight, she had felt an odd sensation in her stomach, an excitement bubbling up. The way a drop on a roller coaster makes you feel, nervous and happy all at once. She could not explain how she knew it meant coming to the cafe, but she did.

Follow the white rabbit. The yellow brick road. The path she had been meant to take even before she had known herself.

The computer beeped, her information entered and received successfully.

Letting out a long, silent breath, she moved the mouse, clicked open her email, and licked her lips.

There were three messages. Two were inconsequential and she barely gave them a glance. But the last one was from an address she had not seen before and tears filled her eyes as she clicked to open the email with no subject, from [email protected].

Blinking her eyes and exhaling quickly, she drew in a breath and covered her mouth with her hand to hold back her sobs as she read and then reread the single paragraph.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Breathing brokenly through her nose, she closed her eyes and bowed her head, too many thoughts suddenly crowding her mind.

Nearly four years ago, in a small town ironically named Honey, women had been disappearing. Lines of poetry, from different poets, had been found in their homes, written on paper left on desks, with lipstick on mirrors, and in one case, with rose petals on a bed.

The last one had creeped Scully out more than she had been willing to admit, causing her to triple check her motel lock every night, even going so far as to place a chair in front of it and using a couple of clothespins she had begun to keep with her to keep her curtains shut tightly.

She had not slept well during the entirety of that case.

Without much of a lead, and feeling as though they had hit a brick wall, Mulder had suggested visiting the local library. Asking to see all the books of poetry they had on the shelves, the librarian soon had a table filled with them.

They had been silently reading through them for a few minutes, looking for a pattern or anything to help, when Mulder had begun to read random passages aloud. Scully had sighed and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in her stomach, when familiar words caused her to tense up and her breath to catch.

“I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off,” Mulder had read quietly. She had closed her eyes for a moment before raising her head, her brows furrowed, and stomach clenching. “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” He looked at her and smiled before looking back at the book. “I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.”

“Mulder,” she had said, shaking her head as she pictured the bright rose petals that had been arranged with meticulous care on the dark blue comforter.

“Wait, it’s nearly finished,” he had said, holding up one finger, not aware of her reaction. “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Hmm, that’s really beautiful.”

“Is it?” she had whispered, shivering slightly as she imagined those words left behind by a possible murderer.

“You don’t think so?” he had asked, looking at her. “It’s Pablo Neruda, Scully.”

“Yes, I know. And I can also see that for myself,” she had said, nodding toward the book and he had smiled as he too looked at the cover.

“You didn’t like it?”

“Not in this context,” she had said, gesturing to the books around them. “I like poetry, I really do. I always have. Just…” She had shaken her head and sighed as she had picked up another book and began to look through it. “It feels more disturbing than romantic at the moment.”

“Oh. I… I suppose I wasn’t thinking about it that way. It just… I thought it was…” he had quietly replied. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She had felt his eyes on her and she had looked up at him.

“It’s okay,” she had said again, smiling tightly.

“It’s not,” he had said, shaking his head and looking down at the book.

“It is a good poem and one that I actually really like,” she had said softly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We studied poetry for a few weeks when I was in high school and Neruda became one of my favorite poets.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ve ever really discussed it.” She had shrugged and turned a page in the book she held. “I like that sonnet, but it’s the last part of it that I like best.” She had looked at him and drew in a breath, reciting it from memory. “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.”

He had stared at her as she forced away disturbing thoughts, instead thinking of how she had felt when she read that poem for the first time, her gaze becoming unfocused and faraway.

“Straightforward. No complexities. Not existing without the other. Falling asleep in sync,” she had whispered as she had shaken her head, remembering the rather juvenile dreams she’d once had. “Does anyone ever really find that kind of love? Is it even possible?”

Inhaling, she had blinked and then met his eyes. He had not said anything, and as she had shrugged and exhaled, her attention returned to the book in her hand as his had returned to his own, no further words spoken.

Months later, after the mentally exhausting days spent with Daniel, thoughts of her past blending with her present, she had lain warm and naked with Mulder in his bed. Sleep had nearly claimed her, when she felt his fingertips gently caressing her forehead.

“I love you because I know no other way than this,” he had whispered and she had opened her eyes tiredly, his thumb rubbing softly at her temple as he stared at her intently, his eyes dark. “Straightforwardly, without complexities or pride.”

“Mulder,” she had breathed. Closing her eyes again, she had shifted closer to him and he enveloped her in his arms, her hand resting above his heart.

“So close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep,” he had spoken in a low tone against her ear and she had hummed, his scent and the warmth of his body making it nearly impossible to form coherent thoughts. “I love you, Scully. Without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mulder,” she had murmured against his skin, kissing his neck as she exhaled and he had held her tighter, kissing the top of her head.

“Excuse me, is anyone using this computer?” Scully heard someone ask the person to her left and she opened her eyes as she raised her head, almost confused to find she was sitting at a table in front of a computer and not in bed with Mulder.

She drew in steadying breaths and looked at the screen. Reading the paragraph again, she smiled through her tears.

He was safe. Alive.

Quickly, she opened a new message and began to type. Knowing the likelihood of him risking his safety again to check his email was nearly nonexistent, she knew she had to at least try.

To give to him what he had given her.

Sending it, she reopened her email from him and selected to print it. Logging out of her account, she hurried to the printer, picked up her paper, and walked out of the cafe.

Folding the paper, not wanting anything to happen to it, she placed it in her pocket, where she kept a hold on it. Needing a second, she stepped into the mouth of an alleyway and leaned against the wall with a deep sigh.

“Thank you,” she breathed, lifting her face to the sky. “Please continue to keep him safe.” Quickly making the sign of the cross, she stepped back onto the sidewalk and continued home.

“They didn’t have milk?” her mother asked when she walked through the door and Scully froze, completely forgetting the reason she had given for her need to leave the apartment.

“Oh… no. There was a mix up with their shipment and uh… they’ll have it tomorrow.”

“I could go to the other grocery store and get you some now if you’d like…”

“No. That’s okay, Mom,” Scully said, her thumb caressing the piece of paper in her pocket. “I’ll be alright. I can get it in the morning.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. You head on home and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Dana.”

“Night, Mom. Thank you for dinner. And thanks for staying.”

“Of course.”

They embraced and her mother left, zipping her coat as she walked out. Scully sighed as she locked the door and took off her coat, removing the paper from her pocket.

She checked in on William, smiling at his rosy cheeks as she watched him breathing deeply. Not wanting to risk waking him, she refrained from touching him and quietly left the room.

Once she was in bed, she propped the paper up against the pillow beside her, staring at the words until her eyelids began to droop.

For the first time in weeks, her sleep was peaceful and undisturbed.

_____________

Three days later, entering a busy Internet café, timing it perfectly to blend in with the crowd, a rather disheveled looking man in a beat up Dodgers cap, sat down at a computer. He watched the room as he logged in to his account, wary of everyone around him.

He had four emails. Three of which were spam and meant absolutely nothing to him.

Clicking on the bottom one, the one that made his heart beat almost painfully, he read the single sentence and he grinned as eleven words caused him to feel more loved and less alone than he had in a very long time.

Without knowing how, or when, or from where… I love you.

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #season 9 #post trust no 1 #emails #inspired by poetry #poetry #love #declarations of love

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compneuropapers · 10 months

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Interesting Papers for Week 28, 2023

Fundamentally different representations of color and motion revealed by individual differences in perceptual scaling. Emery, K. J., Volbrecht, V. J., Peterzell, D. H., & Webster, M. A. (2023). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 120(4), e2202262120.

Propagating spatiotemporal activity patterns across macaque motor cortex carry kinematic information. Liang, W., Balasubramanian, K., Papadourakis, V., & Hatsopoulos, N. G. (2023). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 120(4), e2212227120.

Confidence of probabilistic predictions modulates the cortical response to pain. Mulders, D., Seymour, B., Mouraux, A., & Mancini, F. (2023). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 120(4), e2212252120.

Choice-confirmation bias and gradual perseveration in human reinforcement learning. Palminteri, S. (2023). Behavioral Neuroscience, 137(1), 78–88.

Hippocampal Theta and Episodic Memory. Rudoler, J. H., Herweg, N. A., & Kahana, M. J. (2023). Journal of Neuroscience, 43(4), 613–620.

Entorhinal grid-like codes and time-locked network dynamics track others navigating through space. Wagner, I. C., Graichen, L. P., Todorova, B., Lüttig, A., Omer, D. B., Stangl, M., & Lamm, C. (2023). Nature Communications, 14, 231.

Place cells are nonrandomly clustered by field location in CA1 hippocampus. Wirtshafter, H. S., & Disterhoft, J. F. (2023). Hippocampus, 33(2), 65–84.

Generalized extinction of fear memory depends on co-allocation of synaptic plasticity in dendrites. Xu, Z., Geron, E., Pérez-Cuesta, L. M., Bai, Y., & Gan, W.-B. (2023). Nature Communications, 14, 503.

Activity disruption causes degeneration of entorhinal neurons in a mouse model of Alzheimer’s circuit dysfunction. Zhao, R., Grunke, S. D., Wood, C. A., Perez, G. A., Comstock, M., Li, M.-H., … Jankowsky, J. L. (2022). eLife, 11, e83813.

#science #Neuroscience #computational neuroscience #Brain science #research #cognition #cognitive science #neurobiology #neural networks #neural computation #neurons #psychophysics #scientific publications

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thenaturalpet · 1 year

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I attempted to make this post the other day but couldn’t. On Wednesday, I finally lost Mulder. I’d hoped I’d have a couple more months with him, but I knew realistically that he’d been on borrowed time for pretty much the last year. He was 3 years and 26 days old.

I’d originally planned to build a new bin cage once he was gone (he did have some trouble climbing in the end, so I didn’t want to build it for him lest he get injured), and fill it with a new male or a small group of females, but I think I’ll be taking a break from mice for awhile. I’m still not sure if that means trying something new or just keeping only a hamster for awhile. It may take me awhile to decide on that one.

#pet death #my mice #mulder the mouse

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alexa-crowe · 11 months

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mulder being a stay at home dad and actually raising william would have healed him

Literally! The heart of The X-Files was always family. Mulder’s whole journey in the show was accepting that Sam’s disappearance wasn’t his fault. Not that he ever believed that Sam being abducted was his fault, but he believed that he was guilty of not doing his duty as her older brother to protect her. He does the same thing with Scully’s abduction and the painful events thereafter, blaming himself for not saving her from Duane Barry, for not preventing her cancer, for not finding a cure for Emily.

Scully becomes his family, and he protects her with the same zeal as he does Sam: “Nothing else matters to me,” from the pilot when he’s saying it about uncovering government secrets to find Sam; and then, “Nothing else matters to me now,” from that deleted scene from “The Red and the Black” when he’s telling Scully that his priority is figuring out why abductees are being summoned places by their chips—to protect Scully.

He intended to spend his whole life looking for what happened to Sam, would martyr himself for the cause if he had to because the only thing that ever mattered to him after her abduction was being an older brother. He shifts his commitments to be tied between Sam and Scully, because they’re partners in the professional, platonic, and romantic sense of the word.

Becoming a father was the most natural conclusion of his character arc. I believe that’s why it works so well for Scully to end up wanting kids, too. In Mulder’s quest to “make up” for failing as an older brother, he punished himself with shallow relationships like with Diana, Phoebe, and Kristen. His parents were already wallowing in their own misery and self-pity/self-flagellation, so they were of no help. Scully was the first person to tell him that his wants and desires mattered, that he deserved happiness—getting out of the car. She doesn’t just say that because it’s what she wants, of course; she wouldn’t keep begging him if she didn’t understand that Mulder wanted it, too.

And when he finally accepts that he needs to let Sam go, stop focusing on walking into that room every day—let Scully hold his hand as she goes there with him and guide him back out—he’s free to enjoy the bond he’s forged with her. Free to want a family and want an end to their work, which by necessity requires self-sacrifice. Mulder was never really married to the work, he was sacrificing himself on the blade of it, waiting either for the truth to come to him through all the pain or to die first.

He doesn’t want a kid to come between them, doesn’t want them to forget each other and stop caring enough about each other, because he knows what it’s like to have a dysfunctional family—to have a mother that’s not there for you like you need them to be and a father that’s not there for you like you need them to be. He doesn’t want a baby to be the thing that finally breaks them, makes her leave him behind so he’s all alone again like he was at twelve in the room he spent so much of his life walking into over and over.

He would’ve loved to be a stay-at-home dad, reveling in the normalcy of domestic life. Staying up with Will to feed him at two in the morning with the TV on low, knowing that it wasn’t all in vain—that better things will come if you have the strength to believe in them. Strapping Will to his chest to surprise Scully at work, dressing him up as Spock for his first Halloween, celebrating New Year’s at the volume of a mouse with the TV all the way down so they don’t wake him up…

It’s so painful to watch him lose people over and over again because what is he if not a brother? A son? A father? A partner? Scully made him whole because she tells him that no matter how his life changes—no matter the people that he loses and the relationships that fall apart—he will always be his sister’s brother and his parents’ son and their son’s father and her partner. He will always matter. He doesn’t have to prove himself, he can just be.

When all the dressings of the show are stripped away, Fox Mulder is a family man. He would’ve been so happy to stay home with William and live a fulfilling life that way. Really fucking sucks that the show never so much as acknowledged that. But that’s what the fic is for!

#txf #txf meta #ask

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all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth · 7 months

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All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Pusher (3x17)

Agent Frank Burst, the guy with the great name. Say, Frank, are Agents Mulder and Scully there?

Frank holds the phone to his ear, as the SWAT team sets up the trace. He hears Mulder’s voice come across the line from the other room. “Yeah, we’re here.”

Perfect. Frank, how much do you weigh?

He tightens his grasp on the phone, adding a second hand as if squeezing it against the side of his head would help him find this bastard once and for all. “Excuse me?”

About how much do you weigh?

He’s sick of this cat and mouse game. He doesn’t care if he has to tell him his mother’s maiden name and his favorite breakfast cereal if it means getting his location.

“Anything to keep you on the line, you stupid piece of sh—” He looks at the computer that’s tracing the call. Another number pops up. “I don't know, about a hundred-ninety, hundred and ninety-five.”

Two-fifteen if you're a day, you're totally the wrong weight for your height. I mean, no offense, Frank, but you're built like a fireplug.

He’s so tired of this guy’s bullshit.

“Yeah, and I got stubby little legs that are gonna kick you right in the ass. You going somewhere with this, Modell?”

Yeah, it's just that it can't be healthy. And you look like maybe you're a smoker, you probably take a little drink now and then, eat greasy fried food... sausage, bacon, eggs-over-easy.

Frank’s stomach swirls as he thinks about the Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity he’d eaten that morning. Nearly cleaned the plate and then chased it with burger and fries and a large coffee for lunch.

“Frank.”

He breathes in, willing the food to stay in his gut. His skin feels too hot and his mouth feels too dry.

Onion rings that soak those dark stains through the cardboard. And I'm guessing you shake on that salt like a maraca.

“Frank…”

How about it? Am I packing it up on this?

“Frank, hang up the phone.”

He takes a deep breath, then another, but the air isn’t making it all the way in. His stomach feels full and there’s a sudden tightness in his chest, like an elephant is sitting on it. He remembers the asthma he’d outgrown from childhood, the pack of cigarettes he’d blown through that afternoon. He takes another deep breath but it barely helps.

“What are you talking about, Modell?” Frank asked, looking at the computer screen. “What's your point?”

Frank, you know what that's doing to your arteries.

Another number pops up on the screen, slow as a slug in tar. Just a little longer.

Terrible things, Frank. Terrible.

His breaths are only making it to the bottom of his throat and the tightness is turning into pain. He needs these numbers to fucking move faster.

“Frank.”

There’s a cold sweat on his face.

Waxy yellow chunks of plaque are tumbling through your bloodstream…

He can’t get air in. His whole body is clenched, the pain spreading from his chest to his arms.

Sticking like glue to your arterial walls…

A strangled sound escapes him as he squeezes the phone.

One more number.

“Hang up the phone, Frank!”

He feels Mulder near him.

Squeezing shut your aorta... can you feel it, Frank?

There’s nothing but pain and Modell’s voice. Breathing does nothing as the squeezing gets tighter, the elephant gets bigger, the pain gets sharper.

“Come on, man, hang up the phone.”

He can’t. He needs the number. Jesus, he needs oxygen.

But not as much as the number.

Can you feel your aorta...

He can and it’s fucking closed. His blood feels like burning hot molasses backed up in his body as his entire chest compresses on top of itself.

His knuckles scream in agony from his grip on the phone.

“Frank, hang up the phone!”

…closing shut?

“Back off!” He yells with every ounce of strength he has and pushes Mulder away.

He can live through the pain. He’s been shot. Twice. He’s had his appendix removed. He survived two divorces. This isn’t real.

All those miles of aorta…

“Frank, hang up the phone!”

“I said back off!”

That sonofabitch almost hung up on Modell, but Frank stays on the line. His whole body is on fire. His jaw clenches as the pain radiates up his neck.

“Hang up!”

The pressure…

“Finish the trace!”

His throat is tight. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth making every word a struggle.

Ever hear of pachyemia, Frank?

“Mulder?”

It’s Agent Scully, but Frank can’t focus on her. His whole world is knives and steel clamps. Ice picks stab down his left arm.

“Somebody hang up the phone!”

He squeezes his eyes tight. Need to hold on. That number. Need the number.

There’s this medical condition called pachyemia? It's when the blood thickens up in your veins like strawberry jam.

The room fills with commotion but he’s blinded by the pain. He presses the phone to his ear and focuses on getting the tiniest bit of air into his lungs. Sweat drips off his nose.

“Finish the trace!”

His hand is like lead as he points at the agent. His teeth grind together, the pain moving to his head and down into his legs.

“Frank! Hang it up! Hang up!”

Your heart flatlines.

He takes a breath, sweet stale air finding its way to his lungs for one blissful moment of relief, before everything stops. The knife in his chest digs in deeper, twisting with a white hot fire. His mouth drops open as he freezes in place, unable to do anything but exist in the most horrible anguish he could ever imagine.

Beeeeeeeeeep….

The floor is falling out from beneath him, pitching him forward into darkness.

“Frank!”

Darker and darker, numb and black.

You die, Frank.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3!

@fridaysat9

#all eyes lead to the truth #season 3 #s3 #pusher #3x17 #frank burst #mulder #scully #msr #x files #x files fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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icarusfrommars · 1 year

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THE WORLD'S GREATEST DETECTIVE: ROUND 2

Alright folks, it's time for round two! This round brings in the final members of the competition not in the first round. Let's take a look at who figured out all the clues to make it to round 2, and who got stumped.

Sherlock Holmes VS L: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's most famous character was no match for the King of Cat and Mouse it seems. L managed to beat Sherlock handily, and now goes on to face Batman in round 2.

Mystery Inc. VS Angus McDonald: It seems 5 heads are better than 1. Mystery Inc. easily outmatched the boy wonder in round 1. The Scooby Gang will be moving on to face Columbo in round 2.

Agent Hank Schrader VS Agents Scully and Mulder: Even though Hank has taken down some of the most dangerous men in New Mexico, he wasn't able to compete with a duo that has gone up against threats of humanity itself. Scully and Mulder will be moving on to round 2, going up against Goro Akechi.

Benois Blanc VS Professor Layton: It seems that Layton's keen eye was able to prove itself better than Blanc's. Along with that, it seems his win gave him the confidence he needed to come out of retirement and announce a new adventure! But he's still got a competition to get to, and next round he's up against Connor.

Sam and Max VS Hercule Poirot: Just like Sir Doyle's detective, Dame Christie's own famous inspector was bested by the mad duo of Sam and Max. The two of them will go on to the next round and face off against Shuichi Saihara.

Basil of Baker Street VS Detective Pikachu: Even though the electric mouse might have been the cutest in the contest, the eclectic mouse pulled ahead in the competition. Basil will continue on to round 2 and face Jessica Fletcher.

Nancy Drew VS Nick Valentine: Nancy pulled ahead against the synth and snagged her spot in round 2. Her opponent next round will be Jessica Jones.

Dick Tracy VS The Hardy Boys: Even with all his gadgets and gizmos, Dick Tracy still lost against just a couple of brothers. The Hardy Boys will find themselves up against Auguste Dupin in round 2.

The round 2 polls will be rolling out shortly. Remember, vote for the better detective, not who is your favorite!

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elevatortheory · 10 months

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TOP 10 (or so) FICTIONAL CATS (from books i have read)

10. kitty (bad kitty)

they made so many of these comics . i think she was justified in everything she did that dog was annoying as fuck

9. skippy jon jones (skippy jon jones)

technically shouldnt be on this list since he is, in fact, not a cat at all. hes a chihuaha. i promise. hes silly though i miss him

8. martin (martin's mice)

sweet little guy. kind of stupid. he trapped some mice in a bucket because he didnt have any friends and didnt want them all to run away it happens to the best of us martin

7. sabine and puck (the underneath)

another book that touches on humans being terrible . this one is sad and i cant actually remember what happens in it but these little guys have a place in my heart anyways . i hope they ended up safe

6. aldwyn (familiars)

probably one of the more well-known cats on here. may or may not be magic. memorable enough for me to have found this book again, but not too interesting

5. cilla and betta (a cat story)

probably also some more iconic cats on this list. this book is adorable

4. the tabby family (catwings)

im sorry google didnt have an image of all of them ft. jane. well these cats they have wings and tell a story of how dangerous it is for stray cats , ending with the feral family being somewhat adopted and living as barn cats i think. good for them.

3. chester (bunnicula)

god do i love these books. and chester. the mulder to harolds scully, if you will. i always thought he was kinda gay

2. varjak paw (varjak paw)

depsite how often i mention this guy, hes actually my second favorite fictional cat ....i love him dearly though. probably the first main character i read about who WAS a cat, and his story was always pretty interesting. had the "paw" suffix before warrior cats had even come out.

1. gareth (time cat)

the real winner of cats i love forever and ever. hi gareth. you are so special to me. he can talk to humans and time travel also. i just loved this book so much ive read it quite a few times now all for you gareth <3

HONORABLE MENTIONS

fritti tailchaser (tailchasers song) - i never read this book. but people love this cat for probably good reason

bluestar (warrior cats) - did not include any warriors characters due to the pure excessive amount of them existing, and also wanting more unique options

pete the cat (pete the cat) - he has shoes

wonderful alexander (catwings) - hes funny and weird and orange . i liked him

puss in boots (fairy tale) - cat with a sword is just a pretty badass concept

silversides (ragweed) - not really a cat i like im just using this as an excuse to promote mouse xenofiction again. avi has a bunch of stories about mice living in the forest and city if anyones interested .

tao (the incredible journey) - i also didnt read this book. sorry. im making a list of stuff to read now and this is on it ! but this book is iconic so probably for a good reason.

okay my list ^ goodbye now.

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