#skinner would call bullshit on anyone else

[tacticaldiary]

Having a relationship w/ Oikawa based on a bet and the gf heard it when the seijoh 4 talked about it making oikawa panicked when he knows his gf heard it.. ahh angst to fluff? Hehe thank youuuu

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This was fun to write. :)

Betting on You

Pairing: Reader x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, a lil fluff

He couldn’t lose her, anyone but her. He shouldn’t have accepted the bet. Needless to say, Oikawa Tooru has a lot of regrets right now. Opening up and being vulnerable to his partner was thankfully not one of them, even if it had ended up with them crying in each others arms. 

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Mumbling incoherently, Y/N reaches out next to her in the bed, trying to find the warm body that usually occupied the space next her. Frowning when she feels only the bedsheets, she opens her eyes and squints. There’s no one next to her. 

“Tooru?” she mutters softly, yawning and sitting up. He was always there, clinging to her, holding her close. Strange. She decides to wait for him, wanting his warmth to fall asleep with. The guy was like a living heater, which was useful during cold winter nights like this one. 

Twenty minutes pass and he still doesn’t come back. Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N sighs and pulls herself to the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of slippers. She shivers a little when the cold air hits her skin, but continues slowly towards the door to their shared bedroom. Opening it with a quiet creak, she immediately hears voices. A little confused, she quietly keeps walking, stopping at the doorway to the living room. 

She tilts her head in confusion when she sees Tooru laying on the couch, tapping away at his phone. It appears he’s on a voice call on speaker. 

“Almost three months.”

“Honestly, none of us expected you to last this long.”

Her eyes widen as she hears familiar voices. Matsukawa and Hanamaki?

“You’re still keeping him to that?” Iwaizumi? What were they doing this late at night? The clock on the wall tells her it’s 2 in the morning. 

“Obviously. I thought the money was pretty much guaranteed.”

“Can you blame us? He’s never kept someone around for more than a month.”

“Shut up.” Tooru's quiet voice reaches her ears. What money? What was going on?

“You’re not going to win.” comes Iwaizumi’s annoyed voice. “It’s Y/N.”

“Yeah, but before her it was also Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan and Aiko-Chan and-”

“Alright, I get it. Iwa-Chan’s the only one who’s on my side.” he pouts, cutting off Hanamaki’s annoying high-pitched imitation of him. 

“We still don’t know why. You’re obviously going to lose the bet. It’s inevitable.” Matsukawa claim confidently

...Bet?

“I’ll win in a few days, if you haven’t noticed. Nothing’s gonna happen in a few days.” Tooru rolls his eyes.

“And then you’ll dump her?”

Y/N suddenly feels cold, and it has nothing to do with the weather. Dump her? Bet? WHat was going on? Her mind was racing. Tooru hadn’t indicated that he was unhappy, or wanted to break up. He was always telling her how much he loved her. Was he lying? She felt a little sick at the thought.

“Yeah, the bet was to keep someone around for more than three months. You’ll be done in a few days. What’re you gonna do then?”

What?

“A bet?” she says aloud, her voice hollow with shock.

Tooru jumps and drops his phone, quickly turning around to see his girlfriend looking at him in horror. 

“Y-Y/N-Chan...” he scrambles to his feet and ends the call, wondering how much she had heard. “I thought you were asleep?” he quickly moves towards her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. He freezes when she backs away, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“A bet, Tooru? A bet?” 

“What-? Wait, Y/N...it’s not what you think-”

“Keep me around? You were dating me for a...bet?” her voice starts shaking a little, as she remembers how mere hours ago, he was holding her, assuring her how much he loved her.

“No! I-”

“Am I a game to you? A bet? Are you fucking kidding me?” She nearly laughs, because of course he would only date her for a bet. Of course. 

He frantically shakes his head, reaching out for her again, but thinking better of it when he glares at him with eyes full of unshed tears. His eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “Y/N-Chan, listen to me, please, let me explain.” he sounds panicked. 

She clenches her jaw. “I should have seen this coming. Of course the Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t go out with someone like me.” She lets out a bitter chuckle at his stunned expression. Before he can interrupt, she pushes on. “Why would you, when you have girls, so much more perfect than me, throwing themselves at your feet all the time?”

“Y/N-” he’s trying desperately to get a word in, wincing when she raises her voice to overpower his. 

“Mika-Chan and Yui-Chan and Hina-Chan.” she imitates, recalling the phone call. Tears she’s tried to keep at bay finally start trickling down and Oikawa’s heart twists painfully, knowing that he was the one who caused it. “Obviously, the only reason you’d consider me was because of a bet, a fucking bet, Tooru.” she cries out angrily. 

“Y/N-Chan, listen to me.” he says seriously, grabbing her shoulder and looking her in the eyes. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the beginning. The bet means nothing to me.”

Her next word feel like a punch to the gut. 

“Bullshit.” she whispers, before repeating herself louder. “Utter bullshit. You never loved me.”

“I did, I do!” he insists. 

“If you did, it wouldn’t have taken a bet for you to ask me out!” she roughly shoves his hands off her. Taking a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore his hurt look. “It’s my fault too, isn’t it? I should’ve known better than to accept dating the Oikawa Tooru, the school heartthrob, notorious for playing around.” her words are laced with venom and self-pity. “There’s always gonna be someone better. Someone prettier, skinner, funnier. I was stupid for thinking you would ever fall for me.” All her insecurities come spilling out, accumulated from months of dating him, enduring the comments whispered under the breath by jealous students, girls openly flirting with her boyfriend. She was stupid to think she would ever be enough.

Pushing past him, wiping her sleeves across her eyes, she storms back into the bedroom, Oikawa at her heels behind her. She grabs her pillow and a blanket, turning back around and moving to the couch in the living room. She does her best to ignore her boyfriend's desperate attempts to gain her attention, begging her to give him a chance to explain. She sets up the items and lays on the couch, pulling the blanket to her chin and turning to face the back of the couch.

She refused to sleep anywhere near him. When he doesn’t stop talking she says coldly:

“Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

“No.”

She pauses. “No?”

“Not until you hear me out.” He crosses his arms.

“I’ve heard enough.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. If you’d just let me explain-”

“I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

He was dreading that. He really does love her, so fucking much. He doesn't want to lose her.

“Y/N-”

“I’m going to sleep.” She had never spoken to him in that tone before.

She hears a sigh after a few moments of silence, in which he realises that she was going to be stubborn till the end. Y/N hears him walk away and she buries her face in the blanket, silently crying to herself. She freezes when she hears the bedroom door close with a ‘click’ and footsteps approaching her. She turns around a little, to see Oikawa sitting at the foot of the couch with his own blanket and pillow. He doesn’t look at her, focusing on fluffing his pillow and pulling his thicker, warmer quilt over himself. He was equally as stubborn and wasn’t going to leave her alone like this.

She scoffs and settles back down again, still crying. If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it. The two lay in silence for a good thirty minutes. Y/N had stopped crying, but was still awake because how the hell was she supposed to fall asleep after what she had learnt? 

She’s startled when she suddenly hears Oikawa’s soft voice. “I love you, you know? I really do. Ever since I saw you in Chemistry last year. You caught my eye so quickly, and I flirted with you for weeks before you got the hint.” he laughs breathily. “You didn’t want my attention like everyone else, and I was curious. It felt different to be the one trying to get someone else’s attention.” he takes a deep breath, and she realises with a start that she’s never heard him this vulnerable. He probably thinks she’s asleep. 

“I was planning to ask you out before and I told the others and they laughed at me.” he frowns at the memory. “The assholes thought I was kidding, that I wasn’t serious. Iwa-Chan was the only one who took it seriously. I don’t blame them, cause I’d only ever dated for fun before.” He breathes in deeply again, steadying his voice and Y/N’s eyes widen when she realizes he’s holding back tears. 

“So when they bet that I couldn't last more than 3 months with you, I agreed, but only because I was going to ask you out anyway, and I intended on staying as long as I could. As long as you’d let me stay by your side.” He lets out a sad, watery chuckle, and Y/N feels her stomach drop. She never wanted to hear that sound from him again.

“I...shit, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. You’re the only one for me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” A strangled, muffled sob, reaches her ears, and it takes all of her willpower to remain still. 

“I’m serious about you...about us. You’re not a game, you never were. I just wanted to be with you. I want to be able to hold you again.” another muffled cry, as he buries his face in his hands. He’d never willingly let anyone see himself like this, not even Y/N. He was glad she was asleep. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, princess.” he stays where he is, sitting up leaning back on the couch, calming himself down, letting out soft hiccups every now and then. 

Y/N is wide awake, thinking over his words. They had to be genuine, right? He had no idea she was awake. He had sounded so...real and vulnerable, nothing like the strong façade he usually put up in front of others. Taking her chances, she discreetly moves, eyes widening when she sees the state he’s in. 

One of his hands is over his mouth, muffling his small sobs, Y/N wants to cry as she realises it’s probably so he doesn’t wake her up. His other hand is clenched tightly in his brown hair, his knees drawn to his chest. His face was blotchy and red and wet with tears. She’s never seen him like this. She moves and he doesn’t notice. 

Sitting directly behind him, she gently grabs the hand in his hair, to which he nearly jumps out of his skin. Y/N would usually laugh at the reaction, if not for the way he was looking up at her. She eases his hand out of his hair and holds it, tugging him up to the couch. He hesitates, before climbing up, sitting on the cushion next to her. 

“You-” his voice wavers, and he tries again. “You were awake?”

She nods, glancing at their connected hands, before staring at the ground. She hears his sharply take in a breath. 

“Y/N...love, I meant it. I meant every word, I swear.” 

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” she mumbles, tugging on his hand again, until they're both laying on the couch. She reaches over and grabs Oikawa’s quilt and pulls it on the two of them. She relaxes against him when his arms automatically wind around her waist and he buries his face in her hair, pressing small kisses on her. Each was an unspoken apology. 

She knows he’s crying when she feels the tears hit her skin. 

He knows she’s crying when he can feel her shaky, irregular breaths.

They lay there, eventually falling asleep clutching each other tightly, both of them hurting on the inside. They would have to have a serious talk tomorrow, but both had a blooming hope that they would pull through. 

Requests are open and Welcome. Thanks for reading!

#fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fandom #fanfic #oikawa angst #tooru oikawa #oikawa tōru #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa x you #haikyuu x reader #y/n #oikawa torū #oikawa x y/n #aoba josai x reader #aoba johsai #hurt comfort #angst #fluff #oikawa #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #x reader #tooru #oikawa tooru #hq x reader

[shannonhutchins]

Josh Lyman Headcannons

So as if we didn’t know I have clearly fallen down a West Wing rabbit hole and I have lots of feelings about this wildly geeky and monomaniacal man so clearly everyone else should be subjected to these thoughts.

✨ Josh is dyslexic; I think he was formally diagnosed in middle school after the fire.  I think before middle school, Josh was a good student who coasted a bit because the material was easier to understand so he could kind of coast by a bit on his natural smarts.  But after the fire it was a perfect storm of events--he gets a bit lost in grief, he missed some school because of its aftermath, and middle school was getting harder and the pace was faster.  Anyways, he was actually really angry when he was first diagnosed.  After the fire, he vowed to be a perfect son because he didn’t want to add extra stress to his parents who were already dealing with so much so he thought it was a personal failure to get diagnosed.

✨ Josh also thought it was a sign of weakness to be dyslexic and his mom spent the better part of a month after he was diagnosed saying it wasn't but Josh just figured that was his mom, well being his mom. He had a tutor, Alexis, when he was first diagnosed.  His parents were surprised at how patient she was with Josh because most of the teachers after the fire remarked on how withdrawn he became, how he was prone to angry outbursts, and was just sort of unpredictable but Alexis took it all in stride.  She let him throw his tantrums before calmly trying to get him back on track.  By the end of their sessions Josh had picked up study habits, coping strageties on how to deal with school when it got stressful, and organizational habits.  Josh used those same strategies all the way through adulthood--its why he is always quick to work through memos out loud and with other people so he can bounce ideas off of them so he can be sure he is getting everything and to anyone else his office looked like a cluttered mess. And to anyone but Josh it was but then systems worked for him--he always knew where to find files much to the surprise of everyone else.

✨ I also think he boasts so much about his verbal SAT score because that type of test isn’t geared towards people who learned the way he learned.  he studied for months for that test because he knew if he wanted to go Ivy League he needed a competitive score.

✨ Josh has so much survivors guilt; like its a lot. Even thirty years alter he hated himself for running out of the house that night--he hated that he acted on autopilot without even thinking about Joanie.  His parents, in the months following the fire, were a mess--his dad threw himself into work and his mom became obsessive with helping out at their local synagogue.  Josh just sort of fell through the cracks because of it.  It wasn’t until he had a panic attack at Shea Stadium because someone was selling burned popcorn that Noah and Ruth realized how much they’d neglected their sons trauma.

✨ A dark place within Josh always kind of thought his parents resented Josh for living and would have preferred that Joanie lived instead.  He was sure she would have been less of a hassle and given them grandkids much earlier than he ever could have.  He never voiced that particular thought out loud until he started seeing Dr. Weeks in there aftermath of his PTSD diagnosis.  Dr. Weeks was also the first therapist that called Josh out on his bullshit and never let him skate by with anything less than honesty.  Sure she’d table things Josh wasn't ready to talk about but she always circled back and as the sessions wore on she noticed that Josh would sometimes circle back to things before she even brought it up again.  About a year into seeing Dr. Weeks Josh brings his mom to one of his sessions and they talk a lot about Joanie and the fire that day.  That’s when Josh admits that he sometimes wishes Joanie had lived instead.  Ruth just like breaks down because she never thought her son felt this way and all she says is that she’s thankful that he’s here now and that she felt the same when she saw him sitting in the back of a firetruck covered in ash and she can’t imagine a world where he wasn’t in it.  Josh still doesn’t fully let go of that guilt but that session went a long way to bringing him closure.

✨Josh grew up wealthy and because of that he could attend schools like Harvard and Yale; he clearly grew up with a certain amount of privilege but he also put in a lot of work to get there and stay there.  Like I said, he lived with massive amounts of survivor guilt and he always felt like he had to do great things as a way ti justify the fact that he lived.  To do that he sacrificed having and developing a personal life to throw himself into doing well at Harvard and then building connections at Yale he could leverage into job opportunities on the hill after he graduated.

✨ Also, I know canonically Josh dated women but in my headcanon he’s gay.  I think he dates Amy and Mandy because he so desperately wants to fit into the boxes men like him are supposed to fit into.  Also, because he was so focused on developing his academic track record he never had much time to think growing up about his dating preferences.  Sure he would stare a little too long at men and wonder what it would feel like to have one of them on top of him but he always thought once he found the right girl those thoughts would just....not be there anymore.  He’s afraid to admit to himself that he's gay because then that would mean he’d have to admit it to his parents, his friends etc and that TERRIFIES him.

✨ The first person he tells is Matt Skinner and he’s unsurprisingly very helpful as Josh tries to navigate the whole acceptance and coming out thing.  Matt also releases a very short, but terse press release the day Josh is outed and goes toe to toe with leadership when they want to use his sexuality as some sort of leveraging bargain chip in negotiations with him.

✨ Again, my headcannon is that Josh is outed (and really you can thank @callixton for making me want to write this story!).  His mom us surprised at first when she reads the story in the Washington Post about how he’s gay, the PTSD etc--and then she’s so angry reading the comments below the articles online.  She had to disconnect the phone because so many reporters wanted her comment and all she could think of was that she couldn’t be in Florida anymore.  She packed a small bag and grabbed the first flight she could to DC and bypasses the White House in favor of going straight to Josh’s Georgetown townhouse.  Ruth finds him sitting in the dark with his suit coat balled up in his hands.  Josh doesn’t fight her when she pulls him to her chest; they just sit like that for an hour before he seems to register her being there.  She’s surprised that he hasn’t cried and by the looks of how put together his apartment was that he hadn’t thrown anything in anger either.  All Ruth says is, “you’ll always be my son and nothing will ever stop me from loving you,” and then Josh finally just loses it.

✨ Toby drops by later that afternoon and offers to sit with Josh while Ruth runs out for Chinese food which was always Josh’s favorite go to comfort food. Toby doesn’t say much but does offer to introduce him to some of his friends in the community and that no matter what Toby, Donna, and Sam weren’t going anywhere.  Josh doesn’t miss the fact that he didn’t mention Leo but still he smiles weekly at Toby and says that he should stay for dinner.

#josh lyman #the west wing #josh lyman headcannons #of course this got long #callixton #shannon writes #anyways let me know what you guys think

[masterthespianduchovny]

The Truth is Out There (Part 1):

Summer 2008

The utility worker makes his way to the building. The sun beats down his neck, but he’s unbothered by the heat as a thin sheen a sweat forms where the cap meets his head. Pleasantly, he smiles and slightly nods at the woman holding the door for him.

Unnoticed, the utility worker passes by customers and employers, expertly navigating his way to the boiler room. 

Locking the door behind him, the man gets to work. He’s pulls out various items, some of which seemingly have nothing to do with the task at hand: a syringe, a black substance in a bottle, and a band. 

Inspecting his items, he then pulls out a large wrench and a cylinder object. It has buttons on it and a countdown timer.

The man makes easy work of getting a tightly screwed pipe off, and then partially slides the cylinder into the pipe. Fiddling with the buttons, a beeper goes off and the cylinder slides completely within the pipe.

After the man finishes screwing the pipe back into place, he grabs the syringe and fills it with the black substance.

He waits.

His eyes are hard and determined.

Another beep. The man sits down and grabs his laid out items.

Tying the band around his arm, it doesn’t take him long to find the vein, and then insert the syringe in himself.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes snaps shut as the needle pierces his skin. The man exhales as the substance flows through his veins.

His eyes fly open and small, black lines are on his eyes.

Efficiently, he places all of the discriminating items in his worker bag, and then unlocks the door. He makes it a few steps before he and his bag falls to the floor.

No one sees him falls as everyone else fell unconscious themselves moments prior.

Fall 2008

“...I DO SO LIKE GREEN EGGS AND HAM! THANK YOU! THANK YOU, SAM I AM.” 

The library worker strummed his fingers along the spine of the book as he smiled at the claps from children and their parents.

They waved goodbye at him as their parents gathered him.

“Carl,” said Majorie, extending a hand out to her daughter. “You’re just showing off at this point.”

Smiling, Carl bowed his head. “I’ve tried reading without the book, but you know kids, they love the theatrics. It’s only impressive to them if I start reading the book, and then tell the story from memory.”

Majorie chuckled.

“Thank you for this.” She gestured to the book. “Ever since the divorce, after school care has been so hard to find and...story time is a God send.”

“It’s no problem, really.” Carl crossed his arms, and then looked at the girl Bethany. “The kids are doing my wife a favor, it’s like an after school care of sorts for myself. If I didn’t have this I’d be driving my wife up the wall sending her thousands of emails.”

Amused, Majorie smiled. “I know parenthood isn’t everyone’s path, but I’m surprised you aren’t a father. You’re just so good with kids.”

Biting his lip, Carl looked off. “Uh...well, that wasn’t in our cards.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine, Majorie.” He waved off her concern. “I need to straighten up in here, but I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Carl stacked the surplus small chairs and put them in their designated corner. He then gently tossed the beanbags near the back wall. After collecting and putting away stray items, he exited the event room.

The next hour or so, he busied himself putting away returned books, but manned the information desk twice for a handful of minutes each. Once, so Ashanti could go to the bathroom and another as she made a quick personal call. Carl didn’t mind since he was almost finished with the return pile. Due to his eidetic memory, Carl remembered the location of books and the filing system as clear as day.

Filing was light work for Carl.

As soon as he finished with his last book, he joined Ashanti at the desk. Whenever they were assigned together, they chose a topic to debate through their shift.

The topic: Harry Potter v Percy Jackson

Who was the stronger protagonist? Which themes are embodied better in their respective series? Which series has stronger supporting characters? And which author was more effective in their series?

Knowing how beloved the Harry Potter series was to Ashanti, Carl let her argue in favor of the series. Although he enjoyed the series himself, he personally leaned towards Rick Riordan and his series. Because he knew how passionate Ashanti was about all things Harry Potter, the debate was going to be especially fun for him.

Just as Carl began to argue his position after listening to Ashanti, someone asked for assistance. 

“No cheating while I’m gone,” Carl warned.

Ashanti rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to cheat, old man.”

Carl grabbed his heart as he walked backwards. 

The two looked at each other and laughed.

In his life, Carl’s been accused of many things and paranoid was at the top of the list. As he assisted the visitor, Carl felt as if he was being watched. Men and women pretending to be occupied with books or the computer, hell, even making small talk with Ashanti, but casting quick glances in his direction.

Just because he’d been called paranoid more times than he could count doesn’t mean he was wrong.

Carl finished up with the visitor and pointed towards the information desk. Discreetly, he patted his pockets and he checked his mental map of the other exists. Obscuring the eyesight of him by going to the other side of the book shelfs, Carl hurriedly walked to the side door. As the distance increased between him and the other library occupants, he heard someone yell:

“He’s making a run for it.”

Carl put up a valiant fight. He ducked, dodged, and outran longer than anyone would’ve imagined, he’d bet. But, if only he was a little quicker--spotted them a little sooner, he would’ve made it out of the side door, instead of being tackled near the front entrance.

A knee was in his back as handcuffs were tightened around his wrists.

“What is this about? What do you want?” Carl yelled. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Fox Mulder, you’re under the arrest for...”

Mulder zoned out.

Granted, he knew the FBI could’ve found him if they wanted to, but he assumed that they didn’t give a shit where he was as long as he wasn’t the Bureau’s problem anymore.

Although he never felt truly comfortable due to being on the run, he thought he was in the safe. And yet...they were still trying to make him serve justice for a bullshit crime.

As Mulder was led out of the library, he saw Majorie and Bethany approach. They were shocked to see him in handcuffs being led out by FBI agents.

Scully.

He needed to talk to her.

Although she hadn’t been a fugitive like himself, since the FBI knew where he was, they had to know she was involved. Hell, they were together. Who knows how long they’d been surveilled. 

An hour later, he was in an interrogation room, handcuffed to the table.

His old boss walked in moments later.

“Skinner? What is this? What’s going on?”

Looking at the two way glass, Skinner said, “Uncuff this man.” Sitting down, he looked at Mulder. “Long time no see.”

“Not long enough apparently.” Mulder rubbed his wrists after the metal rings came off. “Where's Scully?”

“On her way,” Skinner answered. “Don’t worry, she hasn’t been arrested.”

Mulder stared Skinner, and then the file on the table. Skinner has always inhabited many roles and leveraged his position as he saw fit. This wasn’t about Knowle Rohrer. Just like he thought, the charges were bogus and the FBI didn’t give a shit about the murder. It was all about having him out of their hair.

Leaning back in the metal chair, Mulder looked at Skinner again. “Why was I arrested?”

“That was the only way we could get you in a room.”

Biting back what he truly wanted to say, Mulder said instead, “I can think of other ways.”

“Cut the crap, Mulder, you and I both know you would’ve slipped out of our radar again.” Skinner gave him a hard stare. “Look, we need your help.”

“And why would I do that?” Mulder looked at the two way glass. “I just got re-arrested on bullshit murder charges again, Walt. The last thing I want to do is help the FBI with anything.”

Uncomfortably, Skinner shifted in his seat. “Shortly after you were escorted in here, the charges and...conviction was taken care of.”

“Oh really, that simple.” Mulder narrowed his eyes at Skinner.

He didn’t have anything against his former boss. Skinner did help him escape and most likely thwarted efforts of his capture years before it happen. But, Mulder was still angry about what happened--about all of it. Skinner was just a convenient scapegoat. 

“I get it, you’re angry, but we need your help on this--you and Scully,” he clarified. “I don’t want to take credit for having your charges and conviction cleared because what happened was a gross interpretation and handling of justice. But, the FBI needs you.”

Skinner slid the folder in front of Mulder.

“No one knows more about this stuff than you two.” Mulder’s brows furrowed as he looked through the file. “You have every reason not to trust the FBI or--or want to work with us, but we have no one else to go to.”

“And, if I don’t help?” 

Skinner caught Mulder’s meaning. “Your record will still be clean.”

“But, not my conscious.” Mulder closed the folder and looked at it in thought. “Any other cases.”

Skinner nodded. “A duplex in upstate New York and a chicken plant in Kansas. Officially, all three were said to be gas leaks. Spread far apart enough not to cause any panic or raise any questions.”

“For both the perpetrators and the FBI,” Mulder supplied. “But, someone or something has possession of live black oil and they're going around and weaponizing it.”

“An agent from the BSU made a profile suggesting that these...incidents are trial runs.”

“That much is obvious,” Mulder mumbled to himself. “Why publicly?”

“What do you mean?”

Mulder shook his head. “These tests are usually done under the cover of night. In the shadows. In controlled situations. But, with the duplex, the bank, and the factory, it’s an attack. A public one at that. And they're allowing the government to control the narrative. Why?”

#the x files #mulder #scully #iwtb rewrite #msr #the truth is out there

[atths--twice]

Rumor Has It...

Going through my stories and I don’t think I’ve posted this here before. I honestly was not super aware of how to post stories here for the longest time. Anyway, even if I had, no reason not to post it again, eh? We could always use more fics to read, right? 

This story was written for the summer fanfic exchange last year. The prompt was this: “Something a la Gillovny Cutting Room party era rumors, but MSR.” Now... this was a little tricky, but I got the job done. : ) 

Hope you enjoy. : ) 

The basement in the J. Edgar Hoover building, was always subject to rumor and urban legend. Even when no one worked down there, nor had any desire to, it was still discussed. Boxes, old files, and copy machines were all that occupied the space for years, and yet stories were still told of it.

There were far too many dark corners where a person could meet for a rendezvous with another for there not to be rumors. No one ventured down there too often, so the space was perfect. The whispers that reached the ears of agents becoming a mixture of fact and fiction.

While time had changed some things, it had not changed everything. The copy machines were taken out, files cleared away, and boxes tossed as they became too weak and ripped when relocation was attempted. A small bathroom was added to the space, and a storage area was walled off to better confine, contain, and organize the  files, keeping them out of the open area and behind a locked door where they could no longer be easily rummaged through. People agreed it looked much better, but still it was not an area with heavy foot traffic or spoken of too often.

That is, until the day Fox “Spooky” Mulder took up residence down there. That was when the rumors really began. He was thought to be a crazy alien nut who liked the weird cases. Cases others would not touch. He was hardly seen wandering the halls. Instead, he immersed himself in his ideas and theories.

Fox Mulder was brilliant, and also quite handsome. Some women overlooked his “spookiness” and tried to get his attention. They flirted when they saw him and asked him about the cases he worked on, but none of them stuck around long. His answers were so long winded that those who asked often required a bread crumb trail to find their way back to reality.

No, for the majority of his time in the basement office, Mulder was considered weird and generally avoided by his colleagues who did not wish to be treated to a story about Sasquatch or aliens. The rumors about him were rampant, but for the most part, Mulder was left to his own devices.

That all changed the day he was assigned a new partner, Dana Scully. She was a fairly new agent, a medical doctor recruited to join the FBI as a forensic pathologist. Dana Scully had arrived with rumors of her own.

“Do you really think that’s her natural hair color?”

“Did you hear she dated Jack Willis? He’s so much older than her. I guess he likes them young.”

Perhaps one of the worst rumors, especially considering she did date Jack, was the name she acquired at the academy: The Ice Queen. She was rumored to turn down men and not “put out,”even after being wined and dined. She was also rumored to be a ball buster who was frigid because she did not date fellow agents. As if her dating life was a measure of who she was as a person.

Women who tried to get Mulder’s attention before Scully showed up, were envious and rude towards her, leaving her disinterested in forming relationships, even with colleagues her same age who had similar backgrounds. This only served to perpetuate the rumors circulated, but Scully did not let the rumors affect her, knowing it would make no difference if she tried to quell them or not. She was not one who required many friends, and she enjoyed her work. She kept her head down and worked, not worrying over relationships, hers or anyone else’s.

Not until early on a Tuesday morning, when a wild rumor flew resulting in them being called to Skinner’s office to answer some questions, did she give it much thought.

Sitting outside his office, waiting for Mulder to arrive, Scully clasped and unclasped her hands, breathing deeply. Closing her eyes, she put her head down, the call to come to Skinner’s office still ringing in her ear, his shout like an echo.

“Hey." She heard Mulder say quietly as he sat next to her on the couch. She opened her eyes and looked at him, watching him smooth down his tie as he smiled slightly at her. “So how angry is he?” He tilted his head toward the door and Scully shook her head.

“Agents? You can go in now,” said Arlene, Skinner’s secretary, with a slight smile. Scully sighed as she stood up and walked toward the door with Mulder following close behind her.

Entering the room, Skinner had his back to them, looking out the window. No one else was in the room, and Scully sighed again as she sat down, Mulder taking the seat beside her. He glanced at her, but she did not look at him, her eyes facing forward waiting for Skinner to turn around.

A few minutes passed before Mulder cleared his throat, and Skinner’s shoulders slumped before he turned around. He stared at both of them, his gaze holding on Scully’s as he breathed deeply.

“I take no pleasure in calling both of you in here to discuss the things that have come to my attention. I believe you know that Agent Scully, considering our phone call earlier,” Skinner said, his eyes burning into hers. She sighed and nodded slightly.

“Sir, I’m afraid I’m out of the loop. Agent Scully said you wanted to see us, but …” Mulder said in confusion, and Skinner sighed.

“Agent Mulder, I’m referring to some information that has reached my ears regarding this past weekend at the team building workshop. More to the point, after said workshop … in the ... hotel lounge area.”

Scully watched Mulder as Skinner spoke and saw his face change, his eyes unable to meet hers save for the quick flick her way. He lowered his head as he leaned forward and locked his fingers together.

“Sir, I’m still confused. As I told you earlier, I don’t remember much about that night. I … I had a couple of glasses of wine and …” she said, looking at Mulder before looking back at Skinner. “I didn’t … I know I wouldn’t get up on stage and sing. Much less play a tambourine …”

“Scully …” Mulder said in a whisper, his head shaking imperceptibly. She kept staring at him, and he finally glanced her way, nodding his head.

“What?” she asked, horrified.

“Sir, could we have-”

“Why don’t I-” Skinner said over Mulder, tilting his head towards the door as he made his exit, leaving the two of them alone.

Scully watched him leave and then turned back to Mulder, her eyebrows raised. “What the hell, Mulder?” she said quietly.

“Scully, it wasn’t just a couple of glasses of wine,” he sighed and stared at her.

“Maybe a mixed drink too, but, I wasn’t out of control. And, Jesus, if I was having fun whose business is it here? It was after the stupid workshop, on my own time,” she said, her anger rising. “I don’t need to be lectured like a child and be forced to apologize for my actions. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this,” she said, starting to stand only to be stopped by Mulder.

“I don’t believe that is why we're here today, Scully,” he quietly said as he held tight to her arm. “Half the people at the workshop were drinking and acting the fool, much worse than you.” She glared at him and angrily shrugged his hand off her arm. “I’m not implying you were acting like a fool, just stating how others were behaving,” he quickly added, smiling slightly.

“If that’s the case, then why the hell am I being singled out? Because I’m a woman? A woman who generally doesn’t “act a fool” as you say, and so I have to be made an example of for the men in the office? You know, this is the kind of bullshit that stops women from pursuing careers in these fields. This boys club mentality that exists and women never have a chance-”

“It’s because I punched Tom Colton for the things he said about you,” came Mulder’s raised voice, immediately silencing her. She stared at him in utter disbelief and he nodded his head.

“What?” she whispered. “Tom? I have no recollection of him being there. Not in any capacity.” She shook her head, and he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“He wasn’t there in connection to the weekend, he was just … there. I saw him when I was at the bar waiting for our drinks, which were definitely not wine,” he sighed, looking down at his hands before looking at her. “Scully, you were standing on the stage and singing or attempting to, and someone did hand you a tambourine.” He stared at her, and she shook her head, to which he nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Mulder … I have no memory of that, not even a little …” she stopped as she suddenly did have a recollection of standing and shaking a tambourine, people singing and talking loudly, the room unbearably hot. “Oh my God, Mulder.” The door opened as she felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed beyond belief.

“Sir, we’ve come to an understanding and I want to apologize for what I did, and I will speak to Agent Colton and apologize to him as well as soon as we leave your office,” Mulder said, standing up as Skinner entered the room.

“Agent Colton?” Skinner asked, his face puzzled.

“Yes, Sir. Is this not about me punching Agent Colton in the face?”

“You did what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner shouted, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Uhhhh,” Mulder stammered and looked down at Scully for help, but she was still seated and had her hand partially covering her face.

“Agent Mulder, this meeting was about … things that were witnessed and heard outside of Agent Scully’s hotel room. And downstairs by the elevators beforehand,” Skinner said pointedly.

“The ... elevators? Oh ...” Mulder said and sat back down with a sigh, as Scully looked at him, confusion on her face.

Skinner sighed, sitting down behind his desk, and Scully looked between them, waiting for one of them to speak. “Mulder, why did you punch Agent Colton? Do I need to make a call?” Skinner finally asked quietly.

“I … uh, I don’t think so, if he hasn’t said anything?” Mulder said, not sounding entirely certain.

“What would make you punch him, Mulder?” Scully asked him and he looked at her, his eyes telling her she did not need to hear it. “Mulder?” He sighed and shook his head, but she continued staring at him, forcing him to speak.

“He made comments about you that were not becoming of one agent about another. I made myself known and told him to watch his words. He and his buddies seemed to think that was funny, and then he said something else … so I punched him. He deserved it, and I don’t regret it,” Mulder said to her with a glance at Skinner who sighed and shook his head.

“What did he say, Mulder?” she whispered.

“Scully,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I need to know.”

“You don’t,” he told her gently. “That guy is an asshole and that punch was a long time coming. I don’t regret it one bit, other than it took so long.” He smiled, and she stared at him, searching his face. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, her head down.

Skinner cleared his throat and she looked up. “That uh, it doesn’t cover why I called you both here as at least one of those things is not a problem.”

“Neither of them is a problem if you know Agent Colton,” Mulder murmured, and Scully shook her head.

Skinner sighed again and looked down at the desk. “There were a few agents who expressed concern over … actions they saw between the two of you.” He looked up, and Scully frowned at him, still not knowing what he meant. He looked at Mulder who nodded and shook his head, which caused Skinner to sigh once more. “Look, I know that … male/female partnerships are subject to scrutiny more so than traditional same sex partnerships, I do. Just … you two seem to attract more attention, and when I hear things from others …”  he sighed again, and Scully stood abruptly to her feet, finally realizing what they were talking about.

She looked at each of them, unable to speak, her anger and embarrassment too high. Turning around she walked out of the office, past Arlene and to the stairwell, not having any patience or desire to wait for the elevator to take her to the basement office.

Two flights down though, she stopped and sat on the steps, her head in her hands. The night was coming back to her now, tumbling through her brain, almost begging to be remembered.

The heat of the room and the feel of the tambourine in her hands, made her feel happy and giggly, definitely past tipsy but not completely drunk. A drink was handed to her, and she saw Mulder’s smile as he shook his head and stepped back into the crowd.

She drank it down quickly, the alcohol burning her throat and then her stomach, but making her feel braver and bolder. The song ended and the crowd cheered. She laughed and handed the tambourine to some woman next to her, her eyes searching for Mulder as she did.

Stumbling down the small stage, she felt a hand on her elbow and looked to see Mulder beside her, his smile huge. “You’re just full of surprises, Scully,” he said close to her ear as a new song started and everyone cheered again.  

As they came through the crowd of people, she turned to look at him, losing her footing resulting in his arms catching her before she fell. The closeness of him made her dizzy, more so than any alcohol. He smelled so good and she told him so, his eyes widening in response. She laughed and pulled on his tie, bringing him closer to her, and allowing her to smell him closer.

“Scully,” he breathed, his voice low and close to her ear.

“Mulder. God, you make me …” she said, her words drowned out as the crowd erupted again.

Her eyes flew open as she remembered what she said and the words burned like hot lava inside her, destroying everything in its path. How was she supposed to be around him now that she remembered what she said? She needed to leave and never come back, the words too embarrassing to live with, much less think of every day with his eyes watching her.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice echoing in the empty stairwell, as she suddenly remembered it was more than simply the words she said to him. There had been … touching.

A lot of touching.

She stood up and continued hurriedly down the stairs, determined to grab her things and get out of the office before Mulder saw her. Pushing the door open she looked left and right, walking past shelves of boxes, trying not to be seen.

Unlocking their office door, she put her keys in her pocket and quickly went to grab her bag and her phone. Items secured, she reached for the doorknob as the door opened and there stood Mulder. He stared at her in surprise and then frowned when he saw her bag in her hand.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, closing the door behind him. She could not look at him, the words she said to him that night burning in her mind, teasing her tongue to tell him again.

“Mulder. God, you make me … so wet.”

“I … uh yeah … I forgot I have … um ...” she stammered and tried to step past him, but his hand on her wrist stopped her, forcing her eyes to meet his. Hazel and full of worry and concern, they were the same as that night …

The feel of his hands around her waist, his gasp of surprise at her words, his breath smelling of alcohol, made her knees weak as she stumbled into him. He tightened his grip before pulling back slightly to look at her. His eyes were open, and she felt she could see into his very soul if she looked long enough.

She wrapped his tie around her hand and tugged, bringing his mouth close to hers. Their breath intermingled as his fingers dug into her waist. Someone bumped her from behind, and she fell into his chest. His hard, muscular chest.

But that was not all that was hard.

He groaned and he pulled her closer, making her gasp. “Scully,” he breathed in her ear, and she shuddered against him. “I think … think we should head upstairs.” She nodded against his chest, and he pulled back to look at her. His eyes moved all over her face, and she smiled.

He turned her and led her out, walking behind her. Her pulse was racing. Every place he touched her felt like fire. One she never wanted to extinguish.

At the bank of elevators, he pushed the UP button and as he turned around, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket. She pulled hard until his mouth was on hers, and she kissed him. His hands went to her waist and then he was pulling her into the elevator, his mouth fuzed to hers. He pulled back, breathing hard, shaking his head.

“Mulder,” she moaned, reaching for his tie, but he stopped her, holding her hands between their bodies. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He kept a hold on her hand and walked her down the hall.

At her door, she pulled him in for another kiss, falling against the door as he pushed into her, his tongue exploring her mouth. Her hands went to his hair, and she dug her nails into his neck, making him audibly groan.

He pulled back again, resting his forehead against hers. “Scully,” he whispered and she scraped her fingers along his neck, breathing hard. “Where is your room key?”

“Pocket, I think,” she said, her words feeling and sounding slurry even to her own ears. Mulder nodded and felt in her suit jacket pockets before he found it and opened her door.

She stumbled back, taking her shoes off as she walked inside the room, then trying to unbutton her jacket but her fingers did not cooperate. Forgetting about it, she stumbled to the bed and sat down. The room began to spin and she shook her head, before she fell back and remembered no more.

“I need to go, Mulder,” she said, barely above a whisper, and suppressing a sob. “Please … let me go.”

“You remember,” he said, a statement, not a question, and she nodded, her eyes downcast, embarrassment washing over her. “What do you remember?” Her head snapped up, and she found his eyes soft and understanding, not teasing and not judging.

“I remember …” she began, and he took the bag from her hand, setting it on the small desk, his eyes never leaving hers. “Uhhh …”

“Do you remember my hands being on your waist?” he asked as he put them there once again. “Do you remember how close you were to me? How it felt as though our very breath was mating?” She closed her eyes and leaned into him, whimpering quietly as she did. “Do you remember how my heart was racing? How my breath felt frozen in my chest because of your words, and the thoughts they created in my head?” He pulled her toward him, and she reached for his tie, realizing this was going to end way better than she thought it would when she had considered bolting out the door.

“Do … do you remember how your tie felt like silk when I touched it? How I wanted to run it over other parts of my body to see if it was as soft there, as it was in between my fingers?” she whispered, tugging his tie and making him moan her name. “Do you remember how the heat of the room made me want to strip all my clothes off, but I would have still been too hot, your touch making me ache? Do you remember that, Mulder?” She pulled back to look at him, her eyes seeking that he felt the same way she did, one hundred percent.

“I remember all of that, Scully,” he whispered. “I remember that and so much more.”

“Show me, Mulder,” she said, her fingers under his tie and seeking out the buttons on his shirt, pushing the first one she found through the buttonhole. One finger slid inside and scratched at the heated skin she found there. “Show me everything you remember.”

He stared at her for seconds that felt like forever, before he leaned in and kissed her, his lips just as soft as she remembered. His fingers gripped her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hair and skin as soft and warm as she remembered. He groaned in his throat as his tongue once again explored her mouth, as amazing and delicious as she remembered.

And once again, when she whispered in his ear the effect he had on her, his eyes widened, and he gasped, just as she remembered.

Yes, the basement office in the J. Edgar Hoover building, the one that was home to Fox Mulder and Dana Scully (although her name plate had been ordered, received, and lay in the desk drawer, the execution of it being hung up by either of them had failed) was known for being where odd things resided and strange theories were discussed. On that Tuesday morning, however, there was nothing odd about what was happening up against the wall, causing the doorknob to rattle, and moans to escalate to louder and louder decibels.

Times change, but places where memories have been made, especially the really good ones, the very walls themselves have a tendency to remember. In particular, the walls of a shared basement office, that was avoided by so many and thus created a rather private space for a tryst that had been waiting patiently for seven long years.

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Fanfic Exchange #AU-ish #Drinking #Dancing #Drunk dancing #Flirting #Kissing #Sexy Times in the basement

[dreamingofscully]

6x12. “One Son” (part 2 of 2) - X-Files Rewatch

“Mulder, this stinks, and not just because I think that woman is a... well, I think you know what I think that woman is.” - Scully “No. Actually, you hide your feelings very well.” - Mulder

I found a few things really strange about this episode, so get ready for a deep dive into speculation in order to explain them! (*grumble* stupid mythology episodes)

Also, I apologize (#sorrynotsorry) for my use of caps-lock/bold on this post. I feel very emotional about a lot of things. That doesn’t make this series of episodes good, though, it just makes me have to WORK.

Long LONG post/analysis.

Decon shower. 😲

This joint decon shower is meant to humiliate Scully, to make her feel vulnerable and out-of-sorts. It kinda works. If I didn’t already hate Diana I’d definitely want to murder her after what she does here. 

Scully can’t see much, but Mulder sees quite a bit. It doesn’t really matter that Mulder is there. She trusts him absolutely. It’s her AUTONOMY about it that gets to her, and her suspicions about Diana’s motives. 

With this episode being on the cusp in a change in their relationship, this whole thing is awkward. If they merely felt like friends towards one another, they could laugh it off, but their intense feelings add an extra layer of vulnerability for the both of them (but especially Scully because she is more exposed than Mulder, and he doesn’t particularly care about nudity). You notice the rest of the episode she’s wearing stuff that has more coverage - a turtleneck when she confronts Mulder about Diana, a high-necked shirt in the office with Kersh. She’s definitely feeling more vulnerable.  😕

When Diana comes in - Scully is PISSED. The whole decon procedure is SUSPICIOUS AS FUCK and Scully knows it. 

If they were really concerned about them having contracted some suspicious organism they’d be in quarantine instead of interacting normally with Diana and the other people in the room. You’d need time to test to make sure Mulder and Scully didn’t have whatever organism that Diana claims Cassandra was infected with. Even if you couldn’t test for it, because it was unknown, you’d ISOLATE Mulder and Scully for at least a few weeks.

The ONLY REASON to do all this bullshit is to separate Cassandra. That Mulder can’t see this, won’t take Scully’s word that something is VERY WRONG, must be incredibly frustrating.

Mulder-before-Scully would have trusted the words of a stranger making these excuses because he was a lot more gullible and willing to trust others who gave him a convenient story.

Current Mulder would be more skeptical, and more importantly, would LISTEN TO SCULLY. EXCEPT ITS DIANA FOWLEY. He trusts her without question because of their history, because he believes she loved him, and that is such a RARE experience for him. He loved her too, at one point, and ACTIVELY works to disbelieve any evidence that contradicts his beliefs. He can’t handle yet ANOTHER person betraying him.

Scully is hurt because she doesn’t know this history, doesn’t know that Mulder feels this way, that he is so blinded by his need to believe that she hasn’t betrayed him - THAT HE DOESN’T TRUST HER.

Scully goes to the Gunmen’s again to find out more info about Fowley. She KNOWS Diana is dirty, but she only has her instincts screaming at her, not any proof. She needs to get it, so Mulder will listen and work with her - because he seems unwilling to trust her otherwise. I think she understands that, despite being hurt by it. (Especially since this mirrors their own investigations on the X-Files. Scully won’t believe Mulder without proof, but at least she listens to him, and has learned to listen to his instincts.)

The stuff Scully finds is suspicious, but not conclusive on its own. With her own instincts about Diana, and everything else she’s seen, it’s enough to bring to Mulder though.

Mulder would find it difficult to believe any evidence pointing towards Diana’s guilt. But this is SCULLY. He is initially resistant, cruel in his dismissal of her claims, but he goes to investigate Diana anyway. He has his back up from the start, stubbornly determined not to believe no matter what Scully shows him.

Scully’s beliefs, her distrust, her instincts ARE NOT ENOUGH and this hurts. Coupled with her concerns that Mulder doesn’t completely trust her anymore (The Beginning), this brings back all of her insecurities. She thought things were getting better between them, that they were starting to get back on track, but this makes her think - Can it ever go back to the way it was?

Mulder is determined to believe that Diana is innocent because the alternative is that maybe she never loved him? His life has been so full of manipulative, distant people, that he wants to hold on to the idea that Diana loved him unconditionally, that there was something to their relationship, that he is CAPABLE of having a relationship. Even though his history with Diana pales in comparison to the feelings he has for Scully, his inability to have a normal relationship with ANYONE would make him doubt his ability to do so in the future.

It is only when Scully threatens to leave that he looks into her suspicions for himself. The only thing more unbearable would be to lose her.

Much like Scully being blinded to the truth, to the paranormal, Mulder is blind when it comes to this person. It stems from them both fearing the implications of that belief. For Scully, it’s about not being able to explain the unknown, of having to face unexplainable things without having the bedrock of her science to conquer her fears about them. For Mulder, it’s about his internal struggle with himself - his fear of losing Scully because he can never be good enough, never give her what she wants because he is incapable of a normal relationship.

Scully points out how convenient it is that DIana showed up right at this moment. Not only is her task to separate Mulder from Scully but to distract him from the work and destroy the X-Files without his interference. All the little things add up to Diana’s duplicity. Mulder has made up his mind about cases on far less evidence. But he is blind when it comes to Diana, and that is WHY she was brought back by CSM, why she is interfering now.

The LGM are disappointed in Mulder. While they don’t have Scully’s instincts about people, they trust her. They can connect the dots with the evidence already uncovered. Something IS strange, and it’s Mulder who seems determined to NOT believe this time, no matter what he’s shown. That Scully and Mulder have a very personal and uncharacteristic fight in front of them would make them uncomfortable and protective of Scully over what they see as a pretty cruel dismissal of her claims by Mulder. (I want to see some LGM post-OS fanfic pls.)

“Because there's nothing to be done. And at some point, you just have to accept that the only way those you love are going to survive is if you give up.” - Mulder

Why would Mulder choose to save himself over the world, over resistance and fighting to save it? Seems like he’s given up, that he is willing to go to the hangar with Diana and Scully. Also, why isn’t he more upset about Diana knowing CSM? He’s still blinded, desperately believing CSM that he was looking for his son. It is so frustrating how he is able to turn a blind eye to all the evidence pointing to her guilt - but perhaps it is just that irrationality about it that makes it all the more believable. Diana is his Achilles Heel, and that is the reason she’s here.

Diana kisses him, but he doesn’t kiss her back. Perhaps he was wondering if he still had feelings for her, or if it was just the memories? Or maybe he thinks he can’t have Scully, so perhaps he is meant to be with Diana? Either way, he knows he doesn’t love her anymore, he can’t pretend, he’s meant to suffer unrequited love, live a lonely existence (see “The Field Where I Died”).

His surrender to the belief that he doesn’t have any choices left seems so out of character here, such a dramatic change from his usual self. I talk more about this issue at the end of this post.

Scully gets Mulder to do the right thing, not just the easy, self-serving one. In this case, it is only because he can’t leave her, he can't save himself if Scully's not there with him. She is his conscience, the agent for good. Mulder is the call to action, but without Scully his decisions have no good purpose or direction.

Badass agents shooting at the train. ❤️ Grabbing her arm to pull her from the tracks.

I assume they discuss things on the way to the train yard and while waiting for Skinner. I don’t think they resolve much, though, since they still seem distant with one another at the end of the episode. They end up going to the hangar and seeing the destruction, despite Scully’s skepticism about the whole story, about not having a choice in the fate of the world. She doesn’t go because she gives up, like Mulder, but because she believes that is where they are taking Cassandra. I think it disturbs Scully to see Mulder surrendering to fate so easily, giving up.

ALSO - think about what Mulder told her how he came about hearing this information. He RAN INTO CSM AT DIANA’S. BUT HE STILL THINKS SHE’S INNOCENT. Scully must be incredibly frustrated at this point. I think her body language in the meeting with Kersh shows that she’s not happy with Mulder.

Scully’s “Sir, I wouldn't bet against him.”

Despite her anger, she’ll always have his back.

Is it assumed Diana and CSM are dead as well (for the moment at least)? Otherwise I’d assume Diana would be at the meeting. Mythology episodes make my head hurt.

***

Here’s a bit of a deep dive. I can understand Mulder’s actions re: Diana fairly well, but I struggled to understand why he so easily gives up after hearing CSM’s story.

CSM’s plan started back at the end of season 5. Mulder and Scully are stronger than ever, and they are closer than ever to the truth. Diana is brought back by CSM to create tension with the end goal of separating Mulder and Scully and causing Mulder to give up. He KNOWS Mulder needs Scully. The plan is fairly successful, and the distance between Mulder and Scully reaches its peak in this episode. All of the evidence stacking up against Diana isn’t enough to cause Mulder to be suspicious of her, which confuses and hurts Scully. Diana counts on the deception and manipulations she's built up with Mulder (now and in their past) to discount anything Scully says against her, to cause Mulder to react negatively to protect his view of her.

The distance and tension in Mulder and Scully’s relationship, as well as separating Mulder from his work, prepares him for the final blow - a story that leaves Mulder feeling hopeless. When Cassandra and CSM tell him their stories about the fate of the world, he is ready to believe in them, to give up and think he has no choice except to follow their direction. He has no rudder, with Scully being out of the picture, no one to tell him that this decision is the WRONG one.

It is Mulder’s distance from Scully (physically and emotionally) that causes him to make all these bad decisions. Scully has always pushed him to do what is right, even if it's difficult. You see this repeated later when CSM messes with Mulder’s brain. She also gives him hope, a belief that TOGETHER they can do anything. When things aren’t great between them, Mulder feels helpless.

After this episode, he's saved, somewhat, by the return of his work and the re-strengthening of his relationship with Scully, but he also seems more apathetic. They go to Florida only because Arthur Dales needs help (“Agua Mala”), Mulder is forced into an X-File in “Monday”, and SCULLY is the one that initiates their first official case (“Arcadia”). His fears about the fate of the world continue, thread their way deep into his mind. His apprehension about what terrible thing is coming because he doesn't deserve to be happy (he has the X-Files back, but does it matter?). 

This lays the groundwork for depression, which I believe Mulder goes through in season 7 after his brain gets tinkered with. I’ll get into more of that later. (Though I do make the implication in my fic “Momentum” if you haven’t read it. I think many people thought that the Mulder I wrote was being an asshole for no good reason, which wasn’t my intention, but perhaps this will give you a different perspective!)

#xfiles #x-files #x-files rewatch #x files rewatch #msrheadcanon #msr #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #mulders depression #trying to explain out-of-character behaviour #deep dive #speculation #xfiles analysis

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [1001]

“Magic fucking beans,” Bull snaps under his breath. The words are immediately taken and thrown into the sky by the sharp, cold wind that feels like it’s hurling needles into his skin. Bull’s hands ache as he searches for another hand hold on the giant, improbable, bean stalk that’s grown out of Aclassi’s exceptionally bad decisions. “I you off to get food and you come back with magic beans. Do you want us, as a collective whole, to fail that badly? Did you snap? Was it because I didn’t let you buy seven casks of shit year wine two months ago? You’ve killed us all because of that?”

Somewhere below him Bull hopes Dalish and Rocky are taking the piss out of Aclassi. He’s sure that Skinner’s plotting some sort of extremely long, torturous psychological cat and mouse game that’s going to have the man in ruins. Unless she gets bored and stops midway. Bull hopes she doesn’t get bored.

It’s been a while since Aclassi’s pulled some kind of stunt like this. It’s as if the universe was trying to save up all of the stupid shit it could pull, saving up that energy, and threw it into this one transaction.

They’re close to hitting the cloud cover, and from there it’s anyones guess as to what awaits them. Personally, Bull hopes it’s somewhere they can exchange money for food. Like he’d told Aclassi to do the first time he sent the man off.

At this point Bull should have someone else as his second in command, but aside from the occasionally disastrous impulse buy decision like this one, the man’s got a good head on his shoulders, enthusiasm for the work, and a profound ability to bullshit or bludgeon his way out of any situation. Those are good qualities to have. And Bull’s put this much effort into teaching him what Bull knows. He’d have to start all over again if he switched second in commands now.

Bull shivers, grimacing as he enters the clouds. The clouds are freezing, not even considering the wind that howls through his ears.

But once he breaks through the clouds, the finds the end of the stalk.

And improbably — fitting the theme for the entire day — there’s a house. It’s a big house. Too big.

Bull narrows his eye as he carefully tests his weight on the clouds. It holds. Which is…

Bull would love to use the word impossible to describe any of these events. But the word itself is defeated by the fact that the events have occurred, or are currently occurring in front of him. So improbable it is.

He cautiously lets go of the stalk and crouches on the clouds. He calls down to the rest of the Chargers, “Weird magic shit is happening up here, you can stand on the clouds once you get to the end of the stalk.”

Skinner is the first through. Her face and hands are red with cold. Like Bull she casts a skeptical look around, picking up the wrong sized house immediately. She tests her weight on the cloud next to Bull and then slowly, carefully, transfers herself from the stalk to the cloud and starts to carefully probe the cloud around her to see if the entire thing is stable.

She’s followed up by Stitches who takes a look around and just rolls his eyes and curses before joining Skinner in testing the clouds. After Stitches is a very out of breath Rocky, who Bull has to reach out and pull off of the stalk.

Bringing up the rear is Dalish, barely out of breath and still cursing Aclassi out as the man shoves her onto the cloud. And finally Grim who looks like he’s spent the entire climb mentally elsewhere in order to avoid having to engage in Dalish’s verbal slugfest.

“That house is wrong,” Rocky says. “It’s too big. It’s massive. That’s at least the size of a fortress.”

“Giant beanstalk,” Skinner points, “Giant house.”

“Giant food?” Stitches suggests.

“Giant food as in…what giants eat, or as in it’s very big?” Dalish frowns. “Because if it’s the former I’ll pass. I’m hungry. I’m not that hungry. We have some money still, I’d rather climb back down and buy stale discounted bread.”

“We didn’t climb up the giant beanstalk just to climb down it right away.” Skinner scowls. “Aclassi, if there isn’t some kind of amazing treasure inside that building I’m going to throw you off of this cloud.”

“I’d apologize again if you’d take it,” Krem says.

Grim quickly yanks on Bull’s arm and points.

Bull follows the direction Grim’s pointing in.

“Is that a person? How did someone beat us up here? No one passed us.” Dalish’s hands coat themselves in magic.

“They look normal sized,” Skinner’s hand moves for one of her daggers. “Maybe Aclassi wasn’t the only one who got conned with some magic beans.”

“I wasn’t conned, they really are magic beans,” Aclassi points out.

Bull straightens his back, carefully moving so that Rocky and Dalish are slightly obscured by his larger frame. Better to give them the element of surprise.

It’s a man. An elf. Gaunt.

Bull narrows his eye as the man spots them, freezing in place, eyes wide. And then he starts running towards them.

“Not a mage,” Dalish says behind him.

Bull holds his hand out for the Chargers to wait. The man isn’t armed.

“Who are you and how did you get here?” The man asks as soon as he’s in earshot. “And did you see anyone else?”

“Questions I should be asking you, stranger,” Bull replies. “I’m the Iron Bull, these are the Chargers. Magic bean stalk. Just you. How did you get here?”

“Abducted,” the man answers, “I don’t know how long we’ve been here. The giant that owns the house is gone for the day and we — “ He turns back towards the house. “The Chargers? Mercenaries? For hire currently?”

“Yes. Depends. Who’s we?” Krem asks.

“My sister and I. Only one of us could escape and my sister isn’t in any condition to make the journey down for help.” The man looks between them and the house, and then quickly lifts something that was tied to his back, unwrapping the covering to reveal a golden harp. “I’m Mahanon, of Clan Lavellan. This harp was gifted to me by the Queen of Antiva. I was a court minstrel for her for a long time.”

“The Golden Voice!” Dalish exclaims, eyes wide as she looks around Bull to stare at the man. “No one’s heard from you in years! Everyone thought you’d just gone beyond the sea to find new lands to sing in.”

Mahanon snorts. “In a manner of speaking I have. The giant who owns the house abducted me. I’ve been kept to play as he pleases.”

“And your sister?”

Mahanon shakes his head. “A master craftswoman. His golden goose. He makes her create things for him and then he takes them to sell to — I don’t know. You know of me. I don’t have anything with me other than this harp. I will give you this harp if you get my sister free. I have more money — and if not I can get more if you give me a chance. I am good on my word. There are those who would vouch for me. I do not break my oaths.”

“Deal,” Aclassi says before Bull can say anything. Bull glares at Aclassi as the man reaches forward to shake Mahanon’s hand. “Keep the harp or now. Do you think you can climb down on your own? No offense to you, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to be going back there.”

Mahanon nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some seeds. “The plan was for me to plant these in the clouds. They’re morning glory vines. I would have rappelled down if you and your beanstalk weren’t here. He keeps my sister on a table in the center of the main room. Can’t miss it. Tell her I sent you.”

Mahanon hesitates before pulling something else out of his pocket. A golden harp string.

He hands it to Aclassi. “That should be enough to convince her. Good luck.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

[descendantofthesparrow]

Daughter of the honorable thief – Harry Hook x reader - Part 5  -best friends and useless lesbians.

Harry Hook x Daughter of Robin Hood!Reader

Warning: talk of abuse in this, so if you're uncomfortable with it, please don’t read, or skip to when it's not being addressed anymore.

 key

 h/c- hair color

 e/c- eye color

 h/l- hair length

 s/c- skin color

 y/n- your name

 clothing reference:

 ---(y/n) POV---

Arriving at chemistry class, you saw an empty next to Uma, ‘well,’ you thought, seeing the only other empty seat was next to chad ‘might as well bond with Uma a little’ crossing the class and plopping down next to Uma, smiling at the teal-haired girl.

Uma tilted her head up for a moment before looking back down at her book.

“so” Uma mumbled, you glanced at her, keeping a listening for the teacher, “what else did you do? Other than the faces.”

You hummed and tapped your fingers on the table, smirking as you remember filling the border around mals bed with plastic balls.

“I turned her bed area into a ball pit, put Nicolas cadges face on all her photos, and, as you know, covered her locker in his face, and then I found her coveted oreo stash and replaced a lot of the creams with some pureed baby wipe jelly beans~’

Uma covered her face and tears streamed down her face, stifling her laughter.

“oh my hades, that’s amazing” she quietly muttered through her silent laughter.

You snickered bumping your shoulder with Umas, “yeah, actually I didn’t do it alone” Uma looked at you confused “Erza helped me out”

Uma made an “o” shape with her mouth and nodded.

Feeling your phone vibrate, you smiled apologetically at Uma and carefully took out your phone, keeping it out of sight of the teacher.

From - Titania ;p at 10:15 am

‘is it just me, or is Uma really goddamn hot ;p’

You rolled your eyes and turns to look behind her, looking at Erza. Who sticks her tongue out at you and winks.

You mouthed ‘focus’ Erza pouts and looks down at her phone, typing away.

‘I cant X’’’’C, she's so pretty!!! I can't take my eyes off her!!’

‘Erza you useless lesbian, im not doing another all-nighter because you couldn’t stop thirsting for five minutes.’

‘okay okay im sorry’

Rolling your eyes you put your phone back in your pocket, you looked back at the blackboard, writing down the lesson in your notebook.

*Buzz*

You sighed, taking out your phone once more.

From – Titania ;p at 10:16

‘think I have a chance with her?’

‘don’t know, depends on if she's into girls or not’

‘find out for me?’

‘no can do, im not at that level of friendship yet, still at level 3. I think I need to be at least level 15 to know her sexuality’

‘right right….but if she does like girls?’

‘then she’d be head over heels for you, can I get back to learning so I don’t have to repeat this class?’

‘fine fine, ly’

‘lyt’

Uma raised her brow as you sighed and once more put your phone away, “who was that?” she mumbled, you nodded towards Erza and Uma slowly nodded, for only being around Erza for only a couple seconds, she already understood most of her mannerisms.

For the rest of the class, you and Uma sat in silence, only talking when the other needed help understanding something or when the teacher called on either of you.

Packing your things away you said goodbye to Uma and locked arms with Erza and made your way back to your lockers, storing away your chemistry books and taking out your English books.

Looking to your right, you saw Erza pursing her lips, tapping her cheek with her right hand, a sign of when she was thinking hard.

“don’t hurt your self erzy” you teased as you fished out two chocolate chip granola bars, handing one to Erza, the amber-eyed girl scoffed and took the bar, looking at you with a stern eye.

“ok real talk, do ya think I would ‘ave a chance wit’ Uma?”

You sighed, here we go, every time Erza had a crush she would pester you with, ‘am I good enough?’

“Erza” she rose her brow, you rarely took that tone with her “as I said before, it depends on what Umas sexuality is, and what she's into, don’t beat your self up just because of that one bitch in 8th grade”

WARNING: TALK OF ABUSE STARTS HERE

Erza snarled at that, ah yes…Lila, the girl who had ruined her self-esteem. Backhanded compliment after backhanded compliment, she had cruelly picked Erza apart and left her in pieces for you to pick up.

‘oh your hair looks good short, but I think it made your face look skinner when it was longer’

‘those jeans look good! But don’t you think you should lay off the cake erza? It looks a bit snug around the waist’

Erza had begun to starve herself after Lilas pushing and slowly started to whittle away, letting her hair grow out just because of Lila even though Erza preferred her shorter hair because it was more efficient.

Losing her hard worked muscles because she wasn’t eating enough to keep them, she had been destroying herself.

And you had refused to lose your best friend, so you had talked to her parents and started to protect Erza from Lila even more, instead of contradicting Lila's words, you began to get physical, pushing Lila away from Erza, stepping in between them.

Anything for your best and oldest friend.

Soon, Erza had begun to notice the harshness in Lila’s comments, and started to fight back, started to eat more, cut her thinning hair short.

Lila didn’t like that and moved on from being emotional and mentally abusive to physically abusive.

She had tried to force Erza to do what she wanted, including sex, Erza had refused, resulting in a broken wrist and black eye, and bruises on her torso, arms, and legs.

Erza had enough and fought back, Lila had forgotten Erza was a trained fighter and had been fighting since she could crawl.

Lila tried to put up a fight but Erza quickly ended it, even with her body being weaker than she was used to.

Lila was sent to juvie for endangering Erzas life and attempted rape, and then she was sent to military school.

That had surely knocked the god complex out of her.

Erza had taken a year and a half to get back to where she was physically, and ongoing sessions to get the bullshit Lila put in her mind out of her head, your frequent talks and her sessions with a therapist helping her get back to a stable mind.

END OF ABUSE TALK

“Yeah,” Erza scoffed, brushing her hand through her hair, rolling her eyes. “Im done with that bullcrap, I just wanna be with someone who can love me for me, and not try to change me….in a negative way.”

You smiled and nodded, “exactly, now, you’re a gorgeous, strong, independent woman, anyone would be lucky to have you, including Uma, but only if she's into girls, you can't force your sexuality onto her, it's not fair or right.”

Erza nodded, feeling better. You were always good at giving speeches.

“Okay, now serious talk over, now for a less serious talk with stupid ideas for convincing Uma to go on at least one date with me~”

You let out an air of breath that sounded like *pfft* and turned to start walking to English, “oh my god you are such a lesbian!!”

“you know you love me!!”

“yes,” you cackled, linking your arms with Erza,” yes I do, unfortunately”

“oh you bitch”

“yep”

-----

You had met Gil in English class, seeing no one around him, you sat next to him, Erza sitting at his other side.

“Hey Gil, how’s it going?” the blond-haired boy smiled and shrugged. “pretty good, no ones attacked me today, and I think I aced my biology exam, oh! And the lunch lady gave me an entire box of sugar cookies! so all in all its been going good!”

Erza stared at gil for a few moments, before she latched herself onto him with a determined face.

“wha-“ Gil sputtered before Erza interrupted him.

“Hood, I've only known this sunshine child for two minutes, but if anything happens to him, I will kill everyone in this school, and then myself”

“no” you spoke in a stern voice, but a smile was cracking at your lips anyway, dear god, why did she always have to be so dramatic?

Eh whatever, another reason to love her craziness.

“Um thanks, but could you let me go?”

Erza grumbled but after a look from you, she relented and slumped back in her seat.

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair, focusing on the teachers droning about Shakespeare.

  ---end of part 5---

Comment or message me for part 6

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #descendants harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #dotht #daughter of robin hood #bonding with the boys best friends #and erza is useless lesbian

[admiralty-xfd]

Culmination

Doggett arrives and is skeptical. Scully copes with Mulder’s disappearance.

This is Chapter 10. To go back to the beginning click here.

SEPARATION

(Within)

DOGGETT

John Doggett isn’t sure what to make of her.

He’s heard things over the years, but mainly about the both of them. Agent Scully and Spooky Mulder. Wasting the Bureau’s time and money chasing monsters or aliens or some damn thing.

When he joined the Bureau in ‘95, he’d heard of the X Files unit. But it always seemed like a joke, some strange indulgence that made no sense. He honestly suspected nepotism of some kind, how else would such a unit be justified? Aliens? Please.

What he’s heard about Fox Mulder he can’t consider a glowing review. Besides the fact that he believes in flying saucers, the guy has broken every rule in the book and had still, at least until recently, been allowed to not only keep his job but his unit. Someone high up had been looking out for him.

Agent Dana Scully, on the other hand, seems like a complete mystery. The two of them don’t seem to add up at all. He’s seen them together from time to time, only from afar, over the years, and he can’t help but wonder. He thinks of all the ways he’s heard his fellow agents describe her: Tough and dedicated. Ice Queen.

Mrs. Spooky.

That nickname troubles him. Was it just a jab at her fierce dedication to Agent Mulder in the face of subordination and ridicule? Or was it something more? Maybe the rumors he’s heard are true; maybe he’s more than just her partner.

That’s an added wrinkle in this case that could cause trouble.

She’s fierce, that’s for sure. He can tell already. He can’t believe such a tiny thing can hold all that energy with the weight of the world on her shoulders now, her partner missing. He knows it must be rough. Back when he was NYPD he had a partner, and he remembers what it felt like whenever his partner was in danger. Hard to imagine how she must be feeling right now.

From the few conversations he’s had with Agent Scully, he’s finding her tough to figure out. She’s a scientist, but she seems determined to convince herself otherwise. Why else would she think her partner was abducted by aliens? How else can she believe any of this crap?

He’s not accustomed to this kind of stuff. As far as he knows, this is a manhunt for a fellow FBI agent gone missing. Alien abductions be damned… he knows there are only two ways he will possibly find Agent Mulder: alive on Earth somewhere, or dead.

He sincerely hopes it’s not the latter.

Maybe the method he employs with Agent Scully is unethical. Dropping hints about other women to get a reaction out of her seemed particularly low, especially considering what she’s currently going through. He deserved that cup of water she threw in his face, he was hitting below the belt.

But he needs to do whatever he can to figure out as much as possible about this Agent Mulder, and that includes his personal liaisons. Agent Scully definitely knows more than she’s letting on, and she’s certainly not going to offer information about her personal life willingly. If using cheap tricks is going to help get him that information, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use every last one at his disposal.

He’s only had a few conversations with her but she’s been very defensive with him. Her guard is up. He tries to give her a bit of latitude; he was a bit of an asshole to her in the bullpen, and she’s under a lot of stress at the moment for obvious reasons.

But he is only trying to find her partner. He hopes soon enough she will come to believe that, and trust him. He’s not sure how long that will take but he wants to help her.

It’s not until he finds her at Agent Mulder’s apartment asleep in his bed that he suspects the rumors might be true.

I came by to feed Mulder’s fish, she’d said. He’s not an idiot. He would have to be to not suspect what she’s so poorly trying to hide.

She may hide the truth from him, but at least he can tell when she’s doing it. Maybe that will be helpful in the future.

Until then, he does what he’s here to do: he searches.

The giant tombstone bearing the name Fox Mulder sits in the office like a monolith. It screams at them a truth that Agent Scully is having trouble believing. He knew she believed he was still alive out there, somewhere, but her ideas are way too out there for him to buy. He’s only trying to help.

“What do you make of all this, honestly?” he asks, sitting down in the chair across from her.

“Do you really even care to listen to what I think? You seem to have it all figured out,” she snaps. She looks so exhausted, defeated. He’d feel worse for her if she wasn’t so goddamn snarky with him all the time.

“Look, Agent Scully, I’m just trying to find Mulder, same as you. Now are you gonna help me out here or not?”

She picks up the medical records again, peruses them.

“These look legitimate,” she says. “He was sick. He never told me. I’m not sure why he didn’t. But as to your ‘theory’ about him faking his disappearance? No.”

“No?”

“No.” She is short, resolute. “He would never do that, not to me. He wouldn’t.”

Doggett narrows his eyes, looks her square in the face. His time as an NYPD officer helped him hone his ability to read people pretty well, but he’s finding Agent Scully to be pretty damn enigmatic. What is she hiding? Why is she so secretive?

“Are you afraid if you tell me certain things, I’ll judge you, Agent Scully? Or think of you differently?”

She levels her gaze at him, staring daggers. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re implying, Agent Doggett.”

“I’m only trying to be helpful.”

“I’ve told you everything that’s relevant to the case. I have nothing else to tell you that would be helpful in tracking down Mulder. ”

He sighs, leans back in his chair. “Okay, then. Let’s go back. What about this tombstone?”

She gets up, walks over to the tombstone and crouches down. She traces a fingertip over the freshly carved letters spelling out her partner’s name, then stops.

“His mother’s name is spelled wrong.”

“What?” He walks over.

“There,” she points. “It’s spelled T-E-N-A, should be T-E-E-N-A.”

She looks up at Doggett, and he can see relief on her face. “Nice try, though.” She starts to leave.

He gets up out of his chair to follow her. She’s not going to pin some shady cover-up bullshit on him. “What, you think I’m responsible for this? I’m just the messenger, here!”

“Someone had this made. Someone is trying very, very hard to cover up the real reason for Mulder’s disappearance and they are using the FBI to do it.”

“Not me, Agent Scully. I only just learned about this. I’m trying to find him, same as you. You’ve got to trust me.”

She shakes her head incredulously. “I don’t believe this. Did they really think I’d see this stupid tombstone and just buy it without asking questions?”

“You really think someone in the Bureau would go to all this trouble just to eliminate Agent Mulder? There have to be other ways to accomplish that.”

“They’ve done it before, Agent Doggett.”

“But the medical records-”

“I’ll believe he was sick. I’ll go as far as to believe he may have actually even been dying. But that tombstone?” She is pointing at it. “That is not Mulder. That is a sign of someone giving up. Mulder would never give up, not like this. And not without telling me.”

Doggett regards her for a moment. No matter his views on the man, this Agent Mulder is lucky as hell to have someone so dedicated to him.

“I want to believe what you’re saying is true, I really do. But this other explanation seems so much more… plausible, doesn’t it?”

She looks up at him, her face inscrutable.

“Doesn’t it?” he asks again.

She scoffs and looks away. “Oh, I’ll bet Mulder’s ears are burning as we speak.”

He’s not sure what she means by that, but she doesn’t seem in a mood to ask. She leaves the bullpen without another word. He wonders if she’s going back to his apartment again.

He hopes they find Agent Mulder, for her sake. He doesn’t know Agent Scully very well at all, but he can still understand loss.

He understands that very well.

SCULLY

At first his absence doesn’t feel real, like he isn’t truly gone but just stuck in traffic or grabbing coffee or something. She’s got so much on her mind right now, so much on her heart, that she feels as if she should be able to distract herself.

And a baby on the way, apparently, although she has no idea how. A tiny piece of him left behind that won’t let her forget even for a moment he isn’t just a phone call away.

But then she enters their office and it’s full of agents digging through files. Their files. Their work. For the umpteenth time in her adult life she feels violated, like they are removing pieces of him, pieces of herself.

This whole thing is a colossal joke too, because nothing on this planet is going to help the FBI track him down. The only person capable of finding Mulder is Mulder, currently zipping around on a spaceship above them, ostensibly.

She probably wouldn’t believe it herself, but she believes Skinner. And he isn’t backing down.

This Agent Doggett has no idea what he’s gotten himself into. She’d feel sorry for him if she wasn’t so goddamn pissed off at him. Poking into her private business, driving her crazy with his incessant refrain of “how well did you really know Mulder?”

How well did you really know your partner?

How well did you really know your partner?

She grits her teeth and silently screams at him shut up, shut up, you have no idea. No idea.

She can’t let Agent Doggett know the nature of their relationship. She can’t tell him she’s pregnant with Mulder’s baby. He can’t know any of this. The FBI could use their relationship against her, and jeopardize their search. And she cannot let that happen.

I know Mulder as well as anyone, she’d said to him.

I know Mulder better than anyone, is the truth.

Someone at the FBI must have planted those car rental receipts at Mulder’s apartment when they scoured it. She and Mulder had gone to Raleigh once together in May to visit his mother’s gravesite, which must have been how the receipts were faked. She knows they're bullshit. But she can’t tell Agent Doggett this. That would mean telling him she knows he wasn’t in Raleigh because he was wrapped around her at her apartment those weekends.

When she saw the tombstone, her reaction had been visceral. She didn’t understand what this stupid tombstone was even doing at the FBI office in the first place. Who sent it? How did it get here? None of it made any sense. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. The reveal, the melodrama, all of it seemed so stage-managed to get a reaction out of her, and it had worked, at least it had seemed to.

It had never been more clear to her the Bureau was attempting to whitewash what had happened to Mulder. What had been a tragedy for her had become a golden opportunity for the FBI.

It was easy to figure out that there was a cover-up taking place here. But reading those medical records is like a slap to the face. She wants to believe they're fake, too, but something in her gut is telling her this part has to be true.

How could Mulder not have told her how sick he was? She shouldn’t be surprised; he’s hidden things from her in the past, because he thought he’d be protecting her. The vial of her own stolen ova leaps to her mind, that he’d somehow found in a warehouse and kept hidden from her to spare her feelings. They weren’t viable and he didn’t want to give her more bad news, he’d said. It made her angry then and it makes her angry now.

His stubbornness can be endearing at times, and he’s proven it to be so on multiple occasions. But there are times when it can be maddening, when he holds back, when he won’t tell her something. She knows he only wants to protect her. She wishes he’d respect her desire to not be so protected.

Everything is falling into place now. Suddenly things seem clear. Mulder telling her to quit the X Files, telling her to do more with her life. That last night they were together, how it felt restless and desperate.

How he hasn’t told her he loves her, even though she knows he must. She can feel it whenever they are together.

He thought he was dying. And now, maybe he is.

She’s in his apartment again. She’s not sure why she keeps coming here. Some morbid desire to be near him, any part of him, because she fears the worst, is the most likely possibility. She walks around, studying his belongings in a way she never had the freedom to before. Maybe it’s a violation of his privacy but right now, she doesn’t care.

They were here only a few days ago, together. How can this be happening? Why can’t they ever catch a break?

She goes to his kitchen and starts emptying out the fridge. It feels like a small part of her is giving up, but she convinces herself it’s the rational thing to do. There’s a jug of orange juice two weeks past its expiration date, a couple tubs of hummus, a wedge of moldy cheddar cheese and a single apple. She smiles a bit, wanting to laugh at the Single-Guyness of it all, but remembering he’d been spending so much time at her place lately; he probably hadn’t been shopping much. She dumps the food into a trash bag and ties it up.

Not knowing why, she removes her shoes and jacket and begins to clean up. She tells herself it’s the only thing she can do for him, so hopeless is every other avenue.

She wipes down all his countertops. She sweeps the entire floor. She scrubs the kitchen sink and then his bathroom, which she’s surprised to find as clean as it is, considering he’s always been a bit of a slob. Again, a small change she suspects is due to her presence in his life.

Her hands instinctively go to her abdomen. A baby, their baby, against all odds.

How did this happen? How?

She doesn’t want to question it. It’s a gift, plain and simple, and she’s so happy to have it. But she’s not dense, either… the conditions under which this baby was conceived make its very existence suspect.

The sun has gone down without her realizing it, while she’d been cleaning. The possibility of Agent Doggett dropping by to feed the fish again notwithstanding, she doesn’t want to go home. There's nothing for her there. There's nothing for her here, either, but at least here she can feel his presence. So she goes into Mulder’s bedroom and closes the door.

She takes off her clothes, finds one of his T-shirts in the dresser and slips into it. She immediately starts crying; she can’t help it. The smell of him, the feel of his shirt on her skin. It’s all too much, everything feels so hopeless.

She turns the lights off and climbs into his bed. His bed, but whenever she was here it had been their bed, for a few short precious weeks. She lays her head on his pillow and breathes in his scent deeply. She can’t believe how empty she feels without him.

As she lays here, she revisits a memory in her mind, and at some point the memory fades seamlessly into sleep.

It’s months ago, before his abduction, before their relationship changed, before his mysterious illness must have began.  Mulder is laying on her couch when she unlocks her door to go inside. He knows right away from her face.

“It didn’t take,” he says. It’s not a question.  He goes to her and hugs her tightly.

“It was my last chance,” she sobs. She knows the in-vitro was too much to hope for.  He kisses her forehead, the soft light of the sun setting peeking through the window.

“Never give up on a miracle,” he says.  They hold each other for a long time, and then he releases her. Maybe he’s going for his jacket to go, maybe he wants to leave her alone, but she doesn’t want to be alone. She grabs his arm.

“Mulder, don’t go.”

He stops. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Please stay with me tonight.”  She honestly doesn’t mean it to sound the way it comes out. She’s immediately embarrassed.  “I mean- I just don’t want to be alone right now. Please.”

He never denies her anything.  “Of course Scully, whatever you need.”

"Thank you.”  She goes to her bedroom and he follows her. He sits on the easy chair by her bed quietly while she goes into her bathroom. He waits while she washes her face and brushes her teeth. He waits while she puts her pajamas on.

He will always wait, as long as she needs him to.

She comes out of the bathroom and starts to get into her bed and he stands up.

“I’ll be out on the couch if you need me,” he announces, jerking a thumb in the couch’s general direction.

She thinks back to when he was recovering from his brain surgery and the comfort he’d received from her simply laying by his side. It comforted her, too. She needs that comfort tonight.

“No, Mulder… can you please stay in here? With me?”  She doesn’t mean sex. She thinks he knows she doesn’t mean sex. That’s not what this is about, not tonight. She prays he doesn’t misunderstand.

“...Scully?” he’s confused, doesn’t want to get it wrong.

“I just want you to hold me. Can you do that?”

He looks at her tenderly.  "Yeah, I can do that,” he answers.

He takes his jeans off and climbs into her bed with her for the very first time. His arms go around her waist and he pulls her close, her back to his chest. She cries softly and he tries his hardest not to, stroking her hair gently.

They share her bed that night, fully clothed, thoughts of all kinds scattered between them, thoughts of secret love, confusion, but mostly unwieldy sadness bouncing around the room from end to end until the thoughts finally still and they fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Thanks for reading! See you tomorrow with the next chapter.

#txf #the x files #msr #msr fanfic #mulder and scully #fanfiction #john doggett #mulder is gone #scully is sad #everything is terrible

[gosecretcollectiontraveler]

Emily: Part 2

Maggie POV: I woke up before anyone else was awake, Alex was completely tired due to last night and Emily so she fell asleep right after me. I made myself a black coffee and a whole wheat bagel and read the newspaper, I changed my clothes to a black t-shirt and a leather jacket and leggings with some boots. I called off of work and stayed to watch Emily, Alex unfortunately couldn't so she still has to work. I made her some coffee and some cinnamon rolls with a apple. I walked over to Emily's room and I saw her snoring softly, she was still asleep and I didn't want to wake her. I saw Alex getting up and giving me a good morning kiss. I smiled lightly. She got a shower and gotten dressed in her sexy suit so she could be on time for work. I handed her breakfast and gave her a kiss before saying goodbye. I cooked an omelet for Emily considering she would wake up in a couple minutes, I heard shuffling and she walked downstairs yawning. "Morning Aunt Maggie" She said weakly, I put a fake smile on and greeted her back. I put the fresh omelet on a plate and got out two forks. I placed the omelet on the table and sat across from her. "What's this?" She asked me. "An omelet. Ham, turkey, tomato and basil. The perfect breakfast, eat." I said pointing to the fork with my fork. "I'm not hungry." She said. "Well you are now, eat." I said. "No, I said I'm not hungry!" I sighed, rubbing my temples, this was what I was trying to avoid. "Eat, please. I don't need you going on an empty stomach." I said. "Not happening" She said determined, I sighed. Why does she have to be so stubborn? Ok Emily, two can play that game. "Eat or I'll make you eat." I said walking toward her. I put a piece of the omelet in my fork and got it to her mouth, she shook her head. She got the fork and ate it. I smiled. "There, happy?" She said sighing. I nodded. "Yes, now can you tell me what happened last night?" She looked shocked. " What about it." She asked. "Why are you cutting yourself and starving, let's start with that" I asked curious. "I want to be skinner." She said. "But how far are you trying to go? There are better ways and your super smart and you know this." I said holding my hand to Emily's. "It's my foster father, he came back  and we saw each other at a swim competition. He told me that he would take me away again if I hadn't did what I was asked of." She said choking back a sob, I felt instantly bad and pulled her into a hug. We both fell down and I had to hold something. "Sweetie, what did he ask?" I said softly, stroking her hair to calm her down. "He asked me to never forget my place, his submissive, his little slut! He told me that he would kill you all if I didn't have sex with him, that's why I was gone, not because of the competition. Then he told me to stop eating because I was a worthless, fat human being, he started beating me and I didn't do anything wrong! He said he would torture you and Felicity if I didn't come back skinny, I was trying not to say anything, it would have gotten you in danger. It's too much, make it stop please!" She said finally breaking down in tears. I hugged her even tighter, trying to soothe her heartbeat with loving words , rocking her back and forward, she cried softly until she went to sleep. I had called Alex. "Hey cutie, what's wrong? Did Emily have another attack?!" She asked. "No but I need you to come home, now. I know why." I said. "I can't Maggie. As much as I would, Hanks sick and I need to train the new recruits, text me what she said and we'll go from there, I have to go, I love you." She said. "I understand, I love you too" before I ended the call,Emily had woken up soon afterward, shooting up and having a minor panic attack. "Hey, shh. Your okay, everything's fine." I whispered in her ear, rocking her back and forward. "I'm sorry" She said softly while looking at her hands, I scoffed. "You..." I kissed her hands softly"Have nothing to apologize for..' I kissed the deep scars. "The god damn bastard did it" I heard a voice say, I turned around and I saw Lena, she looked pissed to the highest level of pisstivity. She hugged me and Emily in a strong embrace. "Emily, why didn't you say something? We could have fixed it."Lena asked. "The guy blackmailed her, it wasn't willingly." I said to her, she nodded. "But we're making sure your eating for now on"We both said, she rolled her eyes. " I'm not going to eat, end of story!" She said annoyed. "Why?" I asked She shrugged " I asked you a direct question, why do this to your body?" I asked, tears streaming down my face, her face had softened. "I-"She started, but I cut her off. "And don't give me that bullshit about the first reason, that wasn't your reason, now tell me why" I asked. "I'm punishing myself." She said, her head down with shame. "Why punish yourself? , you didn't do anything wrong" Lena interjected. "I get everyone hurt, even you." Me and Lena looked at each other. Why is she saying this? She's never hurt anyone. "When did you start?" I asked. "6 months." I looked at Lena, it was the time she was adopted by Kara. "Go upstairs" Lena said. Emily looked at me and I nodded, she walked up the stairs. We heard the door shut until I saw Lena sniffing, her beautiful white coat had tear stains, I pulled her in for a hug while she was crying. "It's my fault!" Lena sobbed, I shook my head. "It never was" I said, I kissed her forehead. "I didn't even notice the signs, she kept this for so long!" She sobbed out. "No one would've known, Lena look at me." I said. "No one knew, if she didn't slip up like she did, she would still keep this in her head. She was being tortured in her head, no one would have known the difference,meaning it was no ones fault, ok?" I asked, she nodded. "I don't even know anymore" She said sobbing, I sighed and pulled her closer to me. "Mom?" Emily called out from the stairs, she walked down and hugged her by her side. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even know that you cared." Emily said, "Emily, you have a freaking village, people who love and care for you and would stand by you for anything, know that. And anyone who doesn't, will get a tiny Latina beat down." We all started laughing. I check my watch and it was nighttime, Lena was fast asleep and I called Kara saying that the both of them were staying the night with me. "Mom?" Emily asked. "Hmm?" She said as she sat up. "Are we going to tell Kara?" She asked. We actually forgot about little Danvers. "For the time being, no" I said calmly. "Ok"Emily and Lena said in unison. Emily had pulled something out, it was a blade. "NO!" Me and Lena said taking the blade. "All you had to do was ask." Emily said. "Why do you have this?" I asked. "It's the thing I cut myself with in the bathroom, just wanted to see if you would keep it, so I wouldn't be tempted." I sighed in relief, good thing it's the only blade in the house. "Ok, thank you"I said. She nodded. Lena went back to sleep. " Aunt Maggie?" She said softly. " Hmm?" "Thank you"She said "No, Thank me when you finish your inner battle, when it's finally over." "Ok, love you" She smiled before sleep over took her. "Love you too, my little warrior."

[writing-muse]

Lesson Eight: Trusting someone is hard.

Summary:

Solas co-owns “Harel Deliss”, a posh restaurant in the heart of town, where the elite class decides to spend their money depending on their whims. The stakes are high. Its rival is a well-known “De Fer’s Bouquet” run by a money-driven French born business woman. Ellana, our protagonist, gets unfairly dismissed from “De Fer” and finds herself, due to some unforeseen circumstances, in the need of money, and thus goes to competition to earn her due. Life is full of surprises, as they say.

Also on my AO3

“Shit, Sera! Be more careful!” I shouted at my roommate who just managed to spill milk over my hand and half the breakfast.

“Oups! I think I’m still sleepy after yesterday.”

“No, shit. You came back well after midnight, so I’m not surprised you’re just less than half awake.” I sneered at her wiping out the spillage.

“You’re not in a good mood today, sister,” Mahanon commented above his mug of coffee.

“Don’t you dare to start!”  I growled at him. This is not going to be a good day. I was already late and frantic about meeting with my boss. Well, both of them. They wanted to talk about the plans on expanding the confectionary and I was to be the one to advise them. And the thought of being in the same room with Mr. Harel for at least half a day was not something I looked forward to. He kept his distance for the last couple of weeks giving me my space but he did not fool anybody around. His side glances and long-time staring at me, while in the kitchen or in passing, just gave the rumours more credit. And the suggestive comments from Dorian and knowing smiles of my so-called friends at work did not help. It was only a matter of time before something breaks. I just hoped it was not going to be me.

“You need to get laid.” Sera commented chewing on her toast decorated with three types of marmalade. How could she eat all this sugar and be so thin, I could not understand. “Maybe that guy of yours can be of use?”

I nearly choked on the remainder of my coffee.

“What? What guy?” My brother halted his chewing on the cheese. His jaw slightly open in surprise.

“Wow! You’re really not paying attention, Nonnie! She had someone a while ago and now they are no longer together and Smartie got back to being grumpy and frustrated!” I wanted to strangle my roommate. For the second time this morning. I’ve decided to count to ten before opening my mouth and saying something I may regret later.

“Who’s it?” The cheese got munched upon and my sibling stared at me across the table.

“Not your bloody business,” I managed to get most of the venom out of my voice. Almost.

He shrugged. “You know I will find out, sooner or later. I can always ask around.”

“Don’t you even dare!” I stood up. “It’s my life and my business who I sleep with. You better focus on that new job of yours so I don’t have to collect your sorry ass from anywhere.” I stormed out of the kitchen and ran into my room. Changing into work clothes never been done so fast. In matter of five minutes I was out of the door. Fuck it. Just fuck it! Was it all for nothing? Shall I just let him know the truth and go with it? But how?

*

“I’m going for another round. Any special requests?” Dorian paused at the door with a tray in his hands. We have been at Mr. Harel’s office for the last two hours discussing and brainstorming over the cakes. We definitely drunk too much coffee and ate too many biscuits for my liking. As he was met with silence Dorian closed the door behind him leaving two of us alone.

I have tried to avoid looking at Mr. Harel for the majority of the time which was a feat in itself. He was moving around, passing documents and photos, and showing cooking books. Dorian was mostly showing things on his laptop. We were all moving around and on many occasions I could feel Mr. Harel looming over me or his fingers touching me briefly. Nothing tangible but I felt as if there was a pattern to his movements, some gravity as he circled around me. Enough to say that his behaviour put me on edge; even more than I was this morning.

He stopped just a foot away looking at the photos splayed on the desk. I heard him humming.

“If you have something to say just say it. But stop dancing around me.” I tried to keep my tone even.

“I have been pondering about your… affinity for strawberries, that’s all.”

I turned to face him. A mistake. The smirk gracing his lips was a mischievous one. I really wanted to smack him.

“My affinity for strawberries?”

“Yes. You seem to be particularly inclined to include them in every recipe you proposed we do.” He tilted his head towards the photos I put to one side.

Looking at them now I realised that yes, this was exactly what I was doing for the last two hours. I knew why and I sighed. Nothing can hide from him. I wonder if he pays special attention to my actions or everybody else’s as well? I really did not want an answer to that question.

“Why can’t we mix them with some blueberries and lemons it’s really beyond me. But-“ He paused and waited until I met his gaze. ”I would think that the customers appreciate the variety and choice, wouldn’t you?”

I sighed and leaned my back against the desk. I could feel his eyes resting on me.

“What is it, Ellana? Tell me.” His voice barely a whisper. His eyes pleading to trust him. “I’m here for you. Always.”

I swallowed the bile of guilt. Averted my eyes trying to remain strong in my resolution and forget his warm gaze. His hand grazed the desk just an inch of my own that was gripping the edge so tightly as if I was about to collapse.

“This is not about recipes, is it?” My eyes shot to his. Soft grey and blue adorned with slightly furrowed brows in concern. For me. Damn. His lips parted but I wasn’t ready to hear another plea so I choked out.

“I-I cannot sleep. I have problems with sleeping lately. Don’t know how to-“ Breaking the eye contact allowed me to put some distance. Also I moved towards the window. Change of scenery might be sufficient to stop wanting these things with him. Or wanting him. No, that will not happen.

“You worry too much. And you work too much.” His voice reached me. He stayed at the desk leaning against it just as I did a moment ago.

“You think?” I chuckled.

“Don’t you think I missed the overtime sheets I process for you and Harding? There’s so many of them for the last two weeks alone.” He chuckled in return. “I may start denying the payments if you continue to over-working yourself.”

I fully turned towards him. “You know it’s for your own benefit, Mr. Harel. You can see the results for yourself.“ I motioned towards the photos.

He nodded. “I agree but I would prefer you rest and enjoy your work rather than force yourself to stay awake.”

“I enjoy working for you, Mr. Harel. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” I assured him trying to loosen up the atmosphere. He shook his head but let it drop. At least for the time being.

We eyed each other in comfortable silence. Maybe for the first time in weeks. A small smile appeared on his face and his eyes got a bit darker. He hummed again. Oh oh.

“I think I took all the meringues Harding left on the counter. She said they are too good for the customers so we are to be her guinea pigs.” Dorian marched through the door balancing two trays in his hands. I rushed to help him settle them on the desk.

“More strawberries?” Mr. Harel chuckled slightly biting into one of the meringues. A bit of casting sugar stick to his upper lip and I had an overwhelming impulse to go to him and lick it with my tongue.

I have never been so grateful for such an ordinary question I heard from the Tevinter man. “Coffee?”

*

“So… are you better?” Sera put an arm around me and squeezed me briefly.

“Yeah, I guess.”  I admitted holding a warm mug of tea in my hands. “Sorry, for being such an ass recently. I have had a lot on my mind.”

“But you’re better, right?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Good. And don’t worry about being an ass. It happens to all of us. To some more than others!” She laughed.

“Oh, stop berating her. She had a shitty week!” Skinner slid into her favourite chair and put her feet on the table.

“Off with the feet” I said exasperated. She obliged though.

“Well, here we go! My favourite recipes from last Friday!” The happy voice of Harding was hidden behind the tower of snacks and confectionaries she was preparing in my kitchen since this morning. It was 5 o’clock on Saturday and we had a day off. Both of us, mysteriously. We also had a little gathering to watch a film, get some drinks and decent food. For the time being the food was to be salty and sweet. Nice combination but I had only one bathroom.

“That boss of yours giving you a hard time?” Mahanon placed the tray with drinks on the table and started passing them around. He missed a small blush on my cheeks.

“He always gives her hard time. Maybe because she’s talented and good at what she does.” Skinner grabbed his attention.

“You also had a problem with him?” He pushed a bit too close.

“Nah. He’s fair as a manager. It’s just… he can be distant and assy about things. But in overall he’s ok.” She put a few of the salty and sweet snacks on her plate. One bathroom only, I thought groaning.

“How’s your own job going?” She asked my brother who sat on the floor next to me and managed to drop a sticky roll on the floor. I groaned again.

“It’s fine. I’m- well doing fine. That’s what Varric said last night.”

“You like him.”

“I respect him. He’s challenging as a boss but he takes no bullshit from anyone. And I do respect that.” He admitted wiping off the stain off my carpet. I closed my eyes and finished the tea. I needed something stronger.

“So, have we decided on the rom-com or the action yet?” Sera leaned closer to Harding who passed her a sweet roll.

“Ok. I brought the bottles. No need to stand up every five minutes and pause the film.” The rattling of bottles carefully balanced on a tray made me smile. Yes, Krem always knew when to make an entrance.

“Just what I was hoping to hear,” I advised him happily eyeing the bottles and glasses.

He laughed. “What can I do for you, Ellana?”

“Whiskey. On the rocks, please.”

“Oooh, somebody starts heavily!” Sera whistled.

“Sush! You can have one if you want.” I stuck a tongue at her. She retailed by doing the same. Childish. But fun.

Eventually, we all managed to sit down and start a film. The vote of the majority settled down on a rom-com. A sappy one. Half way through we stopped to have a short break and people wandered around.

I passed by my handbag and checked my phone for any calls. I had two missed calls from Mr. Harel. Oh, it must be important if he calls me today. I pushed a call back button. No reply. He must be busy. I shrugged and went back to the living room pocketing my phone. Just in case.

Twenty minutes later I felt a buzzing in my pocket. Mr. Harel again. Shall I answer or not? Before I could decide he hung up. A few moments later I had a new text.

 Sat, 13 Aug, 19:32

Mr. Harel: Apologies Miss Lavellan. I know it’s your day off but I need to ask you a favour.

 It was all the text said. I groaned and detangled myself of the limbs and proceeded to the kitchen. Closed the door to mute off the noise from the living room.

“Miss Lavellan, I’m sorry for disturbing your leave.” Were the first of his words.

“It’s okay, I guess. What’s happened?”

“I cannot find the keys to the confectionary room. And I need them desperately. We have a lot of customers today and they went through all the stock we had prepared for tonight.” I could hear a bit of desperation in his voice.

“I’m sure I left them… in the usual place, Mr. Harel.”

“They are not there. I have already checked twice.” He sighed. I heard him breathing quietly into the receiver.

“Wait. Lemme check” I dragged myself to my handbag and rummaged through the middle pocket. I gulped. “Shit. I have them with me.”

“Ah, well... at least they are not lost.” He chuckled but it was strained. “Would it possible to-?“

“I cannot drive today, I’m afraid,” I interrupted him.

“-I meant for me to pick them up in twenty.”

“Ah, sure, boss. You know where I live.” I blabbed without thinking. He went silent for a few heartbeats.

“Yes, I do. I will be there shortly. Wait for me, Miss Lavellan.” He hung up.

Shit. He will be here in twenty. I was in my comfy clothes with messy hair and without makeup. I looked into my reflection in the mirror. Well… hell, if he doesn’t like what he sees then maybe this will chase him away. Good, I thought and pocketed the keys. I still had enough time to grab another drink.

*

He parked outside her flat and turned off the engine. Last time he was here it was for completely different reasons. He hoped that this visit will have a better ending then the last one.

He buzzed and the door opened. Oh, it seems she was really waiting for him. He claimed the stairs in two not having enough patience to wait for the lift to arrive. He walked to her door and knocked. The anticipation of seeing her, of feeling like coming home was overwhelming and he found he enjoyed this feeling. Even if it was a bit scary. The door opened and she peeked outside.

“Hi,” she said her eyes crinkling in the corners. Well… that was unexpected.

“Hi,” he replied swallowing the rush of blood into his cheeks. His eyes greedily looked at her form cladded in a loose t-shirt and training pants. Her feet covered in fluffy socks. He met her smiling eyes and rosy cheeks. Then he took a step closer.

“So, you’re busy tonight?” She remarked leaning on her door.

“Yes,” he admitted breathing in loudly as she bit her lower lip. “There… are many customers tonight. We did not anticipate the rush and now we need to… use the reserves.”

“Will you manage?” She moved closer to him dropping the keys into his outstretched hand. Now, they stood just two feet away. Her pupils were dilated as if she… oh, she is inebriated, he realised. Of course, why else would she be so smiley and- fool, an old fool, he thought to himself. He hoped that his coming here would please her but it was all the alcohol. His heart clenched and he stepped away.

“Thank you, Miss Lavellan. I... think we should manage. Enjoy your evening and I shall see you tomorrow, yes?” He asked for reassurance already knowing that she would be there without doubt.

She chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. “Of course, I will. I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity of you telling me how much you struggled tonight without me.”

Sassy one. But she was right, he missed her tonight. She deserved a break and he agreed to it knowing exactly what it may entail. But he did not regret doing that, he realised, she needed this time to herself and her friends. He could hear the loud noises and cheering coming from the living room. He smiled again seeing her having a good time and relaxing a bit.

“I will not deny, Miss Lavellan that I missed you today. On a professional level as well.” He smirked. And before she had a chance to process the meaning he added, “And I would tell you all about it again once you’ve come back to me, vhenan.” Then he turned back and descended the stairs. His heart beating fast in his chest and yet the sight of her eyes widening and her cheeks colouring red was worth it. Yes, it definitely was.

#Harel Deliss #diagk writing #my writing #moder au #solavellan #solas #ellana lavellan #lavellan #dai #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic

[nomorecaffeineforyou]

Dear Wintersend Letter

Dear Wintersend Creator,

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a good new year thus far. I’m Fille and I’m honored that you’ve been chosen to have me as your exchange partner. No doubt you’ve got a fantastic already existing body of work; I’m really looking forward to whatever you’ll create! I’ve laid out here a few guidelines for my prompts and the kind of things I like to see just in case you wanted a little more of a reference.

My AO3 is linked in my sidebar if you want to get a better idea of what I write and I’m generally very flexible. If you’re really stuck, you can always send me any questions you have at all on anon and I will dramatically cover my eyes and go OH NO WHO IS THAT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS COULD BE ABOUT while I answer it.

Good Shit

Character studies exploring every available aspect. Found families. People overcoming their differences to come together and people recognizing their similarities through their differences as they come together. Letting things get weird and sticky but finding comfort in that and coming toa  resolution. Domesticity, nonsexual and sexual intimacy, supporting but being willing to call the other out on their bullshit or push them towards something greater. Mutual comfort while unpacking and dealing with trauma; also, coming together to weather a traumatic experience. Well done angst that might seem overwrought, but is worth the light at the end of the tunnel. Character driven fluff and smut. Enthusiastic consent play, light bondage, service tops/service bottoms, spanking, shibari, oral sex, praise kink, dirty talk, orgasm denial, switching, femdom, pegging, hair-pulling, rough sex that comes after sparring, hair-pulling. Meaningful but realistic sex where you’re allowed to laugh and no one takes it too seriously. My biggest kink is mutual respect and affection (no, really). I also have a weakness for epistolary and faux anthropological/sociological study styles, even if the formatting can be difficult.

BONUS! I am eternally weak for the Chargers as NPCs, so any appearance of them means I will adore your work until the end of time. There is no easier in to my heart.

Background pairings I would love to see if you want to squeeze them include but are not limited to: Dalish/Skinner, Dagna/Sera, Cassandra/Vivienne, Josephine/Leliana, Iron Bull/Dorian, Female Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Any of the women at Skyhold (and I do mean any), Isabela/Merrill, Aveline/Isabela, Female Hawke/any of the Kirkwall gals (and I do mean any), Female Hawke/Merrill/Isabela, Male Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Iron Bull, Male Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Cullen Rutherford, Male Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Krem, Male Inquisitor Who Is Not Human/Blackwall, Male Hawke/Fenris, Male Hawke/Varric, Leliana/Cassandra, Morrigan/Leliana, Josephine/Vivienne, Sera/Cassandra, Josephine/Sera, Any Male Charger But Bull/Any Male Charger But Bull,   Leliana/Sera, Cassandra/Krem, and Lace Harding/Dagna.

I haven’t actually played Origins yet, but if you wanted to include Leliana/FWarden Who Is Not Human, Morrigan/FWarden Who Is Not Human, or Zevran/Male Warden Who Is Not Human, that would be fine, too.

Non, Merci

Scat, watersports, bloodplay, vomit play, vore, rape roleplay, love triangles, character bashing, OTT angst, ageplay, infidelity, pregnancy, whump, kid fic, women being dominated by men, soulmate fic, AU fic, A/B/O dynamics and tropes, descriptions of gore that go beyond the typical canon. Referencing or hinting at abuse, rape, or assault is fine, but I’d rather not see it played out. I’m also not a huge fan of tons of angst or sadness without a happy ending; I like things bittersweet, not full on sour. Also, no human Wardens or Inquisitors, please. I have nothing against them; I just find the other origins more interesting. I have no preference regarding classes. If you’re drawing me porn and you’re an artist, I really don’t like the style where both people look super shiny; I tend to read it as oily or sweaty and it takes me out of the scene.

First person and second person POV also don’t generally work for me as styles and I would prefer you stick to canon. Pairings I would really not like to see at all are here but not limited to: Iron Bull/Any Of The Chargers (the power dynamics really squick me out), Cole/Anyone, Anders/Anyone, Blackwall/Any Female Characters, Solas/Any Female Characters, Cullen/Any Female Characters, any pairings that don’t acknowledge Sera and Dorian as gay or disrespect Krem’s gender identity, Dalish/Any Male Characters, Skinner/Any Male Characters, Male Hawke/Any Female Characters, Female Hawke/Any Male Characters, Fenris/Anders, Fenris/Isabela, Fenris/Dorian, Krem/Dorian, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Blackwall, and Female Inquisitor/Solas.

I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re doing great. Onto the prompts!

Dagna/Shaper Valta

Talk about rare pairs, am I right? You don’t have to dig much deeper than the Deep Roads for these two. Still, I think there’s something to these two. I found their similarities rather striking; they’re both intelligent, relentless in their pursuit of their work, they see Orzammar for what it is, both of their fathers disagreed with what they chose to do, they don’t have any regrets regarding their decisions, etc. Valta also talked about the Titan in a very similar way to how Dagna talked about the Fade if you let her study the samples from Adamant. I think they’d really hit it off. I would love to see them talking shop or reminiscing about their lives in Orzammar.

Colette/Lace Harding

And the rare pairs get even rarer. Colette is Professor Bram Kenric’s sword wielding city elf assistant you meet in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC who’s attending the University of Orlais. (Here are a couple clips of her; skip to 1:47 for this one.) She’s researching the early Tevinter temple ruins in the Frostback Basin and how they relate to Inquisitor Ameridan. If you chat with her, she’ll tell you about the discrimination she faces as an elf attending an Orlesian university and comments on how elven assistants are common, but get no credit for their research. Professor Kenric is the exception. She’s very driven and determined to succeed in her work and it shows; that’s something she and Lace have in common. Kenric also mentions that Lace has brought artifacts back to camp for them, so I’m sure that she and Colette have at least met before.

I don’t have anything specific in mind, but something that you could have a lot of fun with is a Road to El Dorado style piece with Lace helping Colette search for an artifact in a particular ruin and possibly fighting off some Hakkonites together heroically. Bonus points if they end up having to rescue Professor Kenric and the Chargers show up as the cavalry along with Lace being an adopted Charger.

Dalish/Skinner

Okay, so just hear me out because this prompt's a little convoluted, but it could be hilarious.

So, we know that merchant families in Antiva have their feuds like anyone else. Let's say that for reasons, one of them in particular decides to retaliate by the Montilyets' rise to power by planning to kidnap Yvette. Rather than allow her sister to stay in Val Royeaux or potentially draw the mercenaries to Skyhold, Josephine chooses to take out a contract and have The Bull's Chargers kidnap her instead and take her somewhere safe to watch over her while she investigates the plot and brings the would-be kidnappers to justice.

Contrary to expectations, Yvette is a delight. She takes to the Chargers' lifestyle surprisingly well and it's just the inspiration she needed as an artist to really flourish, except she develops a huge crush on Dalish. At first, it's completely harmless and just a lot of starry eyed wistful gazing and overwrought elvhen motifs in her sketches. Skinner's not happy, but is pacified by The Iron Bull's litany of "you could literally eat her alive, she's practically a baby, we just have to get through this one job and you'll never have to see her again". Then, despite efforts to discourage it, Yvette's crush on Dalish starts getting too big to ignore and on top of all that, her girlfriend shows up.

Who is Yvette's girlfriend? I don't know. Maybe she's a Tal Vashoth pirate who automatically sets Bull on edge, maybe she's a shady apostate with a penchant for blood magic and betrayal, maybe she's a noblewoman from a disgraced house who supposedly goes through young women like tissues. It's up to you! All I ask is all's well that ends well. I want a lighthearted romp, not heavy drama. I've tagged the pairings with Josephine that I prefer most for this piece, but if you'd like to pair her with Vivienne, Sera, or Lace Harding, I wouldn't be opposed. Pentilyet doesn't really do it for me.

Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast

Something I feel that the Cassandra romance genuinely missed out on was the possibility of an interfaith relationship between her and the Inquisitor (besides the obvious lack of not being able to romance her with a female character). I would really like to see that explored in fic.

How does she handle a partner with a belief system radically different from hers (Dalish, the Qun, the Stone, Avaar, Chasind, whatever the Vashoth or Tal Vashoth might believe in) or a nonbeliever? How much does the degree of faith affect their relationships? How do the Chantry's views on them get in the way? If her partner's actually considered to be clergy (or was before the Inquisition, such as a Keeper, an augur, a tamassran, etc.), how does she come to terms with that? Does anyone in the Inquisition help her through this trial? Do any couples who deal with these cultural differences aid her?

I don’t want to see any unhappy endings with this one, but feel free to explore it as much as you possibly can and don’t be afraid to get bitter or dark. Smut is not necessary for this prompt, but if you feel the urge, I always appreciate it, especially if it’s pseudoreligious sex full of allegories. That’s my shit.

Shokrakar

My giant women, how I love them.

I just really want some Shokrakar smut, especially if you can expand on the Valo Kas and how they fit in. I'm always down for plot with my porn. I would prefer to see her paired with any of the female characters in Inquisition, but especially Josephine, Cassandra, or Vivienne.

And that’s everything! Thanks for reading! I can’t wait to see what you do. Good luck!

Best,

        Fille

#dear wintersend letter