asifyoudidntknow
the banter is what I’m here for
jenn. she/her.x-files. msr. fanfic. GA & DD + their strangely interesting antics.watched original run from 97’ on.binged entire series in college.always down for a rewatch. sometimes other interests I enjoy. give me ALL that M+S eye contact & witty banter.
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I’ve never jived with the idea that Fox Mulder is a sex machine or, forgive the pun, a fox. I think he wants to be when he’s a young man. He studies how to be that person, approximates most of the right moves, and then the thrill is gone. He ditches more lunch dates and regular dates than he actually attends, and that plus the spooky appellation through the FBI means that through the grapevine he acquires a reputation as hard to get at best, a cad at worst. If you think about it, did he ever really see a healthy romantic relationship growing up? Sure, his parents loved one another once upon a time but there were secrets upon secrets between them both, and after Samantha was taken everything crumbled. Fox Mulder is not a stud. Fox Mulder is a mess.
#‼️#agreed but also I think he is an amazing lover#not because of previous experiences#but almost it comes natural to him#he’s attentive#has an oral fixation#and just like with cases and victims#he’s empathetic understanding and intuitive#he can clue in very quickly to the most subtle of noises movements and body language#I think that’s heightened with scully because of their closeness chemistry and ability to read one another without much more than a look#and I think just by the pitch of her moans the touch of her hand or change in her breathe#he knows
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"And most importantly, they made us believe. Very clever."
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Mulder sets alight in her an untamed aspect of herself that seeks expression over the more pragmatic, dogmatic and mundane trappings of her life. His outrageousness is her secret delight. His views and his demeanor are compelling. And she knows, deep in her heart, that he alone has the ability to strip away her cool facade and see into her fiery soul, to separate her from her most deeply held notions regarding self-sufficiency and bind her to him.
Twice-Told Tale by Audrey Roget & Blackwood
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Rewatching All Souls and I need to know why TF Scully is going to confession at a church in Alexandria, Virginia?!
#ma’am explain yourself#did she happen to stop in to this Catholic Church for confession#the episode gives the impression this is where she goes to church and father mccue is a priest at#why tf would she go to church in Alexandria when she lives in Georgetown#it would make more sense that she stopped in for confession#probably after a post case visit with mulder#dear lord I’m spiraling#mulder + scully#txf season 5#all souls
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Gillian Anderson joins WIRED to answer her most searched questions from Google.
#gillian 2024#gillian anderson#ok but the explanation about the wearing of the gstring cracks me up#sorry not sorry#not gonna shave my pubes#also her comparing intimacy of mulder + scully to gillian + david#classic
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GILLIAN ANDERSON for Netflix
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Huff Post Live: Gillian Anderson on rumours about the nature of her relationship with David Duchovny.
#this interview is one that gets me every single time#there is so much to unpack in this clip#the more than an attraction statement and nervous hair flicking raise some red flags for me#gillian anderson
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Kaddish//4x15
#Mulder + scully#i can’t with them#the way her eyes briefly flick back in his direction in the third gif#the awareness#kaddish#txf season 4
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ASK ME ANYTHING, SHE SAYS
Olay, DO MORE FISHER KING 💁🏼♀️
He marries her on the Vineyard in October. She didn’t want to be a June bride. She didn’t want to sweat and have her hair frizz and her fine vellum skin be lumpy with mosquito bites. She wanted to be cool and auburn and lovely, and it’s why he married her at all.
***
He gazed at her like a siren on a rock, like she was the last thing he’d see before it went pitch-black. She wore silk the color of Labor Day whitecaps and her veil was summer-storm mist. He loved her the way we love fire; primal and aching and fiercely hominid. He burned for her because it is a pleasure to burn.
***
He could not have cared less about the wedding but hoped she would. She hadn’t, though she’d looked at the obnoxious ring with a certain grudging respect. “It’s carbon arranged in the most boring way possible,” she observed, letting all (nearly) three carats catch the light. “”And it’s gorgeous. I love it.”
Her sapphire eyes, her garnet hair. And he’d given her a diamond, so clear and bland.
She didn’t love it, not really, and he knew it. Knew she loved it because his mother thought Catholics were simpletons and, more importantly, staff. His mother was Jewish by blood and WASP by raising. His mother preferred natural fibers. His mother excelled at tennis.
It was a family piece. It was The Done Thing, even on her plebeian Catholic finger, slim and pale and lovely as a moonbeam. His mother flinched but never balked. She was properly brought up, and her son had made a decision. She was a lady and so was Dana’s mother, in her sweetly aspiring way.
Their mothers wept and he beamed down at her like a demigod; like the Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed With The Sun.
***
He worshipped her properly later, before the applewood fire. He tossed his lot in with hers and he felt like some duke’s second son, unbound by obligation.
“Fox,” she moaned, and he loved that too. They were virgins again that night. They brushed one another like purple fruits, ripe to bursting on the vine.
***
He was appalled by how he wanted to put a baby in her, by how “wife” changed everything he thought he understood about himself.
The ring, clear as the waters of the Euphrates by day, was opalescent and clouded beneath the moon.
“Christ,” he moaned into the hot vanilla silk of her throat. “Christ, fuck, Dana…”
The tulle of her rucked-up gown left scratches on her thighs, like the tongue of a cat, and neither of them ever noticed.
***
She was a doctor again in the morning, and he was a Special Agent, and the sun was pale as straw in the weakening light.
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Never underestimate how much people want to watch two hot people who are madly in love with each other never fuck
#BUT#we were SO hopeful#don’t even#i know i know#the anticipation that this week was going to be the week#to never have that week#I’m so angry and bitter over it
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Gillian Anderson at the Extremis Press Conference, ‘97.
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just started the X-Files after years of Pop Culture osmosis, parody, references and memes
But holy shit did none of you prepare me for the pathetic wet cat rizz of Fox Mulder. Puppy dog eyes every other scene. He loses every stand off with every other government agent, military op, co-worker he bumps into. Sassy little quips in between getting his ass kicked and the puppy dog eyes. he's deeply traumatized. he has no social life. he never knows whats going on. he's one of the smartest people in any room he's in and knows more than most what's going on.
This guy is just sopping wet vibes, desperate need to believe, and love for Scully. Character of all time.
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Various Storms and Saints- Prologue
"You still haven't told me if he's cute or not."
Scully sighed and pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead, cradling the phone in the crook of her neck. Nobody could make her regret bringing up a subject as quickly as her sister when she put her mind to it. "No, Missy, I haven't," she allowed. "Because it's irrelevant. Mulder's good looks aren't the reason I miss working with him."
"So you admit it? He is cute?"
"Missy. Can we please have a serious conversation, for once?"
"Fine, fine," Melissa acquiesced, though her tone made it clear this point would be revisited in the future. "Tell me why you miss working with him, then."
"Well... part of it is the cases we tackled together," Scully said. "The autopsies I'm stuck doing now that the X-Files are shut down seem so boring in comparison to murderous clones and mind-controlling worms in the Arctic."
Melissa whistled. "Yeah, I can see how that might be a little bit of a come down. What's the other part?"
"What other part?"
"You said the cases are part of the reason. So what's the other part?"
Scully closed her eyes. How to define this most indefinable of relationships, especially to Melissa, who so often seemed to think every person in her life fit into a neat box? "I miss the way he spoke to me," she said finally. "He never talked down to me, not even when he was standing so close I practically had to break my neck to meet his eyes. He made me feel like the things I have to say are important... that they carried real weight with him, even when he didn't agree with me." She chuckled ruefully. "Which was most of the time. He's always shown me a respect that I don't get that often, being surrounded by men in positions of authority who all love to hear themselves talk."
"That does sound like it would be tough to leave behind," agreed Melissa. "Couldn't you... I dunno, lobby to be his partner on whatever assignment he's on now, though? Then at least you'd still be working together even if it wasn't in the X-Files."
"He's working with someone else," said Scully darkly. "At least he was on his most recent case. I don't know if they're officially partners or not."
"And you don't like whoever it is," said Melissa knowingly. "I can hear it in your voice." "I don't really know anything about him," Scully admitted. "But... there's something strange about him, you know? He just makes me nervous." There had been something about Alex Krycek's fresh-faced innocence that had seemed less than genuine, even if Scully couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Bad vibes, huh?"
"Maybe." Scully sighed. "For all I know, it's just my jealousy getting in the way because I want to be the one out there with Mulder."
"See, I knew you liked him," crowed Melissa, and Scully groaned, exasperated.
"Melissa. It's not like that."
"Fine, fine, whatever you say," Melissa huffed. "Hang on a sec, okay?" The phone was muffled, as though Melissa had put her hand over the receiver. Someone's voice asked a garbled question, Melissa gave an equally garbled response, and a moment later, she was back. "Hey Danes, I gotta go, okay?"
"Wait, Melissa, what's your--"
"There's a meditation session I'm supposed to lead and they're waiting for me. I'll call you soon, okay?"
"But Melissa, where are--" There was a click, and the line went dead.
Scully dropped her bedroom extension back into its cradle on the nightstand and sank back onto her bed with a sigh, snuggling into the cardigan she'd pulled on over her work clothes when she'd walked into her apartment. She'd come home from work for lunch, having finished her morning teaching session a little early, and had been available purely by chance when Melissa called for the first time in two months. Phone conversations with her older sister, while always welcome, tended to be exhausting these days. She hadn't seen Melissa in years, not since the day after her graduation from medical school. Melissa hadn't made it to the event itself, but she'd shown up at the party her parents had thrown her afterwards. Melissa hadn't understood her sister's disappointment, and Maggie Scully, as she so often did, had defended her elder daughter to her younger.
"You know big ceremonies aren't really your sister's thing, Dana," she'd said, patting Scully's shoulder consolingly. "She barely sat through her own high school graduation. Just be thankful she's here for the celebration, all right?"
Sitting through a graduation ceremony was boring, to be sure, but that hadn't stopped Scully from doing it for all three of her siblings when they'd finished high school, plus for Bill and Charlie when they'd finished college. In her opinion, it had nothing to do with how exciting or boring the ceremony itself was, and everything to do with showing up for the people she loved when their hard work and accomplishments were recognized.
Showing up. That was something Melissa had traditionally had difficulty with, when it came down to it.
They hadn't even had a working phone number for Melissa last Christmas when Ahab had passed. Scully, tasked with handling everything while her mother waded through her initial shock and grief, had called every friend of Melissa's she could think of, trying to locate her sister, and had failed. She'd been reduced to sending a letter to Melissa's last known address in hopes it might get correctly forwarded. But it never got to her, as was evidenced three months later when Melissa had called home, chatted with Maggie cheerfully about her recent travels, and then had asked to speak to her father and had been completely lost when her mother had burst into tears.
"Free-spirited" had always been how the family had described Melissa. But deep down, in her darkest and most shameful thoughts, the word Scully sometimes landed on was "selfish."
Scully's cell phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She half-expected it to be Mulder, begging her to do another autopsy he couldn't trust with anyone else, but it was Roy Seekamp, a fellow FBI pathologist whose office in the Hoover building was next to Scully's.
"Where are you?" asked Roy. "One of the AD's came looking for you but your office is locked. Skinner, I think his name was?"
"I came home for lunch. What's going on?"
"Something big is going down in Virginia," said Roy. "Some hostage situation with an escaped mental patient."
Scully frowned, confused. "Why would they need me for that?" she asked.
"I don't think they actually need you or anything," said Roy. "The AD was just looking for you to let you know your old partner is there on the scene."
Scully's heart skipped a beat. "Mulder is there?" She got off the bed and raced out of her bedroom, tearing off the cardigan and snatching up her bag. "What's he doing there? He's not a hostage negotiator!"
"No idea," said Roy. "I think AD Skinner just wanted you to hear it from him. You coming back to the office?"
"Yes," Scully said, pulling on her shoes. "Be there soon." She ended the call and stuffed her phone into her bag, then looked down and realized she was still clutching her cardigan. She folded it in half and draped it over the back of her couch on her way out the door.
It stayed there, untouched, for over a month.
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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers.
Thanks for the tag @baronessblixen
1. My kids
2. Reading, whether it’s books or fic
3. Photography
4. Sunshine
5. A good cocktail
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