Huntlow really does have it all, sick as hell color scheme, subversion of heteronormative relationship dynamics, enemies to friends to lovers, short buff gf and tol beanpole bf, bisexuality, trauma, pining, good communication, battle couple, narrative parallels, unconventional beauty standards, girl boss and malewife.

Even if the huntlow shippers are right and every frame where they stand next to each other and every bit of crew art was part of some complex metanarrative hinting at how theyre totally in love and how the crew was being suppressed by disney from overtly developing a m/f couple for some reason. That. Still isnt a good way to write a ship? You straight up cannot build up a good romance only from longing glances or whatever if we never actually see them talking to each other. Especially since hunter and willow are both main characters.

Like even if you take the things theyve said AT each other after the flyer derby episode (which was the last time they actually had a conversation btw) and twist it into flirting i still have to ask...why would they flirt with each other? We havent seen them talk about anything important AT ALL since the first time they met so what kind of bond are they supposed to have with each other? Beyond just friends/teammates? Hell we never even see them just be friends onscreen without their other friends there except for i guess the haircut scene. Even as friends willow and hunter are not each others most important friendships. Id even argue theyre both closer to literally every other member of the hexsquad than each other.

Ppl freak out over flirty scenes or longing glances from other ships because theres actual substance behind the ships. The funny flirting and the frames where they maybe stand next to each other are supposed to enhance an already existing relationship. Where the characters actually talk to each other about important stuff and find comfort in each others company or whatever. If its meant to be a background easter egg or the characters arent important to the story or its just for audience speculation its fine if it doesnt have that. But huntlow shippers think these two major characters will actually start dating and have their romance be an important part of the story. And idk how to tell them that building a relationship out of longing glances with nothing to hold it together is uhhhhhhh bad! It would not be well written! Yes a ship doesnt HAVE to be complicated and yes huntlow doesnt HAVE to be exactly like lumity or raeda but if theres no equivalent scenes for me to get emotionally invested in their potetial romance then like. What are we even doing here! Just because you CAN write a totally shallow ship where they never talk but sometimes look at each other doesnt mean that kind of writing wouldnt suck shit!

Exactly. Even if this was something Dana intended and planned out from the start for these two characters (which if she had, why hasn't their relationship developed more than speaking once or twice on screen for more than a few words?), it's not good writing. It's not a well-written relationship. Just because it's a boy and a girl doesn't mean it's automatically a fulfilling and intriguing relationship, or important to the plot. We genuinely, really haven't seen them have a full, important, or one on one conversation since ASIAS so it fucking baffles me how people are so convinced they're in love and "already canon". Because, yeah, longing glances (from only one party in the ship at that) don't mean fuck all. They can easily be read as embarrassment or admiration or nervousness rather than a crush or inherently romantic. Like. Do they think Willow showing any type of interest in something Hunter is clearly passionate about romance? Because if so she must also be in love with Gus, Luz, Amity, and Vee. And vice versa, anyone that shows interest in Hunter's interest must also be in love with him. Which obviously is ridiculous and doesn't track.

They rarely interact in the latest episode, too. Willow has more development with Amity and Vee than with Hunter, and like you said, is clearly depicted as being much closer friends with Gus, Amity, and Vee with Hunter kind of being slightly outcasted in the friend group (not maliciously or anything, obviously, but it's pretty clear). We obviously have the haircut scene and implications that they've all hung out together in the time that they've been in the human realm, but they're only shown one one one ONCE in the montage of all things. And that scene is entirely happenstance, not a planned or intentional hangout. Willow walks in on him cutting his hair and helps him, they weren't intending to spend time one on one- Willow was just being a good friend and stepping in because she happened to be there. Both Hunter and Willow are closer to every other person in their friend group than each other.

They barely have any interaction, there's hardly any actual canon content for their "relationship", and we only have two episodes left as both characters actively grow closer to their other friends. There's nothing there to get invested in, like you said, other than fan content where the characters' personalities are totally changed. Sorry hunt/lows but your ship is sinking and you're all ankle deep in the water singing and shouting about how canon your ship is as they actively do not even speak to each other.

meet the bombshells: beach hut confessions

thank you to everyone who submitted questions. seriously, didn’t think so many of you were eager to meet these bombshells. and by all means, feel free to continue sending them in, all six of them are open to answering your most probing questions.

🎇[ part i ]🎇[ part ii ]🎇[ part iii ]🎇

confessions below for ig, tandy & marco! you can find their interview here!

@dragonfly1399 asks: Hiii! Um. So, um, a question for IG 👉👈 will he, um… will he teach me how to play cello? Please? It’s a big dream of mine🥺 I’ll be a good student, I promise! *wink wink*

IG: (whistles) “I always did want to do some tutoring. (wiggles his eyebrows suggestively) If I’m still available after this stint, I’ll drop by. Just drop your info in my DMs.” (Marcos chuckles, Tandy shakes her head) “What? You do realize the odds of us all staying in the villa are about—“ (counts with his fingers)

M: “You’re actually doing the maths for this? (shakes his head) The best odds is if two of us stays. (IG sighs) Or something like that, anyways.”

T: “Anyways— cellist really? You’re whole vibe says indie rock, what’s that about? (Marco nods, IG opens his mouth to speak) And better not be a sob story please, we’ve already gone over our odds.”

IG: “I had a knack for it as a kid and people said I could make a decent living off of it. So I did. No sob story here.” (Marco bursts out laughing)

@richdesire says: hiiii marco *waves flirtatiously* tell me about your favorite places to go on a date? what qualities do you look for in a partner? have you ever been stood up or stood someone else up? i noticed you have a lot of tattoos, which is your most meaningful? can you step on me pls?

IG: (cackles) “Holy shit! That’s a lot of questions for you, pretty boy. I bet Tandy and I can answer a few for you.” (Marco raises a brow)

T: “I bet we could. Hmm, seeing that Marco here has never technically been on an date, I bet they’d say— (clears their throat, semi-italian accent) Ay, somewhere private, just the two of us, private chef…”

M: “It’s all in the tongue, (Tandy practices a bit) yeah, there you got it. And honestly, going out maybe trying one of those DIY classes together. I rather have something to converse about other than our jobs. (IG agrees) Qualities in a partner, well patience is one, someone I can hold a conversation with is two. Besides that, I’m not really sure.”

IG: “You want someone to vibe with, nothing wrong with that, boyyo.” (puts an arm around Marco)

M: “I stood up a crowd at a pub. It wasn’t intentional or anything, I was awful sick.” (Tandy cringes) “Yeah, I haven’t eaten pancakes since. About the tattoos, most are tokens for special moments. I’ve got one for the first mixtape I made, another one for my first gig, one for my best mate Hanni…the others are random shit Hanni and my mates thought were cool.”

T: “Is this unicorn one of them?” (Marco smirks)

IG: “You got a unicorn? Let me see!”

M: “Oh, and the thing about stepping on you. If it’s alright with you, I rather we just exchange numbers.”

@/anon says: What do you guys think about MC’s and their ex in the villa, together?

T: “It’s a bunch of rubbish. They’re basically living in Suresh’s shadow. It’s f***ing ridiculous. Like give them a break. So they were ready to propose, really scary shit. Get over yourselves.”

IG: “It’s bound to be awkward for anyone trying to go after either one of them, but if you’re gonna let the ex get in the way, why are you even here? Shoot your shot or get out of my way. I had hope for Finny boy, but he was just all talk.” (Marco nods)

M: “Why sweat it? He doesn’t even have the balls to actually apologize. All MC wants is a someone reliable, who can take things as they come. And I’ve got a feeling we’re doing a lot better than everyone else in that villa right now.”

@/anon says: If you guys had the choice to couple up with someone, who would it be?

IG: "Before the last episode, I’d have said Finn or MC. Now, it’s just MC."

T: "A bit controversial, but Dana. Maybe, MC, but I need to see whether they’re into their ex or not."

M: "Don’t know— I want to say MC. But, if things had to go in a different direction, Kat. No I’m not explaining what I mean by different direction."

stay tuned for more beach hut confessions for and feel free to once again, submit your asks to the bombshells. either way, i'm putting them in the hot seat.

Find me defenseless (Chapter 3)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer.  When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.  

Words: 1714, Chapters: 3/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Des Moines Police Department Des Moines, Iowa June 7 0250

“What do you mean, ‘He’s been missing for 24 hours?’” Skinner winces at the volume of Scully’s voice. “Why the hell didn’t anyone call me?”

“The Omaha field office assured me they had things well in hand, Scully,” Skinner attempts to placate.

Truth be told, he wasn’t happy about it either - had only been brought in on the matter himself a few hours ago when the field office got their second call from the killer.

“That’s a load of crap, sir, and we both know it,” Scully responds, not having any of it. Skinner doesn’t blame her.

“Be that as it may, Agent,” Skinner says, “what’s done is done. What we need to focus on now is finding Mulder and bringing him home safe.”

A deep, measured sigh comes from the other line, and Skinner can almost see her slipping her composure back on like a second skin - however short-lived it’s going to be with her partner’s life on the line. “Yes sir. I’ll be on the next flight out. I’m already in the airport.”

“I’ll have an agent pick you up when your flight lands,” Skinner says, taking a breath after her curt “yes, sir” and prompt hang up.

Putting down the phone, Skinner sits back in his chair, heaving a sigh. He’s already lit a fire under the ass of every agent from the Omaha field office, and the local police chief already had all of her people out looking for Mulder when Skinner’d arrived. Every available resource was searching for his agent. The best thing he could do now was to wait for Scully to arrive and keep her from killing everyone between her and her partner.

-

Brady Hoover's House Location unknown June 5 0450

Blind panic.

That's the first thing Mulder experiences as he regains consciousness.

He can't see anything. Why can't he see anything?

His heart beats wildly in his chest as he swings his head around and blinks, trying desperately to figure out why his vision is black.

Ohgodwhycantiseewhycantiseewhycantiseewhycantise--

"Ah, you're awake." He's startled out of his spiral by a voice from the dark. "How are you feeling?"

Mulder can't answer; his heart is beating so fast it's hard to concentrate on anything else.

"I see the little cocktail I gave you has kicked in," the voice says. Mulder notes vaguely that it sounds pleased. "I don't even have to check your pulse. I can see it racing in your neck from here." A chuckle.

Oh, is that what that is? Mulder's not even sure if he can feel his heart beating anymore.

"Don't worry, Fox. The panic should, unfortunately, pass in a minute. I just thought it would be a fun way for you to wake up." Mulder barely registers the words.

Soon enough, however, it seems the voice was telling the truth - Mulder begins to feel his heart slow, able to take a full breath for the first time in what feels like forever but in reality had only been a few minutes.

Once the panic has passed, Mulder is able to register and process several things: 1) the scratchy feeling on his face around his eyes - a blindfold! So that's why I can't see, 2) the voice belongs to the rookie cop who'd picked him up from his motel room - Brady Hoover, his mind supplies, and 3) he's currently strapped to some kind of chair, effectively immobilized from the chest down. Guess I'm not going anywhere any time soon.

"Feeling better now, Fox?" Brady taunts. Mulder suppresses a full-body flinch at the use of his first name. "Good." The blindfold is yanked off roughly and Mulder has to blink rapidly as the abrupt change in brightness momentarily blinds him.

Brady stands before him -- dressed in casual clothes now, a sharp contrast to the uniform he'd been wearing earlier -- looking almost mild but for the manic glimmer in his eyes. He gestures to a table on his right.

Following his gaze, Mulder has to tamp down on a surge of fear - the table is covered in all manner of blades, cattle prods, stun guns, lighters and the ilk. Oh, this is going to be bad.

Brady walks over to the table. "What shall we start with, Fox? Hmm? A blade? A flame?" He considers each one carefully, continuing casually as if discussing the weather, "Not up for talking yet? Funny." He picks up a cattle prod. "I couldn't get you to shut up earlier when you were telling me your profile."

It was a universal invariant that once Fox Mulder started talking, getting him to stop was nigh impossible -- Scully could (and would) attest to this -- but never let it be said that he couldn't shut up if he really wanted to. He stares up at his captor defiantly.

Brady gives him a considering look that shifts into a slow smirk. "Wanna make a bet, Fox?” He doesn’t, actually - not that Brady was really asking. “I bet I can have you screaming your throat raw by the end of the day.”

Mulder physically bites his tongue to hold in a retort; lets his gaze hold his challenge.

Brad laughs heartily. “You are so much like him,” he muses. He’s talking about the object of his anger, Mulder thinks to himself. “So arrogant. So sure you’re better than everyone else.” Without warning, Brady sparks the cattle prod and jabs it firmly into Mulder’s ribs. His back arcs as much as it can off the chair with his chest restraint, muscles contracting painfully as six thousand volts surge through them. He heaves in a relieved breath when Brady pulls the prod back, giving him a brief respite. “You know, you said in the car that I would likely never find a perfect surrogate for him; the last guy -- Rick, I think -- was so wrong I was beginning to think I’d never get justice. But you’re perfect. He’s finally going to get what’s coming to him.”

That’s it; Mulder can’t take it anymore. He’s got to know. “What did he do? This guy -- what did he do to you that’s made you kill so many people?” Fuck. So much for his vow of silence.

Universal invariant indeed.

“I knew I could get you to talk,” Brady says, looking delighted. “God, you really are just like him. Can’t stand not knowing everything, can you?” He brings the prod down again, sending another 6000 volts through Mulder.

“What can I say?” Mulder pants out when he recovers enough to talk. “I’m a curious guy.”

Brady smirks. “Well unfortunately for you, Fox, I don’t think I want to say just yet. After all,” he brings the prod down again, “we’re just getting to know each other. You’re my perfect surrogate,” he mocks. “You’re not leaving here alive, and I plan on having plenty of fun with you before I put you out of your misery.” He shocks Mulder one more time -- on the other side this time, to even things out -- before turning to select a different tool. “We’ll have more than enough time to learn each others’ deepest secrets, Fox.”

Brady turns back to Mulder, a cruel grin on his face and a new tool in his hand - a wicked-looking knife, blade ground to a gleaming edge. Mulder steels himself -- ha -- as Brady sets in on him.

His screams carry out into the grey dawn.

-

Des Moines International Airport Des Moines, Iowa June 7 0600

The agent that picks Scully up at the airport is painfully wet-behind-the-ears; he ends every sentence with “ma’am”, stumbling over his words and refusing to meet her eyes. In any other situation, she might find it endearing, but now it only serves to grate on her already-frazzled nerves.

Luckily for both of them, the drive from the airport to the station takes less than 10 minutes -- if the poor agent had broken the speed limit a couple times getting her there neither of them was going to say anything about it.

“Where’s your ASAC?” Scully asks the young agent as soon as they get inside. The kid immediately points to an office at the back of the precinct.

Scully heads straight for it. Officers and agents alike part like the red sea to let her pass - Agent Scully is on the war path, and no one wants to be between her and her destination.

She barges through the door without knocking. “Why wasn’t I contacted sooner?” She demands without preamble.

The ASAC blinks at her. “Excuse me?”

“Agent Mulder,” she says slowly, “is my partner. Why wasn’t I contacted immediately when you knew he was missing?”

“Protocol dictates --”

“I don’t give a DAMN what protocol states.” She slams her hands down on the desk, making the ASAC jump. “He’s. My. Partner,” she grinds out. “I should’ve been your first call.”

Scully sees a hint of fear in the ASAC’s eyes before he hides it, continuing casually, “To be frank, Agent Scully, we weren’t sure he was missing. We figured he was just off being… ‘spooky’.” His mouth tilts up in a little grin at the mocking nickname.

“What do you mean,” Scully begins, low and dangerous, “‘you weren’t sure he was missing’?” She stalks around the desk, getting closer with each word. “Isn’t it your job, as regional ASAC, to make sure you’re getting regular reports from all agents under your supervision? To know where they are at all times?”

“Yes, but --”

“Then why didn’t you know that Agent Mulder was missing?” She has him now; the fear is back in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything. “This is a serious failure on your part. Now, because you’re my superior, and because I’m sure Assistant Director Skinner has already dressed you down for this, I’ll let it go for now. But rest assured,” she’s in his face now, almost nose-to-nose with him, “if you put my partner’s life in any further danger, or do anything to impede the search, there will be no place on this Earth you can hide from me, regardless of your rank. Is that understood?” The ASAC nods. Scully backs up, satisfied for the moment that she’s put the fear of God into him. “Good. Now what’s the status of the search?”

(chapter 4)

Lizzie Saltzman Fluff ABC’s

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Lizzie loves that you’re confident.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

That’s not on Lizzie’s list of things at the moment. She’s more focused on making the most of her teenage years.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

She likes almost every position where she’s on your lap and your arms are around her.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

On the days you can’t go into town you always find somewhere quiet for a candle lit dinner.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Prince charming.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Although, she always kind of knew she was in love with you, it was her sixteenth birthday. When you two were dancing at the party you put so much time and effort into, she realized that no one else do all that just for her.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Contrary to some people’s beliefs, Lizzie isn’t a total bitch, but let’s be honest the most gentle she ever is is when she apologizing to you after a fight.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Lizzie more so clings to your arm than hold your hand.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Lizzie had  the BIGGEST crush on you and it was obvious to everyone and you thought was cute.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

You know that’s she jealous when she gets extra bitchy and has to mention the fact you’re dating almost every second sentence.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You were the one to first kiss her. She was busy being a complete mess as she tried to finally admit her feelings for you and kissing her was a polite way of shutting her up.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Around the 3 month mark, she began dropping tons of hints. “She wants you to say it first, Y/N. You know that, right?” Josie told you. You then planned a romantic date which got interrupted by a monster before you even got the chance. After that a week went by without you saying until you said it softly as you were walking her to class. She couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

This is not her favourite memory but it’s the first memory of you that really stuck out to here. You guys had only talked someone times and other than that you said hi whenever you saw each other. It was after she had an episode and she walking by and saw you cleaning up the mess she had made. 

“Y/N, you know don’t have to do that.” she said from the door way.

“I know.” you said, giving her a kind smile before going back to cleaning up.

She watched you and began to feel a mix of guilt and embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You looked up at her. “Hey, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I totally understand. How are you feeling now?”

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

As power couple of the Salvatore school,  she accepts nothing but the best for you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Red, because one time when was wearing red you said that it was a nice colour on her.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Baby

Hottie

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

When you’re studying Lizzie some how always manages to bring you some baked goods that she may or may not have gotten to make for her.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Rain always seems to ruin whatever plans she had for the day. She pouts for a bit until you propose movies and cuddling, which in the always makes her forget why was upset set in the first place.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Episodes are inevitable from Lizzie, but one of the things that helps calm down is talking to you.  When it comes to you, she drops whatever she was going to rant about and holds you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Lizzie loves the fact that she can vent to you about anything.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Whenever she's being over dramatic or overthinking about a situation you are always there to tell her that she is and she needs to chill.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

As part of the school’s power couple, it’s you she likes showing off. Especially around Dana.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

You guys went on a trip to Europe, somewhere along the Mediterranean, to see her mom and you had to bring Josie and Alaric as well. The first night there at dinner, having a good time and enjoying the food, Caroline could sense something was up and asked you what you were really doing visiting her. You smiled nervously before turning to Lizzie and getting on your knee as you professed your undying love for her.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Juice by Lizzo  (No one can convince that Lizzie doesn’t love Lizzo)

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Lizzie, again, is focused on enjoying living in the present, but she always had this image of her with someone rich and successful.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

She’s the type of girl to get a French bulldog.

tags: @arrow359​ here you go

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1999

A list with quite possibly the most embarrassing #1 yet, and considering some of the previous ones, that’s really saying something.

Also, a very, very long list of honorable mentions.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This could have almost been a top fifteen, because holy f█cking shit look at this list of honorable mentions. I might eventually make a top 15 for some years (gosh I just finished my 2013 top and it’s a massacre of good songs, an absolute disaster, and I’m seriously considering making it a top 15 or 20 I swear), but for now, it’s still manageable.

Summer Son (Texas) - Why is this so hot. The lyrics aren’t even hot in the first place. What the hell.

That Don’t Impress Me Much (Shania Twain) - Not my favorite song from her but still very good. Fun fact, one of my English teachers was using songs as dictation exercises and that was the hardest one he ever used for that. I don’t think any of us got the Elvis line right. Also he’s solely responsible for me loving The Cure because the second song he used for this kind of exercise was Boys Don’t Cry. This has nothing to do with Shania Twain but I thought it was a fun little story to tell.

Jusqu’au Bout de la Nuit (Emile et Images) - Two French bands from the eighties team up and release a song which is composed of every single one of their hit songs from the eighties, with each chorus sung one after the other, and... it sounds great? And it charted?? My brother absolutely loved them, too. The only reason it’s not on the list is that it feels like cheating, in a way. I mean, half these songs could top some of my lists on their own. Putting them together is a dirty trick, guys! Oh well, I love you all anyway.

Baby One More Time (Britney Spears) - I really love this song and it was on the list at first, but overplay played a big role in its removal from it.

L’Ame Stram Gram (Mylène Farmer) - Has the privilege of being the first Mylène Farmer music video I ever saw in my life. Was incredibly confused but also fascinated. The song isn’t her best though, and she’s on so many of these lists that I claim self care on its removal from this one, especially because, uh... she’s still gonna appear on it anyway. Damn it.

Move Your Body (Eiffel 65) - I told you I loved stupid dance music didn’t I. Unfortunately things aren’t gonna get better as years pass. I just made a list (which is gonna be posted muuuuuuch later) where I put David Guetta six places higher than Adele. This isn’t a joke.

Save Tonight (Eagle Eye Cherry) - I genuinely love this song and it’s kinda sad I couldn’t fit it on any of the two lists where it was elligible.

La Manivelle (Wazoo) - This would NEVER have charted if La Tribu de Dana by Manau hadn’t been such an enormous hit the previous year. Not in a million years. And if it hadn’t, the world would have been a little less fun. So I’m glad. I love it and it was one of the last cuts from this list.

Kiss Me (Sixpence None the Richer) - Was also on the list at first. Was removed because it never ended on any compilation I made and that’s the only reason.

Well, that was long. Here’s the proper list.

10 - Crazy (Britney Spears)

US: Not on the list?? I was very surprised / FR: #14

So I dug up the first cd compilations I ever made for the previous list, and look what’s the first song on the third compilation I ever made!

Relistened to it, still love it to bits, put it on the list. Sorry Kiss Me.

9 - All Star (Smash Mouth)

US: #17 / FR: Not on the list

I know it’s impossible to listen to it with fresh ears after something like 15 years of memes. But it’s still damn good and a ton of fun to sing along with it.

8 - Ma Baker 99 (Boney M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

Where’s that photo of the cd compilation I mentioned in the previous list?

There it is.

Yep, it’s a remix, but it charted here, and it sounds and looks absolutely fantastic. I had never heard the original at the time for some reason, and that song sounded so badass. I could only understand isolated bits of the lyrics (like “she was the meanest cat in all Chicago town”, “the cops appeared too soon they couldn’t get away”, “she never could cry”) but it was enough to get a general idea, and that was back when I was starting to realise than most of the dance songs I enjoyed as a kid didn’t tell stories and weren’t about wizards and magic. So, a song about a mean woman who’s also a gangster?? I was like, wow, nice, a song I like with an actual story, give me twenty.

7 - Boom Boom Boom Boom (Vengaboys)

US: Not on the list / FR: #20

Told you I loved Vengaboys! It’s also on that third cd compilation I ever made!

Fun fact, at the time, for a while I didn’t know what the lyrics were and since I only knew a couple of words of English I was convinced a “broom” was somehow involved in the lyrics instead of a “room”.

6 - Souviens-toi du jour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #73

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ; I used to be a huge fan of her as a teenager and my brain somehow links her and her songs in general to some dark times in my life - and so, every single time she appears on one of my lists, I feel like I’m texting an unstable ex and that things will end horribly and I probably shouldn’t do that but, ugh, can’t help it, love her too much.

Ok so the first seconds are actually painful to listen to but holy shit, that’s a beautiful, beautiful song. When the chorus swells near the end, so full of hope and light? Amazing. Chills on my arms every single time. That’s from one of her best albums, too. I have nothing more to say about it.

5 - Better Off Alone (Alice Deejay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

I don’t have anything to say about this one apart from the fact one of my friends around 2005 thought the lyrics were “do you think you’re better? rofl lol” and I think that’s hilarious.

Moving on to- oh shit oh no not that song

4 - Je te rends ton amour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #97

What I said in #6 also applies here and this song is so dark it feels even worse. That song used to be very important in my life. Bad memories, bad times. Really, really bad times.

So. Uh. This is a song about a woman in a painting, who’s despising her creator, and possibly (that’s very, very open to interpretation, here’s a translation) coming out of her frame to kill him. That’s quite possibly the weirdest story I’ve ever heard in a song, and I love it. And it sounds so sinister. God, the first notes. They are so ominous. And that brief moment of silence after the bridge, right before the guitar explodes again? Horrible chills. I’m not sure who killed who or what actually happened in the story but press F to pay respects.

Also the music video has nothing to do with the lyrics and it’s absolutely terrifying and I shouldn’t have watched this at 14 because it’s kinda burned into my mind now and it will never go away and you probably shouldn’t watch it either.

If it wasn’t so inextricably linked to bad memories, this song would be #2. I still love it and listen to it but I kinda jump like a scared rabbit whenever I hear it by surprise and it should come with its own trigger warning as far as I’m concerned.

3 - Narcotic (Liquido)

US: Not on the list / FR: #99

This is barely elligible. But I’m so, so glad it is. These chords right there? Love them. Love. Them.

Also here’s a fun story about this song and me. At first, I was like “oh wow, I can only understand one word out of five, but this sounds badass.” Then a couple of years later I was like “oh. Oh no. It’s about drugs.” And THEN a few years later I was like “oh shit oh no. It’s about sex.” But no, now that I can understand everything, it’s just a breakup song. It’s okay.

2 - Where I’m headed (Lene Marlin)

US: Not on the list / FR: #24

Ok so. Uh. I just realised this song was called Where I’m headed and not, as I believed for literally 18 years, “Pass By”. I had never checked. I have it on several tapes and several cd compilations, always labelled Pass By. It’s also called Pass By on the mp3 I still have in my playlist. I know I’m in the wrong here and probably never checked what the title was but I still feel like there’s been a glitch in the matrix. What happened.

Anyway. Fantastic song. Love it.

Now let’s embarrass myself beyond all hopes of redemption.

1 - Blue (Eiffel 65)

US: Not on the list (...yet. #49 in 2000) / FR: #2

So. Uh. Yeah.

Blue by Eiffel 65 was, for a long, long, LONG time, my favorite song ever.

See? This is one of my oldest lists of favorite songs.

Another one from several months later.

A cd compilation of my favorite songs ever, which I made around 2003 or 2004 as well, with a booklet with lyrics entirely copied by hand and with every page painstakingly illustrated with panels and characters from my favorite comic at the time, Horologiom.

You open the booklet, and look at that, Blue is the second song right after Children.

This silly song which lists blue things and has a nonsensical chorus and one of the dumbest music videos of the entire 90s was, indeed, for years, my favorite song ever. Why. How. Well, first, please remember I am, in fact, a sucker for dance music and electronic music ESPECIALLY when a piano is involved, but this isn’t at all why this song was special to me (and still is, actually).

As I already mentioned, music has colors to me and guess what’s the dominant color of this song? Yepppppp. This is one of the bluest songs ever made even if there’s a little black, yellow and green here and there - the only song I can think about right now which out-blues it is Derezzed by Daft Punk.

And I can’t even begin to explain how SATISFYING a blue song called “Blue” listing blue things and which has an extremely blue music video is.

I know. It’s an embarrassing #1 even for 1999. It took me a long time to post this list partly for this reason. But I wouldn’t be honest if it was placed at any other position. It’s stupid, it’s repetitive, it’s meaningless. I absolutely love it and I’ve loved it for twenty years.

Deal with it.

Next up: the year when I actually started to buy cds with my own money, with debatable results.

X-Files: Tickling Abduction

I found this story between 1998-2000ish and I still find it amazing!

TITLE: X-Files WRITTEN BY: Sierra Stinson TOPIC: f/f , f/m, m/f Tickling 

X-Files Agents Mulder & Scully stood near the center of the massive corn field near Arthur, Kansas. The stalks surrounded them at neck level, hiding them from sight, from human sight. They squinted as the blinding lights descended upon them. Scully’s soft red hair blew wildly around her face & neck. There had been sightings reported here before, but none documented or proved. This was it. This is what they both had been searching for these past years. The truth. Some kind of truth. “Mulder?” shouted Scully, “do they know we’re here?” Without taking his eyes of the space craft he shouted, “They’ve traveled millions of light years to get her, Scully. I think they know the difference between us & the vegetables.” Scully reached into her coat pocket & produced her camera. As she put the camera to her face the hovering craft emitted 2 beams of fiery-red light. One beam struck each of them. Instant paralysis overcame them. Scully’s camera fell from her grasp. Neither of them could speak, move, or even blink an eye. As their feet lifted off the ground they grew weak inside, & fell unconscious as they were pulled towards the mysterious craft. Mulder awakened first. He was groggy, a bit weak, but no harm had come to him. His first deduction was that he was not on earth anymore. The large room around him was like nothing he had seen. Immaculately clean for starters. & none of the usuall things like pictures, chairs, etc. Immediately he sensed he was restrained. He was held in a standing position with his back against a cold flat surface. A stainless steel of some sort, he assumed. Holding him to that surface were restraints upon his wrists, elbows, waist, knees & ankles. His feet were on the floor, so that he somewhat supported his own weight. Whether he did or not, the fact remained that he was helplessly restrained. It took Mulder a second longer to realize he was stripped of his clothing. As his senses awakened he also noticed the temperature was quite cool. His guess would be 60-70 degrees. As he began to scan the room he saw agent Scully directly in front of him. She was on a rack of some sort. His view of her was from the left side of her body. Her feet were pointing to his left, her head to the right. It wasn’t a table. She was lying on her back but was being held up only at the joints of her skeletal structure. She was stretched out spread eagle. Perfectly formed supports were under & above her wrists, elbows, head, shoulders, waist, upper thighs, knees, & ankles. The supports were rather thin, seemingly covering as little of her flesh as possible. Because these supports were both over & under her & pressed together, they served as a kind of ‘hand cuffing’ of her entire body. Because Scully was not on any solid surface, nearly all of her body was exposed on all sides. The more Mulder studied her bonds, the less restrained he felt within his. He noticed that even Scully’s toes & fingers were individually spaced apart & held motionless by miniature supports around them. Then, he realized that he was seeing something he had been wanting to see for a long time. Although he hadn’t dreamed it up this way, he took the moment to look longingly at agent Scully’s body. Never had he realized how milky white & flawless her skin was. Without having to touch it, he understood the baby like softness of her stomach & sides, the white hollows of her underarms as they stretched out above her head. As his eyes traced down her shapely legs, he was somehow uneasy about the fact that he couldn’t get a good look at the soles of her feet. He could see flushes of pink as the sides of them rounded out of sight onto her soles. Then he broke from his lustful trance. How long had he been admiring her? He didn’t know. He couldn’t worry about it now. “Scully,” he whispered. Her eyelids moved slightly. “Scully?” he repeated louder. As she opened her eyes he realized that she would see him naked, & know that he could see her. He didn’t talk, but waited for her reaction. She too, realized she was held captive, & sensed her nakedness. “Mulder?” she said. “I’m here, Scully,” he replied calmly. Sensing which direction his voice came from she tried to roll her eyes that way, but the angle was to difficult. Unable to rotate her neck, she could only see agent Mulder from his chest up, but saw that his arms were restrained above him. “It’s cold in here. Are we alone?” she asked. “I think so, but I’m sure they’re watching.” Agent Scully spoke again, “We’re on the ship, aren’t we?” Agent Mulder replied with humor, “This isn’t Kansas anymore.” After a few seconds of silence Scully complained, “I can’t move any part of my body a single inch.” “I can see that.” replied Mulder, “Does it hurt?” “Does what hurt?” asked Scully. It dawned on Mulder that agent Scully, being unable to move her head or neck, possibly could not even see the mechanisms holding her in place. “Your being restrained with ….with I don’t know what. Can’t you feel the pressure all over your body?” questioned Mulder. Scully again rolled her eyes around, trying to aquaint herself with her surroundings. “No, nothing on my body hurts. I feel extremely soft pressure when I concentrate, like on my elbows for instance, but I can’t even bend one of my fingers or toes,” she informed him. “Yeah,” Mulder replied, “don’t ask me to scratch an itch for you.” A few seconds later a triangle shape on the wall turned into light & seemed to dissolve. Only Mulder could see it. 3 alien beings entered. They took tiny steps & were short like the pictures & actual sightings Mulder & Scully had seen before. Mulder wasn’t sure if they had genders, but if he had to guess, 2 of them looked more feminine than the other. All 3 together approached Scully & gazed down at her with a look of wonderment. They turned their heads like puppies do when they are puzzled or intrigued. After studying Scully they did likewise to Mulder. Mulder studied them right back. Even though it was not the best of circumstances, this was the greatest moment of his life. He was face to face with real live beings from outer space. Then the non-female of the 3 communicated to the other 2. It wasn’t in English of course. It wasn’t with any spoken words. Then he left through the door of light. Swiftly 1of the 2 aliens went & stood at Scully’s side. “Mulder? Do you have any theories?” asked Scully, as she anticipated something was to happen. “No, they wouldn’t tell me,” joked Mulder. Scully dismissed Mulder’s attempt at humor. She understood it was his way of staying relaxed & in control. But she was scared. She had been in this situation before. On a table. Bright lights. People standing over her. The last thing she wanted was another micro-chip implanted somewhere on her body. As these thoughts raced through her head, the alien transformed its image. The change was swift & precise. Now, one second later, standing over agent Scully was a real a live human woman. Scully’s eyes widened. The woman smiled warmly at agent Scully. She was rather tall, probably 5’ 9” with long dark brown hair. Her eyes were emarald green. Her figure was near perfect by today’s standards. She wore all black, though she wore little. A sleeveless half shirt, a miniskirt, & healed boots. All the items were unquestionably leather. But most noticeable of the woman’s appearance were her long red fingernails. Mulder was impressed. “Missy?” said Scully. The woman replied, “Hi Dana, long time huh?” Mulder was confused. “Scully do you know this woman?” he asked. Before Scully could reply the woman turned to agent Mulder & said, “Of course she knows me. We went to graduate school together.” Mulder remained silent. She turned her attention back to Scully. “It’s all right Dana. I know how you feel about me. I’ve always known.” Agent Scully was in utter shock. For years she had been sexually attracted to Melissa, but had never told her. In fact, Melissa was the only woman Scully had ever fantasized about. All of this was happening in front of agent Mulder? How embarrassing! “Why am I here?” asked Scully. The woman giggled. “Why, to be with me,” answered Melissa. Mulder interrupted. “She’s not real, Scully. You saw the transformation.” Scully didn’t reply. “You keep quiet,” Melissa barked at Mulder, “I’m going to play with Dana’s body & I strongly suggest you watch!” Scully was always so logical, do dedicated to just the facts. Right now though, a part of her wanted to just let go & believe that it was Melissa. The re-awakened feelings of how she had felt about Melissa, coupled with being bound naked in front of her, made her want to believe. She was no longer embarrassed about her nudity as she had been. Mulder could only assume that the aliens had done some kind of brain scan on them, thus able to know secret desires & emotions they held inside, even be able to recreate images from these memories. The other alien stood next to Mulder, still in alien form. Melissa gave agent Scully another warm smile, held up her hands to show off her nails, & bent down to Scully’s ear. “I love you,” she whispered. Then she rose up, walked down to Scully’s feet, disappearing from Scully’s view. Mulder watched in amazement & utter surprise as he watched Melissa lower her extended index finger down to agent Scully’s left foot. He knew what was to happen now. As her fingernail connected to the sole of her foot, Scully’s eyes widened again. “Mulder,” she asked hastily, w-what is she doing?” Scully had a pretty good idea, but asked anyway. “She’s tickling your foot, Scully.” As those words left Mulder’s tongue, Scully tried to move her feet away from Melissa, only to be reminded of her strict bonds. Melissa ran her finger slowly but methodically up & down Scully’s sole. This couldn’t be! How could this be happening? Scully was extremely ticklish, so very helpless. She made it a point never to tell agent Mulder just how ticklish she was. Just a few seconds went by before Scully giggled aloud. It was obvious that Melissa had full access to her feet. It would be impossible not to laugh. Why fight it? she thought. Melissa moved between Scully’s spread legs & using both hands, ran her nails up & down both of Scully’s soles. “Time to laugh, Dana,” taunted Melissa. Scully giggled like a child for 2 to 3 more seconds & then exploded out of the giggling stage & erupted into laughter. “Eeeeeeh! Ha ha ha ha he he haaaaaaa. Oh God! Help! Ha ha ha ahaaa!” Melissa didn’t let up. Quickly it became obvious that the arches of her feet just below the ball joint were highly sensitive. She worked her tickling fingers just on Scully’s arches. “Aaaaahh ha ha ha he hee ha,” laughed Scully. Melissa talked as she attacked. “Guess what Dana? I can see in between your toes.” Scully was aware that her toes were held apart. “Tickle tickle tickleeeetickle, my Dana.” Scully’s laughter heightened. “Aaaaaaaah ha ha ha ha! Nooo! Pleeeeze! Ha hahahaha ha. N-not there! Hee he haa ha hhaaaaaaaaha ha ha.” Melissa was smiling with pleasure as she had her way with Scully’s gorgeous feet. She raked her soles effectively for minutes. Mulder never took his eyes off them. Amidst the screams & laughter he thought about what was happening. Did they bring us here to tickle us, he thought? What can they learn from this? He turned to look at the alien beside him, thus taking his attention away from Scully. Instantly the alien near him transformed into agent Scully & she grabbed his sides & lower ribs smilingly & tickled heavily. She wore the same outfit as Melissa. Talk about not warming up! Mulder exploded with laughter, as his ribs were so very accessible & exposed. His head thrashed from side to side as he tried to escape the tickling, but Scully’s soft, beautiful hands & fingers worked his torso effectively. “Stop it! No! Ha haah ah ahahaaah ha ha hee h! No! No! Ha ha haaaa heeeeeeeeehhhhaaaah!” Amidst his tickle torture he noticed Melissa walk away from Scully’s feet over to her slender torso. He focused on that for just a moment & then his tickling stopped. With a grin on his face from the tickling he kept his eyes firmly on Scully, the real Scully. He had a theory formed already, & even though it was going to tickle, he had to test it out. He looked away from agent Scully & up to the ceiling. Instantly the alien Scully vibrated her fingers over his underarms. He burst out again. “Haaaaaa ha haha ha heeeeeeeyaaaaa! He he he he haahaaahahahaha” It tickled insanely. His underarms had always been a weak spot. His theory had worked however. He realized that every time he didn’t watch Scully get tickled, then he was tickled mercilessly. The trouble now was focusing back on Scully so that his tickling would stop. It was easier said than done. Scully was tickling him wildly while staring him right in the eyes. Her red hair laying softly around her face, her smiling face. The mind probe must have discovered his lusts for agent Scully, thus creating her image as his tickler. He too in a strange way enjoyed it, because it was Scully, but the sensations were to much, to torturous. As he laughed uncontrollably, he forced his eyes back on the real agent Scully for what seemed an eternity before the tickling stopped. He whimpered & giggled, but didn’t dare look anywhere but a agent Scully’s beautiful body. The thought of even another 5 seconds of that kind of tickling sent a strange kind of delightful fear through his body. “I hope you enjoyed me paying your feet a visit Dana,” asked Melissa. Mush to Mulders surprise, agent Scully did not answer her. He was sure that most people in Scully’s predicament would take this opportunity to beg. Scully didn’t. Why? Could she have actually liked it? “Your underarms look so soft, Dana,” teased Melissa as she began her attack. Even before her fingers made contact Scully screamed & laughed. “Noooooooo! Aaaaaah! Ha ha ahahah ha ha hahheeeeee!” Then as agent Scully physically realized the fingers made contact, her laughter skyrocketed. “Eeeeeeeeeeh! NOOOO! Haaaaaa ha ha ha ha haaa haaa! Mulder? Help! Ha ha haaahahahahahhaaaaaaah.” Melissa’s was somehow & expert tickler. She mercilessly & with a smile administered the tickling of a lifetime. “Laugh for me. Tickle tickle. Laugh harder,” said Melissa. “Steeeooooooooopppp! Aaaaaaaaahah haha ha ha aaaaaaaah! Not my pits! ahaaaaaaa! Please not there! Ha ha ha!” Scully’s eyes filled with tears of laughter, & they began to flow down her milky white face. Her lovely red hair became sticky wet in some areas. That’s more like it, thought Mulder. Now whe is begging. Had she always been so ticklish? Mulder was glad it wasn’t him. He had a choice, at least for now. In a strange sort of way though, he took delight in seeing Scully tickled. He wanted to tell Melissa where to tickle next, & for how long. This made him think about how he never really saw agent Scully smile much. So this…this was wild. She was nothing but one big smile now. The sounds coming out of her mouth were so unlike her. He kind of found pleasure in seeing her turned into a helpless child, unable to control or analyze the situation. Yes, all she could do was laugh, just laugh & try to deal with it. Upon staring at her he noticed her nipples were aroused. Does extreme tickling cause that reaction, he thought? At that moment the Scully standing next to him, transformed into him. He stared at himself in amazement, being careful not to take his attention off of Scully’s tickling session. He watched himself approach agent Scully & began to assist Melissa. While Melissa continued her relentless attack on Scully’s under arms & upper ribs, Mulder began to dig into her lower sides, just above the hip bones. The kind of laughter that escaped agent Scully’s lungs was indescribable. To be utterly unable to move & be tickled simultaneously by perfect ticklers, was unbearable. But how could it be termed unbearable when she was about to bear it? “NOOOOOOOOOO! AHHH HAHA HAA HAHH! HEEEH HEH HAH HEH AHAA! NO NONONNNONOO! AAAAA HA AAAAAHA AAAAAAHAA AAA AAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Deep throaty laughter passed through her beautiful lips. She could see that Mulder was one of the ticklers. She remotely wondered if it was the real Mulder. The real Mulder wished that it was. He realized Scully was not being hurt, & every ounce of his being wished that he could be in control of her helpless white body & administer tickle after tickle after tickle. He desired to totally control her emotions with even the lightest touches. He concentrated on her laughter. It was beauty to his ears. “AH AH AAAHA AH A HAAAAA!” The 2 aliens showed no signs of letting up. Melissa placed one of her hands on Scully’s knees & squeezed repeatedly, while vibrating her fingers across her ribcage wildly. She counted ever rib out loud many times over. Scully’s ribs were easy to get to. She had little fat on her body. Mulder had kneeled down under Scully’s body & began tickling her lower back with torturous pinches, pokes & squeezes. Then he just grabbed her sides & wriggled his strong hands up & down her torso, from her pits to her hips, then back again. At that moment the restraints holding agent Scully’s head in place released. Now she could thrash her head around freely in laughter. “HEEEEEHAA HAHAAHAHAHA HAAAA! HA HA HA H AHAAAA HEEHAAAAH!N-NOOO! ST-STOP! HA HA HAAA HA HA HA! EEEEEEEEEH!AHHHH! HA HA HA! NOOOOOO! STOOOOOAAAAH AH AH A HAA HE HE HE AHAA HE HE HAAA HAAAEEEEEEE!” She had no idea the human body could register all of these feelings at once. Her mind was overloaded with messages from hundreds of nerves saying 'we’re being tickled! this tickles! Make it stop! We can’t get away!’ She glanced quickly now & then at Mulder, but was unable to lock her eyes on him for more than half a second. Melissa was now tickling her inner thighs hard. Scully’s entire body was dripping with sweat, glistening in the bright lights of this tickle haven in the sky. Her face flushed with shades of red. A permanent smile owned her face, her eyes screamed out for help or mercy, anything! The aliens continued tickling for hours. They covered her body many times over, including another raking of Scully’s soles that lasted for about thirty minutes. “AHHHHHH! HA HANOOOO-AHHHAHHAH HA HA HA STOOOAAAAH HA HAHA HA! NO NO NO! HA HAAA HEE HEEE PLEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! HA HA HA HAAA HEEE HAHA HA!” By the end of the second foot tickling, every hair on Scully’s head was drenched with moisture. Much to Mulders surprise, Scully never lost consciousness. Her chest heaved with laughter as she gasped for words. Mulder was never tickled again. He began to assume that the aliens wanted to find out 2 things. 1, the physical & emotional reaction to extreme tickling. 2, the reaction of someone of the same species who is watching it. He found it interesting that they took the forms of people that were sexually associated with agent Scully. Evidently they had a reason to suspect that tickle sensations & sexual excitement are very much intertwined. He listened & watched as agent Scully played her oscar winning role in the experiment. He observed agent Scully reach sexual heights at least seven times. Her moans quickly turned back into screams, however, as she seemed to become even more ticklish after each one. “HAAA OOOHHHHHHH AH AH HAAAAA HA OOOOOOHHHHH HA AAAAAHA HA HA HAANO NO! STOP! HAAAAA HA HEE HE HE HEEE N-NO MORE! HA HAAAAHA HA HA AA” Mulder & Scully awoke in the corn field. The sun was rising. They were wearing their clothes. The camera lay at agent Scully’s side. Mulder quickly checked his watch. 7 hours had passed. It was real. They had been abducted by aliens & used as test subjects. They looked at each other, both with embarrassment from what they had seen of each other. “What do ya say we keep this between ourselves?” Mulder asked. Scully smiled, giggled & agreed. They stood up, looked around, & walked back to the car. THE END

Cresco Amor: Chapter 2

Author: @hips-bef0re-hands Timeline: Season 6 Rating: PG-13 (for now) Summary: How I think the ‘ship came to be You can read part one here

December 25th 1998 12:30am

“Maybe I did want to be out there with you

“I know we said we weren’t going to exchange gifts…but uh, I got you a little something” “Mulder…”

“Merry Christmas”

“Well I got you a little something too”

The two agents rushed excitedly to Mulder’s couch and began to open their gifts. Mulder tore the wrapping off his with the enthusiasm of a child, letting scraps of the paper fall to the floor. Scully was more careful, using her thumbnail to break the seal of tape with surgical precision.

Mulder arrived at his gift first, a small, leather bound notebook. Inside the front page, in Scully’s perfect scrawl was a message.

M,

I can’t wait to read the first book by The Fox Mulder; there is nobody I would rather find all the answers with.

Love,  

- S

He looked up from the message at his partner.

“For when you decide to get out of the car”, she said. He remembered their conversation only weeks before.

“Thank you, Scully.”

The two stared at one another for only slightly longer than necessary before Mulder glanced down at the package still resting in Scully’s lap. He raised his eyebrows in encouragement for her to open it.

She broke eye contact and began to meticulously remove its packaging.

She wasn’t sure what the item was as she slid it out of a cylindrical velvet sleeve. It was beautiful, some sort of wooden box with gold leafing around the edges and a rose inlay along the top. She popped the latch and the box opened. It was a jewelry box, a beautiful antique jewelry box just big enough for a few small items. The box began to play a soft tune and she realized it was also a music box. She cradled the item delicately, running her fingers along the roses.

“I got it the last time I was at the Vineyard,” he said quietly. “It caught my eye. It made me think of you.

“Mulder, it’s... beautiful.”

“Must have been why it made me think of you.

She looked up at him quickly, their eyes meeting, and he realized he might have said too much. He looked down at his lap.

It is true, he had picked the jewelry box up the last time that he was on the vineyard visiting his mother but it had been years ago, after Scully was diagnosed with Cancer. He had wanted to give it to her as a gift at the time, but the perfect moment never arrived, that or else he had never seized it. Once her cancer had gone into remission, the gift seemed trivial, too small and not important enough for the magnitude of the event. He had placed the box away only thinking about it again recently when they were on a particularly grueling case in November and Scully had asked him to hold her gold cross necklace in his wallet for safe keeping. The way he had unceremoniously crumpled the gold chain and zipped it into a secure pocket didn’t seem right to him, and he had remembered the box, just in time for Christmas.

He was brought back into the moment by the feeling of a soft hand against his.

“Thank you, Mulder. This is perfect.”

“Yeah” he shrugged, “I figured it was better than a keychain or coffee mug.”

Scully turned to him and put her other hand on top of his hands as well.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

He squeezed her hands gently. “You too, Scully.”

Scully turned to the TV where ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ was just beginning.

“This movie was always my parents’ favorite” Mulder said.

“Mine too,” she said with a yawn. “It’s late. I better get home and get some sleep. 3 kids under the age of 10 on Christmas morning, I’m going to need my stamina.”

xxx

February 16th 1999

6:36pm

He eased Scully onto the couch as reached for the pillows propping them up along the armrest for her to lounge back upon.

“Mulder, really, I’m fine” she said, slightly annoyed.

“You know, Scully, I could die a happy man if I never heard those words again.”

She looked at him, giving him a pinched smile. She winced as she let her head lay back on the pillows, feeling the fresh, cool cotton against her neck. It was good to be home. It had been two weeks since her incident in New York. That’s what they had been calling it, an” incident”.

She had spent 5 days in intensive care after having part of her small bowel removed, received 4 units of blood, 7 days of tube feedings, and one apology letter from the FBI. Mulder had taken it off her hospital table and thrown it into the trash once he had seen it. ‘Sonofabitch’ he had muttered tossing the balled up paper into the basket. He had not left her side since he arrived from DC.

“So what should we have for dinner? Your mom stocked the freezer full of soups and stews. The doctors say that you can ease back into normal foods but to start slow, you may feel nauseated or have cramping after heavy meals. We should avoid greasy things so pizza is out…”

“Mulder, I already eased my way into eating. 3 days of clears,” she shifted her butt “2 days of softs,” she lined up her back “…and I have been eating solids since Saturday night. Besides, I am a doctor incase you forgot. I will have a bowl of the tomato soup and I will whip up a couple grilled cheeses.” She tried to stand up.

Mulder was at her side easing her back to the couch “Tomato soup is highly acidic and…”

“Enough” she sighed. “Mulder, I really appreciate all you are doing but you need to back off.”

He was caught off guard by her anger and annoyance and sulked silently into the kitchen to make the sandwiches. He knew he had been breathing down her neck for days now. Maybe it was time to step aside. He knew Scully was more than capable of caring for herself.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned around to see Scully standing behind him gripping one of the kitchen chairs for support. 

“Scu…”

“Mulder, I know that you are trying to do what’s best for me. I appreciate it. I know that you feel like had you been with me that day, none of this would have happened.”

“It wouldn’t have,” he grumbled.

“Probably not. You and I have always shared a connection, one that I can’t imagine having with any other partner. I think we both feel an obligation to carry the other at times. But Mulder, this did happen, and its over, and I am fine.”

He knew she was right but he couldn’t help the eye roll and flippant huff at her choice of words.

Scully smiled. “Ok, I will be fine… but now, I am hungry.”

He back around towards the stove, giving up this round.

“One grilled cheese coming right up.”

xxx

“I was thinking that I will probably go home tonight, you know, give the boys a night off from watching my fish… that is unless you wanted me to stay.”

Mulder did not want to go home at all, but he had overheard Scully talking to her mom on the phone earlier about how she half expected him to move in to her apartment, she sounded annoyed. He decided he would let her think that going home was his idea.

“Yeah? Mulder that’s good, I will be f-…” she paused, “I will manage on my own. Actually it will be nice to sleep through the night without a nursing coming in to check 3am vitals for a change. Are you planning on going back to work tomorrow?”

“I’m off until next week. It’s ok, I’m sure they can investigate mishandlings of manure without us for a few more days.”

Mulder had taken two weeks vacation to help care for Scully. Scully did not want Maggie visiting her while she was in ICU and insisted on her waiting until she was transferred to the step down unit. She was scared that seeing her only surviving daughter hooked up to monitors with a tube coming out of her nose would be more than Maggie could bear. She had assured her mother that Mulder was watching over her and after a fair amount of push back, Maggie agreed. Maggie had spent three days in New York before returning to DC. She had offered to let Dana make her recovery at her Maryland home but Scully politely declined the invitation telling her mother she needed her own bed.

Scully planned to return to desk duty on Monday. Because she was injured in the line of duty, she did not have to put any of her vacation or sick time towards her recovery. Mulder however did. She inquired with the HR department about donating her vacation time to Mulder but was told it was against policy. She knew he would never use the time, and likely still had weeks left, but it felt like the right thing to do.

“Well, I could use a fresh change of clothes,” Scully said easing herself off the couch, and putting her plate on the coffee table. “Not to mention a nice, long, hot shower. The water pressure and temperature at the hospital is an actual sin.” She stood up and stretched, letting out a low moan as pain settled in her abdomen.

Mulder was at her side in seconds. She threw daggers at him with her eyes and he retreated.

“It is a shame that I can’t soak in the tub for a few more weeks. A bath is what I really need.”

“Well why don’t you head in there to get washed up, and I will clean up dinner.”

Scully accepted his offer with a nod and made her way to the bathroom.

Pulling out a plush towel from her hallway closet she buried her face into it. The soft smell of her fabric softener filled her nostrils. ‘My god this is so much better than the bleach smell of the hospital linens’ she thought wistfully. She walked into the bathroom turning on the faucet to the warmest setting and walked to the sink to brush her teeth while the shower warmed up.

Fog was just starting to fill the bathroom as she swished and spit the remainder of the toothpaste from her mouth. Her minty crest was so much better than the arm and hammer baking soda paste the hospital used.

Scully had never been hospitalized for that long before. Even after her abduction she was able to return home within a weeks time. She hoped to never have to do it again.

She sat on the lid of the toilet to remove her socks. She could feel the pain in her stomach begin to radiate as she bent over towards her feet. She had been off all narcotic pain relievers for a few days now but was considering taking one before bed tonight. She did not want her doctors to keep her any longer, or to upset Mulder, so she downplayed her pain significantly. After her socks were off, she stood to untie her drawstring pants and let them fall at her feet. She had not been wearing underwear due to the new hassle she faced removing them. She smiled to herself and inwardly thought ‘If Mulder had known he spent a week with me going commando, I would never hear the end of it.’

She reached down to the bottom hem of her long t-shirt and started to pull upward when an extremely sharp pain tore through her gut and traveled straight to her back.

“Damnit!” she hissed, louder than she intended.

“Scully?” She heard Mulder call from the kitchen.

“My God, what does he have super human hearing or something?” She muttered to nobody in particular.

“I’m OK Mulder, just some pain that’s all.”

“I told you you should have taken a Percocet,” he said from the other side of the door.

She rolled her eyes.

There was a long pause while she tried to fiddle with the shirt, lifting her arms, especially the left one, was causing a strain on the taut skin of her abdomen. She was afraid the skin, where the sutures had only been removed yesterday, would begin to separate.

On her third night in the step down unit a young nurse, Shannon had been taking care of her for the first time. “Mrs. Scully,” she said, “Because you are now considered stable and have a doctors order to be off the cardiac monitor for bathing, you are more than welcome to have your husband help you in the shower instead of our staff… if that makes you more comfortable.”

Mulder’s face broke out into a huge smile while Scully’s turned red as a cherry.

“That’s my FBI partner, Shannon. Its MISS Scully… just call me Dana.”

Shannon’s eyes widened and her hands flew up to her mouth. “Oh my God I am so sorry, I only assumed… My apologies sir,” she nodded towards Mulder “and to you, Dana.”

Being naturally independent, it was hard to have a nurse help her with daily tasks for the past couple of weeks, but she was beginning to realize how necessary it was.

She took a deep inhale and closed her eyes.

“Mulder, do you think you would be able to help me… get ready and get into the shower.”

“Of course, Scully.” He put his hand on the doorknob and began to turn it.

“Mulder, I’m half naked in here… give me a second.” She reached for the towel, which she had placed on the sink and haphazardly wrapped it around her waist. “Ok, I’m decent.”

Mulder walked into the steamy bathroom to see Scully standing with a towel covering her from the bellybutton down and a t-shirt bunched up under her breasts, exposing her scar.

“Here, let me help you with this.” Mulder said walking towards Scully. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so that he was facing her back, and she was facing the frosted window instead of the mirror. He took his hands and brought them up her back to the hem of her t-shirt while Scully secured the towel in place.

He slowly eased the t-shirt up over her torso then took her elbows and gently slid them through the sleeves without over extending her arms. All the while, he was reminding himself that Scully was sick and not to allow any specific part of him to become too excited by the task at hand.

Once the shirt was off, Mulder reached around the front of her to grab the shirt. The backside of his hand gently brushed over one of her hardened nipples and Scully inhaled sharply.

“Sorry, Scully” he whispered, cursing himself for not being more careful.

“It’s ok… I’m just a little cold that’s all” she lied; trying to explain her breasts’ aroused state.

It was about 100 degrees in the steamy bathroom and Mulder didn’t buy a second of her excuse, but dropped the matter for the sake of her ego.

He then took the shirt and held it open in front of him.

“Turn,” he said.

Scully did as he requested and was now standing totally naked, but covered in front of him. She looked up at him with her lips slightly parted and slightly breathless. She wasn’t sure if he was making her feel light headed or the steam from the shower.  

“Step back into the shower, wet your hair, and I will close my eyes and help you lather and rinse your hair. The doctor said you shouldn’t have your arms extended up over your head,” he reminded her.

“I can If I keep my elbows close to my body” she quipped back, proudly.

He shook his head. “Ok, but I’m going to be right outside that door. Call me when you are ready to dry off.”

xxx

After her shower, she felt like a new person, or at least like the one she used to be before this whole mess. She felt clean for the first time in weeks but pretty sleepy from the steam of the shower. She anticipated feeling a lot better by morning. She took the bottle of pain medicine from the medicine cabinet and popped one pill.

Mulder came back into the bathroom with his hand over his eyes, making her chuckle. They had each seen one another naked, usually in times like this, when someone was sick or injured, but she was amused and quite thankful by his attempts at preserving her dignity.

She wrapped her body in the towel after applying an antiseptic cream to the fresh scar on her abdomen.

“Ok” she said, and he removed his hand from his eyes. “I think if you could just help me with my hair I can manage the rest.”

Mulder took the smaller towel that was hanging on a rack and began to gently dry her hair. Then, he picked up the brush on the ledge of the window and began to brush the strands into straight pieces.

Scully looked up at their reflection in the mirror, which was becoming less foggy now that the shower was off. Their eyes met and Scully smiled lazily at him

“Mulder, I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you yet… for taking care of me like this. I really appreciate it. I owe you...”

“You don’t have to thank me, Scully… and you owe me nothing.”

“I’m really lucky to have you.”

“Likewise” he said putting the brush down on the sink and running his fingers through her hair one last time. “All done.”

Mulder walked out of the bathroom while Scully put on a pair of satin sleep shorts and a button up shirt, which would be much easier to remove in the morning than a pullover.

She walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where Mulder was putting away the dishes from dinner.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” he asked, hoping she would ask him to.

“Mulder, go home, I’m going to be ok.”

He walked up to her and kissed her forehead along her hairline.

“No doubt in my mind, partner.”

He grabbed his duffel bag and walked out the door. Scully was left standing in the foyer feeling a little woozy. She didn’t think that it was from the pain medicine.

Feedback is always appreciated :)

- Jen

Quest Updated: RP Hunt

Name: Dana;; if you’re more keen on nicknames Parsnips works too.

Age: 22

Timezone: Pacific Time

About Me:

About me? I’m just a day dreaming college student with a deep love for writing, an enduring interest in videogame lore and a penchant for wanting to play too many characters at once. I’m a pretty busy bee with a hefty course load, but I try to make time for replies every other day or so- sometimes more sometimes less depending on the length of the post. Immersing myself in adventure and fantasy more or less keeps me from drowning in stress so I make time for it often. I’m usually even more speedy with out of character replies, and I do love to chat with roleplay partners when they’re up for it. Should you feel nervous to ask for something, I’d offer the following advice; I’m probably more scared of you than you are of me so go for it.

Fandoms or Originals:

For this particular hunt I’m looking for fandom related roleplays—I do original High-fantasy and scifi as well, but at the moment I’m craving fandom more.

Let’s talk BIOWARE.

I’m big on Dragon Age, and I’m caught up all the way through Trespasser. To be honest, people’s Dragon Age OCs are like, my favorite thing. I am a certified lover of OCs for this setting so come at me with your wonderful characters. In fact, I’m open to an all OC cast if that sounds good to you (I have several OCS in mind, mainly Dalish Elves and Tal-Vahsoth but I do have others as well. In the interest of not making this too lengthy, I’ll just say you should ask if you’re interested). I do enjoy canon characters too! I’m open to suggestions of who you’d like me to play and I’m certainly willing to consider canonxoc pairings, depending on the plot.

Some characters I especially enjoy playing: Hawke (Male or female), Anders, Cole , Isabella. I’m still getting the Hang of Solas, but he would be fun to write more. Oh! And Varric, I’d like to try my hand at him some time.

Characters I love to play against: Cassandra, Hawke (Particularly f!Hawke, but m!Hawke can be fun too) , Merrill, Dorian, Zevran.

Additionally, I’ve been playing through the Mass Effect games and while I’m not entirely finished, I’m absolutely enamored with the setting and I’d be thrilled to write for it. I’d be most comfortable with OCs but could be swayed to try out some canons. I’d be very interested in doing something outside of the game events- for example, something pre- ME1 like the First Contact War, but I’m open to other ideas as well. Basically, if you’re interested let me know and we can work on plot building.

What I’m Looking For:

-          Partners that are 18+. I’m not huge on explicit content but I’m just more comfortable interacting with other adults.

-          I’m a quality over quantity sort of person. My usual post length is around 4-5 paragraphs, and while I do sometimes get carried away and do lengthier posts I sort of prefer the slightly shorter format to keep things moving along, especially when the scene has dialogue. If you want to write more be my guest. Please, no less than a couple paragraphs though, one liner or chat style roleplays aren’t really my thing.

-          Be willing to plot with me, let's talk about our dorky characters! It honestly does so much to keep be interested in a roleplay when the other person is willing to do this. 

-          Romance is appreciated but not a requirement. Sometimes it’s nice to see how things evolve without forcing anything. That said, I’m totally open to characters of all gender identities and orientations, and will happily do m/f, m//, f//, or a number of other possible combinations.

-          A note about limits: I’m not down for PWP. It’a all about what the story calls for and what my partner is comfortable with. I’m not into just plain smut for its own sake but if the roleplay has some adult situations I’m ok with that.

  Contacts:

Skype: seasaltaddict

Email: [email protected]

Find me defenseless (Chapter 4)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer.  When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.  

Words: 2995, Chapters: 4/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Fox Mulder’s Hotel Room Des Moines, Iowa June 8 2327

A squad car pulls up outside the Motel 6 where Mulder had been staying. The tires have barely come to a stop when Scully wrenches the passenger door open, stalking toward Mulder's room. The shitty motel wall shakes with the force of the door slamming behind her.

"Get some rest, Agent Scully. You look like you're going to collapse," Skinner had said, not unkindly. "I'll have an officer drive you to Mulder's room and wait outside to take you back in a couple hours." She'd tried to protest, but he'd held up a hand, silencing her. "I'll make it an order if I have to, Agent," he'd warned. "Just go. Try to get some sleep. You're no use to Mulder if you're dead on your feet."

She'd wanted to protest, ask him when he'd last slept, why he wasn't 'getting some rest', but she'd bitten her tongue. He was her boss, and she wasn't going to win. Pick your battles, Dana.

Still, she was angry - at the officer in the car, for taking her away from the search, at Skinner, for being right, at her body, for betraying her and needing rest when Mulder was helpless at the hands of a serial killer. What was a day or so without sleep compared to what Mulder was probably suffering right now?

A haphazard stack of files in Scully's path, unnoticed by her, sends her sprawling to the floor, face landing in a suspicious stain on the carpet. She curses quietly to herself, nose wrinkling as she quickly pushes herself back up and crosses to the bed, which is as cluttered as the rest of the room. Mulder probably hadn't used it once.

She sighs; can't bring herself to care about scattering the files as she pushes them off and flops face down on the bed. The truth is, she is tired - she'd been in a near-constant state of hypervigilance and irritation since she'd arrived, and it was draining.

She's almost considering actually trying to get some sleep when her cell phone rings. The phone is in her hand before she consciously registers moving. "Agent Scully," she answers, breathless.

"Dana," a hauntingly familiar voice greets her from the other line. "It's lovely to hear your voice again."

Scully nearly trips in her haste to get through the door and out to the squad car, hissing, "it's the killer," and gesturing with the phone in her hand to the officer who had climbed out of the car to see what was wrong. The officer scrambles for her radio, calling into the station for a trace.

On the other end, the killer continues. "I feel like I know you. He always dodges my questions about him with a random fact about you. It'd be cute if he wasn't doing it to try to convince me I'm wrong about him. But I'm not dumb, no matter what he might think." The killer's disgust is clear in his tone. "I see right through him. It's actually kind of pathetic." Then his tone turns considering. "He begs for you, you know. When I'm hurting him. He begs you to save him. Do you want to hear?"

She really, really doesn't - but when she throws a questioning glance at the officer and the officer shakes her head, she knows she's going to have to. They need more time for the trace. "Don't hurt him," she threatens, steel in her voice that doesn't match her trembling body.

"Oh, Dana," the killer laughs, "it's a little late for that. But don't worry - I'll just give him a little cut, to get his attention. He's pretty out of it right now." Scully can hear muffled shuffling as the killer moves around, then, "Fox, I have your partner on the phone. Can you say something to her for me?" A pause, followed by a sharp hiss. "Dana," the killer addresses her again, "would you say something to Fox? It might help him to hear your voice."

"Mulder, can you hear me?" Scully says, not allowing her voice to tremble. "Mulder, I'm coming to get you, okay? Just hold on for me."

"S-scully?" A whimper comes over the line. "Scully, please, help me! I'm so scared!" Mulder's voice is desperate, and Scully feels tears gather unbidden in the corners of her eyes. She can’t stand the image of him that comes to mind - alone, hurting, terrified out of his mind.

The killer's voice returns. "See what I mean? Pathetic." The sound of a wet smack and another whimper from Mulder greets Scully from the receiver.

Scully slams her fist against the squad car, trembling. "Damn you! I'm going to kill you!"

"You're welcome to try, Dana." The killer sounds amused. "But you'll have to find me first."

Click.

"Damn it!" Scully whirls around, addressing the officer. "Did we get the trace?" At her nod, Scully all but pushes her into the driver's seat and rounds the car to climb into the opposite side. They tear out of the parking lot before Scully's door is fully shut.

Scully clenches her fists, using all of her restraint to resist telling the officer to go faster. They're already going 20 over the speed limit. Hold on, Mulder, she thinks. I'm coming for you.

-

Brady Hoover’s House 41.4544508, -93.7130393 (A.K.A. Bumfuck, Nowhere) June 8 2332

Brady Hoover hangs the phone up on the wall, crossing the room to where Mulder hangs, suspended inelegantly from the ceiling by two chains, manacles rubbing his wrists raw. "Your partner will be here soon," Brady says simply. "We don't have much time left." Mulder bites back a whimper as Brady brushes the skin of his arm, reaching up to roll the drip on the IV wide open.

Sometime during day two, Mulder had managed to escape from the chair. He's not sure, now, how he did it, but he wishes he hadn't. His head still hurts where Brady hit him with the bat, and he's had enough cracked ribs to know what the sharp pains he gets when he dares to breathe mean. But that wasn't the worst of it - Brady had also hooked him up to an IV that kept him in a constant state of panic and made even the slightest touch agony.

He doesn't feel the effects of the opened drip right away. Emboldened by the knowledge that Scully's on her way, Mulder spits in his captors face.

Brady's expression shifts to fury as he wipes away the saliva and delivers a swift blow to Mulder's stomach. "You're going to regret that, you little brat." Mulder's heart begins to race as Brady turns away, pulling a cart up from out of his field of vision. The cart has a bucket of water on it, in addition to a few electrical instruments and several blades, long and short.

It’s less of a selection than he usually brings, Mulder thinks to himself absently as Brady approaches, a smirk creeping across the killer’s face. Mulder’s pupils dilate, muscles clenching and heart pounding so hard he wonders how it hasn’t beat its way out of his chest yet. Panic threatens to overwhelm him. Fuckfuckfuck, please get here soon, Scully.

With the last of his composure, he chokes out, “Scully is gonna kill you.”

Brady chuckles humorlessly. “I know. In fact, I’m counting on it - but she’ll watch you die first. Now,” he indicates the door at the top of the basement stairs, “we only have about twenty minutes until your partner busts in here, and I still plan to have plenty of fun with you. Let’s get started, shall we?” He selects a short knife, holding it up to the light as if to inspect it. The blade gleams ominously.

Mulder’s vision is blurry as he watches the knife find a home on the skin over his breastbone. He forgets to breathe as his world narrows to the sharp, burning path the blade slices down his front. The cut is shallow, barely bleeds, but to Mulder it’s agony. A scream tears its way out of his already raw throat and he chokes on a sob.

Worldlessly, Brady drags the blade across the planes of Mulder’s chest, back, thighs -- painting him with anguish and savoring his broken cries.

Mulder is pure sensation. Pain dances down his back, up his thigh, burns across his shoulders and curves over his ribs. Eventually, he feels something slick, dripping down his skin, and the pain changes. It starts with a point; a tingle that spreads and rapidly builds into a crushing, stabbing pain, his muscles jumping with the force of it. It comes again and again and again and he forgets what it was like to feel anything else. He has never known anything but this.

To Hoover, this is bliss, this is relief. Someone is finally paying for what his best friend had done to him. He can feel weight lift off his shoulders with each cut, each scream making his heart sing. The electricity brings a new pleasure; the body beneath him dances and gasps, soaked in its own juices. Each shock breathes life into his soul and he forgets what being broken feels like. He will never know a greater joy.

-

Just Outside Brady Hoover’s House Bumfuck, Nowhere June 8 2350

Scully and the officer screech up outside the house in a cloud of dust, lights and sirens blaring. Scully jumps out of the car, gun drawn, as soon as the tires have come to a stop, ready to charge straight into the jaws of death to get her partner back.

The officer dashes after her, grabbing her arm. “Agent Scully, wait! We don’t have any backup. For all we know, we could be walking right into a trap. It’d be suicide.”

“He’s my partner. I’m going in.” Scully wrenches her arm away, watching with satisfaction as the officer stumbles back.

But the officer doesn’t back down. “Agent Scully,” she grabs her arm again, shaking her, “Dana, it’s going to be a shitshow in there. If we go in without backup, we could get killed. We could get your partner killed.”

Three years ago, Scully would’ve agreed with her. Three years ago, she would’ve played it by the book and waited faithfully for backup. Three years ago, she would’ve let him die.

But three years ago, she hadn’t met Fox Mulder; hadn’t spent late nights on the road with him driving to the middle of nowhere, hunted ghosts and shapeshifters and aliens and cannibals at his side. Hadn’t learned to be fond of the way he cracks sunflower seeds at all hours, or how he can’t sit still for five minutes, or how he could go on for hours about everything and nothing. Hadn’t known what it was like to follow someone to hell and back thirty times over, crawling out side-by-side, beaten and bloody but still alive.

How could she not follow him into the dark one more time?

Resolute, Scully wrenches her arm out of the officer’s grip again. “You don’t understand,” she says, looking the officer in the eyes. “He’s my partner. I’m not leaving him in there for one more second.”

Something that might be understanding flickers in the officer’s gaze. She nods at Scully, drawing her own weapon. “Okay. Let’s get your partner.”

The pair approaches the house side-by-side. The officer breaches the front door and the two work quickly to clear the house before finding the door to the basement. This door opens out, so Scully decides to try the knob before trying to kick it down; God must be smiling on her that day, because the knob turns easily and gives way to a set of cement stairs.

On the count of three, Scully and the officer charge down the stairs, speaking in unison, “FBI, freeze! Hands in the air!” “DMPD! Stay right where you are!”

The sight they’re met with when they reach the bottom stops them in their tracks. A blond-haired man, about 5’10’’, stands in front of Mulder, a cattle prod held loosely in one hand. Mulder hangs limply from chains attached to the ceiling, angry cuts and burn marks littering his body. His muscles twitch sporadically and his eyes are glazed over as if he is no longer present.

It seems to take the man a moment to register their presence, but once he does, the look in his eyes turns a little manic and he drops the cattle prod in favor of a knife. In a flash he has the tip pressed to Mulder’s thigh, right where Scully knows the femoral artery is. Mulder lets out a little gasp at the contact but otherwise doesn’t react.

“Don’t come any closer,” the man warns, drawing a pinprick of blood from Mulder’s leg. “I’ll kill him!”

Grip on her gun tightening, knuckles white, Scully counters, “Drop the knife, and I’ll consider not killing you.”

“Oh, but I want you to,” the killer says. Scully falters at this. What? “I’m going to kill your partner, and you’re going to kill me, and I’ll finally be at peace.”

The scream Mulder lets out when the killer plunges the knife into the soft flesh of his leg will haunt her for a long time.

Before she knows it she is squeezing the trigger - but all she gets is a click, telling her the clip is empty. What? I know I had a full clip when we got here… she looks down, seeing the crumpled form of the killer, a puddle of blood forming beneath him. There’s a bullet hole dead-center in his forehead, and she suspects that when an autopsy is done they’ll find the rest of her clip center-mass - but as far as she’s concerned, he got off easy. If the situation had permitted, she’s not sure she would’ve been able to prevent herself from beating the shit out of him - not entirely sure, for that matter, she would’ve wanted to.

But none of that matters now; he’s dead, and Mulder’s bleeding out.

Scully drops her gun -- barrel still smoking -- and rushes to Mulder’s side. “Help me get him down,” she demands of the officer, who rushes to comply.

Scully grabs Mulder around the waist, grunting with effort as she hoists him up as much as she can to ease the tension on the chains he’s suspended by. The manacles around Mulder’s wrists are secured firmly by padlocks, but the officer doesn’t waste time looking for the keys, choosing instead to shoot them off. Scully spares half a thought to be grateful for her quick thinking as the two of them work to get Mulder laid out on the floor.

With Mulder on his back, Scully gets a closer look at the damage to his leg - and breathes a sigh of relief. The knife hadn’t gone too deep, and by sheer dumb luck, the killer had managed to miss the femoral artery entirely.

Sometimes she thinks Fox Mulder might just be the luckiest unlucky son of a bitch in the world; his sister had been kidnapped when he was a kid, his mother had almost died, he frequently found himself at the heart of near-deadly government conspiracies - and yet, despite all of this, his would-be killer had somehow missed the artery he’d been perfectly poised to sever. He would’ve bled out in minutes, and there would’ve been very little Scully could do about it in such a remote location.

Scully pulls off her blazer, whispering hushed apologies to him as she presses it firmly around the hilt of the knife. He whimpers. She glances up, noticing his hitched sobs and the rapid beat of his heart visible through his chest. Her eyes search out the officer, jerking her chin toward Mulder’s leg and snapping, “hold pressure here. I need to check him for other injuries.”

The officer complies immediately, sure hands replacing Scully’s around the wound. “Backup and an ambulance are two minutes out,” she tells Scully, and sure enough, the sound of sirens blaring approaches rapidly.

Scully jerks her head up and down in acknowledgment, hands already probing Mulder for further injuries. She notes at least 10 long but superficial lacerations in various locations along his body in addition to several burn marks -- mostly electrical -- of varying degrees of severity, taking particular notice of the way even the slightest touch makes him gasp out in pain.

Finally, she locates the cause: an IV taped to Mulder’s arm. That explains heightened stress response and sensitivity to pain, she thinks to herself, reading the label on the now-empty bag.

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully says, discarding the bag and pulling Mulder’s head into her lap. She runs bloody fingers through his hair and silently curses his tormentor, wishing she could’ve put a couple more bullets into the man. Mulder whimpers, trying to pull away. “It’s okay, Mulder. You’re going to be okay,” she whispers to him.

He blinks up at her with unfocused eyes. “Scully?”

“It’s me, Mulder,” she assures him.

“Scully.” He closes his eyes, wincing but leaning into her touch all the same. “Hurts,” he gasps out.

“I know, sweetheart,” she says, pet name slipping out unnoticed as she strokes one hand, feather-light, through his hair. The other flutters around his forehead, face, chin - anywhere she can reach, trying to ground him without causing more pain. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.” His hands grasp at her slacks, shifting so he can bury his face in her stomach.

He cries.

He cries, pulling her impossibly closer, and Scully’s heart breaks. This has to be hurting him, she knows, but he’s so desperate for comfort that he’s willing to take the pain if it means he can be closer to her.

Tears slip out of her eyes unbidden as she whispers, “you’re safe now, Mulder. You’re mine, and I have you, and no one’s going to hurt you again.”

(chapter 5)

Find me defenseless (final chapter - UPDATED)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer.  When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.  

Words: 992, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Iowa Methodist Hospital

Des Moines, Iowa

June 9

1500

Mulder wakes to a soft snuffling, opening his eyes and turning his head to find Scully curled up in a chair pulled up beside his bed.

Every ache in Mulder’s body eases as he watches her sleep; her mouth is open -- drool pooling on the cushion her in a way he knows she hates but he secretly finds adorable -- and her cheeks are flushed a light pink, hands clutching a light blue blanket no doubt laid on her by a kind nurse.

What strikes him most in this moment, though, is how smooth her face looks, untroubled however briefly by the weight of the constant worry she has for him in consciousness. Mulder thinks that he could happily pass eternity watching her like this.

Recently it had seemed as if the wrinkles in her brow were being etched deeper with each passing day, and his guilt was mounting; she has so much concern for him, and for what? No one else had ever cared for him with such abandon, and if she ever leaves, he doubts anyone ever will again.

But it doesn’t matter. She cares for him, and that’s enough for now. He closes his eyes and lets the sound of her breathing lull him back to sleep.

-

Dana Scully’s Apartment

Georgetown, DC

June 10

1300

“No.” Scully’s voice is flat.

“But Scully --”

Mulder’s looking up her with an earnest, ‘I-just-want-to-make-you-happy’ look, and she’s endeared, really, but… “You’re injured, Mulder. I’m not letting you run me a bath.”

“Then come lay down,” he says, trying and failing to hide a wince as he scoots over to make room for her on the bed. “Please, Scully, you need to relax. I know the last time you slept was in that hospital chair, and those things are not comfortable.”

Scully sighs.

She is feeling a bit frazzled; getting back to DC had been a bit of an ordeal. Mulder had fought tooth and nail against being pushed around in a wheelchair, but he wouldn’t be allowed to walk on his injured leg for a couple of weeks and he couldn’t use crutches with the state of his ribs. Scully had eventually given him enough threatening looks that he behaved, reluctantly. The pout had remained in full force on his face until he eventually fell asleep on her shoulder on the flight back to DC.

(if she had pressed a kiss into his forehead and pulled him closer, and the old lady sitting next to them on the plane had given her a knowing look, no one had to know.)

She’d briefly considered trying to sleep on the couch, but there was no way she was letting him out of her sight for the foreseeable future.

“Fine,” she acquiesces, sliding in next to him under the sheets. Mulder immediately wraps his arms around her middle, resting his head on her chest.

She makes a noise of protest, but makes no real attempt to push him off; having him in her arms -- warm, safe, alive -- is comforting, and she feels herself relax as she listens to his steady breaths. She vows to herself that she will keep him safe like this for as long as she can.

What could be hours or minutes later, Mulder whispers, “Scully? Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Mulder, I will always come for you,” Scully answers, gazing down at him as her fingers stroke through his hair.

“I know,” Mulder agrees quietly, refusing to meet her eye. “But you don’t have to. No one else would. I don’t deserve it.”

“Mulder.” Her hand freezes. “Mulder, listen to me. If I could, I would personally hunt down everyone who’s ever made you feel like that and kick their asses. I hate that you’ve been treated so badly.” She forces him to meet her gaze. “As long as I’m alive, I will always come for you, and you will always deserve it. No matter what you’ve done.” He closes his eyes as if in pain, and she knows he isn’t ready to hear the words - but knows, too, that he needs to hear them all the same.

His breath hitches as he whispers his confession into her breast. “I love you, Scully.”

She rubs his back, pressing a kiss into his hair. “I love you too, Mulder. I always will.”

-

Excerpt from case report number [REDACTED]

Reporting Agent: Scully, Dana

Case Status: Closed

The motivation required to snuff out an innocent human life will always elude me. Brady Hoover had seven victims, none of which had done him any wrong, or beside Agent Mulder presented him any threat. Yet he tortured and killed them brutally.

What creates this evil, this brutality, in a person? Is it nature or nurture? Was Hoover doomed from birth to become a killer, or did his specific circumstances cause him to grow into one? Science has yet to offer us definitive answers.

Information provided by Agent Mulder about the killer, however, has shed some light on this specific case: it seems that Brady Hoover was attempting to find in his victims a surrogate for his childhood friend, a Matthew Ross. Hoover had followed Ross first into the military and later into a police force, but due to subpar performance had been passed over for promotion multiple times in favor of Ross. These were perceived by Hoover as personal sleights on Ross’ part, leading to a bitter resentment of his friend.

It’s unclear what triggered this resentment to become homicidal rage; perhaps his friend received another promotion, or perhaps it was a natural progression given Hoover’s mental state. We have no way of knowing now that he’s deceased.

The use of force, however, was undoubtedly necessary. The threat Hoover presented to Agent Mulder - and society at large, if unapprehended - was clear and immediate. I do not regret my actions and would repeat them given the same circumstances.

Find me defenseless (Chapter 2)

(chapter 1, chapter 3)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer.  When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.  

Words: 1200, Chapters: 3/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut! 

Motel 6 Des Moines, Iowa 48 hours earlier

If an outsider were to see the state of Mulder’s motel room, combined with that of the man himself, they’d probably have him committed.

The darkened room, bathed only in the light from the lamp on the desk, is covered floor-to-ceiling in crime scene photos, scattered notes, and case files. Mulder sits hunched over the desk, writing frantically on a scrap of paper as if the words are being forced out of him.

What’s my motivation? Mulder wonders. My targets have all been young men with histories of military service and/or law enforcement experience. Do I have authority issues? Did my father serve in the military and abuse me? He discards the last thought. No, my victims are too young. Maybe I have a sibling in the military that daddy likes more than me, or I served and got passed over for a promotion by some hotshot who thought he was better than me.

Yeah, that could be it.

But all of my victims have all had different hair and eye colors. Been different heights and weights. Served in different branches of the military or worked for different police departments. How am I choosing them? And why am I escalating?

I held my first victim for more than a week - took my time with him, really let myself enjoy it; took weeks to cool off between him and my second victim… but I’ve had 4 new victims in the last 3 weeks. I only held the latest for 48 hours. I started out slow, just like I always do, but I ended up beating him to death. Why?

Mulder looks at the crime scene photos of the latest victim. Richard Miller had been savagely beaten; there wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t bruised or broken, and his face had been so caved in they couldn’t get dental records. Identifying him had been nearly impossible.

Okay, so I’m angry. No, not just angry - I’m furious, and it’s only getting worse with each victim. I’m looking for something in them, and whatever it is, I’m not finding it…

Oh.

I’m looking for a surrogate.

He could smack himself, it’s so obvious. It’s been right in front of his face this whole time!

Mulder reaches for the phone for a fresh sheet of paper with fingers he doesn’t notice are shaking. Time to translate this profile into something people can actually use.

He’s interrupted by a knock at the door. “Agent Mulder? It’s officer Brady Hoover.”

Mulder doesn’t recognize the name. He groans; he’s not in a state to see anyone, let alone some rookie he’ll probably scare the shit out of. “Coming,” he calls, taking a brief moment to try to at least straighten out his clothes before opening the door. “What brings you by, officer Hoover?” Mulder asks, trying to go for ‘comforting senior agent’ rather than ‘crazed man with a gun’.

The officer at the door looks young -- definitely a rookie, Mulder thinks to himself -- but makes an admirable attempt not to look shocked at Mulder’s disheveled appearance. “Um, the chief sent me. She thinks we have a line on the killer.”

Mulder perks up, instantly more alert. “I’ll grab my coat. Where is he?”

The kid hesitates as Mulder turns to grab his blazer. “Well, we’re not actually sure --”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” Mulder asks, ushering Hoover back so he can shut the door behind him.

The pair heads out to the patrol car the kid left running in front of the mote, climbing in. “Well, Chief Burns thinks we found his hideout, but he wasn’t there when we got there. She wants you to check it out and see if you can learn anything about him.”

“Perfect,” Mulder says as Hoover pulls the car out of the parking lot. “That should give me everything I need to finish my profile.”

“Already?” The kid looks surprised. “Wow, that was fast! What do you have so far?”

Mulder stares out the window at the passing blur of shadowy hedges on the roadside. “He’s a young white male, somewhere between twenty and thirty, probably of average build and intelligence. He'll have barely finished high school and quickly pursued a career in law enforcement or the military -- possibly both -- instead of higher education, feeling as though he deserves to have power over people.

“He feels as though he’s better than everyone else. People who know him would probably tell you he’s aggressive, arrogant, and easily provoked - liable to throw a punch over the smallest sleight and never forget that you’ve wronged him. They would not be surprised to learn that he’s a killer.

"His choice in victims tells me that he’s angry at some perceived injustice - maybe he got passed over for a promotion or fired because of a man whom his victims remind him of. This man is out of reach for him, though, and he’s trying to find a surrogate in these victims but none of them have been right; that’s why he’s escalating. He’ll continue to kill until either he finds the perfect surrogate -- which is unlikely -- or he’s caught.”

Silence reigns for a few minutes after Mulder finishes his profile. Then, seeming to find his words, the kid says simply, “wow, you seem to know a lot about this guy.”

“I’ve been profiling for a long time,” Mulder says grimly.

The kid nods. Mulder doesn’t notice the way his jaw clenches and his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

-

It doesn’t take them long to pull up outside of an average-looking one-story house.

Mulder frowns as Hoover parks, looking around. “Where is everybody? Even if it’s been cleared, there should be at least a couple of officers here to secure the scene.”

The kid shrugs. “The chief knew we were coming. She must’ve sent them home.” Hoover gets out of the car, crossing to the other side of the car to open Mulder’s door for him.

“Hmm,” Mulder says to himself, still frowning but getting out of the car nonetheless.

“Why don’t you head on in ahead of me,” the kid suggests from the trunk, where he’s rooting around for something.

Mulder nods, making it about halfway to the door before hearing the scuff of boots behind him and turning, expecting to see the kid jogging to catch up to him. Instead, he’s met with a police-issue flashlight to the temple; he crumples to the ground, motionless.

“That was easy.” Hoover smirks to himself, discarding the flashlight to haul Mulder over his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re heavy,” he grunts.

Hoover carries him into the house, then down the stairs into the basement, where he plops Mulder down on a metal restraint chair. He whistles quietly to himself, strapping Mulder into the chair before retrieving a nearby pair of scissors and cutting through Mulder’s clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. The discarded strips fall to the ground in an uncaring heap.

Hoover sets down the scissors and climbs the stairs, returning with a broom to sweep them up. They’re going to be here for a while; no reason to start with a mess, is there?

(chapter 3, chapter 4)