#im not sorry about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rants-about-opm · 2 years

Text

Let’s Talk About The Redraw...

I’m gonna throw my hat in the ring here, because I’m just as pissed as the next guy.

So, Murata rewrote the latest chapter to remove Saitama and Garou’s heart-to-heart and instead throw in god...

Fucking Oops.

Look at this!

I cannot understate how much this means for both of these characters and their growth thus far.

Garou up to this point has been doggedly determined to end up on top in this fight from the moment he chose his path several beat up heroes ago. And at long last hes met his match, and when forced to come to terms with the fact that he won’t achieve what hes been striving for, his resolve crumbles and into suicidal thoughts.

I want to stress that acting like his mental state is anything but alarming is disingenuous. We can argue back and forth about the intention of his words here, but as we see him in these panels, he isn’t just upset or sad, he’s actively accepted death and is merely awaiting it at the hands of Saitama.

That Saitama’s reaction in the redraw is changed from empathetic and concerned to downright undiscerning is a fucking tragedy.

Even before actively admitting that he’s waiting to be killed, Saitama is concerned about Garou, he’s hardly fighting back, he repeatedly tells him it’s time to stop, but now all of a sudden he couldnt care less? Garou is at his absolute lowest point, this is the make it or break it moment for helping this child, this teen, this barely-even-an-adult-man come to terms with himself and get better. Because that’s what this whole arc has been about, Garou’s rampage is an absolutely desperate cry for help from someone who doesn’t know how to use their words. Regardless of his abilities and his confidence in his own skill, this path he has taken is reckless and borders on self harm. In real life (something I’ve always praise ONE for abiding by the rules of when it comes to depictions of mental health in his works) Garou’s actions would be seen as blind violence from someone who is clearly not mentally well. Saitama’s interaction with him here is so important because it was always meant to be the other side of the coin, the flip side of what the heroes Garou has met so far have been. When all his violence has been approached in turn, Saitama is the blinding light in the tunnel, the hand stopping to reach out when no one else could think to.

So let’s discuss what this change says about Saitama.

Saitama who’s beginning to learn the importance of words, of being a hero in all your actions and reactions, not just in battle.

Saitama who not 5 or so chapters ago went running to check on his disciple and assure him of his worth.

Saitama who despite his occasional temper is known to those *In Canon and Meta* for offhandedly offering advice whether it’s appreciated or not.

What does it say about him that suddenly he’s ignoring this, his most desperate case of all, one I’d say is most similar in mentality to him? Because Saitama can be a little dense at times, but he is very intuitive about people’s mental states, because he himself suffers with the highs and lows of mental health, he keenly understands the mind and its workings, even if he doesn’t fully realize it. People don’t just flock to Saitama because of his power. Tatsumaki is powerful. Amai is powerful. What draws people to Saitama as opposed to them is his mentality, his advice, his blunt declaration of the truth and refusal to back down from what is truly right, regardless of whether or not it’s a comfortable truth. It’s why he stands apart from the rabble, and why he is the only one that could ever possibly stand up for Garou. Garou has been up against strength before. Strength does nothing but crush his resolve, seeing yet another unbeatable hero squash the ‘bad guy’ under foot. Words are how you get through to him. Giving voice to those thoughts he could never quite articulate, breaking down the walls of his bias and showing him the truth of what he’s been trying to tell himself all along; he wants to be a hero. A real one.

And you know what a real hero doesn’t do?

Beat down their suicidal opponent until they feel cornered enough to be tricked into the servitude of a cruel and malevolent being intent on using them for unknown personal gain.

It almost makes me wish the webcomic had been completed before the manga started. I feel like Murata’s influence has not been a particularly great one on this series, given his pension for focusing on the grand nature of the story rather than the more important yet minute details of the characters and their individual tales.

I really son’t understand what the intention for the story is going forward. The conclusion to this arc, a beautiful and heartfelt resolution to Garou’s story was handed to us on a silver platter, and now it’s been stripped down to bare bones and rotting flesh. I am angry about the redraw, so is everyone else, and it’s entirely deserved. Here’s to hoping Murata and ONE realize their mistake and drop the redraw before it’s too late. There is too much potential, too much resting on this single moment in the story for them to screw it up this bad.

On behalf of this abysmal rewrite, I am very sorry to everyone who has ever loved this series, been inspired by it, been helped by it (because I cannot understate the leaps and bounds to which my own mental health has been positively influenced by lessons I’ve learned from ONE’s works and I’m sure i’m not the only one).

We all deserve the original version.

#opm #one punch man #angry rant #garou #saitama #genos #ONE #yusuke murata #murata #webcomic #manga #anime #rants #rants about opm #long post #im not sorry about it

106 notes · View notes

lovesicks4pphic · 1 year

Text

Make Me Yours

Rating: E

Summary: Based on the prompt: Agent Scully likes to be spanked.

Read on AO3 here.

In many ways, Dana Scully knew that she was anything but stereotypical. Her chosen profession and rational, level-headed approach often raised eyebrows, with assumptions made about either her gender or her faith. Sometimes both.

Even after all these years, some of her peers were shocked upon discovering that the incredibly skilled ‘Doctor Scully’ they’d heard so much about was in fact a 5 foot 2 woman in a skirt and heels with a cross around her neck. Misogyny remained alive and well, it seemed.

When it came to her personal life, however, Scully knew she had a tendency to fall into a pattern. Eager to please, she sought out older men, men with authority, men whose attention she’d have to fight for, even becoming ‘the other woman’ for Daniel. It was a predictable, never-ending cycle of craving approval and craving rebellion.

Melissa had always joked about their shared ‘daddy issues’, although hers had manifested in a totally different way. Melissa’s free-spirited nature was worlds away from anything their stern military father could comprehend.

Whilst Melissa was always quite happy to joke about it, Scully found it more difficult to discuss. There was nothing wrong with her preferences, she had tried on many occasions to reassure herself of that, but she couldn’t shake the embarrassment, the feeling that she should want something different. There’s that famous Catholic guilt, she thought.

Unbeknownst to most, her need to please ran a little deeper. It took her a while to even admit it to herself, swallowing down the rush she felt whenever she imagined her partner gripping her wrists or forcing her to her knees in the throes of passion.

Melissa had eventually got it out of her after multiple glasses of wine when the topic of conversation turned to her boyfriend at the time, Ethan.

“I don’t get it, Dana.” Melissa had said. “I thought you two were happy.”

She should be happy, she thought. He was thoughtful and kind, the perfect man on paper, but there was something missing. Blame it on the alcohol, or the months of sexual frustration, but there was no stopping the words that fell out of Scully’s mouth.

“He’s not rough enough with me.” She blurted.

“Rough enough?”

Scully blushed but Melissa’s tone was more curious than judgemental.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “He’s a sweet guy but he’s too… nice.”

“Don’t you want someone who’s nice to you?” Melissa asked gently.

“I want someone who makes me feel alive.”

It was as much of an explanation as she could give. She could barely make sense of it herself.

Scully knew Mulder must have sensed it the moment she stepped into his office. His goddamn, world-renowned profiling skills probably spotted her submissive streak a mile off.

Now that they were together, at long last, she was even more convinced that it would come as no surprise to him. There was no hiding the flood of desire she experienced when he grabbed her hips and flipped her over without warning. Nor was there any denying the volume of her moans when he brought his lips close to her ear and told her how good she felt.

Curled up against him, sweaty and satiated, it seemed like the right moment for her confession.

“Mulder.” She started. Her voice was quiet, small, and she cursed herself for being so nervous. This was Mulder, Mulder, the last person on Earth who would judge her.

“Mm?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

His arm tensed around her and she quickly placed a hand on his chest to reassure him, looking up to meet his eyes.

“It’s nothing bad.”

He nodded, sagging slightly in relief.

“Anything, Scully. Shoot.”

Here goes nothing.

“You may have noticed that I enjoy it when you’re a bit… rougher… with me.”

Mulder chuckled and pulled her closer.

“I have, yes.”

“I was wondering if we- I mean if you- Could we try-.” Scully’s cheeks tinged pink as she struggled to find the words. “Sorry.”

Mulder stayed silent, giving her space to continue. They had mastered the art of unspoken communication over the years. A simple look was all the encouragement she needed.

“I want more. Of that.”

“You want me to be more dominant with you?”

Scully swallowed and nodded. The jolt of arousal she felt from the question alone was a good indication that yes, that’s exactly what she wanted.

She dropped her gaze, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest while she figured out how exactly to put it into words.

“In the past, men I’ve been with have tended to treat me like I’m made of glass.” She explained.

“Even Jerse?”

“I never- we didn’t sleep together.” She clarified quickly.

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “Sorry, continue.”

“Maybe it’s because people see me as reserved or uptight. Or maybe it’s just that they think they’ll break me because I’m smaller than them.”

She wrinkled her nose as if rejecting the notion and Mulder laughed.

“Well, you are pretty short.” He teased, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, before becoming more serious. “You could still kick their asses though. And mine.”

Scully smiled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, grateful for his ability to delicately balance light-hearted quips and sincere understanding.

“The way they treated me… I’ve always craved something more.” She said, returning to her original point. “You’re the first person who’s really picked up on that so I’ve been wanting to ask you for this… for more.”

Mulder nodded and Scully could see his jaw clench and unclench as he mulled over her proposition.

“What exactly are you asking for here, Scully?” His tone was thoughtful, not harsh in any way. “Do we need to discuss your limits? Should we have a safeword?”

Scully’s eyes widened. This clearly wasn’t his first rodeo. She tried not to think of him having this conversation with anyone else, instead choosing to focus on the fact that this was sounding like a yes.

Mulder must’ve interpreted her surprise differently as he rushed to clarify.

“I just mean- there’s a lot of options here and I don’t want to take things too far.” He explained. “I would hate to make you uncomfortable.”

Scully nodded. He was right, of course. The possibilities were endless and there was a chance she may not enjoy them all. With him though, she was open to anything. She wanted them to take this journey together.

“I trust you. I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.” She looked into his eyes so he could see the truth in them. She lifted her hand to his face, cupping his cheek, and her voice was barely more than a whisper when she spoke again. “I want you to take me, Mulder. To make me yours.”

“Jesus, Scully.”

He was watching her with such intensity, brushing his fingers over her cheekbones. She could sense the arousal taking hold of him, his mind running through a million scenarios.

“I want…” Scully continued quietly. “I want whatever you want. I want to please you.”

His lips quirked.

“I see.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, gently tugging it away from her teeth before releasing it. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you, Scully?”

Fuck.

“Yeah.” She breathed shakily.

His hand drifted slowly down her body, running over the curve of her hip.

“And what if you’re not?” He asked, voice growing husky. “Do you want me to punish you? Spank you?”

Scully whimpered. He was a little too good at this. She should’ve known. There had always been an undercurrent of passion and possessiveness beneath that playful exterior of his.

His fingers continued their movements, now tracing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she shivered. He had already made her come twice that evening, but she wanted him again, badly. Her body was alight with anticipation in a way she’d never felt before.

He leaned in, bringing his face closer to hers. All the while, his fingertips danced higher and higher, and she squirmed beneath him.

“Touch me.” She pleaded against his lips. He ignored her, deliberately avoiding the place she so desperately wanted him. As frustrating as it was to be taunted, it was only arousing her further. “Please.”

Her voice came out as a whine and he must’ve taken pity on her because his hand moved even higher and then his thumb brushed her clit and she moaned into his mouth.

He took his time playing with her, tracing his fingers over every inch of her before he finally, finally, dipped down to circle her entrance. She felt dizzy with need.

“Fuck, Scully.” Mulder groaned. “You’re soaked.”

“For you.” She breathed.

Their eyes met, his gaze dark and dangerous. In that moment, Scully knew that she had unlocked something powerful, that he was in this just as much as she was.

When he slid two fingers inside her, she gasped in relief. She arched her back to take him deeper, clawing at his bicep, and that was the end of his teasing.

He fucked her roughly, muttering filthy things in her ear until she was trembling and dripping down his hand, coming harder than she could ever remember.

That was definitely a yes.

It had been a whole week since their conversation, a whole week without exploring anything further. Scully had introduced a ‘no sex on company time’ rule back when they first got together and was now regretting it more than ever.

They had technically been on the clock 24/7, sleeping in separate motel rooms at night and trying their best to focus on the case during the day. Trying being the operative word. After the other night, all she could think about was him and what might happen the next time he got his hands on her.

They were back in DC but the case was still ongoing. Mulder was getting called out to locations across the city every night while Scully was stuck at the lab. There was no time for sleepovers and Scully was growing impatient.

It was a Friday morning when she finally snapped, her hand down her pajama pants after a particularly explicit dream about him, again. Fuck the rules.

A few hours later, she sat beside Mulder at the back of a conference room enduring yet another mind-numbing meeting about this stupid case that wasn’t even an X-File. He was stroking her thigh under the table, apparently just as bored and just as horny as her. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her skirt and she held her breath, waiting for his reaction when he discovered her little secret.

He reached where the edge of her underwear should be and froze. She dug her teeth into her bottom lip to hold back a moan. He turned in his seat and leaned into her, his stubble grazing her cheek and his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Where are your panties, Scully?”

His voice was low so that only she could hear and its huskiness sent a shiver down her spine.

“I didn’t feel like wearing any today.” She murmured against his skin.

The responding growl in the back of his throat had her throbbing. If she wasn’t already worried about there being a damp spot on her chair when she stood up, she definitely would be now.

When they returned to the basement, he walked over to his desk, sat down and began reading a file without saying a word. Scully frowned. That wouldn’t do. Not when she had just spent the last thirty minutes picturing him shoving her against the wall and fucking her until she couldn’t walk straight.

She knew what she had to do. It felt a little silly, another cliché to add to her collection, but if it paid off it would be more than worth it.

She positioned herself directly in his line of sight, not that he was even looking up right now, the asshole, and dropped the pen and notepad she was holding, letting them fall to the floor with a clatter.

Mulder’s head snapped up at the noise. Got him. She turned and bent over to pick up her items, knowing full well the show he was getting.

She heard his chair scrape and she quickly straightened up, adjusting her skirt, but she didn’t dare turn around. His footsteps drew closer until his breath was hot against her ear and his hands grasped her hips.

“Are you trying to kill me, Scully?”

She opened her mouth to speak but he gripped her harder and all that came out was a whimper.

“I want you to go home now.” He said. “I’ll be over in an hour. Don’t change. I want you wearing exactly this. Understood?”

Jesus. His authoritative tone almost made her knees buckle there and then. She nodded, her pulse thrumming, and he released her.

She grabbed her things and drove home on autopilot, tapping her fingers against the wheel as her mind raced. When she got home, she couldn’t sit still. She paced around her apartment, flicking her wrist every few minutes to check her watch. Her heart felt like it might beat out of her chest.

His knock made her jump and she rushed over to open the door.

“Mulder, hi.” Her voice was breathy.

Without saying a word, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and walked them to the bedroom. When they reached the foot of her bed, he let her go. She instantly missed his touch and shifted anxiously as he shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. God, he looked good.

He sat down at the edge of the mattress and locked eyes with her.

“Come here.”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she took a step towards him, maintaining eye contact as she lifted a knee to straddle him. He shook his head, pushing her knee back down. She frowned. Oh. Oh.

She crawled onto the bed beside him and bent over his lap, her torso pressed against his thighs and her knees and elbows supported on either side of him by the mattress.

He stroked her hip over the fabric of her pencil skirt.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his voice softer than when he last spoke.

“Yes.” She whispered.

It was more than okay. This was everything she had ever wanted. She could feel herself trembling, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She arched her back a little further, sticking her ass out for him in case her verbal confirmation wasn’t enough.

Armed with her consent, his hand slid lower, pushing her skirt up over her hips to expose her. It was a vulnerable position to be in but her arousal far outweighed her embarrassment. She dropped her head to her forearms, hair tickling her skin.

“You’re wet.” He stated.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been wet since I got dressed this morning.” She admitted quietly.

“Since you decided to come to work without any underwear on.”

“Yes.”

If he didn’t touch her soon, he might finally have some evidence of spontaneous human combustion.

“Even though you were the one who said we have to behave ourselves at work.” It was said as a statement but she knew he was looking for an answer.

The accusation in his voice really should’ve pissed her off but instead made her head spin with a feeling she couldn’t name. He squeezed her ass firmly and she suddenly remembered he was awaiting a reply.

“Yes.” She squeaked as he groped her.

“It feels like you were teasing me, Scully. That’s not very kind.” He said. “I thought you wanted to be good for me.”

“I do.” She insisted, just about reaching her breaking point. “Oh God, I do. Mulder, please.”

She wriggled her hips, trying to encourage him to touch her, to do something, anything, before she totally lost her mind.

He slapped her ass and she jumped, stilling immediately. It wasn’t hard at all but the shock of it was enough.

“Since this is new for you, Scully, I’m only going to spank you nine more times. Ten in total.” He explained carefully. “I want you to count them for me, starting with two. Can you do that?”

She nodded, lifting her ass higher for him. Fuck, she needed this. She was so fucking ready.

His hand came down against her, harder this time, more purposeful.

“Two.” She gasped.

Immediately, there was a third slap, which she counted aloud, breathless. Four and five were choked out around moans.

“This doesn’t feel like much of a punishment, Scully.” Mulder admonished. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

His patronizing tone went straight to her clit. She writhed around on his lap, seeking more contact. Her face flushed as she realized she could feel wetness trickling down her thigh.

“Don’t stop.” She panted. “Please.”

He spanked her again and she let out a strangled cry.

“Count, Scully.”

“Shit.” She let out a ragged breath. “Six.”

He hummed, pleased, and then struck her again. And again. By the ninth, her legs were shaking.

“One more, baby.”

She swallowed and nodded, the pet name making her all the more desperate to please him. As his palm met her ass for the final time, she moaned loudly.

“Ten.”

She didn’t even register the word leaving her lips, too focused on the stinging sensation, the way her whole body felt like a livewire.

“Good girl.” Mulder said, smoothing a hand over her ass, and she shivered at the praise. “You did so well.”

She knew her ass must be pink, her skin had always been sensitive, and she desperately wished she could see it. She hoped he would give it to her even harder next time. She wanted him to leave marks, evidence of his possession.

His hand slid down to her center and he ran two fingers through her wetness.

“All this because I spanked you.” He murmured. “Such a dirty girl.”

He brought his dripping fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth for him without hesitation, moaning around the digits.

“That’s it.” He praised, and then he was returning his hand to her entrance and pushing those same fingers deep inside her.

“Oh, God.” She groaned in satisfaction.

His thrusts gradually got faster and rougher and her eyes rolled back in her head. She could hear the squishing sound of the wetness between her legs with every stroke and it only turned her on more.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Mulder goaded. “You just couldn’t wait.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She panted, rocking her hips greedily. She was already so close.

She could feel his rock hard erection through their clothes, present since she had first lay down but getting more and more difficult to ignore as she ground against him. Fuck. She wanted to come with him inside her, it was all she’d thought about for a week. She told him as much, gasping out the words.

“I am inside you.” Mulder replied, thrusting his fingers harder for emphasis.

Scully whined.

“No- no- I want…”

He stilled.

“Say it, Scully.”

Even bent over his lap with him knuckle deep inside her, she felt a twinge of embarrassment about saying the word, but she knew he wouldn’t move again until she said it. She swallowed.

“Your cock.”

“Do you think you deserve it?” Mulder questioned, resuming his rhythm and curling his fingers inside her. “What if I want you to come like this?”

“Please, Mulder. I want your cock, I’ll be so good for you.” She was babbling now, past the point of caring. “Please, I need it.”

Mulder growled and slipped out of her.

“Stand up.”

She scrambled to her feet, chest heaving as he began unbuttoning her shirt. He quickly unzipped her skirt and unhooked her bra, kicking her feet to prompt her into taking off her heels. He made no effort to undress himself, other than taking off his own shoes, and there was something about being fully naked while he was still in his suit. If she wasn’t so desperate to come, she would drop to her knees and beg to take him down her throat.

“Get on the bed.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. She positioned herself on her hands and knees, hoping that’s what he was implying. She arched her spine and pressed her breasts into the mattress. Her nipples were so sensitive, even the brush of the sheets against them had her shuddering.

She felt the bed dip and then he was behind her, tracing his fingers down her spine and over her tattoo before grabbing her ass and pulling her cheeks apart ever so slightly. She knew he must be able to see the arousal leaking out of her.

“I can’t believe this is all for me.” His voice was quiet, sincere. “I’m so fucking lucky.”

“All for you.” She repeated in a whisper.

“Having you put your trust in me like this, Scully, knowing I’m fulfilling your deepest fantasies.” He swallowed thickly. “It’s so fucking sexy.”

He had started stroking her clit again, ever so gently, and she twitched, pushing her hips back against him.

“Please, Mulder.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Okay, baby. Okay.” He soothed.

She heard the buckle of his belt followed by his zipper and she clenched her thighs together. She didn’t know the sound of someone’s clothes could be so erotic.

Then he was there, nudging her legs apart and pressing against her entrance. He pushed inside her in a single stroke and they both gasped. Scully could feel herself spasming around him, the stretch of him exactly what she needed.

After giving her a moment to adjust, Mulder began to move. She pushed her ass back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and he groaned in approval.

“Fuck, that’s it, Scully. Just like that.” He gritted out. “You feel so fucking good.”

He gripped her hips as he started to speed up, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. She collapsed to her elbows. His cock was hitting her so deep over and over again and all she could do was lay there and take it while he pounded into her. It was perfect.

She ducked her head, bracing herself against his thrusts, and suddenly his fingers were threading through her hair and tugging. She jerked upright with a strangled cry but he caught her, his arm wrapping tightly around her waist.

“Oh fuck, oh God.” She chanted, his manhandling pushing her closer to the edge.

“You like that?” He asked, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Uh-huh.” She panted, unable to nod due to his firm grip.

“You’re taking my cock so well, Scully.” He muttered hotly. “Such a good girl for me.”

She moaned, clenching around him, and he covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the noise. He kissed her roughly, messily, and she felt a fresh wave of arousal course through her.

How did she go her whole life without this? She felt utterly consumed by him, his tongue in her mouth, his hand in her hair and his arm around her waist, holding her tight. Her mind was beginning to drift into a different space, one where all she could focus on was him and being his.

Before she could register what was happening, he was shoving her roughly back down with a firm hand between her shoulders, covering her body with his own. She turned her head to the side, fisting the sheets and gasping into the pillow as his hips slammed against hers.

He leaned back, his hands on her ass again and she heard a groan that meant he must be watching his cock slip in and out of her. The thought alone could’ve tipped her over the edge but then one of his hands slid beneath her body to find her clit and her legs began to quake.

“M-Mulder, fuck.” She choked out. “Don’t stop.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you, Scully?”

His other hand slid up her spine to grasp the back of her neck and hold her down more firmly.

“Yes.” She cried. “Yours.”

He swore under his breath and it was all she needed. Her whole body tensed and then she was coming with a shout, shuddering around him and dragging him over the edge too.

Neither of them moved at first, content just to bask in the afterglow. Eventually, Scully started mumbling about feeling cold and Mulder pressed a kiss to her shoulder before slipping out of her and maneuvering her under the covers.

“Be right back.” He whispered.

He returned a moment later with a glass of water.

“Here you go, honey.” He said gently, handing it to her. “Have some of this.”

She took a few grateful sips, not realizing how hoarse her throat had become until that moment. As she drank, he shed the rest of his clothes and slipped under the covers beside her. She placed the glass on the side table and shifted closer to him, tucking herself into his embrace with a content sigh.

“Thank you.” She said, referring to more than just the water.

“Was that the kind of thing you had in mind?”

He stroked her hair gently and the tenderness from the very same man who had just fucked her within an inch of her life made her heart swell in her chest. She couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Better.” She admitted, tilting her head to meet his gaze and giving him a soft smile.

He hummed and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

This. This was feeling alive.

#lovesicksapphic #my fic #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #txf #x files #x files fanfic #xf fanfic #this one is absolute filth #im not sorry about it

48 notes · View notes