#xf fan fic
Text
Stupid Cupid
Summary: When a work emergency prompts the FBI to call in their best and brightest on Valentine's Day evening, Mulder shows up in a tuxedo, prompting Scully to wonder what kind of hot date he had just abandoned.
Scully must quiet the jealous storm brewing within as the two work together to search for a little boy.
Scully soon finds all is not as it seems, and maybe this won't be the worst Valentine's Day, after all.
Word Count: 5,325 // Read on AO3
The shrill ring of a phone snapped Scully out of a dream she wished she could continue -- one that she’d been having more often lately involving a certain coworker and the olfactory overwhelm that happened whenever she got near him and inhaled the leather-y, salty, aftershave-y musk that was Fox Mulder.
Groggily fumbling the phone to her ear, she answered with a sleep-thick “Hello?” and grew increasingly alert as she heard an addled Skinner on the other line telling her about a kidnapping of a senator’s kid, how this was of utmost importance, top priority, how the bureau needed their top people on this and how he needed her to get down there ASAP.
It was clear he was surrounded by bustling agents peppering him with questions -- God, was it only 9:30 p.m. on a Friday? It felt so much later, but, then again, it didn’t really matter -- so she just responded in the affirmative and told her boss she’d be right there.
“Agent Scully, have you had anything to drink?” he asked.
“Uh...no, sir,” Scully said, eyes shifting to a half-full glass of chamomile tea on her coffee table. She assumed that was not the kind of beverage her boss was referring to.
“OK, great,” he said. “Please, hurry.”
He said to come as she was -- that everyone had. That time was of the essence.
When the line went dead, she stumbled into the bedroom so she could at least throw on a clean sweatshirt over her favorite New York Knicks t-shirt, which no longer smelled like its original owner but felt symbolic in the same way writing Brad McDonald’s name in her sixth grade social studies notebook over and over felt like it meant something.
She ran a toothbrush through her mouth, which felt filmy and dry in the way only falling asleep on the couch could do, and grabbed her bag, out the door and to her car before her thoughts could even catch up with her.
Cranking the ignition and speeding out of her parallel parking spot, Scully’s mind wandered to her partner and imagined him doing the same dance she was, although his insomniac tendencies -- and the fact that it was 9:30, Jesus Christ, she was lame -- meant he was at least probably awake when he got the call.
As she drove in silence, Scully let her thoughts warm up along with the car engine. It made sense to call in profile boy genius Mulder, but she wasn’t quite sure what her medical know-how could add to a kidnapping case at the moment.
She smiled as she imagined Skinner hanging up with Mulder and taking a beat before calling her, knowing that Mulder worked best when she was around. That they were a team. That they were something special together. That she was with him and he was with her, a package deal.
She let herself have these warm and fuzzy thoughts while she could, knowing that the frantic fight to save a child’s life was ahead of her and all that entailed.
She pulled into the parking garage and hustled up the operation room where she could see a frenzy of activity.
When Scully walked through the door, a room full of curious eyes landed on her and gave her a quick once over before returning to their activities.
Everyone was so...dressed up, Scully thought. Like, really dressed up. Several female agents stood before her in cocktail dresses with updos and pristine makeup. Men wore suits and ties, but the kind they save for outside office hours.
The air was thick with perfumes and colognes.
As Skinner -- who looked just as dapper -- finished up a phone call, Scully stood in the doorway awaiting further instruction and scanned the room looking for -- oh my god, Mulder.
His eyes were already locked on her when she found him toward the back of the room, standing over the printer.
Mulder was dressed in a tuxedo?? A tuxedo! With dress shoes!
When her eyes locked onto his, he smiled and held up his hand in a wave, motioning that he’d be over once the documents finished printing.
Was everyone going undercover? Was her outfit en route? Was this some kind of bizarre-o dream? Why did everyone look like they were about to do some sort of red carpet event when she was clad in black leggings, a sweatshirt and -- oof -- she didn’t think she’d even run a brush through her hair, gone puffy and scraggly from her post-work couch nap.
Her face was barren, having washed off her work makeup before she crashed in front of the TV. Her freckles were on high alert.
Come as you are! Everyone had! And everyone had just happened to leave the opera, or what?
Scully could see Mulder watching her.
His eyes followed hers as the wheels in her head spun.
Finally, Skinner walked to the center of the room, and everyone seemed to snap to attention. He cleared his throat, and the room settled.
“Thank you all for being here,” Skinner said, before launching into a rundown of the facts of the case, the players involved, a couple leads.
Everyone took notes, paying close attention.
“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your night, especially on a night like tonight, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how critical the next couple hours will be for getting Julian back safe and sound.”
Skinner started handing out assignments.
“Especially on a night like tonight?” Scully mused internally.
She could feel Mulder’s eyes back on her as her eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. With the intensity of his gaze, it felt like he was reading her running inner-commentary.
“Agent Mulder, Agent Scully,” Skinner said, snapping her attention back. “I want you to head to the Hilton downtown. Julian’s parents were there at the Valentine’s Day ball, and I want you to be on scene.”
Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day. Jesus Christ. Of course.
She had been cognizant that it was coming, obviously. The heart-shaped chocolates and sad red rose arrangements were popping up in the drug store and the sitcoms she kept on in the background on the rare occasion she was home at a reasonable hour to make dinner were having their holiday episodes where the lead characters dangled in front of audiences across the span of too many episodes in agonizing “will-they-won’t-they” fashion finally shared a kiss or a candy heart exchange.
Scully didn’t hate Valentine’s Day -- she thought giving the day that much power was worse than simply letting it wash over her. Another Valentine’s Day alone. Another Valentine’s Day where her mom would call a few days prior, an eagerness in her voice that made Dana angry, to ask if she had any plans for the weekend.
Sure, the day was fun when you were freshly coupled or when you were in the second grade and got to make one of those Valentine mailboxes out of a shoe box, but it was now just a day to Dana Scully. Maybe a day where she’d snag a cupcake with frosting that would turn her mouth pink from the bureau’s cafeteria, but just an average Friday, nonetheless.
And on this Friday, she and Mulder had been busy from morning till he cut out a few minutes early, chasing down leads and making plans for a potential mothman reconnaissance mission the two were embarking on next week. She hadn’t had time for the cupcake, hadn’t had time to think about the day or why Mulder had left the office a few minutes earlier than usual.
She’d simply bid him a goodnight and headed home, tired from the long week, and conked out on the couch after noshing on some leftover pizza.
Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed.
And here she stood, surrounded by agents with grand-plans-now-interrrupted. Agents whose ensembles told a story of fancy dinner reservations, dances, theater tickets, parties. Whose winged eyeliner and bobby pinned curls meant they were desired, loved, lusted over.
Whose dress shoes and tuxedo meant Mulder was desired, loved, lust over.
Her stomach lurched. Cheeks burned.
She self-consciously tugged at the bottom of her sweatshirt, tried to tuck a frizzy curl behind her ear.
She could feel Mulder’s eyes burning a hole in her skull, but she couldn’t dare meet his gaze. She could feel her eyes burning, praying they weren’t red-rimmed.
She didn’t want to know who he was with...where...how long.... She couldn’t know. Not now. They had work to do.
“And Agent Bender, please go with Agents Mulder and Scully,” Skinner said. “I know you talked to the parents on the phone earlier. You’ll be familiar to them.”
Suddenly, Mulder’s hand was gripping Scully’s arm.
“Scully...” he said, in a tone laced with guilt, almost as if the next words out of his mouth wanted to be “I can explain” but what was there to explain?
They were not together.
Well, they were quite literally always together, but they weren’t together together. They simply called each other in the middle of the night when one or the other had a nightmare and knew each other’s coffee order depending on coffee chain and had spare clothes at each other’s places and nursed each other back from the brink of death on countless occasions and had broken down in each other’s arms and spent too many a tension-filled evening falling in love in clandestine seclusion on a shitty motel bed over styrofoam boxes of lukewarm takeout.
Agents headed out the door to their respective assignments staring at the Mulder and Scully locked in a grip, parting around them like the Red Sea.
Agent Bender -- a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman who Scully noted always wore lip gloss and was wearing a beautiful blush satin spaghetti strap dress tonight -- sidled up next to the two, eyes darting back and forth from Mulder to Scully to their connected arms and back again.
Sensing this was not the time, Mulder let go and Scully flinched back into herself.
“Um,” Bender said, breaking the tension. “I’ll drive.”
By the time they made the stilted walk to the bureau car lot, Bender had regaled the two with wistful details about her evening cut short: her boyfriend-of-one-month Lloyd had bought her that designer bag she had always wanted and taken her for drinks on some rooftop somewhere in the city. Before she could get a drink in her, Skinner was calling.
“If only I had downed something faster, I could have gotten out of this,” she said, followed by an exaggerated sigh.
“What about you?” Bender said pointing to Mulder as she unlocked the car. “What were you doing ton-”
“While I appreciate the recaps, I don’t think we have time for all this bonding,” Scully said bitterly, cutting Bender off.
Mulder cleared his throat, subconsciously loosening his bow tie.
He opened the passenger door for Scully who stalked past him, throwing the back sedan door open and sliding in with her arms crossed.
“Scully, I -”
“Mulder, you get car sick,” Scully said, briskly. “Get in, take the front, and let’s go.”
Bender looked in the rearview mirror, eyes dancing between a pissed off Scully in the backseat and an anxious Mulder in front a few times before she started the car and took off toward the Hilton.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Mulder’s head was muddled as he flew to the bureau after getting a call from Skinner about a kidnapping.
His thoughts were already in a weird place -- his Valentine’s Day was not exactly what he had expected -- and now a kid case. Kid cases always messed with his head. His mind drifted to Samantha, to the Eve’s, and, as always, to Scully.
He was hoping he might see her tonight. He didn’t know what her Valentine’s plans were. He had tried to suss it out a number of times in the previous weeks, but it seemed like Scully didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe she was already half a bottle of wine deep with some guy she met at the gym.
About 15 minutes after he made it to the bureau and was put to work while Skinner organized the crew, he spotted a tuft of copper hair bouncing toward the operation room, and he felt a warmth spread throughout his bones.
When she stepped through the door, he couldn’t help but smile.
She hadn’t seen him yet, but she looked adorable. Like the version of herself Mulder had the privilege of knowing when they’d had an especially long travel day and she was sleepy and not the pristinely put-together Scully she worked so hard to present to the world.
He liked her when her freckles started peaking through her makeup and her hair got fluffy and she got a little loopy with tiredness. Hell, he liked her all the time.
As she looked around the room, he watched her head cock to the side and her eyebrows furrow increasingly.
When she spotted him, he gave her a dopey grin and waved like a dork before he could stop himself.
Her eyes bugged out at the sight of him. He looked down at himself and remembered he was wearing a tuxedo.
Oh, right.
He watched her hands glide over her hair, tug at her sweatshirt. She smiled at him and waved back, but had a befuddled expression on her face.
A quick scan of the room, and it was suddenly evident to Mulder that one of these things was not like the other.
Everyone but Scully was dressed to the nines. Everyone was coming off of Valentine’s dates....except for Scully?
His heart clenched. He didn’t want her to feel self-conscious. She was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. No one else could even compare.
He suddenly wanted to whisk her out of the room, take her somewhere else and away from the harsh lights and wandering eyes of the operation room.
Scully still looked confused as Skinner began talking. Mulder couldn’t take his eyes off her, but he dutifully took notes with his eyes trained on his partner. He’d been doing it for years now. No sweat.
Suddenly, Scully’s eyes went wide, and a deep rouge overtook her ivory cheeks.
Skinner had given them their assignment at the Valentine’s Day ball.
Oh, shit.
She forgot it was Valentine’s Day, didn’t she? They hadn’t mentioned it at all during the day, had been too busy planning for a mothman adventure in the next week.
She didn’t even ask questions when he ducked out a few minutes early.
He wanted to explain, wanted to tell her everything but she wouldn’t even look at him.
He broke out into a cold sweat which only intensified when Skinner assigned Agent Bender to go with them.
Great.
The woman who practically bathed in cotton candy-scented body spray that gave Mulder a headache whenever he passed her in the hallway.
He tried to get her attention before they left the room, but she refused to meet his gaze and then the two of them were following behind Bender, left to fend for themselves downwind of the lethal sugar aroma.
After a painfully awkward car ride in which Bender talked their ears off about some poor sap named Lloyd who sounded as boring as Bender, the crew arrived at the hotel and transformed into work mode.
Mulder and Scully had worked together plenty of times under awkward circumstances -- fights, petty jealousies, when the sexual tension had gotten too thick and made things weird -- and the work always saw them through.
They worked together efficiently and professionally, communicating as the three of them took statements and interviewed witnesses at the hotel and began the tedious task of watching hours of security camera footage.
The missing kid, 7-year-old Julian, had been in a hotel room watching Disney movies in bed while his 16-year-old sister Carla was in an adjoining room talking on the phone with her boyfriend while their parents danced the night away in the ballroom below them.
“A 16-year-old was having a more exciting Valentine’s Day than me,” Scully thought glumly before kicking herself for having such an insensitive thought.
Bender interviewed the parents while Mulder and Scully talked to Carla.
They sat in a corner of the bustling lobby, teeming with local law enforcement and federal agents, as moonlight filtered in through the hotel’s big windows.
Scully spilled a big splotch of coffee on her sweatshirt as they got settled and cut a glance at Mulder who she expected to be cracking a grin at his clumsy partner, but he hadn’t noticed. His eyes were faraway and pleading.
Scully knew this was exactly the kind of case to get her partner in a funk. She was sure he related to Carla -- a sibling taken right from under their nose. The guilt and shame of it all.
He was being especially kind and careful with his questioning. When Carla started to get emotional, he offered her an olive branch.
“My sister was taken when I was watching her too, Carla,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Your sister...” she said. “Did they find her?”
Mulder looked away, cursing himself for mentioning it.
“They....” he started. “We’ll find Julian. I promise.”
With that, he stood up and left the room for a minute while Scully took over.
When she was through, she reunited Carla with her parents and went to find Mulder, who had wandered to a stairwell in the hotel.
His bowtie was untied, and he was standing with his head hung.
“Hey,” Scully said, softly resting her hand on his shoulder from behind.
He lifted his head and turned around to face her.
“Hey,” he said back, softly.
“You okay?” Scully asked, plucking the bow tie from around his neck and stashing it in her purse.
“I’m an idiot,” he replied, rubbing his face over his hands.
“Well, sure, but we knew that already,” Scully said, a teasing lilt to her mouth, as she rubbed Mulder’s arm soothingly.
Mulder huffed out a laugh through his nose.
“But really, Mulder, you were very good with her,” Scully said. “You have shown her kindness in a dark time, which is not always something you were shown.”
“It is now, Scully,” he said, pulling a flyaway curl from Scully’s head and tucking it behind her ear. “You show me kindness.”
The pair smiled, Mulder’s hand still lingering behind her ear, retracting when Bender barged through the stairwell which suddenly reeked of cotton candy.
She paused, studying the two agents for a moment, before saying “They got him. Julian. He’s safe.”
Mulder and Scully exhaled loudly, bodies sagging in relief.
“Turns out, the kid wandered out of the hotel by himself, off looking for his own Disney adventure,” Bender said. “The hotel clerk who said she saw a man run off with a little boy matching his description has shit vision, it turns out. Must have been his own little screamin’ demon. Those damn astigmatisms, will get you every time. Anyway, Julian was found curled up asleep in a McDonald’s play place a few minutes ago. They’re going to get him checked out, but looks like not a hair out of place.”
“Thank God,” Scully said.
“Yeah,” Bender said. “Can’t believe I ditched cosmos with Lloyd for some kid who wanted to go down the slide. Anyway, local PD has it from here. Skinner’s called us off. I, uh, called Lloyd, and he said he’d forgive me for ditching him if I -- well, I’ll spare you the details, but are you two able to get the car back?”
Mulder and Scully exchanged amused glances.
“We’ll manage,” Mulder said. “Give Lloyd my regards.”
“Thanks,” Bender said. “You two have...plans for the rest of the evening?”
“Coming down from a cotton candy-induced stupor,” Mulder mumbled under his breath, and Scully put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laughter.
Bender, who hadn’t heard Mulder’s quip, narrowed her eyes at the two.
“You two are weird,” she said. “And I’m gonna go. See ya.”
“Mulder!” Scully hissed when Bender was out of earshot.
“Well, I hate that perfume!” Mulder said. “She’s gonna trigger a migraine one of these days.”
“I thought you’d like working with her,” Scully said, twirling her finger around a piece of her hair.
“Bender?” Mulder questioned.
“She’s...” Scully pursed her lips, trying to decide how she’d like to finish that sentence. “Tall.”
Mulder guffawed.
“Yes, her height was refreshing,” Mulder teased, knocking his hip against his partners as they started walking toward the car.
Scully yawned and stumbled into Mulder, her cheeks coloring as he grabbed her side to steady her.
“Woah,” he said, righting her. “Sleepy?”
Scully shook her head vehemently.
“Nope,” she said, a stubborn rigidity to her voice. “Wide awake.”
At least they were about to be alone where he could explain his evening to her in private -- something he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to do, but he did. Very much so.
A light snow had started to fall, so Mulder opened the passenger door for Scully while he took the ice scraper and got to work on the car windows.
By the time he was done, Scully’s head was tilted against the passenger window, and she was fast asleep.
He smiled to himself. She could fall asleep anywhere, any time.
He warmed the car up for her and started heading toward the bureau garage before reverting course. He couldn’t drop her off at her car to drive the rest of the way home. He wasn’t about to have her fall asleep behind the wheel.
His place wasn’t far away. She could have the couch, and he’d make do elsewhere.
The warm car ride must have lulled Scully into a deep sleep. Her gentle snores were accompanied by occasional twitches and murmurs. Mulder kept his hands at ten and two, but his eyes did wander to his sleeping partner every so often.
When he noticed what looked like a shiver run up her small body curled against the side of the car, he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and draped it over Scully, enveloping her in his body heat and that Mulder smell.
Reflexively, she pulled the jacket closer and inhaled, a sigh escaping her lips.
“Mulder...” she mewed in sleep.
He couldn’t wipe the cheeky grin off his face.
By the time they got to his building, he didn’t have the heart to wake her up. He knew his partner could sleep through a jackhammer convention, so he hoped that held true because if she woke up through this, she’d surely kill him.
He got out of the car gently opened her car door, letting her dead weight lean on his sturdy body. He cradled the underside of her knees and her back in his arms and lifted her out of the car, making sure to keep his jacket tucked around her. She stirred in his arms and snuggled closer into his chest, another sweet sigh escaping her lips.
Mulder buried his nose in her hair, lightly kissing the crown of her head before hauling Scully up into his building.
In a genius maneuver Mulder was excessively proud of, he hiked his leg and anchored it to the door to help balance Scully on top of while he unlocked his apartment one-handedly, sweeping her into his place that glowed green with aura of fish tank.
Setting her gently on his couch, he repositioned his jacket over her while he drew back to go get changed.
It was only when she lost his body warmth that she stirred enough -- mumbling in protest -- to wake herself.
Mulder turned around once he heard her sleepy groans and watched as her eyes popped open.
With cat-like reflexes, she darted up and looked around, a panic in her eyes.
Mulder rushed over, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Hey, hey,” he said. “You’re alright. You’re in my apartment. You’re OK.”
She slumped back into the couch.
“What the hell, Mulder?” she said, annoyed. “What's going on?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he said. “You fell asleep on the way back to the bureau, and I didn’t think you should drive if you were that tired. I just took you here to crash. Is that....OK?”
“I would have been fine to drive,” she muttered.
“I’m sure you would have been,” Mulder said. “Do you want some tea?”
“I -- well. Yes. Please,” Scully said, her expression softening a bit.
“Coming right up,” Mulder said, smiling at her.
As he puttered around his kitchen, a place that felt foreign to him in his own home, he thought now would be a good time to casually bring up what had been nagging at him all night.
“So, I wanted to tell you about tonight --” he started, his back turned to Scully as he searched through his cabinet for some honey.
“Mulder, you don’t need...I don’t...You don’t owe me an explanation,” Scully said, measuredly. “I’m.....happy for you.”
He turned around and quirked his head, inquisitive eyes boring into her.
“Um,” Mulder started again. “I’m...happy for you, too, Scully. I was at the Butterfly Kisses Valentine’s Dance.”
“I don’t need details, Mulder,” Scully interjected, turning red with an envy she couldn’t keep at bay.
“It’s a father/daughter dance,” he said.
That shut her up.
Her head snapped up to look at him as her jaw fell.
Finally, he could talk.
“I was there with Maya,” Mulder said, walking toward Scully, two steaming mugs in hand which he gently set down in front of her and took a seat beside her.
“Maya is nine. She’s the daughter of Joseph Richter. Agent Richter and I worked together quite a bit in my first years with the bureau. One case, there was a serial convenience store robber in town who kept shooting the convenience store clerks. They couldn’t catch the guy. We thought it would be an easy day. Things, uh....” Mulder scratched the five-o-clock shadow appearing on his chin and stared off through his window, the snow falling gently through the beams of streetlights.
“Things didn’t go as planned,” Mulder said. “We, um, well, Agent Richter was shot. We had just switched positions as we approached the suspect. The bullet was meant for me. Richter had a wife and a little girl at home.”
Mulder didn’t notice until now that some time during his speech, Scully had grabbed his hand and was rubbing soft circles against his skin with her thumb.
“We lost Agent Richter. I had to tell his wife, Ann. They had only been married a few years. Anyway, I told her that myself and the rest of the agents with us on that case would always be around to help. Sometimes I’ll change their porch light or clean their gutters. This year, Ann called and said there was a father/daughter dance at Maya’s school for Valentine’s Day. She asked if one of us could take Maya. The rest of the guys had dates but I...was available, so. Anyway. I was with Maya tonight. That’s where I was.”
Mulder pulled back and picked up his cup of tea with shaky hands and took a ragged sip, steam masking the hurt played out across his face.
Scully stared at him with big, wet eyes.
“I’m sorry your evening with Maya was cut short,” she said, hiding a tremble in her voice.
“We got through the dance, so that’s good,” Mulder said. “I was just about to take her for ice cream to make up for my two left feet, but luckily her mom was there, too, so I told her I’d take a rain check for some rocky road, scout’s honor.”
Scully smiled softly.
“I bet you made that little girl feel like a princess,” she said, smoothing the collar of Mulder’s crisp, white shirt.
“I hope so!” Mulder said. “She certainly looked like one -- purple, sparkly tutu and all. Speaking of...” he said, scooting closer to Scully. “What happened here, princess?” he said, a teasing gleam in his eye as he pointed to the coffee stain on Scully’s sweatshirt.
“Oh,” Scully said, softly, embarrassed. “I’m a mess. When I walked in...everyone looked so dressed up and there I was looking like...well, like this. I sort of...forgot...what day it was. Lame, I know. When Skinner called tonight, I was actually asleep on the couch, if you can believe it. I’m sure you can. When I saw you dressed like this....and then Skinner said it was Valentine’s Day....Well, I’m sorry I was so unpleasant all night. I just felt.....I don’t know. Silly, I guess.”
Sometime during Scully’s rambling, Mulder had picked up her hand and was rubbing soft circles against her skin with his thumb.
She smiled down at his reciprocated act of comfort.
“You don’t look like a mess to me,” he said, quietly, staring deeply into Scully’s blue eyes.
“No?” Scully questioned, their soft breathing the only sound that could be heard as they gazed.
“No,” Mulder responded, snapping out of the moment after too long of a pause. “Aside from this coffee stain. Take that sweatshirt off, and I’ll pop it in the washer. I’ll give you something of my mine in the meantime.”
“Uhhhh,” Scully said. “No, no, that’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
“Scully, while I promise it’s better than cotton candy, you smell like a Starbucks,” Mulder said. “C’mon, it’s no trouble. It’ll be good as new in the morning.”
Eyes glued to the floor, Scully grumbled as she tossed the sweatshirt over her head and clamped her arms over the front of her New York Knicks T-shirt.
Mulder tried to fight off a smile.
“Heyyy,” he said, in mock discovery. “I know that shirt.”
He rubbed the material between his fingers.
“Thought I lost it,” he said. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”
“Hmm,” Scully said, busying herself with her tea. “Must have been at the bottom of my laundry hamper. I just did a load this evening and threw something on before leaving the house.”
“Interesting,” Mulder said, stifling a grin.
Scully shrugged nonchalantly, blowing on her mug, followed by a massive yawn.
“Right,” Mulder said, standing. “You’re tired. Let me get you a pillow and some blankets.”
Scully blushed as she realized she was still hugging Mulder’s jacket close to her body. She picked it up and folded it neatly beside her.
When Mulder came back, he looked at the jacket next to her and the goosebumps rising on her arms.
“That’s OK,” he said, handing her a sweatshirt. “You can keep it tonight. I’m sure you’ve got it all warmed up to your liking.”
He picked up the jacket and laid it back over her, placing another fleece blanket on top and lying a pillow on the end of the couch for her.
Scully reclined, settling in under the soft, Mulder-y warmth of multiple items of his clothing.
“Mulder, where are you going to sleep?” she asked, through another yawn.
“Don’t worry about me, Scully,” Mulder said, sitting on the floor with his back propped up against the couch. “I’ve got some late-night infomercials to catch up on.”
He turned the TV on low and heard Scully getting comfortable behind him, snuggling deep into the leather indents of his couch.
Scully wondered if nestling against Mulder’s couch imprint was the closest she’d ever get to cuddling with the real thing. But the back of his head was sat close enough for her to run her fingers through if she wanted, so she was more than content to fall asleep wrapped in his clothes, his scent so close.
As she started to doze, she heard Mulder whisper “Happy Valentine’s Day, Scully.”
She smiled and hummed back to him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mulder.”
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Intrusive Thoughts
For the @xfpornbattle prompt: “Scully holding/squeezing Mulder’s hand during orgasm”
Summary: Mulder has an intrusive thought about Scully as she’s hypnotized during The Red and the Black -- and imagines her making those noises in another context. He returns to the thought more than once.
Fic behind the cut! Unbeta’d.
The thought first comes to him as just a flash, for just a second, as they sit on the doctor’s couch in Silver Springs.
Next to him, his partner is breathing heavily. He’s never heard her voice like this, raspy and breathy. He’s never seen her neck arched back, never studied the contracting of her throat as she gasps.
“Oh!” she breathes. “Oh!”
She reaches out for him, fingernails scraping against the hunter green leather of the couch, her pretty, capable fingers curling as if she --
Stop it.
But for just a moment, he can’t help to think of her making these sounds — of her throwing her head back — in response to pleasure, instead of pain.
He takes her hand and holds it, hoping to reassure her. By the time she’s describing the fire, the thought is gone, buried as it should be. She’s describing trauma. It’s wrong.
When it’s over, she looks at him and asks: “You were here the whole time?”
He nods, ashamed.
*
He keeps it buried for weeks. He tries so hard not to think about it ever again. It’s just an intrusive thought, after all, to use the term he learned back in school. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything about him. It just happens.
And so on a Friday night, on his own leather couch, his cock in his hand, he tries to focus on the woman on his television screen. The woman doesn’t look anything like his partner -- that’s become a self-imposed requirement of his when it comes to choosing a tape from his collection. It’s wrong to think about her. And it’s really wrong to think about the sounds she made on that doctor’s couch, the way her head was thrown back, the way her --
Stop it.
But he can’t. He’s weak. She’s there now, in his mind, in his fantasy, and who is he to turn her away? Who is he to kick her out of bed, or off his couch, even if only in his mind?
I’m sorry, he thinks, with the last grasp of his rational brain, I tried. I’m sure she’d appreciate the effort -- Sorry, Scully, I tried really hard not to reappropriate your traumatic recollections as masturbation material, but I just couldn’t do it.
In his fantasy, she’s in his lap, her legs spread. They’re on his couch, the blue screen at the end of a forgotten and finished movie giving off the only light in the room. Her blouse is unbuttoned. Her skirt hiked all the way up around her waist. Her underwear long ago discarded on his floor.
In his fantasy, he’s the reason she’s making those sounds. He’s slipping a finger, then two, then three inside of her, reveling in the wet heat, anticipating how it will feel when he replaces his fingers with his cock. But the fantasy isn’t really about his pleasure -- it’s about hers.
She makes the sounds he’s committed to memory from the tapes of her hypnosis. The little moans. His fingers slow inside her, and then he takes them away.
“Oh my God,” she whimpers. “I can’t --”
Just the way she said it -- no, stop it, he thinks.
He adds in some new dialogue.
“You can’t what, Scully?” he murmurs into her ear, her hot back resting against his chest. He palms her breasts over her bra as she wriggles against his erection.
“I can’t take anymore teasing, Mulder. Please,” she whimpers.
The tenor of her voice, the little gasps, the desperation, they’re familiar. But here, in his fantasy, she’s writhing with pleasure.
“You want to come?” he asks her, moving a finger to her clit.
She jolts, throws her head back against his chest. He imagines the movement of her neck as she gasps for air, as she swallows, as she says: “Yes, God, Mulder, make me come.”
He slips a finger inside as he works her clit.
“I’m going to make you come, Scully, and then, I’m going to fuck you until you think you can’t take anymore, and make you come again,” he promises her.
“Oh,” she whimpers as his fingers move faster.
Her eyes are closed, and she gropes blindly to find his free hand.
She clutches his hand in hers, and she comes, shaking and moaning his name.
As fantasy Scully — perfect, pure — comes in his mind, real life Mulder — guilty, ashamed — comes in his hand, alone, thinking of her.
*
He stuffs it away, in a corner of a closet in his mind. It’s something he mostly forgets, and then stumbles into, unexpectedly, now and then. When he’s imagining her bent over his desk, or in his mysteriously delivered water bed with the mirrored canopy, or in a dirty motel after a draining case, he’ll realize the sounds his Imaginary Scully is making in his mind aren’t imaginary -- they’re real, lifted from an ugly memory. He always feels bad about it, but it never stops him from coming, which makes him feel worse about it. It doesn’t happen a lot. But it happens.
Eventually, Scully isn’t strictly imaginary. Eventually, she winds up in his bed, on his couch, in her bed, on her floor, all sorts of places -- for real.
He doesn’t need to imagine how she’ll sound in a moment of pleasure, or to reappropriate a moment of horror to hear it in his mind -- because he’s heard it, for real. Those are the memories he comes to revisit in his mind on the nights he is alone, when she’s beyond the connecting door, or across town at her apartment. The box is stuffed further into that closet in his mind, at the back of a high shelf, cobwebbed.
Until.
Until one day, they’re on his couch, and he realizes, with a start, that they’re in the same position as his fantasy. She’s in his lap, he’s teasing her, she’s moaning, she’s panting, calling out to her God in frustration and desperation when he pulls back.
As he draws back in, she grips his hand, tight. And he remembers.
This, he thinks, this is the real deal. He thought he knew back then -- he thought what was on that tape of her hypnosis session was how she’d sound.
But the real thing was different. Yes, there was desperation in her moans and cries. But there was also joy, and a sense of comfort and safety that had been totally absent during her hypnosis session, and as such, absent in the fantasy he’d drawn from it.
“Yes,” she pants. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
His big hand squeezes her smaller one. He feels an overwhelming desire to keep her safe -- even from his own dirty mind.
“I’ve got you, Scully,” he murmurs into her ear. “I’ve got you.”
“Oh, Mulder,” is all she says in reply before she comes, clutching his free hand for dear life.
He never thinks of the hypnosis session again.
*
author’s note: I mean come on, I’m not the only pervert whose mind goes there during that scene, right?
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Seeing Stars Part 9
Characters: Eddie Munson x OFC Star
Summary: Star bonds with Eddie and Wayne over breakfast at their home. Wayne, being the wisest of them all see's the relationship between them growing whether he can get Eddie to admit it or not. The club decides what to do for Halloween. Eddie finds himself being the one to comfort Star after a setback at school. When she takes the time to share what she thinks about her art with Eddie, he realizes there's more going on between them than he wants to admit.
Comment & Reblog to let me know you like it and want more Eddie content!
Part 1 if you missed it!
Warnings/Triggers: Some making out. FLUFF. MAJOR HURT/COMFORT. Edding is the comforter. The entire thing is FLUFF. Figuring out they're in love/Denial of being in love.
Star woke up before Eddie. She didn’t bother to open her eyes right away, she knew where she was and whose face was mushed into her chest and drooling currently. She lifted a sprawled arm and positioned her fingers into Eddie’s hair. A subtle stirring and smacking of lips as he let out a sickeningly sweet grumble. He had followed her as she moved in her sleep, now half laying on her torso, an arm stuck under her. The hand that was nestled close to his face on her naked chest, almost like he was sucking his thumb, twitched and subconsciously must’ve realized where it was as he reached up to hold onto her boob. She held in a laugh as best she could but it jostled the sleeping puppy on her chest.
She shushed him softly, stroking his hair off his face. She placed her hand on top of his and let out a content sigh. Her nails gently drew up and down his forearm, the other hand slipping under the covers to do the same to his back. He groaned and scrunched his face up like an annoyed child. He raised his head and looked around then at her. The side of his head mushed into her body was flat, lines indented in his face and hair sticking straight up. His eyes barely opened as he smacked his lips and slowly woke up enough to focus his eyes. He let out a yawn that ended in a deep hum before wiping his mouth off from the drool. He grunted, seeing the puddle on Star's chest and pulling the cover up to wipe it off.
“Mmph. Sorry.” He rubbed his face aggressively, waking himself up more. His face was still grumpy and puffy as he looked down to realize he’d been sleeping in a nest of tits, becoming aware of Star's hand petting his back. He mashed his face into her chest and squeezed her body tight in his arms. After a deep breath, he lay silent and unmoving, enjoying the affection. “S’really good.” He sighed into her warm skin. Star continued the gentle up and down, back and forth, and circles of nails and palms to his searing warm back. So far it hadn’t mattered how cold it got at night, he’d always kept her warm.
He shifted, his leg moving over hers as his hand settled on her rib cage. His thumb gave a soft back and forth as he nestled his face into the side of her boob. An innocent enough kiss is placed where his face is planted. His hand moves up to feel the weight of her breast against it and he lets out a sleepy grunt. Another kiss, moving closer to her nipple. He lifts his head only long enough to target the now hard button and with a squeeze of his hand. He pops his mouth onto it. One suck was enough for her to let out a breathy moan and disrupt her relaxed state.
“Eddie.” She whispered.
He ignored or didn’t register her voice. His lips bowed and flexed against her skin, his eyes fluttering behind closed lids.
“Eddie.” She says again, her hand stopping the soothing circles to his back and pushing his hair off his face.
“Mmph.” Was the weak replay as his grip grew slightly tighter on her
“Eddie, stop.” She sighed with no conviction behind it.
“Why?” He muffled out and lapped her nipple, burning wet at the cold air of the room outside the sanctuary of the covers.
“Because your uncle is in the other room.” She cleared her throat and let her fingers play in his hair lazily. “And neither of us is good at being quiet.” He groaned in protest and kissed the underside of her chest. She was right.
“Morning sex at your place.” His half-formed thought was soothing and deep with his sleepy voice. “M’gonna sleep over there.” He muttered as a big inhale overtook him and turned into a yawn. He left noisy kisses on her sternum, raising himself on his elbow. Another to her neck. He haphazardly pushed her hair away from her neck and tried again. The last landing firmly on her cheek.
“You come over and keep me warm all night and I’ll think about it.” She rubbed her sleepy eyes to better take in the sight of him looking over her. The pale light coming from his window backlit him with a halo glow. His hair was huge and unruly and called her fingers to fuss in it. She reached out to twist a curl around her finger, her hand moving to his face. A thumb ran along his defined jawline as she gazed up at him.
He watched her curiously. Wishing he was brave enough to ask her what she was thinking when she looked at him like that. Instead, she wordlessly beckoned him closer with a finger under his chin. A simple soft kiss sent a rush of fire down their bodies unexpectedly. She’d only wanted to be reminded of how soft his mouth was. Some token of affection given impulsively by her to try to communicate things she wasn’t ready to know herself.
As their eyes met after the first press they mirrored, staring at each other's lips before diving in again. His hand moved to cup her face, her arms instinctively wrapping around his head to pull him close as the kiss caught fire quickly. A needy sound escapes against her will, triggering a moan from Eddie as his hand shifted to her hip, running down the back of her thigh as she bent her leg up into his touch.
“We’ve gotta stop.” She whined against his lips. Her brow sat low and her eyes were apologetic.
“You don’t wanna stop.” He pointed out, hair tickling her face as he shook his head.
“No.” She smiled. “But-“
“I know.” He swallowed and looked towards his door. “You're right.” He nodded and kissed her softly again. “Fuck I don’t want to.” His lips grazed her as he shook his head. Neither wanted to be the one to say it. It felt too good being together. It was hard to keep their hands off each other and it only kept getting harder each time they gave in. But when they lived lives that felt so devoid of pleasure in any form for so long, when something comes along that feels better than almost anything else you’ve experienced, you don’t dare do anything to make it stop.
“Have you tried not being a good kisser?” she giggled and held her hands to his face. He snorted and a smile broke out, she caught a quick glimpse of it before he buried his face in her neck.
“You want me to try that?” he grinned and bonked his face to hers making her laugh. “This better? I mean worse?” He stuck out his tongue and shook his head running it between her lips. He opened his mouth wide and covered hers entirely with his. He then blew a raspberry against her lips as she slapped his arm to get him to stop.
“It’s working!” she insisted shrilly.
“Good. I mean bad.” he shook his head with deep-voiced laughter as he blew raspberries to her cheek. “You mean you don’t like it when I-?” He opened his mouth and closed it much like a vacant-eyed fish against her with limp lips.
“Oh yeah I love it, I’m totally wet right now.” her whole body shook as she laughed in his arms.
“I'm pretty sure that’s from earlier.” He smirked and gave her a quick and light slap between her legs catching her off guard. She jumped at the touch and before she could physically retaliate he rolled away and stretched to get his cigarettes off the nightstand.
“Hand me one?” she rolled to her side to face him.
“Nah.” he shook his head, cigarette bobbing in his mouth.
“It’s the least you can do after slapping me.”
“You beg for it usually. Thought I was being philanthropic.” he grins.
“Big word so early in the morning.”
“Not been awake long enough to remember I’m stupid yet.” he chuckled and rolled back to her, popping one in her mouth.
“That weirdly makes sense.” He leans in and lights her cigarette for her. “Ever the gentleman.” she shook her hair back after an exhale.
“You have to work today, right?” They lay side by side, the worn blankets covering their waists and below.
“I’ve got the night shift.” she pouted.
“Saturday night shift. Fun.”
“I’d say maybe I’ll make some good tips but no one tips for shit here. It’s not exactly like the diner has the same clientele the restaurant I worked at before has though.”
“You ever thought about showing your tits? That’d get you tips.” She spurted out a laugh and hid her face to stifle it into the mattress. He smirked as he exhaled, watching her soft and open, hair tossed all around in his bed. It was a lovely sight.
“Honestly I would if we didn’t have the uniforms.” she shrugged.
“Oh right. You look good in it though. If you can’t get tips looking like that there’s no point in trying.”
“Thanks. I hate it.” she rolled her eyes with a smile. “I wish there was a strip club here. Maybe I could give that a try now that I’m 18.”
“You serious?” she’d gotten his attention, leaning closer and both not arm to arm on their stomachs.
“It’s dancing and manipulating men for money.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” He grinned.
“I think I’d be good at it.”
“You would.” he nodded in agreement with pooched lips.
“You wouldn’t care?” she shook her head his way.
“Strippers can make good money. You and that ass of yours might make enough to get you the hell out of here.” his eyes looked far away as he took a languid inhale and exhale.
“Maybe I’d make enough to get us both out.” she mused. He turned back to her with a sad smile. His eyes wandered a bit in thought but he didn’t share.
“There is a place. Outside of town.” he looked back to the bed and picked at his gnawed-down fingernails.
“Really?” she hummed. “Is it as sleazy as I think it is?” she frowned.
“Oh yeah.” he nodded and let out a huff of a laugh.
“You been there before?”
“Mmm Hmm.” he nodded with tight lips. It wasn’t the reaction she expected. She expected a smirk, some wiggling eyebrows, or a joke about tits but he kept the same closed-off energy. She raised a hand to tuck some of his hair behind his ear.
“What is it?” she whispered and rest her cheek on his arm. He moved his eyes but not his face to her, seeing in her doe eyes she could feel something was bothering him.
“Your witchy shit is annoying sometimes ya know.” he cracked a grin for her. “You know when something's bothering me.” She nodded and kissed his shoulder. She slid her arm between his and his body, cuddling up to him and putting her hands around his.
“You don’t have to tell me. But I had to ask when you seem upset.” He nodded and took a deep breath.
“My mom danced there. Before I was born.” Star blinked in surprise. “That’s where she met my dad.” the microexpression of a snarl on his lip at the mention made her cling to him tighter. “He used to take me when I was a kid and she’d be at work. He wouldn’t let her dance after they got married.”
“When you were a kid?” she couldn’t hide the flinch on her face.
“Oh yeah. Father of the year.” he rolled his eyes. “The girls there were great though. They loved me. Watched me whenever he’d disappear. Take me home when he didn’t come back. They all knew mom so they knew where we lived.”
“That explains a lot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he immediately became defensive.
“No!” she said quickly, holding him to the spot so he didn’t try to leave. “You didn’t even blink when I said I was on my period. You knew what that meant. Most guys our age don’t. Being around women, you learned a lot.” His eyes wandered while she spoke, she nervously took a drag and then caressed his hand with her fingers affectionately. “You’re protective over the younger guys. You take care of them like they did you. It makes sense.”
“Oh.” a surprised but monotone acknowledgment. “You don’t need to dance you need to be a shrink.” he finally smiled again, bumping his head against hers affectionately.
“I’ve got enough problems. I don’t want to hear everyone else's. I mean- not you! I wanna hear about you. I mean like patients and stuff.” she hurriedly blurted out.
“I know what you meant, Star.” he grinned and kissed her forehead. She let out a little sigh of relief and let her cheek mash against his arm.
“At least you got Wayne out of it? Right? He’s great.”
“He is.” Eddie nods and the warmth is back in his smile.
“That reminds me. I told him I’d make breakfast next time I was over.” she got up to lean over Eddie and ash out her cigarette.
“You makin’ my uncle breakfast and not me?” he followed her with his face as she got out of bed.
“I’m making all of us breakfast ya ding dong.” she laughed and started scanning the room. “Where are my panties?” she shook her head in confusion.
“I threw 'em in here with your clothes.” he lied very convincingly.
“You own nothing baby blue so it’s not like they shouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb,” she muttered and tossed his laundry around on his floor. “Fuck it.” she rolled her eyes and slipped her jeans on, quickly followed by her small tank top. “You mind if I steal something of yours?”
“It’s not stealing if you ask,” he smirked. She narrowed her eyes playfully at him and took one of his plaid flannels and buttoned it up halfway. “What's wrong with your sweater?”
“I know Wayne is going to have that big space heater on in here and it's gonna hit me as soon as I open that door. So I need something I won’t die of heat stroke in.”
“I think you just want to take my clothes.” he finally finishes his cigarette and throws his legs off the side of the bed.
“I do like them.” he saw a curious flush of pink in her cheeks as she smiled and looked away. “Your flannels are so damn soft they’re like butter. Same with that leather jacket. I’ve never felt leather so soft.”
“Because I’ve worn it for years. Beats it in. That and leather conditioner.”
“Conditioner? Like for your hair?”
“You could put it on your hair but I don’t think it’d end well.” he laughed and grabbed the closest pair of boxers.
“I didn’t know you conditioned leather.” she made a thoughtful sound. She propped herself up against the bedroom door, waiting for him. She’d grabbed his hairbrush off his desk and ran it through her shaggy cut.
“You can oil it too. Good for when it’s dry outside or if you’re a biker and you’re in the sun a lot.”
“You know a lot about leather.”
“Shouldn't have to tell you that when you’re poor you learn how to take care of your shit.” he chuckled.
“I thought it was gonna be a metal thing.” she shrugged. He pulled on a pair of pajama pants that hung loosely around his hips. “Or a sex thing.” she giggled.
“Or both.” he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Whichever it is the answer is yes.” she grinned as he approached. “You just gonna go out there looking like a slut?” she cracked up and covered her mouth as he stood judgementally looking at her.
“Excuse you?” he lifted a brow.
“You and your sexy little tattoos and these.” she ran a finger along the indents in his waist above his waistband. “Or my personal favorite.” she ran a finger down his happy trail and snapped his waistband.
“Now who’s acting like a slut?” he grabbed at her side to make her yelp and giggle. “I’ll put a shirt on so you can keep it in your pants.”
“My weak constitutions just can’t handle the masculine physique you’re assaulting my feminine eyes with.” she put the back of her hand to her forehead.
“You’re reading those old people fucking books again aren’t you?”
“It’s called regency romance!” she almost screeched and slapped his arm.
“Call the city.” He grinned, pulling the leg of his pajama pants up slowly. “Tell ‘em to put up the flood wall I’m gonna show some ankle.” He pointed his foot straight and lifted it to flex at her. “Is that what does it for you?” He smirked and comically wiggled his eyebrows.
“At least you’re in the right time period. It was elbows too.” He chuckled at her nerdiness coming out.
“Good 'ol tits and ass is what’s always done it for me.” He shrugged and reached for the door last Star.
“Oh, these?” She reaches up and honked her boobs with her hands and made a car horn noise. Eddie cackled and opened the door, pushing her into the hallway.
“And they call ME a freak.” He said passing her into the kitchen as she gained her balance and scoffed.
“Morning Wayne. I’m sorry you had to see Eddie treat me like that.”
“Morning hun.” He smiled at her appearance. “I raised him better than that, I know. Can’t do a thing with him.” He grinned.
“Morning to you too,” Eddie said with a soda in his hand already. “And she started it.”
“That angel? She’d never.” He laughed.
“Well, you got him fooled.”
“Nah it’s that Munson sarcasm.” She smiled and opened the fridge. “I said I’d make ya food when I stayed over next so let’s see what we’re working with.” He taps her foot and grabs a carton of eggs.
“You don’t have to do that.” Wayne begins to protest.
“Nope!” Star popped up and wagged a disciplining finger to the older man relaxed in his recliner. “I said I would and I’m gonna.”
“She’s decided. Don’t try to change her mind.” Eddie insists and he sits on the couch with wide-spread legs.
“What’d you kids get up to last night?” Wayne asked innocently, looking at the tv and clicking through channels. She looked to Eddie who was already suppressing a grin.
“Took the Hellfire Club to the drive-in to see a scary movie for Halloween.” Star very casually said while she looked through cabinets.
“Never was much for those.” Wayne shook his head.
“Maybe you should watch Star’s romance movies with her so I don’t have to.” Eddie snorted into his can.
“It’s nice to see a happy ending every now and then.” Wayne insisted with a shake of his head.
“See? Wayne gets it.” Star stuck her tongue out a little at Eddie.
“Eddie’s just acting like a hard ass. He’s actually a big baby.” Wayne grinned.
“Wayne!” Eddie Loudly groaned in protest.
“He still cries like a baby over Bambi.”
“Everyone cries about Bambi!” Eddie shouted.
“What about the Fox and the Hound?” Wayne smirked. Star could see the family resemblance when they smiled.
“Didn’t that like come out just a few years ago?” Star narrowed her eyes and a grin slowly grew as she stared down Eddie.
“Have you seen it? It’s the saddest most depressing thing ever!” He expressed with his hands. “I can believe you’re snitching like this. I thought you were on my side.”
“She thinks it’s cute.” He grinned and nodded over to Star.
“He’s right.” She snickered. “It’s adorable.”
“I never get to embarrass you in front of girls. I gotta get it in somehow.” Wayne chuckled.
“Star you aren’t allowed to come over anymore.” Eddie stated. Everyone but Eddie laughed.
“It’s cute, shut up. If anyone knows you’re a softie outside of Wayne it’s me. You watch Disney movies. It’s sweet. I rented The Black Cauldron just a few weeks ago.”
“See? Told ya.” Wayne muttered without looking from the tv.
Star started to cook and had the bare-bones ingredients to put something besides eggs together.
“Get in there and help her.” Wayne whispered to Eddie. Star was running water and couldn’t hear them.
“She wanted to make breakfast I didn’t wanna-“
“When a woman makes you food you offer to help.” He pointed a finger at Eddie. “Especially when it’s one you like.” He snapped his fingers like a father and Eddie hopped up on command.
Star was in the zone, deciding if the ancient cinnamon she found in the cabinet was alright to eat.
“Can I help?” Eddie asked sheepishly from behind her. She startled a little and he cracked a smile.
“You wanna beat the eggs for me?” she perked up and seemed happy he’d asked.
Wayne watched them subtly the entire time. He watched Eddie’s unsure face and body language scuttle around the kitchen, asking her about every step. She switched spoons in his hands for forks and showed him how to properly mix a batter while she did the dishes. Eddie was never much for cooking, it took a lot of focus and Eddie had always been short on that. Wayne wished he could’ve spent more time teaching him to cook but frozen meals were all he often had the energy for after long hours at the plant. Star clearly knew what she was doing in the kitchen. If she could pull together a meal out of the slim pickings of their kitchen he was impressed. She never got annoyed when Eddie asked question after question, looking for clarification and approval. He watched her guide his hands with hers and watched Eddie have to ask her to show him twice because the first time he was too busy looking at her instead of the bowl. His nephew sheepishly thanked her, paying more attention to her than the task at hand every time she stepped away.
He had told Wayne they were just friends, best friends at this point. And, yeah they’d started sleeping together. He promised they were being safe. Eddie answered if Wayne asked. He was the one person he knew he could trust. Eddie told him she’d said she didn’t know what her plans were after high school, she wasn’t looking to complicate her life after just moving. He also shared he thought that wasn’t the entire truth. Eddie had gotten red in the face when talking about how he thinks she won’t date because of an abusive ex. That she blubbered about it when she was drunk but was rather tight-lipped when sober. Eddie had denied that it bothered him that she wouldn’t be his girlfriend. But Wayne knew better. Eddie was a soft boy but Wayne knew the look of a man in love when he saw it.
-
Star hadn’t shut up since he stepped out of the van at her place that morning. He supposes her info dumping on him was karmic payback for all the times he’d done the same with D and D for her. But now he was being educated on the pantheon of Greek Gods and Goddesses.
“I think I’m gonna go as a Greek Goddess for Halloween.” she blurted out as she helped Eddie navigate the rapidly crowding hallway to the art room with her large canvas. She’d wrapped it in a bed sheet so no one could see it and even he had to admit it looked suspicious for someone like him to be moving something that looked like this. Although he didn’t think he seemed like the art thief type.
“Oh, Lady Athena Sandys?” he said in a tone more like his DM voice while she swore at people who weren’t getting out of her way as she backed up with one end of the canvas in her hands. “You gonna get a greatclub? Armor?”
“I meant an actual goddess. You know, laurels in the hair, toga dress situation.”
“That’s far less cool.” he grinned and she rolled her eyes.
“When I come to you looking for what’s considered cool, be sure to put me out of my misery.” she joked with a crooked smile.
“No, I’ll congratulate you for getting your head out of your ass. Or it’d be the clouds with all this greek shit.”
“They’re on Mount Olympus, they're not in the clouds.” she sass’s back as they finally make it to the art room.
“My apologies miss. I’m but a human peasant, I don’t know the ways of the gods.” he wavers his voice as he sits the canvas down and bows with groveling hands, backing away. Star rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him as she centered her work and checked the sheet over it. “Where had you been keeping this thing anyway?” he asked, standing next to her and rubbing the back of his neck.
“In my bedroom.”
“Pretty sure I’d notice this giant thing in your trailer.”
“No in the house.”
“You have two bedrooms? I didn’t know I was hanging out with a princess.”
“Shut up.” she moans. “The house has two bedrooms, there’s not much in there except an old bed and my painting stuff. I don’t really use it.”
“So it’s like a studio?”
“Yeah I guess.” she mused and chewed her lip, looking over the painting.
“Am I ever gonna get to see this?”
“Not until it’s done.” she shook her head.
“Why is it such a secret? The whole class is gonna see it today.”
“I’m just… I’m nervous.” she admitted and her arms immediately crossed across her chest.
“Do you not like it or-?”
“No, I love it. That’s the problem.”
“I don't follow.” he shook his head and diverted to face her.
“It’s nowhere near done, but it doesn’t have to be for months.” she spoke with one animated hand. “I’m in love with the idea, and the story, and I’ve spent a lot of time on it. Once it’s done I think it’ll be the best thing I’ve done to date.”
“Oh.” his head bobbed, surprised at her confidence. “I’m happy for you then. I can’t wait to see it.” She hadn’t ignored what he said, but once she started talking it didn’t want to stop. That happened around him sometimes.
“I'm worried no one else is going to like it. I mean it doesn’t matter I guess but I’m so into it and showing something that I actually give a shit about to someone else to fucking judge it in front of me and others is traumatizing.”
“I was like that when we first started writing songs.”
“Yeah?” she finally swung her head to look at him.
“You like something and you give birth to it in a way and then you have to have others see this part of you you’ve put out there in the world. It’s scary.”
“How’d you get over it?”
“I just kept doing it. You find people that get it and it makes it worth the shit you get from other people about thinking it’s stupid.”
“So suffer until you’re numb to the pain.” she chuckled.
“Basically. Life ya know.” he laughed back and shrugged.
“Wise words.” she nodded and gave a heavy sigh. “Your songs are good by the way.”
“Thanks.” he looked down and his sneaker scuffed the floor. “Your art's good too. Well, what I’ve seen of it.”
“Thanks.” she gives the same tightlipped bashful smile back to him.
The bell rang and broke the sincere moment.
“Ready to go grab our shit and start another bullshit day?” he held his arm out for her to go first.
“I wouldn’t say ready.” she muttered.
-
“What about you?” Jeff asked, tapping Star’s tray in front of her.
“Sorry, what?” she shook her head and gave him an apologetic look.
“She’s thinking about her painting. Art class next period.” Eddie smirked. She frowned and turned her attention back to Jeff.
“Yeah.” she sighed. “You were talking about Halloween, right?” She rest her chin on her hand.
“Yeah, we were asking what you were going as.”
“I think a Greek Goddess.” she nodded.
“Which one?” Dustin asked.
“Nemesis maybe?”
“Never heard of them. Badass name though.”
“Goddess of revenge basically.”
“You don’t wanna do something like Aphrodite? Everyone knows that one. That’s what girls usually do.” Mike tilted his head.
“She’s the hot one right?” Eddie asked.
“Goddess of sexual love and beauty.” Star clarified. “So I guess you could say the hot one.” she snorted out a laugh.
“Wouldn’t Athena make sense? Your character?”
“I didn’t wanna carry around weapons all night.”
“You have plans?” Eddie asked.
“There are parties, right? I kinda assumed you all did something.” her eyes darted to everyone at the table.
“We’re gonna get candy.” Dustin motioned to Mike.
“You’re like 20, you’re still trick or treating?” Star teased.
“Fourteen and yes. It’s free candy!” he said in defense. “Not really the party type.”
“Yeah, we don’t go to those stupid elaborate mating rituals.” Eddie scoffed.
“I met you at a party, Eddie.” Star laughed in a way that called him a hypocrite.
‘You did?” Dustin leaned forward excitedly.
“That wasn’t a high school party. It’s not the same.”
“YOU went to a party?” Mike stared.
“It was over the summer and yeah. Free beer.” Eddie shrugged.
“And Star.” Dustin wiggled his eyebrows.
“Unfortunately.” Eddie smirked.
“I was wasted,” Star said quietly to the table. “I’m told I spilled beer all over us and someone was nice enough to pull me away and try to clean me up.” she reached over to pat Eddie’s cheek. “Such a gentleman.”
“Better than you being in jail for trying to kill the guy that knocked into you.” he rubbed his cheek where she’d touched it like he was getting dirt off.
“That’s a cute story to tell your kids one day.” Dustin teased.
“Quit being weird, Henderson.” Eddie threw a fry at him.
“Yeah, quit being WEIRD.” Mike insisted.
“Anyway…” Star rolled her eyes. “What are we doing for Halloween?”
“We usually watch movies.”
“Do a Halloween session.” Eddie added.
“Party animals.” Star teased. “Do you dress up?”
“I thought about going as Hulk Hogan.” Gareth said.
“Bold choice. I like it.” Star nodded. “Eddie?”
“Eddie.” he nodded and looked at everyone while they stared back in question. He continued to look back at them as if they were the dumb ones. “Iron Maiden. Eddie?” he said with a shove of his hand.
A plethora of nods and mumbled understanding move through the small group.
“How are you gonna do that?”
“White t-shirt, jeans, Hairs the same.” he shrugged.
“Are you gonna ignore the fact that he’s a zombie?” Dustin groaned.
“I could get a skull mask or something.”
“Way to phone it in. Dress like yourself and maybe throw on a mask?” Star criticized.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“It’s the freak's holiday, show some spirit.”
“Should I go as satan? Scare kids by shouting I AM YOUR GOD and get the cops called on me?” Eddie mimicked loudly, finger horns to his head and tongue out, drawing attention to the table.
“Yes! That sounds metal as hell.” Eddie stared blankly with a hard brow at Star.
“I don’t think we’ve got bail money though.”
“What about makeup? You could paint your face.”
“I don’t think I’d like a bunch of shit all over my face all night.” Eddie scrunches his nose.
“Well, you all figure out the world's biggest problems I’m gonna head over to the art room.”
“You’re going to class early?” one narrowed their eyes at her.
“Yeah. I have a presentation today.” she said defensively.
“You want me to go?” Eddie asked with genuine big brown eyes looking up at her as she stood.
“No. Thanks. I got it.” she dismissed with a casual smile and stepped away. As soon as she was out of earshot.
“You want me to go?” Gareth mocked. Eddie glared at him.
“Want me to hold your purse Star?” Jeff teased.
“Shut up.” Eddie snapped back. “That canvas is huge, it takes two people to move it. Shit. A guy can’t be nice now?” he said a bit too defensively.
“You’re never nice.” Gareth raised an eyebrow.
“Sure I am. I don’t murder all of you. That’s nice of me.” he sass’s back with a shake of his head.
-
Eddie was no stranger to surges of unexplained energy. But this felt a little different. He felt restless and tried letting his leg shake, but it didn’t work. He tapped his pencil until he got death glares. He chewed his nails, and almost choked on his eraser when he did the same to his pencil. He felt like he needed to leave. Being impulsive wasn’t unusual, but it was usually to do something like scare someone or put something in his mouth that shouldn’t be there. He had a little voice in his head suggesting, that maybe he should leave class.
Everyone has their faces down, free time before the classes switched. He grabbed his notebook and headed to the front of the class.
“I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” He said in passing the teacher's desk with a pointed finger to the door.
“No, you’re not.”
He stopped, his feet planting before his body stopped moving. His hair and wallet chain swishing with the force.
“There’s only a few minutes left you can wait.”
“I can’t actually that’s why I’m going now.” He said with confidence.
“You’re going to go sneak a cigarette before your next class and I’m not going to be an accessory to it.”
“Good idea and all, but my next class is on the other side of the building so I figure I can go now and still be able to walk to class.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’ve to piss like a racehorse Ms. Mills. You can let me go or I can piss in your garbage can. Those are the choices.”
“Don’t use that language-“
“Sorry. Take a leak in your garbage can. Because if you want me to whip it out and give everyone a show-“ he started waking toward the garbage can by the door. “I can because I’d much rather do that than piss myself.” He says with a nod.
“I’m not gonna play your little games, Munson. Sit down.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He turned his back to the class and fully committed to unzipping his jeans before the teacher screeched.
“Just GO EDDIE! Geez, Louise! You kids!” She huffed and puffed as everyone laughed as Eddie spun around with a cocky grin and slid out the door.
He strolled at first, wondering where he would go to kill a few minutes. Then he thought of Star. She’d be getting out soon, he could let her gush about how art class went as he walked with her to her next class. Never mind the fact that it was in the opposite direction of his. He rounded the corner of the arts wing. The sounds of the music room were muffled, and banging could be heard from the building of sets in the theater. Then another noise caught his attention as he studied the murals his classmates had done on the walls, waiting for the bell.
A door slammed and his head swung towards it in a startle. Unexpectedly there was Star. Her face was as red as he’d ever seen it. Her hands were clenched and shaking, her eyes full of tears on the brink of falling. She took in a wheezing breath and looked at the floor, he could see her chest rising and falling hard.
Eddie’s shoe scuffed the waxed linoleum floors in an attempt to silently move closer. Star shot back like a frightened animal, her back to the lockers that were by the classroom door.
He didn’t have to say anything, she could see the fear and concern in his doe eyes from across the hallway through the blur of hot tears. As soon as he started moving toward her a sob broke from her chest. It echoed in the quiet hallway as he dropped his notebook as she hunched and ran directly into his arms. She hit him with force, her face buried in his soft layers of cotton, leather, and denim. Her hands clenched to his battle jacket, sections wadded in her shaking fists. She let out what she’d been holding in in front of the class. Another sob choked out, her shoulders lunging forward with it. Then her emotional dam broke. The crying came, muffled but noisy into Eddie’s embrace. He shushed her gently, his lips pressing to her head, his hand near it to hide her away from the world. For about a minute she noisily cries and stutters exhales through a tight throat. Once she caught her breath, the grunted angry cries died down to whimpers he asks her.
“You wanna get out of here?” She nodded furiously into his chest. “Here.” He pulled out his bandana from his back pocket. He pried her away gently, lifting her ashamed face. He wiped the tears and running mascara off her cheeks. He even pinched her nose and wipes the shining snot dripping from it. “Is now a bad time to tell you you’re pretty?” He gave her a warm grin, offering her the bandana. Her bottom lip trembled and she whimpered in response. Eddie snatched his notebook out of the floor and returned to her as quickly as he could manage. “The bells gonna ring any second and we can go jump in my van alright? With the people moving around no one’s gonna notice.” She wiped her running eye makeup and nodded. He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her out. They stood outside the double doors at the end of the hallway and the bell rang within a few breaths time. He took her by the hand to lead her to his van. She didn’t have it in her to pretend like she didn’t want to hold it.
-
They hopped into his van, Eddie starting it as quickly as he could.
“Get in the back.” he said, looking into the rearview mirror.
“The back?” the sniffled.
“So no one sees you.” he said commandingly.
“Oh.” her heart sank as she slinked into the space between the captain's chairs.
“If someone sees me they’ll know I ditched, not you.” he explained further as he started driving out of the parking lot. She took in a shaky breath of realization. Her chest didn’t ache so heavily anymore. At least not when it came to him. The hurt of thinking he was ashamed to be seen with her was replaced by being touched he had the foresight to care if she got in trouble.
He parked at the nearest playground to the school. He rolled the windows down a bit and got into the back with her. After plopping down on the old mattress in the back the first thing he did was hand her a cigarette. Her tired face giving him a weak smile was enough to know she appreciated it. As he likes to do, he held his zippo out and lit it for her. He watched her lean against the wall of the van with an exhale and noticed her body start to relax on the exhale. He held his cigarette on his lips as he crawled to pop a cassette into the dash.
“You wanna talk about it or need me to shut the fuck up and give you some space?” He asked seriously. He saw her smile at his question while staring at the carpeted ceiling.
“Let me finish this.”
He nodded and waited, the ripped-out ashtray from the console sat between them as they ash into it.
She snuffed out the cigarette and crossed her legs, leaning forward. She rubbed her face, taking his bandana out of her sweater pocket just in case.
“It didn’t go well.” She said with a sigh. “As you could tell.” She didn’t meet his eyes yet.
He stayed quiet despite the itch to comfort her.
“I went last, the whole time I feel like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin waiting. I have the biggest canvas and it was the only one covered and it felt like a target on my back. The teacher was fine. Not terrible, ya know. She wasn’t holding back critique and I thought I could handle it. Then she got to mine.” She groaned and hung her head. “I was so stupidly optimistic. I had this grand idea and backstory and huge canvas and I’ve done the most work by far. I’m rambling on about it and what it meant and what I wanted the audience to feel and when I was done she stood there with her beady little eyes and judged. Said I shouldn’t be telling the audience what to feel. That the subject matter was overdone. That it was inappropriate for someone my age. That’s all fine. I can put that up to her being an old out of touch bitch ya know. But….” He says her slump again, a loud swallow. “She was so mean.” The simple words of hurt and the way her eyes were already wet again as she finally met his eyes made Eddie’s stomach ache. “She said it was shallow and hyper-sexual and crude and lacked any real substance. That I should’ve known better than to try to take on something so big with my limited skill set.” Tears started to fall and Eddie couldn’t help himself, he closed the space between them, crawling over to her and sitting next to her. He put his arm around her to pull her into his side and she didn’t fight him on it. She greedily accepted it. “She told me I should trash the whole thing.” She started to cry again, her face contorting up as she fought against it. “And should forget about entering the contest. That I was far too amateurish compared to where I should be at this point. She asked if I was going to college and I told her I was thinking about applying to the Chicago Academy for the Arts and she told me-“ a sob was growing in her throat as she choked out the last words. “Don’t bother.” She started sobbing again and fell into Eddie’s chest.
“Jesus Christ.” He whispered out, at a loss for words. He did all he knew to do and held her. “C’mere baby.” He said softly, pulling her legs over his so he could fully, tightly get his arms around her. “I’m sorry.” He whispered into her hair as she let herself cry into his shirt.
“She was so mean.” She said again, muffled into his buttery soft flannel that she was rubbing her face against for comfort. She sounded like a child, but she knew no other words to express how unnecessary what the teacher had said was.
“She's wrong.” He declared with a deep confident tone. “You’re amazing Star. I’ve seen your drawings. They look like the ones I see in my magazines and books. You’re really good.” He insisted and she wanted to believe him. She did believe him but the raw open wound of being humiliated in front of her peers by someone she thought she could trust was still too painful to accept his kind words. She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his chest. “I don’t know why that bitch thought it was okay to talk to you like that,” he spoke quietly into her hair, the feeling of his breath warm against her scalp felt soothing. “It’s one thing to try to mentor someone and give them advice but that wasn’t even helpful. And in front of other people? That’s bullshit.”
“I didn’t cry in front of her.” She whimpered out, her cheek now mushed against his chest. She said it so defiantly but it was still so full of hurt.
“Of course, you didn’t .” He rubbed her back and moved her hair off her face with gentle fingers. “You’re a badass.” He smiled even if she couldn’t see it. “The fact that you didn’t sucker punch her deserves a medal.” She looked up at him with wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes for a moment before nuzzling her face back into his chest and letting them shut.
“Thank you,” she said in a noisy exhale. “For this.” Her eyes fluttered open, he watched her lip pout out and wet lashes laying dark against puffy lids. He shushed her.
“You’re letting me be useful. Thank you.” He grinned and kissed the top of her head.
“I do like this better than crying alone into a pillow.” She mumbled and cuddled into him again. He softly stroked back her hair, and she let out a content sigh. “That feels really good.” She admitted.
“Then I’ll keep doing it.” he quietly said, feeling her readjust her position against him and then relax. She let her eyes close and focused on the good. How he was warm and solid against her, his long fingers playing in her hair. She could hear his steady heartbeat where her ear rest against his body. She quickly felt as if she were meditating. Her heart synced to his, their breathing in time as they soaked in the vulnerability and comfort of their companionship. She felt her exhaustion hit her, but she didn’t have the fight left in her to push away and try to wake up. Instead, she fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t mind, he felt a warm fuzzy feeling of trust from her. She felt safe around him. From what he’d gathered about her trust in men, it was slim to none. He felt pride for her confiding in him. He let his head rest back against the wall, cradling her against him. Soon they both fall asleep with their bodies' rhythms in tune.
-
The impromptu nap didn’t last very long, just enough to wake up and realize you’d fallen asleep. A thump outside the van woke them, it seemed to be kids arriving after school at the park. Mildly disoriented, Star and Eddie Sat up, pouty with eyes adjusting to the light of the van.
“What time is it?” Star asked, moving toward the front.
“Just after 3.” A nod of acknowledgment from her as she sat on her knees. “You need to go to the school to pick anything up?” he asked with a grunt as he stood to walk to the driver’s seat, hunched over.
“Yeah, can we go get my painting so I can take it home? I don’t want it to be at school anymore.” she grumped and slid into the passenger side seat.
“Yeah, no problem.” he cleared his throat and patted his face to wake up.
A short ride to the school, and a short walk into the arts wing in silence as Star kept her body language reserved.
She looked through the window in the door to the art room to make sure no one was there before opening it.
“Guess you get to see this monstrosity now.” she sighed out and stopped in front of it.
“This is what she was talking shit about?” he didn’t hide the surprise in his voice, eyes wide and stance broad as he looked up at it. “This is fucking amazing, dude I don’t know what she’s smoking.”
“You mean that?”
“If I thought it was shit I’d tell you. I’d never let you live it down would I?”
She wags her head from side to side as if to weigh the options.
“So this is why you’ve not shut up about the Greeks.” he nodded in understanding, walking the few feet width, back and forth. “Is this a centaur?” he asks and touches the canvas. “Oh shit, can I touch it? Is that bad?” he asked seriously with worry as he turned to her to look for approval.
“It’s dry. It’s fine.” she chuckled. “It’s a Satyr. Kinda similar but not. They’re more man, the bottom half is goat or deer or something usually. But no four legs, just the two.”
“And who’s the babe? Aphrodite?” he points to the woman in the water.
“No.” she smiles and stands next to him. “We don’t know who she is.”
“This guy have a name?”
“Nope.”
“I'm beginning to see why she didn’t think there was much going on here.” he narrowed his eyes cautiously but he promised her he’d be honest.
“We’re not supposed to know. I know the details aren’t in yet.” she motioned to the blocked base colors on the painting, her fine lines of details muddy behind them, serving as a guide “But his expression is going to be unreadable. Or that’s what I want. You don’t know if he’s guarding her, or stalking her. You don’t know if she knows he’s there or not. Is she human? Nymph? A goddess in disguise? It’s supposed to make the viewer figure it out for themselves."
“I like that. Like a build your own adventure book.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” she shrugged but agreed. “I’ve spent hours on this guy's fur.” she ran her fingertips down the lower half of the satyr.
“I know it’s not finished but I think it’s really cool. Or good. Great, even.” You’ve got like 10 different colors in that fur. But in a good way!” he leaned forward to look and swung his head her way. “It’s got dimension, highlights, low lights. I know this is different from painting a miniature but that’s all I’ve got to go on.”
“That’s valid.” She nodded enthusiastically. “And thanks. I honestly believe you when you tell me things like this so… it means a lot.” She rubbed her arm and had a subdued closed-lip smile.
“I’m a terrible liar. I’m not good at it and I don’t like doing it. Sometimes that doesn’t work in my favor but no one can say I’m dishonest.”
“It’s rare. Especially in men.” She looked down and let out a huff of upset. He didn’t want her to be upset.
“What do uh- you think they’re doing?” He asked, motioning to the canvas as he stepped toward it. “I know you said I’m supposed to figure it out for myself but have you figured it out for you?”
A curious look came across her face. She looked as if she might cry again as she took in the painting.
“I think he’s in love with her.” She kept looking at the painting and Eddie nervously side-eyed her, freezing in place. “That’s why you can’t read his face. Maybe he doesn’t know he is. He just knows he’s there to see her. They’re not together. Maybe they’re not allowed to be. That’s why he’s in the shadows. But he doesn’t mean any harm.” She pauses and puts her fingers over the image of a woman in the near distance bathing in a creek in a crowded wood. “She feels him there. She hasn’t seen him yet. And her… She’s a powerful woman, whether that’s a goddess or just a strong human I don't know. Maybe ultimately there’s very little difference.”
Eddie, already standing so close to the painting, kept his eyes on Star as she explained with a soft voice and expressive face. He watched her stand like someone in an art gallery in a movie. Her weight was shifted to one side, an arm crossed over herself and the other to her chin in thought. His fear of her passively talking about him passed as she kept looking at the painting like it was telling her something she sympathized with. He decided to stare at it too. They stood in silence. He didn’t know if he was the satyr or the woman in this scenario. He certainly looked like the satyr with its wavy fur and hair the same color as his. He shifted his eyes back to Star. Was he the one watching her or was she watching him?
Did she even know how close she was to her own life with her explanation of the painting? He wondered if she was too intuitive for her own good. Similar to not seeing the forest for the trees as the saying goes. Maybe her witchy ways weren’t as forthright with her feelings as they were with others.
“How do you think it ends?” Eddie finally asked. Star knew what he meant despite the lack of context.
“I want to say it’s happy. That they fall in love and they frolic in the woods forever.” She shook her head, hesitant. “But I don’t believe it ends well.” She sighed. “I wanted to capture this moment where it’s not good or bad. Where nothing has truly happened yet one way or the other. It’s not optimistic or pessimistic. It just is.”
The simple outlook told him a lot about her at that moment. Maybe he was reading into it too much, or maybe those crystals he had were working. Because he saw a woman who wanted something good. But she was too distrustful to accept it existed. She said it herself, she wanted it. But she didn’t believe in it. She was stuck in a place where nothing could exist because she wouldn’t let it. His chest hurt for her. Then it hurt for himself.
He moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulders without putting much thought into it.
“I don’t know.” He said optimistically, getting her attention. “I believe they’ve got a chance. They could figure it out.”
“You’re usually the cynical one.”
“I know. But something about these two tells me they’re different. That’s what I see when I look at it.”
Star was too in her head to realize he wasn’t talking about the painting.
And neither was she.
-
Wayne came in after work, he was surprised to see Eddie’s bedroom door open and his lamp still on.
“Eddie, you up?” He asked, sitting his lunch bag on the counter. He quietly approached the dim room, thinking he might hear Eddie’s music from his headphones. He often fell asleep with them on. Wayne poked his head into the door opening and took a small gasp in. His chest warmed and his face softened. He let himself take in the sight before him. Star was in one of Eddie’s flannels, cuddling up under his arm and asleep on his chest. One of Eddie’s hands was still protectively around her. The other, down at his side with his thumb holding its place inside his beat-up edition of The Hobbit. He was propped up slightly, mouth open and the occasional snore escaping. He’d fallen asleep reading one of his favorite stories to her. Wayne felt an optimistic swell in his chest at the wholesome sight. It felt like Eddie had grown up far too fast, he missed seeing him enjoy himself. He missed seeing him comfortable, safe, having fallen asleep doing something he loved. And now he had someone he loved to share them with.
Part 10
Tag List (Just ask to be added!)
@Kik51199 @Banannie25 @Paracetamollvr @Honeyshifts @Vivi-m-b @Agent077knight @simonsbluee @suspirian @castiels-lilass @likeficsinthewind @hollyismentallyillhelp @eddiesgoodgirl @ouuwitchywoman @michaelfuckinglangdon @hannahdinse8 @thikkiesixx @idyllicbutterfly @lonesome-doves @bva14 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @darudecandadian-blog @eriseffigy @kriffingstars @psychedelephantt @laurathefahrradsattel @munsins @secularlunarsorceress
#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x ofc#eddie munson au#joe quinn#joseph quinn#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson xf!oc#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson ff#stranger things ff#stranger things au#stranger things fan fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fan fiction#eddie munson fix it fic#eddie munson hurt/comfort#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#stranger things fic#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader
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AI should do something actually useful like reformat all the 90s/early 00s fanfics so I don't feel like im hanging out in someone's notes app
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Ok so—the one question I have been pondering for a long time now…reblog and tag the one xf fanfic you would choose David and Gillian to read on an audio recording service.
#I can’t stop thinking about this#and need to pose the question to other xf fans#I think I would choose a case fic#and it would have smut#and need quite a bit of dialogue#could you imagine them reading certain lines aloud?#also how do you make this happen?#mulder + scully#gillian + david#xf fanfic
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XF Fanfic Writers Who Went On To Professional Writing Careers
Clearly these are just the folks I know.
Johanna Schaffhaussen (@syntax6) - She wrote fanfic as Syntax6 and is now a crime novelist.
Check out her fanfic (very, very good casefiles).
Check out her novels.
Claudia Gray (@claudiagray) - I don’t hear XF fandom bringing her name up as much, but I heard her talk once and even mention her background in fanfic. She wrote XF fic as Amy Vincent and now does paranormal YA romance / Star Wars novels as Claudia Gray. (Side note: CC said in a podcast interview last year that an author who had written Star Wars novels approached him with an idea for an XF novel, and he liked it and approved it. I really hoped it might be her, but I never heard more.)
Check out her fanfic.
Check out her Wikipedia page.
Check out her novels.
Laura Bontrager (@writingwell) - I mentioned her recently because @randomfoggytiger is such a fan! She wrote XF fanfic as RocketMan, and she's gone on to write romance / mystery novels.
Check out her fanfic.
Check out her novels.
Sonny Whitelaw - She wrote as Spider and became an ecothriller / speculative fiction author. She apparently also teaches classes at the New Zealand Writers' College.
Check out her fanfic.
Check out her Wikipedia page.
Check out her novels.
Y'all, I bet there are more. There are probably anonymous authors we'll never know. But add to the list if you know some. Including yourself, obviously.
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I first want to say, I love your fic lists and meta posts so much!
This is probably going to sound so silly. I have been a casual lurker in the x files fandom on Tumblr for a couple of years after i got into the show my last semester of college. I'm now realizing my hyperfixation isn't going away any time soon, and I want to start being more active here in this community. Maybe start posting some of the fic I've written just for fun. Everyone is so creative and talented; I'm a little overwhelmed and I'm not totally sure how to start? Any recommendations for how to start participating a bit more? Thank you 💗
An honor to be asked-- thank you! :DDD
For friendships and connections, I'd start engaging with posts in either tags or comments or-- most importantly-- asks. People want to be included in thoughts or conversations here (or just to chat); and that's how I became mutuals with a bunch of people.
I highly recommend @baronessblixen for any and all asks (and beautiful short fics)-- she loves new fans, and is highly receptive to conversations (she also encouraged me to move from anon to Tumblr user)-- and @deathsbestgirl for any and all meta-- she constantly engages with tags and comments (and we love to go back and forth with ideas, etc.) @x-files-scripts and @dunhamhairograpy post scripts from the original show; @scullysflannel, @myassbrokethefall, @iconicscullyoutfits, @perplexistan, @pennyserenade, and deathsbestgirl write incredible meta; @amplifyme, @aloysiavirgata, @suitablyaggrieved, @slippinmickeys, @cecilysass, @storybycorey, @settle-down-frohike, @leiascully, @writingwell, @sigritandtheelves, @jessahmewren, @dreamingofscully and @sixhours are long-time writers that are still active(ish) in the fandom; @mondfuchs, @opentheskies, @tennant-the-tigger post art; @mappingthexfiles, @trusttnno1, and @samanthamulder create edits or gifs; @carrie11 and @thatfragilecapricorn30 post nature photography; and @dd-is-my-guiltypleasure and @whovianderson keep up with David and Gillian respectively (btw, the actors' relationships are probably the most divided issue in this fandom-- I vote "not a big deal", personally.)
I can't recommend all the current writers I keep up with (wordspace), but I reblog them here or from my archives on the @x-files-fics second account I opened. I participated in an event last year with @welsharcher, @agent-troi, baronessblixen, and @numinousmysteries which can be found under the @eightnightsofmulder blog~. Authors I wish would come back to Tumblr are endless but @wtfmulder, @melforbes, @enigmaticdrblockhead, @onpaperfirst are on the list.
Like any fandom, there are divided lines between groups; but most people don't play those games and reblog from whomever they want (unless actively blocked.)
Resources: @today-in-fic collects all fics on Tumblr, and @ao3feed-msr collects the Ao3 ones. @lilydalexf is the original compiler (masterpost here.) I have resources for searching any and all fic here; and my fic compilations/meta posts/Personality Types-MBTI(ish) posts/xf fanvids/extra content are here.
Hope that helps!
#asks#justice-for-queequeg#welcome to the fandom!#and thanks for dropping in~#I feel very honored ;)))
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⭐(Re)Visit a Classic XF Fic [7/7]⭐
So, as part of The X files 30th anniversary celebrations, I took it upon myself to highlight some of the AMAZING authors I first read in this fandom. They were a HUGE part of my experience of watching the show during it's original run. For shippers, the original run was a marathon in faith, frustration and endurance. We were judged, dismissed, ridiculed and gaslit throughout. But in fandom, we found solidarity, and in fanfic, we found solace. (AND we won in the end, so THERE).
As a retired author, I also have a vested interest in pleading the case of older writers. Fanfic archives are libraries, not social media sites. Don't just read whatever comes up most recently in your feed. Search. Discover. Explore. Experiment. Yes, there are some differences in older fanfic culture that are evident in these seven recs. Characters may be understood differently in their original context, narrative style may also differ (more 1st/2nd person address that even addresses the reader directly), there may also be less clear trigger warnings and fewer opportunities for feedback/community. I know we all love AO3 and are grateful for its good works. But don't forget that there are other avenues through which to explore fanfiction.
For this final rec, I want to return to the first author I rec-ed. I urge you to check out her other works. The characters are sometimes a little overwrought or OOC but even when they are, her stuff is tremendously messy, sexy and fun. Here Mulder and Scully are perfectly in character in a rather rauchy scenario. (If you're a babyphile and you don't know the politics at play then ask an auntyphile to fill you in). I will post links below for all the classic authors I have rec-ed, along with a few archives you may want to check out.
Rec #7:
MSR, obligatory stakeout fic
Prompted by current events, Mulder and Scully discuss oral sex
Some knowledge of the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal required
READ MORE BY:
Rachel Anton (inc lots of Krycek content)
Beduini
Suzanne Schramm
Shalimar
Terma99
Narida Law
The search engine is not great but Gossamer IS still up and running:
X-Libris is a current archive that is doing a great job of recovering older works. You can suggest fics to be added to the site or even ask for a long lost fic to be tracked down!!
Smaller archives but also still up and running is Whispers of X and XFSM, both of which are good for different pairings, threesomes and a bit of kink, if that's your jam.
In particular, if you're into BDSM then you may want to check out Kristel St Johns "Aphrodisia" which does a beautiful job of putting Mulder and Scully in a v different, intense kind of physical relationship . The novel is unfinished but definitely still worth a read.
#txf#the x files#xf30th#fanfic#fanfiction#xf fanfic#xf fandom#ff recs#msr#mulder x scully#dana scully#fox mulder#sculder#scully x mulder#sorry other pairings didn't really get a look in here
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Hi ! I’m relatively new to txf fandom and you seem very knowledgeable and lovely, and I just saw a post that had this tweet and I wanted to ask if there’s a fic like that for us ? And if not, do you have any recommendations for your all time favorite txf fics ? Thank you :)
Well aren't you sweet. Not sure about knowledgeable and lovely, but I am quite susceptible to flattery!
Off the top of my head, I can think of 3 fics that have remained key pieces in the fandom since their publication:
Arizona Highways by Fialka
Fialka's entire body of work is astonishing, but AH remains not only a staple for the XF fandom, but is widely regarded as one of the classics of fanfiction itself. It made an impressive showing at the 2000 Spooky Awards (fanfic awards within the fandom), winning the outstanding novel, x-file (casefile), angst, Scully characterization, and "other" character categories, and second place for outstanding Mulder characterization.
The story provides a resolution to the Emily arc that both fans and characters were otherwise denied in show canon. It follows Scully, Mulder, and Kresge (from the Christmas Carol/Emily episodes) as they discover that Emily - like the Samanthas and other clones - was but one of a series of children produced from Scully's ova to be test subjects in the wider hybridization conspiracy.
Iolokus by RivkaT and MustangSally
A grim alternate universe take on the show's mytharc, this fic is highly controversial due to its bleak takes on Mulder and Scully's characterization, and the horrible things they endure throughout. Clones, rape, human experiments... I must admit that I have not finished this one - it got too dark for me quite early on - but it remains bookmarked for a time I feel ready to get into it.
This fic is both famous and infamous, and has been sparking controversy since its first publication in 1998. Proceed at your own risk.
Incrementum by Lepusarcticus
A far more recent entry into the fandom (2017), this work is a series of canon-compliant alternate-universe vignettes which explore what would have happened if Mulder and Scully's romantic and sexual relationship had begun much, much earlier than in canon.
Honorable mention goes to Parabiosis by Penumbra which explores Mulder and Scully's shifting relationship throughout season seven. Penumbra is another author whose entire body of work is worthy of a deep-dive; Fathoms Five is a stunning piece concerning Scully's struggle to understand her own immortality as the world around her marches inexorably onward, and Upsidaisium is a heart-breaking story set in the long grim night of Gethsemane.
Also of note is the series Life During Wartime, a years-long collaboration between four of the fandom's best writers (Maria Nicole, cofax7, finisterre/Marasmus, and Fialka) exploring the colonization apocalypse that never came. Sweet, heart-wrenching, poignant, and fearless.
Do also check out the fics listed under the various categories of the Spooky Awards (linked above) - some are enduring classics, some are great stories that have merely been buried in the sands of time. Many of the fics listed there can be found on Gossamer (one of the few surviving archives from the show's original run and a fandom archaeologist's wet dream) or X-Libris (one person's effort to save older fics and their art from the Wayback Machine in epub and pdf format for posterity and personal use).
Also dig through the XF Book Club's archive on Livejournal for some interesting pieces you can browse by category - and as an added bonus, you can watch fellow fans debate, critique, and generally lose their minds in the comments section!
I know I have some mutuals who are fellow fandom-oldies (or newcomers who have done deep dives) so please feel free to add your recommendations to this post.
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NEW FIC ALERT!!
I'M BACK!! After like a month and a half, finally, I present to you my third (and last of my OC's) fic! When I was writing Mel I mentioned I had a similar story (meaning it had been on my mind for years) for the Percy Jackson universe. Well, this is the one!
Here's the synopsis:
Four months after Ara makes the biggest decision of her life, her adoptive brother, Percy, goes missing with no explanation. In the midst of struggling to come to terms with her new responsibilities and the way she's perceived around camp, Ara meets Leo.
This is 100% a Leo Valdez xF!Oc from start to finish. It's a love story, with a little bit of Greek tragedy sprinkled in it to make it fun—but you guys know me, I wouldn't hurt you if I didn't have a good reason!
This one will be 3 books long (if you're not from around here you'll think that's too much but everyone knows this is actually pretty short when it comes to me lmao) it's an easy read for PJO fans since you guys are used to five books per series jsdjsd
Anyway, if you wanna be tagged, please interact with this post or add yourself to the taglist, and you'll be notified as soon as I post the first chapter!
I'm thinking this one will be posted most likely in three weeks or so, maybe less, depending on how fast I finish the first draft.
Hope you're excited cause I am! In the meantime I've got a Little Women fic coming, so don't worry you guys will get content soon either way
-Danny
#twoidiots writing#twoidiots talking#pjo hoo toa#riordanverse#heroes of olympus#pjo fandom#pjo#leo valdez#leo valdez x oc#DoO#Arae's fic#taglist of twoidiots#new fic alert
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Hi! :)
My dad is a huge fan of your XF fanfiction (I believe your stuff is his whole basis for the whole concept of fanfic). I've recently introduced him to the concept of AO3 and all its beauty, and he immediately wanted to search for your stuff. We were both sad to learn that it's not there, but I did find your Tumblr. So I just wanted to ask, is there any chance you'll ever archive your works on AO3? There are definitely still dedicated fans out there like my dad who would love to have it "kept safe" there and accessible to new fans too :)
(P.S. He has also discovered your published stuff and is very happy and loves them too ^^ )
Aw thanks so much! Tell your dad thanks for reading.
My stuff predates AO3, which is an impressive archive that I have visited frequently over the years! I'll never say never, but I am super busy these days and moving my fic is just not a high priority at the moment. Maybe one day.
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Fan Review of the Year (2023)
Thank you for tagging me, @randomfoggytiger
1. Your main fandom of the year: The X-Files
2. Your favorite film this year: I don't really watch movies! I enjoyed Barbie but I can't think of a single other movie I saw.
3. Your favorite book this year: Brandi Carlile's memoir, Broken Horses; also Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir and I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy
4. Your favorite album or song this year: Absolutely 100% anything by Brandi Carlile (I name all my fics after her song lyrics), but also the Arkells.
5. Your favorite TV shows this year: The X-Files, Selling Sunset (lolllll), White Lotus
6. Your favorite Tumblr community this year: I'm only on Tumblr for the X-Files, but was excited for the resurgence of Doctor Who content this year with David Tennant and Ncuti.
7. Your best new fandom discovery of the year: how much I'm into the Stella/Scully ship
8. Your biggest fandom disappointment of the year: that I feel like people dropped away from writing and reading XF fanfic this year. Maybe that's just my personal experience, but it didn't feel as exciting as 2022 was. I'll probably get a lot of hate for this, but I also wasn't super excited by G Spot either, but to be fair, I haven't had the chance to try it. I just wish GA had done something different than a drinks company.As
9. Your TV/movie boyfriend of the year: One day I'll stop salivating over David Duchovny as Mulder, but this year was not the year.
10. Your TV/movie girlfriend of the year: Dana Scully, obvs
11. Your biggest squee moment of the year: Meeting West Duchovny on the streets of NYC when I was there for a wedding. Absolutely wild stuff. She was so kind and nice and we got a picture together. My husband thought I was nuts. UM, and Piper finally sending me a piece I commissioned from her, along with several extra gifts and goodies she made just for meeeeee <3
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December Reading List
A post earlier today got me thinking… there are a lot of writers and creators in the XF Fandom who are newer, or haven’t gotten a lot of traction. And here’s the thing: the Fandom exists *because* of these fans. We are all part of this, creating and enjoying, and each of you matter. A lot. So, in the spirit of sharing the love and getting friends more views, share YOUR FIC that has the least amount of views or likes.
Reblog this post so we have a complete compilation of all suggested fics.
Share your fic link.
Read all the previously shared fics that you can.
Give likes/kudos AND at least a one sentence feedback to each that you read.
Give yourself and others grace- you may not get all of the fics read, and that’s okay. Just do your best to give the feedback YOU want on your own fics. That’s the whole point. ♥️
If you post here, I’ll read. I hope many of you do the same. Grab some hot cocoa… or coffee, or some wine, and curl up with some good fics.
#txf#the x files#xf fanfic#fanfic#txf fanfic#creatives#your work matters too#msr#mulder and scully#dana scully#fox mulder#x files#we always need more artists in the xf fandom
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Scully the ice queen?
I often see people talking about the “ice queen” trope in XF fanfic from the 90s as an example of fanon becoming ubiquitous in fanfic. If you don't know what I'm talking about, this is it in a nutshell: basically, fanfic in the 1990s began to make reference to Scully as a perceived “ice queen,” both at work and in her personal life, meaning that she didn’t express her emotions, that she was repressed and cold. And then that became a thing, a standard trope that other fanfic writers drew on.
My theory is that the “ice queen” / Scully association didn’t actually come from specific works of fic or from specific individuals. I also don’t think it necessarily originated in fic and then crossed over into fan perceptions of Scully. I think it’s easy for 21st century fans to get the causal arrows mixed up on this because we're missing some historical context. I believe many viewers in the 1990s—not just fanfic writers—actually interpreted Scully differently than viewers now because they interpreted female characters differently. I think people in the 1990s were simply much more likely to interpret women serious about their professional lives as “ice queens.” Especially if their professional lives involved science.
Consider the below female scientist (P.K. Newby) writing about her graduate school experience in the 1990s.
Of course this still happens today, and of course it didn’t always happen in the 1990s. But I think it’s important that this impacted actual women living their lives in the same time period, because it’s reasonable that this also affected TV audiences’ perception of a character.
I give you this message from the Usenet discussion group alt.tv.x-files, the first season of the show, from before the fanfic Usenet group was even created. This user characterizes Scully as an “ice queen,” claiming to notice a change after Darkness Falls, and even associating it with her skepticism specifically.
(This is me showing you the whole message with the date, then showing you parts close up because it's so tiny. I'm very dedicated.)
So in this (very early online fandom) conversation, we have a fan who already read her as an “ice queen” on their own without the filter of fanfic to sway them.
Now please don’t get me wrong. Fanfic definitely took hold of the Scully / ice queen thing and ran with it. There are many examples in the Usenet group during the 1990s of people asking, “Hey, which episode was Scully called ‘ice queen’ again? and people saying, ‘Oh never, ha, that’s just a fanfic thing.’” It was a well-established trope by at least 1997. See below.
I just want people to consider that it didn’t have to be one writer, one fic, or one incident that led to the popularization of this piece of fanon. This would have been something people understood right away because it already was culturally out there in the interpretation of the character and in associations with professional women. And like the person asking the question in the above message infers, it probably did come organically from several people at once.
That said, some 1990s fans actively questioned it, observing it didn’t seem to fit with their interpretation of the show.
Notice that in the below conversation, Scully as ice queen is mixed up in perceptions of GA as ice queen, too.
(Side note: I mean, you can totally get where that person was coming from, right? Gillian Anderson was TOTALLY giving repressed, cold, virginal saint in 1997.)
As a prolific reader of fanfic, old and new, I think it’s also important to add this: it seems to me that fanfic writers more often made “Ice Queen” a hurtful nickname that Scully was called by other people (like Mulder being called “Spooky”), not an actual characterization of her personality. And actually, especially given her mostly-male workplace, this seems not unrealistic in the 1990s? Some fanfic writers may even have been writing from experience. (At least, I think I'm right in saying that tendency was true. I'd be curious to know if other readers of old fanfic think Scully herself is characterized as an "ice queen" more often than I'm saying.)
I’m an Old Person. I’m ashamed to admit that in the same time period, I had a high school friend who always studied really hard in school and prioritized grades over social life, and sometimes we jokingly called her an “ice queen.” There was no male equivalent term. So unfortunately, I know this was most definitely a thing outside of Scully and the XF fandom. Fortunately, it does seem to be something we see less of in the 2020s. (At least I think?) I just want to point it out because it’s one of those things you could think was just a little fanon quirk concerning this character or this show when really I do think it’s about gender perceptions overall.
Very interested to know, though, if others think I'm wrong.
(actual Ice queen)
#the x files#ice queen#dana scully#gillian anderson#90s culture#xfiles fanfic#tropes#x files meta#txf meta#fanon
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Fic rec asks
[getting there! just a few more questions left from this list]
8. fic you think should be mandatory reading?
The phrasing of this put me off because I don't really believe in mandatory reading in any context, let alone fandom. I do think it can be both entertaining and educational to read older fic, by which I mean something written at least 25 years ago. It's fascinating to see the ways fan writing has (and hasn't) changed. Check out Fanlore's list of zines, or trawl Gossamer for some early XF fic.
20. last fic you read?
You Become a Continent (author anonymous at time of posting), a lovely Baze/Chirrut piece set in their younger days.
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