He might be older these
days but his focus, Mulder swears, is sharper than ever. Which is why Scully’s
exhausting silence hits him right in the face. They’re on the road, a
circumstance he still finds baffling even months into their reinstatement, on
their way to their motel. That’s something he could do without; staying in
second rate accommodations. He glances over at Scully, slouched in the
passenger seat, looking exhausted. He thinks about asking her if she’s all
right but he is not in the mood for her standard I’m fine. Their silences are
still comfortable, just like they used to be when they were partnered first, but
it’s not the same. Mulder feels the need to talk. Not even the about case. He
wants to know what she had for dinner last night, what she watched on TV,
whether she slept well. They’re on good terms, working as well together as
always, but there is an invisible line now and he doesn’t know if she’ll let
him cross it.
“There’s a gas
station. Let’s stop there a moment.” Scully says.
“We don’t need
“Can you please just
stop the car, Mulder?” Annoyance mixed with exasperation. He sets the
blinker and steers the car into the small parking area. Scully gets out of the
car without a word and Mulder watches her long, certain strides. He locks the
car before he follows her into the small convenience store. Soft music tinkles
from an old, rusty radio and three men talk about their wives, children and
grandchildren. They nod at Scully, but eye him curiously. I belong to her,
Mulder thinks. In every sense of the word. Scully seems determined, searching
for something in the back of the store. They used to go grocery shopping
together. Let’s do something normal, Mulder, she’d said when she proposed it
one Thursday afternoon. That was years ago. He has his groceries delivered
nowadays; he has no idea when Scully goes grocery shopping or where. It’s
selfish, he knows, but he hopes she does it alone.
She walks towards him and
he glances at her hands holding a box of tampons. Oh. They haven’t lived
together in years and if Mulder is honest, he has almost forgotten what it’s
like. He’d bring her hot water bottles, massage her back, and bring her to
orgasm; anything she asked for. Many times she didn’t, though. Like all her
burdens, big or small, she bore this particular one without complaint. He looks
at her now; her face, to him, is still the same. There are a few wrinkles here
and there and not as many laugh lines as he would have wanted for her. In his
mind, she is not 53 years old. She’s ageless, just Scully. But he knows what
her age means or should mean when it comes to her reproductive system. Not that
it has been working properly these last 20 years. Of all the things she might
have needed today, tampons were not high on Mulder’s guessing list.
“I’m just going to
pay. Do you want anything? Sunflower seeds?”
“I’ll pay.” He
holds out his hand and waits for Scully to give him the box of tampons.
“Mulder, it’s fine. I
don’t need you to pay for my-”
Please let me pay? Please?” There must be something in his voice or in his
expression that convinces her. When she hands over the box, he swears he can
hear a soft thank you before she walks out of the store. His eyes follow her
until she’s at the car. He picks up two Musketeers bars, throws in a bag of
sunflower seeds and pays for all of it. The cashier smiles at him knowingly and
puts it in a bag.
car, Scully holds on to the bag as if it contained the answers to all the
questions in the world. Neither of them speaks the rest of the way. Mulder
still wants to ask her how she feels. If there’s anything he can do to help. In
the end, though, he remains quiet.
you tomorrow, Mulder. Good night.” Scully disappears into her motel room
without another word and leaves Mulder standing there feeling lost. In his own
room, he considers working on the case, but finds that he can’t concentrate.
It’s not the same when Scully isn’t around to dispute his ideas, challenge him,
or even call him crazy. So the files remain untouched. Instead of taking a
shower, or changing into more comfortable clothes, he googles menopause and
reads tales of women in their 40s and 50s as they exchange stories of hot
flashes, emotional crises and loss of sex drive. He is so immersed in this
world that he’s merely seen, never inhabited himself, that he doesn’t hear the
knock at first.
It’s Scully. He throws the phone on his bed and opens his door to her. An air
of déjà-vu combined with the fresh evening air and Scully’s familiar scent
fills his nostrils.
you all right?”
think these are yours.” She hands him his sunflower seeds with a smile.
bought them for you, Scully.” He replies with a grin and takes them from
you for the Musketeer bars.“
used to want chocolate when you were on your period.” She nods, averts her
don’t you come in?”
has that ever stopped us before?”
not sure it’d be a good idea.”
never stopped us before either. Come in, please. Bring the Musketeer
makes you think I haven’t eaten them yet?”
know you, Scully. I know you.” He grins and to his greatest joy she pulls
both bars out of her pockets. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment or maybe
something else that Mulder doesn’t dare to think about. He ushers her in,
touches her arm, then her back, enjoying the normalcy of it. Scully sits down
on the bed; there really isn’t much else to sit on.
why are you reading about menopause?”
phone. I wasn’t snooping - it’s on your phone. You know, you should really adjust your display,
Mulder. It drains your battery. Now tell me why you’re interested in
was just… wondering. I thought maybe you’d, you know.” Now it’s him whose
cheeks take on a light pink color.
could have asked, Mulder.”
I allowed to ask you things like that, Scully?” The question tumbles out
before he can stop himself. Scully blinks at him, surprised.
you allowed to ask me about my menstrual cycle? Is that what you’re
I mean,” he takes a deep breath, sits next to her on the bed, “I
don’t know what I’m allowed to ask you, to tell you. Where am I in your life?
Is it still my business?”
don’t remember us talking in length about my period, Mulder. Ever.”
I knew. I was there, Scully. I didn’t need to ask because I was there. So am I
allowed to ask?”
course you’re allowed to ask, Mulder.” Scully sighs. “Is that why you
thought by now you’d be, you know, done with it.”
thought so, too,” Scully admits, not looking at him, worrying the sheets.
“That’s why I wasn’t prepared."
are you sorry for?” She asks with a soft chuckle, granting him one of her
warmest smiles that continuously makes him forget everything else.
a lot to be sorry for, Mulder. Let me share some of that, hm?” She hands
him one of the Musketeer bars.
been called a lot of things. No one has ever called us the two
Musketeers.” He bites into the rich chocolate, savors the taste and the
feel. Most of all, though, he enjoys watching Scully’s eyes drift close as her
lips close around the piece of chocolate. He wants to watch her eat chocolate
for the rest of his life. It’d be a good life, he is certain of it.
should probably go back to my own room now.”
think you should stay right here.” Mulder says.
could do that thing we always did…”
did a lot of things, Mulder. Be specific.” But she doesn’t get up from his
bed, doesn’t move away from him.
know, when your stomach hurt and your back?” He starts nuzzling her neck
just to see her reaction. She tilts her head, grants him permission, gives in.
I think I might remember.”
me to help you? For old time’s sake?” His lips linger against her skin and
she’s softer, warmer and more delicious than the chocolate he just tasted.
mm first of all he has a buzzcut. he got rid of the bowl cut “out of professionalism” but still wanted something easy to maintain
he looks like he wears the same thing to work everyday but his clothes just look alike
mob keeps a lot of post-its wherever it’s not not directly visible to a client. on his laptop, his desk, his break corner. he writes down reminders, notes, little pieces of advice, just things for him to generally keep in mind. he also sets a lot of alarms, especially at home (poor guy forgets to eat/sleep and lives alone:(
mob and whoever comes by (ritsu, teru, sometimes shou) drink mostly coffee, so the pantry (a small drawer) is constantly stuffed with 3-in-1 coffee packets
they also serve it to clients when they have to stay for a long time. as a result, the office pleasantly smells like coffee
the school clubs take up the form of just groups of just pals. just dudes hangin
mob’s gym buddies always get up for morning runs with him. he visits the actual gym not rarer than 3 times a week
telepathy club’s group activities often boil down to getting wasted and heatedly discussing conspiracy theories
mob gets invited to grab a cold one with the boys (tome & the gang) but he almost always declines
but when he doesn’t…
jk hes responsible enough + his other friends and his phone remind him to be home by 9:45
mob has a pet fish. he just does. it keeps him company and he tells it about his day. mob thinks they are alike in some way.
I’ve already been very busy with school (*single tear drops because it’s just September*) so this quick black and white sketch of Juvia is all I had time to draw. I’m very happy with it so I hope it makes up for my lack of activity.. :3
Made by jiyu-koya. Please do not repost without permission.
i was bummed when it looked like they might share a dance together at the celebration & then didn’t but LOW AND BEHOLD JUST A LITTLE LATER ON WE GET A VERY NICE SLOW DANCE TO SMOOTH JAZZ RECORDS WHILE DEBATING DEALS WITH A DEMON & PROMISING THEY’LL SAVE EACH OTHER FROM MADNESS, SO YEAH I’M DOING FINE but i felt like finishing this wish-fulfillment piece anyway, so…
Our lifetimes of combatting one another seemed to flip over like a spinning coin that fell to one side. His lips an inch from mine, he whispered something, not a quote. Not in French. Connor Cobalt murmured, “What’s inside this feeling that screams at me?” His eyes spoke of battles and wins and years positioned right across from me. “Devotion.” He neared. “Fealty.” His lips touched mine. Our very first kiss. My rigid body stayed erect, but I heated like a thousand burning stars. He deepened the kiss, in control so I wouldn’t have to think. I was thinking. I thought about how my mind sparked and blistered. I thought about how his hands commanded the moment as much as his lips. I thought about how he held me like I’d always been in his possession, as he’d always been in mine.
Side-by-side comparisons of my drawing of the Crust Cousins (at the time I kept getting conflicting information about whether it was spelled Crust/Krust) from 2007 vs now. I tried to keep the time spent roughly the same - back then I was knocking out drawings pretty fast, but this one I was especially proud of and took my time over (comparatively speaking). A lot of my stuff from that era has not aged as well as this one!
Here’s how the characters looked on the original show (these are their default outfits but nearly every episode they’d have at least one change of clothes - hence my fascination with drawing new outfits for them)
I just kind of wanted to show that, however marginal you might feel the difference is considering the time-frame, anyone can improve if they stick with something! [even someone like me who doesn’t have much in the way of natural draftsperson talent].
We always have a choice, Kane. You chose to press charges against my husband, your friend, even though you knew he would get floated for it. You chose to include my daughter in those charges, and now you’re choosing this. Hiding behind the law absolves you of nothing.”