cell phone out

robins and random tweets

Damian to Tim: Things you have done this year that irritated me: an anthology.

guy: excuse me, can you jump my car
Damian: *tying shoes* probably how tall is it
guy: no like-
Damian: *handing phone* take a video

Bruce: I’m anti-murder
Jason: Wow, that’s narrow-minded

Interviewer: what’s on your back?
Damian: a katana
I: what?
Damian: it’s a japanese sword used…you know what [takes back résumé] I don’t think I wanna work here

Jason [referring to Outlaws]: We weren’t traipsing, Bruce. We are rapscallions. We galavant.

[side eyeing Bruce]: Parents who have allowed your10 yr olds to become spoiled brats …We’ll check back in 10 years to see how that worked out for you.

Jason: When I die (again), I hope I have enough time to point at a complete stranger and whisper “you did this.”

GOOD COP: I’m going to read you your rights
BAD COP: I’m going to beat a confession out of you
Dick: you both make some good points

Damian [after tossing a baby a piece of cheese]: A dog would have caught it

Damian: (to the tune of We Will Rock You)
I feed my dog dog food

[Staring at bedroom ceiling]
Tim:Don’t worry. It happens to every guy
Jason:Not to me it doesn’t!
*resumes trying to unscrew lid from pasta jar

CELLMATE: What are you in for?
Dick *shifty eyed*: Bad shit, man.
[Flashback to Dick duct taping harmonicas to hand dryers in the McDonald’s bathroom]

Tim: if ghosts r real why are there no dinosaur ghosts? think about that, but u won’t bc i just blew your mind with something called logic, idiot

Jason: When I suggested we try a little role play, this is not what I had in mind
Tim: [in Jabba the Hutt costume] JUST PUT ON THE GOLD BIKINI

Therapist: How do you feel?
Tim: With my hands.
T: Do you deflect a lot?
Tim: Only sharp objects. If it’s fluffy, I just let it hit me.

*waves arm in the direction of the lake*
Dick: One day, all this will be yours.
Damian: Are you threatening to drown me?
Dick: Just make your bed, k?

Jason: is this all the cash?
CASHIER: yes but would you like to donate $1 to charity
Jason[tears welling up inside helmet]: ok

Tim: On this day 15 years ago Bruce picked up the phone and interrupted a file at 96% I’d been downloading from Napster for 17 hours.

Tim: Hate when older people say “you’re too young to be tired” alright Margret you’re too old to be alive but here we are

: Hi, do you take walk-ins?
The Morgue: what

Tim: my demon brother is sick and we are raising $5000 so I can backpack across Europe, too depressing to stay here next to this sick kid

[skipping stones on lake]
Jon: it’s such a beautiful evening
Damian: *whispering* take that you fucking lake

Tim: will there be sausage rolls?
Wayne Enterprise Worker [sobbing uncontrollably]: th-there-
Tim [louder]: Margaret. Your husband’s funeral. Sausage rolls?

Damian: what do you get when you cross a bear with a shark
Titus: bark
Damian: wait, Titus, don’t give it away

Bruce: Dick once got ahold of the scissors and gave himself a haircut. It wasn’t bad. So now every six weeks we casually leave them out.

Dick: Bruce saying he’s in back-to-back meetings all day, I suggested trying face to face meetings. He left without thanking me

Jason: how about we finish dinner and you can show me your bedroom
Tim: why wait? *pulls out cell phone and flips through photos of room*

Tim: *in pajamas* how did people get dressed and outside so quickly?
Dick: it’s noon, they were already dressed
Tim: impressive

Jason: I married a smart, funny, handsome, businessman but let’s be honest, mostly I was hoping to never do math again

Dick: If I had to choose between saving you or saving a stranger, I’d always pick you. How ‘bout you?
Jason: No question–I’d save me too.

Jason: My arm bone’s connected to my hand bone. My hand bone’s connected to a bacon cheeseburger.

Damian to Bruce after getting caught by Superman stalking Jon: it’s not considered 'people watching’ if you do it through their bedroom window, apparently.

Batboys X Reader- Welcome To The Family

“He got another one?”

Dick and Jason stared at your dirty and small figure sitting at the dining room table, eating your food as if it were your last meal.  Bruce had informed everyone that he had taken you off from the streets when he found you at a crime scene.  You were hidden behind a couple boxes when a criminal decided to mug someone in the same alley.  The sounds of the victim struggling woke you up from your nap, making you leave your current home at the time.  There was a woman that was attempting to push a man’s knife away from her neck.  You quickly grabbed an old pipe you kept with you and stood up, quietly approaching the man until you were directly behind him.  You rose the pipe and bashed it on his head, causing him to drop the knife and collapse on the ground.  You hit him again for good measure and kicked away the knife.  The woman you saved stared at you, trying to process what you had just done.

“He’s still alive,” you muttered and kicked the man, receiving a groan from him.

“Thank you,” she stuttered out and hugged you.

You sighed at the warmth she provided, but had to let go, “Can you call the police?  I don’t want to be here without help if he wakes up again.”

She nodded and pulled out her cell phone out of her battered purse.  A few minutes later, a shadow enveloped you and the woman.  You turned around, the pipe still in your grip, to find the Batman looking at you and the woman.  He walked past you and the woman, grabbed the man, and placed some type of handcuffs on him.  Once he was finished with the criminal, he turned around and faced you and the woman.  

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hey guys! i don’t know about you, but around the holidays i usually like to curl up with some hot chocolate and read. so i’ve gathered some fics that are good for those cold winter nights.

** means i haven’t read it, but it came highly recommended 

chestnuts roasting… & all that by elsi_bee 

Louis is apparently the only person at his new job who is single as can be. It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party. Cue fake relationship antics with a certain someone who is more than willing to play along.

my world is filled with cheer (and you) by rbbsbb

They’re all in Secondary school together, and Harry isn’t new to pining. The annual Secret Santa gift exchange is on, though, and when he pulls Louis’ name, Harry decides that he needs to get his boy the best present that he could ever ask for.

(Or, Harry is in love with Louis, his best mate, and is his Secret Santa this year.)

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The Friendly Wager (Part 1)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: language, fluff, sarcasm, bad date, implied sexual situations (no smut)

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” I think this will have at least seven parts, so Kait, please feel free to disregard it till it’s completed :)

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Originally posted by talkinboutmyimagination

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technically single || stuart twombly (smut)

word count: 6278

warnings: oral (both receiving), smut, strip club, unestablished relationship

author’s note: so i was listening to the way i are by timbaland and i just felt the need to use it as some sinsipration! enjoy xo

pairing: stuart twombly / reader

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“This is not good. Oh, oh Lord, this is not good at all.”

Bitty peers through the windshield. The snow is falling in curtains now, thick sheets of white that drift down heavy and soft onto the deserted highway. He runs his wipers a few more times, clears the view, then watches as the snow repaints it dot by frigid dot.

He should have known better than to think he could drive up to Massachusetts with a storm approaching. He should have canceled the trip, postponed it, made other plans. But the promise of a real white Christmas had sounded so intriguing, and Larissa had begged him to make the trip.

“You’ll like Samwell,” she’d told him. “It’s pretty sweet.” Which, from Larissa, was the equivalent of singing its praises from the rooftops. And the pictures she sent were so nice – long flowing river, pond, green spaces on the local college campus coated with a dusting of snow.

What he wouldn’t give for a dusting now!  But no, now, he’s stopped by the side of the highway, Samwell a mere two miles away per the last sign he passed, his own fog lamps the only glare in the sea of white outside.

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anonymous asked:

I know your crazy busy with life and use your writing time for drive and winter song but... Could you write a smol sick fic? Nothing long or extravagant! It would be a blessing.

Summary: Yuuri falls ill during a practice at the Ice Castle. Pre-Episode 5.


When Victor excused himself from practice to take a quick phone call, Yuuri was fine. Perhaps a little quieter than normal while he rehearsed a combination spin out on the Ice Castle rink, one gloved hand extended gracefully overhead, but there was no indication that anything was wrong.

He was fine.

How that changed so quickly was anyone’s guess.

Victor was gone for less than five minutes, and when he returned, Yuuri was on his knees in the center of the rink with his head in his hands. Victor took one look and started running, even before he fully registered what he was seeing. He wasn’t wearing his skates for practice today, but that didn’t stop him from running out onto the ice and slipping and sliding for the first few steps before he regained his balance.

“Yuuri.” Victor came to a clumsy stop in front of him, and when he dropped to his knees, the ice soaked through the fabric of his pants. He grasped Yuuri’s shoulder and said, “What happened. Did you fall?”

Yuuri was shaking. His face was so pale that even his lips had lost their color, and he kept squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them as if to clear his vision. “Dizzy,” he said.

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Heart Of Gold

| © spiderlingy |

     You calmly strutted through the laughter-filled halls of Midtown High School with your textbooks clutched against your chest, sparing a genuine smile to the students who waved in your direction. According to the teachers and students throughout Midtown High School, you were considered to be an intelligent and well-respected student. You had grades above an A in every class and did not mind tutoring another student. You were also well-known throughout the school due to your spot on the school’s swimming team. Being properly raised by your parents, you’d grown to be very lady-like, calm, generous, and warmhearted. You enjoyed brightening up a person’s day and helping a person in need. Doing kind gestures would make your heart flutter in happiness and satisfaction. You cared so much about helping others that sometimes you would even forget to help yourself.

    Shortly, you arrived at your locker and dialed the combination of the lock. Unlocking it, the first thing you saw was an old photo taped on the locker door—you smiled at the sight of it. The photo was of you and your best friend, Peter Parker. Your head rested on his shoulder, smiles displayed on the both of your features. The memorable photo was taken a few years ago. When his parents died, Aunt May and Uncle Ben had became his surrogate parents and took him in. When you found out about his parents’ death, you refused to leave his side. You two had been inseparable ever since. Even through the toughest times, Peter was always there for you as you were always there for him. It’s you and Peter against the world—together, you were invincible

      Most of the times, when you were over at Peter’s house, you two would just do homework, have deep conversations, or watch movies and cuddle next to each other wrapped in blankets. Aunt May would walk in to catch you two sleeping the night away together—cherishing the adorable sight by sneaking a quick picture. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were convinced that you and Peter were destined to be best friends, or even more, since the very start when you two had met in elementary school.

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Pulse Part 14

Part 13

Genre: Fluff
Words: 1,920
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Injuries
Summary: Soulmate AU in which one’s heartbeat becomes perfectly in sync with their soulmate’s once they meet.

Originally posted by there-and-always-back-again

You had imagined kissing your soulmate so many times that you had lost count, and, somehow, your mind had never been able to conjure up how magical the reality of it was. It felt as if you were being consumed from the inside out, that pull of an imaginary string that had been connected to him and weening you in was now nonexistent between the two of you. You felt like your were home. Heat swelled inside of you when you were pressed this close to him, warming your insides from the blush in your cheeks all the way down to your toes.

His lips were soft on yours, and you were positive you would never get used to the feeling flowing down your spine at his hands on you. They roamed your torso gently, being careful to skim over your ribs and stitches before gripping your hips with the lightest of touches. The expanse of those hands made you feel so incredibly safe. You didn’t know if it was his fighting ability, his size, or just him being your soulmate, but being in his arms made you feel untouchable. 

Only he could touch you- with his static kisses and loving caresses. His tongue swiped over your own and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling, wanting nothing more than that same tongue to paint your neck into a pattern of love bites. Tingles moved through you like a calming wave and you just wanted to fall, fall, fall right into him.

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still a flicker of hope that you first gave to me

images made on a scanner with printed photographs, plastic wrap, and water

Justice League End Credit Scene

I did this once before with “how I want the Nightwing movie to start” and you guys seemed to like that a Lot and I’m doing it again for the JL end credit scene now bc I can and bc I told my best buddy @sohotthateveryonedied this a while ago and saved it and forgot I wanted to post it but now bc we got news that hey, there’s not gonna be one but TWO after credit scenes in the Justice League movie and I’m excited for this (shh it’s not the best I’ve ever written but hey I tried) so here

@ dc do this I dare you


we’re in an apartment building hallway, following a dark haired man from behind as he unlocks his door and walks in

the camera pans around the apartment and you see unopened letters on the coffee table, and a newpaper that reads “new vigilante on the streets?” and a grainy picture of a man in an alley way.

You can’t see the man in the picture’s face, but you can tell he’s got some sort of mask and costume on; there’s a hint of blue going across his chest.

and the man from before picks up the newspaper and looks at it, before setting it down and shaking his head.

He walks over to the fridge, taking out a soda. he opens the can and as he sits at the counter to drink it, his cell phone rings.

he takes it out of his pocket (we still haven’t seen his face)

You hear him say, “Hey. Yeah, I saw it on the news. I thought- yeah. No, I’m not busy….But I thought he-.” The man walks into the bedroom, opens the closet door. “I thought he said he works alone. Guess I was wrong.” And you see the camera zoom past his face and there’s the Nightwing suit and then the screen goes black

x-files au crossover where mulder is the beast but instead of a rose it’s a clock gradually winding down 9 minutes and scully is belle but instead of books it’s science (she’s been strange since her mother mysteriously disappeared) and then her dad dies so her uncle walter takes custody but she trades her freedom to save him so he has to go get help from the town doctor daniel waterson aka gaston meanwhile at the castle frohike (lumiere) and byers (cogsworth) along with scully’s missing mom maggie (mrs. potts) and emily (chip) are trying to get her to break the curse which can only be broken if someone actually believes mulder PLEASE SOMEONE WRITE THIS

Someday Your Child May Cry

Previous: Question | Preparations | Irrational | Confession | Collateral | Thoughtless | Interrupted | Recovering | Irresponsible | Possibility | Devastation | Confrontation | Generous | Confirmation | Understanding | Sight | Insatiable | Agreement | Family | Threatened | Terrified | Helpless | Mourning | Evasion | Gratitude

26. Unexpected

In the six or seven years that Mulder and Scully have known Walter Skinner, they’ve never known him to attend any sort of social gathering, much less host one himself. So when he drops by the basement office two days before Christmas to invite them to his New Year’s Eve party, they’re taken by surprise.

“Of course, I understand you can’t commit one way or another,” Skinner tells them, with a pointed look at Scully’s stomach. She’s four days from her due date and three minutes from reaching in and yanking the baby out all by herself. “But if nothing’s changed by then, and you feel up to it, I’d like it if you could both come.”

Privately, Scully doubts she’ll survive that long if she hasn’t given birth by then… but when New Year’s Eve arrives, and she’s got nothing to show for it except a few particularly intense Braxton-Hicks contractions, Scully allows Mulder to coax her into her lone maternity dress and out of her (now their, as of October) apartment.

“Come on, Scully,” he wheedles, as he pulls her, protesting and grumbling, out of the building and to the car. “Our boss has finally deemed us fit enough for public consumption to invite us to a social gathering. Don’t you want to reward his faith in us?”

The drive to Skinner’s apartment in Crystal City is just long enough for Scully to breathe her way through a few more Braxton-Hicks contractions. Each time, Mulder glances over at her nervously.

“Should we be timing these?” he asks, and Scully shakes her head.

“It’s not the real thing yet,” she says. “There’s no rhythm to them whatsoever. They don’t even hurt yet.”

“Yeah, but your pain tolerance is considerably higher than the average person’s, Scully. I’ve seen it. Are you sure we shouldn’t-”

“Mulder,” Scully snaps, cutting him off, “I went through the trouble of squeezing into this dress and putting on makeup, and I’m not going anywhere except to this party. At the stroke of midnight, and not a moment later, I’m getting back in this car, you are taking me home, and I’m not doing anything that I don’t want to do until this baby finally decides to make an appearance. Understand?” Mulder nods meekly, and says nothing for the duration of the drive.

A light snow has begun to fall by the time they arrive. Mulder glances up at the sky nervously, then at Scully, and appears to weigh the risk of commenting on potential risky driving conditions before deciding to keep quiet. Skinner, drink in hand, meets them at the door and attempts to thrust a glass of scotch at Mulder, who shakes his head.

“Better not,” Mulder says, and leans over to whisper something in Skinner’s ear that makes their boss immediately look concerned. Before either can start trying to convince her that maybe she should head to the hospital, Scully shakes her head and walks away as quickly as she can. 

Scully wanders from one group of fellow agents to another for an hour, making polite conversation, answering far too many well-meaning questions about when she’s due, how she’s feeling, whether or not she’s ready for this to be over yet. She fields the occasional labor-and-delivery horror story (why do people insist on sharing these with first-time mothers?) and dodges the obvious gossips who are clearly only looking for juicy tidbits to share at the water cooler. The entire time, she splits the remainder of her focus between keeping an eye on the steadily-increasing snowfall outside, and timing her contractions, which are increasing right alongside the snowfall.

With less than half an hour to go until midnight, Scully is finally no longer able to talk through the contractions, and the intervals between them are decreasing quicker than she would have believed possible. Carefully placing her half-drunk flute of ginger ale on the nearest table, she goes in search of Mulder.

Seconds later, however, she feels a sudden, warm gush of fluid between her legs, and she freezes in place, her breath catching in her throat. She’s just wondering what her chances are of finding Mulder before anyone notices when there’s a sudden gasp to her left.

“Oh my god!” shrieks Kim, Skinner’s assistant. “Your water broke!” As people around them begin to turn and gawk, Scully tried frantically to quiet Kim down.

“Kim, don’t-” But Kim whirls to the room at large, paying Scully no mind.

“SOMEONE FIND AGENT MULDER!” she yells, over the music, over the hum of conversation, and every eye is immediately on them. “AGENT SCULLY’S WATER JUST BROKE!” Scully feels her face go immediately red as every guest in the room simultaneously gasps and turns to look at her. Excited murmuring is suddenly everywhere, and moments later the crowd parts, revealing a panicked Mulder and a terrified Skinner, barreling through the guests at top speed. They skid to a halt at either side of her.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” Scully insists. “We should probably just- ohhhhh….” She groans sharply and bends at the waist, as much as she’s able, clutching at her belly, as the strongest contraction she’s felt so far seizes her. Mulder takes her arm and leads her through the crowd, towards the door. Skinner follows along behind them.

“We should call an ambulance,” he suggests. “It’s been snowing for hours and the roads are getting dangerous.” Scully opens her mouth to tell him that’s ridiculous, they’ll be fine driving on their own, but another contraction rolls over her and her words die in her throat. Mulder makes a strangled noise that suggests he’s inches from panic, and as the trio leaves the apartment, borne on a wave of well-wishes from the guests, Skinner pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. Through a haze of pain, as she waddles slowly down the hallway, leaning on Mulder, Scully hears the AD calling for an ambulance, arguing with the dispatcher; then, as they reach the elevators, he hangs up in disgust.

“There are four multiple-car pileups in this part of town, because of the snow,” he says. “Every ambulance in the area is busy.”

“Don’t- need- an ambulance,” Scully grunts at him. “You drive us.”

“Me?” Skinner’s panic seems to ratchet up a notch when Scully nods.

“You’re a Vietnam veteran,” Scully says, as the contraction releases her from its grasp. “Are you telling me you’re too scared to drive a pregnant woman to the hospital?” Skinner opens his mouth to answer, but his retort dies in his throat as Scully doubles over with another contraction.

“They shouldn’t be this close together yet,” says Mulder anxiously. “This is faster than the book said it would be. What’s going on?” Scully shakes her head, unable to speak, and keeps moving, smacking the elevator button with all the force she can muster. Mulder and Skinner follow her into the car when it arrives… and as the doors slide shut, Scully suddenly feels an incredible pressure in her pelvis, accompanied by a deep, instinctual compulsion to push. She groans, leaning her back against the wall of the elevator and sliding to the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Skinner demands, as both men kneel next to her. “What’s going on.”

“Now,” Scully huffs, beginning to pant. “The baby’s coming now.” Mulder pales.

“Not now!” he says. “It can’t come now, not here!”

“Yes. NOW.” Scully insists. She begins to wiggle out of her soaked underwear, grateful for her decision to wear a dress, and Skinner hastily stands and turns his back. “Mulder,” she pants, “need you to check. If you can see. The head.” Mulder nods, terrified, and lifts her dress, peering between her legs… and he immediately falls back on his hands, his eyes wide.

“I can see it!” he exclaims, looking up at her, his eyes wide, his panic intensifying. “It’s coming! What do I do?”

“Nothing,” Scully grunts. “Guide the head- as it slips- ouuuuuuut!” The urge to push hits her hard, and she obeys immediately.

“It’s coming out!” Mulder yells excitedly, and in the corner of the elevator, Skinner looks, in spite of himself, and quickly turns away again, leaning his head on the elevator wall. “No, wait!” yells Mulder, as the contraction ends. “It’s going back in again!” He looks up at Scully. “Is that normal?”

“Mulder, you said you read this part of the book!” yells Scully.

“Six months ago, Scully!” says Mulder defensively. “And that was before having part of my brain cut out!” There’s a sudden chime, and behind Mulder, the elevator doors slide open, revealing an extremely startled older couple.

“Get the next one!” yells Skinner, slamming the button to close the doors again. At the same time, Scully is hit by the strongest urge to push yet, and she bears down, grunting involuntarily in a way that would probably have embarrassed her to no end, had she not been wholly preoccupied by the searing pain in her abdomen and pelvis.

“OH MY GOD IT’S COMING!” yells Mulder, grabbing at his hair, now almost completely out of his head. Dimly, in the apartments beyond the elevator, Scully hears people counting down. It’s about to be midnight.

“CATCH IT, YOU IDIOT!” shrieks Skinner, and thankfully, as the pain reaches an almost unbearable crescendo and Scully screams, Mulder comes back to himself and reaches down, carefully guiding the tiny, slippery form from Scully’s body. There’s a half a second of terrifying silence… and then, blessedly, the elevator is filled with the indignant cries of new life. 

Mulder sits back on his haunches, the squalling newborn in his hands. His eyes, swimming with tears, are about to bug out of his head… and Scully realizes that he’s so overwhelmed, he has no idea what to do next.

“Your shirt,” she barks at Skinner, who jumps. “Give Mulder your shirt!” Skinner stares, confused. “To wrap the baby! We don’t have any blankets or towels!” Understanding, Skinner rips off his dress shirt, not even taking the time to unbutton it all the way, and thrusts it at Mulder, who tenderly wraps it around their new daughter.

The baby’s wailing mingles with the cheers of partygoers throughout the building welcoming in the new millennium. Still on his knees, Mulder crosses the few feet to Scully’s side and places the baby in her arms. Scully hungrily takes in every detail of her, from her dark hair and button nose to her tiny fists, clenched tightly, as she manages to work her arms out from under Skinner’s shirt.

Next to them, Skinner crouches down to get a better look. “Congratulations, agents,” he says, grinning. “She’s perfect.” Mulder smiles.

“Congratulations to you, too, Uncle Walter,” he says, and Skinner chuckles, flushing with pleasure. Outside, they can hear loud, off-key renditions of “Auld Lang Syne,” and Mulder leans over and gives Scully a kiss.

“Happy New Year, Scully,” he says, and she smiles.

“Happy New Year, Mulder.”


Mulder paces up and down the hallway, bouncing the squalling baby in his arms, waiting for her cries to finally cease. Scully, still exhausted from giving birth two days ago, has just finished nursing her, and Mulder had sent her back to bed, promising that he’d calm the fussy baby so her mother could rest. Elizabeth Margaret Mulder, it’s becoming apparent, is every bit as capable as her mother is at voicing her displeasure whenever circumstances are not as they should be.

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” Mulder murmurs in the infant’s ear, rubbing her back, trying to coax out a burp, in case that’s what’s upsetting her. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Elizabeth continues crying, her tiny legs kicking in distress.

Mulder thinks back, suddenly, to his dream, the shared hallucination he and Scully had had months ago, when they had finally come to an understanding about what each of them had thought their future together should look like. He remembers the song he’d sung the baby in his dreams… and taking a deep breath, he begins singing it to Elizabeth.

Goodnight, my angel, time to close your eyes,
And save these questions for another day

The lines bring a smile to his face. If Elizabeth is anything like either of her parents, she’s likely to have nothing but questions as she grows up. He imagines, as he continues singing, all of the things their daughter will ask them, all of the arguments he and Scully are likely to have over how to answer her.

“Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay?”

Scully will have to be the one to teach her to sail, he thinks to himself. The only thing he’ll be able to teach her about boats is how to throw up over the side of one without getting anything on herself. There will be plenty to teach her himself, though… how to tell a phony picture of a UFO from the real thing, why the Yankees are far superior to the Red Sox, how to shoot a free throw. Though, he thinks to himself, wryly, Scully might actually be better at teaching Elizabeth about baseball than him.

Goodnight, my angel, now it’s time to dream,
And dream how wonderful your life will be

Elizabeth is quieting down in his arms as he reaches the end of the song, and he buries his nose in her hair, smelling her sweet scent, and closes his eyes. For the first time that he can remember, all is as it should be in his life. He has Scully, sleeping down the hall… and while Elizabeth might have derailed his plans to propose at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, the ring is still in his pocket, and he’ll have another chance soon enough… and besides, they’re a family already, more of a family than any ring or priest or judge or piece of paper could make them. 

Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby,
Then in your heart, there will always be a part of me.