mother: anything

Have I ever been more to you? Have I ever been more than that dull girl who lived in the same apartment building and went to the same school? Have I ever meant anything beyond a stranger who cared too much, and knew too much? Have I ever been anything? You’re probably wondering why I’m asking this if I know the answer. Of course not, I have been nothing. I have been worthless to you. Merely a fleeting raindrop in the raging storm. A grain of sand on a beach that stretches out for miles. A piece of trash, easily to discard. A stranger in a crowd of millions of others. I am not even exaggerating. I was really that unimportant to you, wasn’t I?
—  b.d. // excerpt from a book i’m writing #2

Michael Jackson: Human knowledge consists not only of libraries of parchment and ink - it is also comprised of the volumes of knowledge that are written on the human heart, chiseled on the human soul, and engraved on the human psyche.


Originally posted by whatabigpairofgifs

Michael: That’s a sad chicken.


Originally posted by whatabigpairofgifs


Matilda: Speaking of clothes! My dad’s bringing me shopping this weekend! At the mall! So, when can I pick you up?

Tori: Uh… Sorry, Matilda but I’m really busy this weekend. I have a lot of Math homework… You’ll have to go without me. 

Matilda: What!! But you gotta come! You’re my only friend with good fashion sense! 

Tori: Geez, Matilda… Just go with Ell or Tam..

Matilda: Ew, no!! I can’t do that! Tamara has the fashion sense of a dead person! I can’t pick out clothes with her!

Tori: Look, could you just not touch my- 

Matilda: And Ell has the fashion sense of a middle aged woman! She wore this shirt that looked like it belonged to my mom! 

Tori: I thought that shirt looked good on her… 

Matilda: Please, Tori! You gotta shop with me! 

Tori: Jesus Christ, alright!! I’ll try.. Man, what is wrong with you?

Matilda: Yay! Thank you, Tori! You’re the best!

Tori: Yeah… Look, how about we get our mind off of things and answer questions while we walk home. 

Matilda: Sounds fun! 


Alien Baby Baby Mama

They were in that gentle sweet spot before past lives and Leonard Betts and Ed Jerse and after the Howlers. 

“So… Scully. Happy hour?” The week had been monotony plus one.  Full of paper work and travel claims.

She sighed, massaging that sore spot that’d developed lately, where the Howlers lay. 

“Yeah. Yeah… I could do with a glass of white, honestly.”

They sat on the patio at a small taco spot hours later.  Light-weights and punch drunk. 

“You don’t ever want to slow down, Mulder? We’re barreling down the highway at 110 all the time. It’s exhausting.”

He pursed his lips, shrugged, sipped his Dos Equis.  "I just… My life has never really yielded itself to slowing down, Scully. I’ve been racing since I was 12.“

She nodded contemplatively.  "Don’t you think about it though? You’ve got to. You’d be a great Dad, Mulder.”

He shakes his head a bit like a wet dog.  "A great Dad?!“

She shrugged nonchalant. “Yeah. I mean. There’s at least a 50 percent chance your kid will be half alien, but…”

He snickered and buried his face in his mug.  "You’re one to talk.“

She shouldered him.  "What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mulder stood and tossed some twenties on the table.  He winked lecherously. “It means that if I’m going to have an alien baby… well…. you can be my alien baby baby mama any time Scully.” He hip shoved her as he walked by. “I’m grabbing a cab. Seeya tomorrow.“ 

"Mul… wha… wai…” Scully never could tell if he was kidding when they drank.  She never could tell if he was serious on pain killers. Mulder confessions were few and far between and padded with intoxicants.

And four years later, pregnant with his son and with him under six feet of rock and dirt, she will wonder just how serious he was. About all of it.