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I HAVE MOVED TO MY VERY OWN BLOG INSTEAD OF A SIDE BLOG!!! [ X ]

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starbuckmd:

She knows what she’s doing when she whispers to him, planning on driving him a little up the wall if only to see just how far she can push the envelope.  “Oh, a thing for red heads huh?  Well I’m sorry I’m not Ms. October.”  She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as he murmurs her name.  Oh, the tone he takes tells her everything she needs to know.  

She is sucessful.

However, his next course of action causes her to squeal, face covered in the batter she smeared on his cheek and devolved into laughter against his lips.  She’s happy, and while Scully isn’t entirely depressive, she can, without a doubt, say this is the happiest she’s ever been, and it shows in the way her kisses give way to laughter, bright eyes watching him for a moment before kissing him again, and again, before a nip comes to his lower lip,  “you had a bit of batter there…”  She grins, and then goes to bite the apple of his cheek, trailing her tongue where her teeth grazed ever so gently.  “I love you…” 

❝ You sure about that? I’m pretty sure Ms. October had a mole right about her lip, right----❞ Mulder places his finger right on her mole that he’s describing.  ❝ there. And i’m pretty sure she had blue eyes----- ❞ Okay, so maybe there was never a Ms. October, maybe it was always just Dana Scully.  

At this rate they’re not going to be making any pancakes----they’ll be feeding a whole other hunger ( one he’s not sure he can even fill ).  ❝ Oh, no, no, Ms. Oct---I mean Scully. By all means. ❞ He jokes while laughing, his face pressed against hers as he continues to rub his stubble clad cheeks against hers. Mulder manages to meet her every kiss and be as reciprocal when it comes to nipping at one another.  ❝ I know. ❞ Leave it to Fox Mulder to reply like Han Solo.     

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starbuckmd:

“You’ll be surprised to know, Mulder, that having a girlfriend, and having bedpost notches are two different beasts…” She teases again, rolling her eyes.  In a way, she knows Mulder wasn’t a womanizer (though a part of her questions that a bit).  “If getting the lava lamp for free and it doesnt match my decor, is the reward for cleaning out your hoarding stash, then I’ll have to politely decline.”

❝ Not only do I not have a bed, but I don’t have bed posts notches either----nor have I ever used that term... You sure you don’t have something you want to tell me? ❞ Mulder laughs, noting her little eye roll. ❝ Nope just a free gift----mostly to de-clutter that room! ❞

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starbuckmd:

She lets him get comfortable on the bed, making him take the tylenol before he lies down.  She’s going over her training, the years of medical school that taught her how to treat colds, fevers.  Her patients were mostly deceased.  Dead folks didn’t get fevers.   Did she have popsicles to help bring down the internal temperature?  If not, she could put him in the bath.  Anything to get the fever down…  “Rest, Mulder.”  She grabbed the thin sheet for him and pulled it over his long frame.  “I know you’re cold but the comforter will make it worse.  So the sheet is what you get.  When you start sweating and getting hot, then you can come out.”  She doesn’t plan on leaving him though, not for long.  If anything, she’s going to get on helping him the only way she knows how:  Working.  Maybe she can run bullet fragments once the body comes in.  Though that would take a few hours at best.  For now, she too was playing the waiting game.  

Instead of leaving him, she quietly padded to her dresser and finds comfortable pants before sitting on the floor beside him, back leaning against the bed with her glasses on, a pile of paperwork in her hands.

Mulder lays still for quite sometime without speaking. He’s somewhere in a limbo between freezing and burning up. While his body shakes and twists internally, his mind plays the whole scene of finding his father dead on the floor over and over—giving him no peace, no break.

Scully’s no the floor, he doesn’t have to look to know she’s there. He wants to thank her, thank her for taking care of him and doing exactly what he would and would like to be doing. Working. She doesnt have to jump down this rabbit hole with him, but he didn’t even have to ask. She just does it.

Not sure of how much time has passed, Mulder groans and rolls to his side. He’s got again, and the sheets are too much. Long legs work the sheets off of him while he moves around restless. For the last several minutes he’s come in and out of consciousness, but doesn’t quite think he’ll ever make it to sleep. “Scully…”

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starbuckmd:

“it likely ended up as a gift from one of your many women that came in and out.”  Scully jokes, rolling her eyes.  In a way, she imagines a young handsome Mulder being quit the skirt chaser in Oxford.  Though, she somewhat knows that he wasn’t as bad as she makes him out to be.  “I never had a lava lamp.”

❝ Oh come on Scully, you make me sound like a womanizer. I had one girlfriend in college. That’s it. ❞ Phoebe Green. Someone he wishes she’d never had to meet. Hell, he wishes he had never met her too. ❝ Well then it might just be your lucky day, Scully. You can have the lava lamp for free----just know it glows green and blue...and I think there’s little stars in it too.❞  

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starbuckmd:

“Thankfully, the United States Government footed the bill for the expensive dress,” she holds it to her chest with a hand across her breasts, looking over her shoulder at him.  “Thank you though,”  A soft smile, softer than the work smile she dons.  This one is sincere.  She’d blame it on the case if she needed to.

He leaves, and moments later, she pokes her head out to announce she’s skirting through to go up the stairs.  “Maybe we should decorate the wall..” She says in passing, feet pattering across the floor as she trots past, and pokes her head around the door frame.  “Coast is clear!  I’m going to go get in the bed.  You get some rest too Mulder.  Busy day tomorrow.  I hope my suitcase comes…”

Her voice trails off, though she’s still talking, “Along with some pants because going around the house with no pants on isn’t appropriate considering we arent married YET.”  She yelps the last bit, disappearing into her bedroom a moment later.

❝ You’re telling me that G Woman salary couldn’t cover that dress? ❞ He laughs. Of course it can, if you want to be broke for the next few paychecks, eat leftovers for a week, and possibly even beg on the streets. 

Mulder rounds the corner and slips into his bedroom. It too is ill decorated, though he doesn’t care that much. There’s a desk and chair for him to sit at and work though the nights he can’t sleep ( so pretty much any given night ). ❝ Yeah, I’ll let you handle that. I don’t think you’d like my decorating skills----spoiler alert, I don’t have any. Also, you think they’d at least leave little welcome gifts. A bag of seeds, some chocolate....❞ a good magazine. Stuff like that.  Mulder plops down on the bed and listens to her speak through the open door.

❝ Yeah and I hope my basketball goal comes too. ❞ He refuses to go more than a week without playing. ❝ You too, ❞ Dana’s voice begins to trail off as she heads towards the steps, he nearly has to lean off of the bed to hear her. ❝ I don’t mind it,  if you don’t mind my doing the same in the mornings...we’ve got to get that whole engaged couple thing down! ❞ He laughs and shakes his head. ❝ NIGHT! ❞  

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starbuckmd:

“Well if someone doesn’t give you any type of guidance, you’ll be left eating McDonald’s and jacking off to Ms. April.  Or May.  Or god forbid, you really liked July this year.”  She rolls her eyes, kissing the tip of his finger as he points it at her.  Of course she’s bossy.  She’s never been one to stand down from anything, or really play the submissive.  Though, in Mulder’s case, she actually does dance around with following his instructions.

Most of the time.

Okay, not really.  Considering nearly every time he’s asked her to stay put she never does it.

“Ohhhhhhhhh hoooo..” She laughs, looking at the smear of batter on his cheek, and she tilts her head.  With her tongue pushed against the inside of her lower lip, she tucks it in and bites gently…and there’s a defiant twinkle in her eye.  “Fox…” she whispers warmly, in the same tone she gave him in the bedroom.  She leans forward, eyes wide and scanning his face in a manner that is nothing but seductive, and whispers against his lips…far enough back to avoid a kiss, but enough to get the sultry meaning across.  “You should know by now that I’m quite the rebellious type…”  

Another dip of her finger in the batter.  The same whisper follows her words as she distracts him with a slow run of her heel against the back of his thigh.

“And while that authoritative tone is hot, that’s going to be a no from me.”

With that, she smears another streak across his cheek, laughing as she pulls away.

“What’re you going to do about it, Agent Mulder?”

If it’s games Dana Scully wants to play, it’s games she will get. And this one is for two. Hope she knows that competitiveness runs in his blood. ❝ For your information I don’t eat McDonald’s because I once found a dead fly on my hamburger---and  you know how I feel about bugs. And also, it was Ms. October---what can I say? I’ve got a thing for redheads. ❞ A devious grin follows, pulling from his lips as he intently watches hers.

She’s trying to kill him---that’s her little not-so-diabolical plan here. She keeps saying his name in THAT tone. The tone that makes his dick insta-hard and his heart nearly stop. ❝---Scully, ❞ watching her lips he can’t help but to lick his own. If only he could just move a little from her death grip to assault those lips. 

Mouth drops open when she smears another line of batter across his lips and he works extra hard to nip that finger as she pulls back. Each time he re opens his mouth to speak she stuns him again with something even more titillating than the last until he’s left to answer her question. 

❝ Well, Agent Scully, I think there’s only one thing I can do. ❞ Abruptly, he leans forward, smearing his face against hers until they’re both a laughing mess. His lips finally press to hers after having to wait for so long.

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starbuckmd:

As if he’d get rid of her that easily.  If he wasn’t so sick or sad, she may have just slapped the shit out of him for thinking that way.  “Mulder.”  She murmurs, sitting on the bed beside him, turning his head enough to press her forehead to his.  “Look at me, Mulder.”  She whispers, gently, coercing him back to the here and now, if only for a moment.  “I don’t care what dark path we’re going down, I’m going to be the torch guiding the way.  So if you don’t shut up with that talk, I’m…”  going to slap the taste out of your mouth.  “…going to have to prove it to you some other way.”  Like slapping the taste out your mouth.  “I’m going to get you a cold rag, you’re going to lay down, and we’re going to figure this out.  You’re too ill to do anything in this shape.  Do you understand me?”  She’s got a tone of authority in her words, lifting up from the couch to get a cold wash cloth, some motrin from the cabinet and a glass of water.  “Take this.  Put this on your forehead.  Do you want me to stay in here with you, or give you quiet to rest?”

It’s that thing she does, coaxing him into doing the right thing that really makes him trust her even more than before. She want’s what is best for him, and knows what is best for him too. Beyond that stubborn mindset of his he has to realize this. When she pulls his face to hers, resting her forehead against his ( as they do ) he closes his eyes and takes in a staggered breath----trying his best to keep it all together. But at what point does he get to let it all good? You’re not less of a man for showing emotions, Mulder, you’re more of a human than ever.  ❝ I know you will. ❞ It’s all he can manage besides a simple thank you that isn’t enough. With his head in his hands he tries to remember exactly what he saw, who he saw, and what he heard----but that fever of his is really hindering that photographic memory of his. Mulder takes the cold wash cloth from her and lays back on the bed. For once in his life sleep is calling his name, and it’s exactly the escape he wants. ❝ I’m okay, Scully. Thank you. ❞ He’s already burdened her enough for one lifetime.

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starbuckmd:

Scully can see when he shows his affection, even if he thinks it is subtle or often missed.  on the contrary, Scully simply doesn’t act on it, far too worried behind the walls of her heart that this would just end badly.  You don’t bite the hand that feeds, and you don’t get into relationships with coworkers…two cardinal rules of life, or so she thought.  Then again, what she and Mulder share now is something far past friendship and dances on the edge of something more.  She wonders how long they can go on this way, stuck in a tango of not knowing where they’re going on a more spiritual level.  

Not for long, she can imagine.  Mulder is patient, but Scully is not.

“Hm?”  She gazes up at him as she finally sits up, adjusting her shirt and sheets to make sure it covers the satin silk of her panties…as if he didn’t see it last night when he yanked her pants off of her hips.  “yes, they make your ass look fat.  That and those french fries you ate last night.”  She teases him, rolling her eyes.  If anything, he’s got a nice ass.  Squeezable.

❝Damn---I guess I’ll have to cut back. ❞ Mulder pulls his undershirt on before his dress shirt staring himself down in the mirror. ❝You know Scully, for someone who doesn’t eat as health as you do...I do have a nice body. ❞ He’s really setting her up here----all apart of his Make Dana Scully talk plan. Only taking a few more glances, he turns to face her, catching the end of that little eye roll thing she does all the time.

❝ What? I’m joking with you Scully, geez, you don’t have to go all red in the face.❞

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starbuckmd:

She wants to take the pain from him, and she can’t.  She absolutely can’t make this better for him.  For Fox, there is no taking this pain from him, and how she wishes she could.  She understands the loss of a father, though she knows his relationship with the elder Mulder was strained at best.  It still doesn’t take away that his father is dead.  His father is dead, and he had to bear witness to it.  “Sit, Mulder,” her words are quiet, trying to usher him to sit down enough to finish getting his soiled, wet clothes off of him, and she ends up crouched between his knees, her hands on his strong jaw.  She swipes at his ears softly, “Oh, Mulder…”  Her heart shatters for him, and she bites her lower lip to keep herself stoic.  “I will help you in anyway possible, you know that, Mulder.  I promise.  But you can’t fix it now….I can’t fix it now.”  Another swipe at his tears, a gentle kiss to his forehead, “You are burning up….Rest, Mulder.  Rest for now.  We’ll figure this out.  I’ll figure this out…”

His head is pounding, and he’s not sure if he’s shaking because he’s cold or if it’s just the shock settling in. There’s nothing he can do in the immediate future to solve anything----or even fix it. There will forever be a void that he can’t fill, not even with revenge ( though he might feel better temporarily ). He’s sitting down on the bed while she’s peeling the soaked material from his body. Staring at the floor just passed her shoulder almost catatonic, he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he’s been holding. ❝ I can’t drag you down this dark path with me, Scully. I don’t think there’s any going back from there. You deserve better. ❞ 

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starbuckmd:

It’s a constant push and pull, and perhaps that is the way of the universe.  They say every person is comprised of stardust….from a universe that is ever expanding and shrinking all at the same time and it is just the nature of the universe around them.  The same universe he stares at in awe with the same look he watches her with when he believes she isn’t looking…or when he believes she’s asleep, resting in the darkness in a motel room they aren’t meant to be sharing.  It stops her breath somewhere in her throat, the seeds of what she wants to say to him growing in the expanse of her ribs and suppressed by logic.  He doesn’t like you that way Scully.  That isn’t logical.  He’s only a coworker, a partner.  

Nothing more. 

But oh, Scully can only lie to herself for so long.  As he bent over, butt stretching his boxers, she reaches out with her foot to playfully “kick” him there, goosing him as she rolls her eyes.  But it does leave her a little weak, and she’s grateful to be laying down still as she takes in the broad expanse of his chest, the dark hair that matches the head of hair he keeps fluffed just right, and the dip of his obliques as they dive into his pants that hang low and loose on his hips.  He’s ….

…hot.  She’d cross herself if he wasn’t looking.

“No, I was simply naming our immediate options for food.  I’ll pass on the nabs, and I’ll wait until we’re on the road.”

There’s a simple way to express just what he’s actually thinking or feeling for her, but of course he can’t do that---he has to pick the most subtle yet complicated ways to do so. Little innuendos, jokes, under the breath comments, touches, hand holding, gazes----that’s what he does, it’s what he knows and is good at. Somewhere in that thick scull of his that never rests is his subconscious voices screaming at him to make a move, but the other voice heeds warning that any move could be the wrong move. Fox Mulder, at this point in his life, would be nothing without Dana Scully. She is his constant, his touchstone, the voice of reasoning, and quite literally the only person he can trust. She’s his partner, best friend, and his one in five billion.

maybe one day something a little more.

maybe.

❝ Scully-----I have a serious question. I noticed you were staring and all, so----do you think these boxers make my ass look fat? ❞

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starbuckmd:

“mhm, sure you are, Mulder…” She teases him, though she too knows he’s not lying.  Mostly because she can distinguish his truths from his made up bullshit.  This was one of those truths.  He is making up for lost time, one ass smack at a time.  “I know you, you do have a bossy streak.”  

She settles on the counter as he lifts her, rolling her eyes, “Mulder, I’m not that far away.  No different than any other day…Grab the chocolate chips….” She takes them from him when he does as he’s told, only to feel him settling in between her knees.  She hooks her feet loosely around his thighs, and leans up, using the back of his neck for balance to steal a kiss, fingers buried in his dark hair.  She leans back, opening the box of Bisquick and dumping it into the bowl, sputtering as the flour dust poofs up and dusts her chin.  Followed by milk and chocolate chips, she mixes it quickly, only to take a finger full of it….

….and smear it on his cheek.

❝ Me? A bossy streak? Oh come on! Have you ever heard yourself? Mulder call the office and tell them we need new sheets, Mulder pick up dinner but it better not be McDonalds, Mulder shut up! ❞ God bless him for even attempting to make his voice sound like hers---he even lifts that infamous Scully brow ( failing at it too ). 

He grins before pointing a lazy finger at her,  ❝ --- see! grab the chocolate chips! BOSSY!  ❞ He’ll do what she says with mirth, but not without giving her a hard time about it. Him doing as he’s told earns him a reward of her kisses---that he likes. a lot. Mulder watches, like a puppy, her every move. He watches as she pours the powder into the bowl, how she licks her lips in concentration, laughs when the flower dust comes up. He’s so lost in watching her that he doesn’t see the smear coming! 

❝ Dana Katherine Scully....lick it off. Now. ❞

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starbuckmd:

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Fox Mulder….”  She doesn’t believe him that he doesn’t have an old stash.  God help her, she can only imagine the stash he had in college.  “Do they still make Lava lamps?  That might be a relic, Mulder.”

❝ I’ll make you a believer then, Scully. ❞ Ah, any way to work that word in and he will. God do help her though, though his mind is quite photographic, he might be forgetting about a certain box with nothing written on it but fragile. ❝ Hell if I know, It wasn’t mine either, everything kind of just ended up in that room.❞  

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skepticreal:

HE BRINGS A SMILE TO her lips almost every time he speaks now, for mulder is one of the few that knows just what to say to lift her spirits. even in her doubts and worries regarding their son, he always manages to bring her out of it.   “ i could say the same thing about you being a father… but it’s not going to be easy, mulder. you know that, right? ”   there’s no denying the fact that danger always follows them closely, but it’ll be even worse once they have this child; it’s why scully is always worried lately.

THERE’S A COMFORT IN that smile, though he knows exactly what she’s talking about. No matter what, the darkness will always follow him. ❝ I know, Scully, but you know that I will do everything in my power to keep our child safe. ❞ He doesn’t have to say he will keep her safe, she doesn’t need that. Not the Scully who has saved his ass more times than he can count. It’s easy to say he will do everything to ensure their child’s safety, but nothing that goes wrong is apart of the plan. That he fears too.

[2moms-0fucks-deactivated2018120]

I don’t even care that they posted at the same time…

I don’t even care about her hair…

Or how “hot/attractive” they look…

Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny just made a HUGE political statement while working and dressed as their characters…….who are owned by FOX.

Let that sink in a little bit….

[gillianaofficial]

#TheXFiles #TakeAKnee

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#TakeAKnee 

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starbuckmd:

Come what may.  She will hold his hand and face whatever comes their way.  That much she is certain of.  Because this has been a long time coming, building and building, and finally with a playful kiss filled with static electricity and emotion, the tension gave way like a rubber band pulled so taut it breaks free of it’s bonds.  

“Now I know just how to get to you,” She gives a soft snort, a laugh lost somewhere between kisses before his stomach speaks and sings to her the hungry song, demanding to be fed.  She does groan, however, almost in protest at the idea of leaving the warmth of the bed, the sheets tangled from their romp and roll only a short while ago.  She fixes his shirt she wears, and lets it dust her thighs, only to jump when he swats her ass.  With a toss of her shortish hair, she looks over her shoulder with a grin, “Someone is asserting their dominance early.  I’ll cook the pancakes….if you’ll help me mix the batter.”  She’s so small when she’s not wearing her heels, petite framed and short stature, she’s almost dwarfed next to him, but she doesnt mind it in the least, taking his hand and guiding him through the house to the kitchen where she begins getting the supplies out of the cabinets.

A devious grin spreads from his lips, proud of how quickly sharp she is.  ❝ Oh, no. Not asserting any dominance, just----you know---- making up for too many lost years. ❞ his voice drips of sarcasm, though he’s not lying. Too many lost years to make up for ( though not all in one night--- he knows that ). 

❝ I’m sure I can manage that. ❞Pulling on only his sweat pants, the two venture down to the kitchen where he helps by reaching for the bowls high up in the cabinets that she can’t possibly reach, and grabbing whatever ingredients that are called out his way. With everything laid out on the counter, he turns and grabs Scully, lifting her onto the counter.  ❝ There, I feel like I couldn’t see you down there---plus, we’ve got to mix the batter first, right? ❞ He stands right in front of her, between her parted legs, the bowl between the both of them.