Trust No One.

I think it's remotely plausible that someone might think you're hot.

[namespooky-blog]

dolcevitc:

“I wouldn’t blame him.” She glanced back, eyes flickering across the man. He was the kind of guy who got beat up at gigs like this. Professional dress, nice features, and an aura of righteousness that stuck her in all the wrong places. It was weird, though. Before Juno turned around, there had been a laugh poised on her lips, caused by a sense of camaraderie in his words. “Sweet getup. Really gives off a nice corporate drone vibe.”

Oh, did she mean lifeless? Funny. “Thought it’d go with the theme tonight.” Damn, that finely-pressed suit of his didn't seem to impress her, but that was of little surprise. They stood at odds, after all, just as expected between a rebel and the proverbial "man" she and her ilk strove to "stick it" to. “Would have worn my black suit,” Mulder continued, unperturbed as he noted the prevailing color scheme, “but I left it at the dry cleaner's today.” That said... “You must come here often.”

[namespooky-blog]

Bonjour, alien bros. I’ll be back tomorrow after work because I’m taking a few days to concentrate on art and commissions/collaborations. I see you, all my new followers!! I’ll be sure to throw Mr. Spooky your way. ;) Sit tight.

[namespooky-blog]

+ @krasinyi

There she was, tangible and real. Strange. It felt surreal somehow, the stories speaking of a woman that refused to be caught, illusive like smoke and just as dangerous...

Surely, then, it was time to anchor her here and now, wasn’t it? “I think it’s getting cold,” Mulder began in regards to her drink, taking the seat across from her. How very rude to come unannounced, sir. “Though,” he continued, “I get the feeling you’d know all about that.” The trace of something comical lingered in his voice, but his expression remained all serious. “Maybe we should ask Napoleon if the Russian winters are just as bad as he remembers.” ...And who was this? 

[namespooky-blog]

+ @maximumbyers

Well, well… He hadn’t been expecting dinner for two. Rifling through his steak fries, Mulder looked up to regard his guest with an air of curiosity. The guy hadn’t much choice, however; with a cursory look, Mulder knew every other table was filled. “Sure you don’t want to move?” Mulder asked regardless with a touch of humor. “Might spoil your meal.”

[namespooky-blog]

lcghtnxng:

“A kid, huh?” A rueful and almost bitter smile seemed to appear, tossing a glanced back at the man before turning away proceeded to great a gap of distance between them. After saving the older male from the attack. “Yeah,” He added quietly. “That’s just what I keep telling myself.” 

It was all he could manage, the words like a whisper spilling from his lips. His partner strained to listen on the other end of the line, but Mulder was gone, his attention lost now transfixed on the boy in front -- the one that magically saved him. “You knew where it’d be,” Mulder started slowly, pocketing his phone. “You know what it is, don’t you?”  It... He still didn’t know what either it or he was.

[stellagibson]

[namespooky-blog]

stellagibson:

Mulder’s ties appreciation post

[namespooky-blog]

liikelightning:

                “I saw an airplane flying pretty low a couple of hours ago… but I’m afraid I can’t help you with your UFO situation.” Namely because she was likely the one responsible for it. “Are you positive it wasn’t an airplane?”

“Not unless ET’s managed to obtain a piloting license,” Mulder replied nonchalantly, easy and good-humored. Okay, jokester, but with the way it moved, it couldn’t have been any plane. “By any chance,” he continued, pulling out a neat photo of -- by god -- a supposed flying saucer, “have you ever seen anything that looked like this?”

[namespooky-blog]

theskeptiic:

            ❛          MULDER, don’t DO THIS ! ❜

“There’s no choice, Scully. If I don’t go in there, Callaghan will come out of this as a murderer.” And all those hostages, helpless and innocent, would perish. Damn him... Righteous -- always so damned righteous.

Mulder hovered over her, a comfort in his closeness. “This is our best chance.” I’m not asking you to agree with me, but I am asking you to trust me.

[namespooky-blog]

🌸🌸 THIS IS A TUMBLR HUG! PASS IT ON TO 10 OF YOUR FAVORITE FOLLOWERS! HAVE A LOVELY DAY! 🌸🌸 ❤❤

*tries not to cry* how the fresh hell did this all happen

[namespooky-blog]

@shesboundtolose:

Lou laughed dryly, glancing at the television and back to him. “Even if it is, she’ll come. She’s a badass heroine, probably one of the best, at least where this kind of thing’s concerned.” She put her cup of coffee down, her finger tapping lightly against the side. “That line’s so old. Strange lights don’t always mean aliens.” 

Not all too endeared by his endless charm, huh? Well, no one ever said you could win them all. “No,” Mulder agreed, sipping some more of his brew -- dark and bitter. "But there’s yet to be a sensible explanation for this strange phenomenon. As of now, whatever these people saw remains classified as an unidentified flying object.” His eyes sparkled as he put his cup down with a clink, carefully enunciating, “UFO.” 

[namespooky-blog]

classiqve:

Her raised her brows in interest, an easy smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Takara gracefully folded herself into the chair opposite of the agent, making herself at home. “Literally or figuratively?” It could go either way, really. From his reputation and the looks of his office, ODDITIES were to be expected. It was all extremely fascinating – very much worth coming into contact with a federal agent. Besides, it wasn’t as if Takara hadn’t already and was currently taking precautions to conceal most of her identity.

Mischievous, wasn’t she? Of course, despite prevailing belief, Mulder was no dimwitted fool, and he expected as much as an ever enigmatic -- how to put it? -- kleptomaniac. By principle, he shouldn’t trust her, and, in truth, he still held his reservations, but, hey, at least the girl’s got humor. “You mean there’s a difference?” he returned with an answering grin, leaning back in his chair. Mulder was a bit of pest, however, so he had to wonder... “Should I be concerned?” But teasing aside, he did mean figuratively.

[namespooky-blog]

I always think of Mulder with his female partners/friends/co-workers in a platonic sense. Like, sure, he might say things that come off as “flirty,” but if you understand his humor, it’s more him being a wisecrack than behaving suggestively. He doesn’t cross that line of “something more” even if he harbors some underlying feeling because, if he screws up, he runs the risk of ruining whatever it is they have; he doesn’t want to lose that. Additionally, too, for those working beside him, making such feelings knows can be unprofessional, and he wants to keep that level of respect. Simply put, most of the time, he’s just their friend and, dare I say, one of the most trustworthy and loyal ones someone can ever have. He’s so full of feeling and cares deeply for them, keep them warm, keep them safe, always hold them, reassure them, love being with them and consistently think of them and, hell, risk life and limb for them (and has). But it doesn’t have to mean he loves them. Or, rather, he does -- he always does -- but not in the commonly understood definition of the term. Basically, Mulder feels deeply for all the women in his life, but it can’t be immediately taken in the sense that he wants to be involved with them. You can’t misconstrue it like that. He just, you know, really, really treasures them all.

[namespooky-blog]

"Nothing is impossible."

Such optimism! “Does that come with a ‘terms and conditions may apply’?” Mulder recited with frustrating ease, challenging but no less harmless. Make no mistake, the man was the very definition of a wiseass, effortlessly threading together his remarks with a characteristic grin to boot. That said, she had to be either oddly endeared or annoyed.

[namespooky-blog]

+ @sororsam

“An American pastime,” Mulder hummed as he took his seat, dressed to the nines in some dreary bar. He could’ve been speaking about the baseball game on TV, but his gaze hovered on the man further down, a shot-too-intoxicated for that tumbler of scotch. “They say,” he told the bartender, “that you can find God at the bottom of the glass.”

"In your experience, would you say that's true?" Strange... She felt so familiar. “Have you witnessed any cases of divine intervention?”

[namespooky-blog]

upchuckfactor:

     it seems that it’s gotten to that point in their quirky relationship that veronica      has no second thoughts about running up to  mulder  from  behind  and  wrapping      her arms around his body. she thought about doing  this  beforehand  and  how  it      might possibly s t a r t l e him, but in the end, she decided that whatever reaction      he could possibly give her ( unless it’s angrily shouting at  her  for  scaring  him!! )      would be vastly amusing. 

     she manages to move her head around enough to press her lips to his cheek ( in      a shameless attempt to leave a pinkish lipstick stain on his skin )  and  pull  back      with a smile. 

     ❝ hi! guess who? ❞

Now, most people here had some iota of self preservation, and in the hellish world of high school where public appearances were everything, getting “cozy” with Fox was a practical death sentence -- drama intended.

Still, how couldn’t he grin? “I have a good idea,” Mulder began, puckish and bright, “but I may need further encouragement.” Now, Veronica, do not indulge him.

“There’s the distinct scent of anarchy and rebellion in the air,” he settled, rifling through his cluttered locker. “Like teen spirit.” And something very off. Though, suspicions aside, she did smell quite lovely. “Are you wearing my favorite perfume, Sawyer?” 

[stellagibson]

[namespooky-blog]

stellagibson:

Fox Mulder + puppy-dog eyes

[namespooky-blog]

miiserably:

[ she’s a paranoid wreck of a lady, that’s for certain, but something about his   voice has her sitting down the way he wants. she turns towards him, putting   one arm along the back of the chair. ]

‘I feel like I’m being coerced.’

[ obviously this strange man isn’t going to let up, she looks back to the screen   when the room goes black and within five seconds of staring at the   photographs, she’s leaning in, sitting forward. ]

‘Where did you get these?’

[ they don’t look like her ghosts– scratch that– they do. but they’re faded,   there’s almost no shape. ]

‘Ghosts of ghosts. I don’t– I’ve– they’re so faint, you can barely                                                see them at all. Not like–’

“I find that’s often the only way I can get people to stay,” Mulder quips.

Except she hasn’t left yet, and not once has she ridiculed him. Rather, she remains here engrossed, considering and providing interesting commentary. Strange.

“Not like what?” he wonders, seeing what most others see: blurriness, something akin to ash and fading smoke. “This is a photograph taken by a Missouri woman two weeks ago. She was preparing to remodel her home when she took this shot. Last night, she was found stabbed to death in her kitchen.” 

Mulder suspects a banshee-like spirit, a warning from the victim of a similar murder, but what about her?  “Do you see something, agent?” he asks with unbridled wonder.