#agentmreyes

[basichumanform]

       stella feels broken, damaged, UNLOVABLE. paul spector has utterly wrecked her. she’d tried, for a week or so, to stay in london. but it isn’t working. her superiors have noticed, and as such have told her to take some time off. monica’s was the first and only place she could think of to go. OF COURSE, as soon as stella knocks on the door, she’s already nervous. what if monica doesn’t want her here ? what if she’s moved on ? STIFF UPPER LIP, GIBSON. she tries to steady herself, and gives the brunette a shaky smile when she opens the door. ❝ monica... ❞ her name is a breath of relief on her lips. she’s so happy to see her. ❝ HELLO. ❞

                     { @agentmreyes }

[agentdoggettarchive]

@agentmreyes ( continued ) 

“i look like a decrepit mall santa.” no, he hasn’t seen his reflection. yes, he just knows. “are we wearing this on cases? we’re gonna be the laughing stock of whatever forest we’re sent to.” but he hasn’t taken the hat off. he hasn’t even moved the pom pom, which is saying something, because it’s tickling his neck. 

“i just need one of those little candles on a dish and i could be scrooge.” 

[gatekeepcr]

"    ——   shit.    "    she mumbles when her shoulder clips the person walking the opposite direction in the gas station aisle ,  knocking her hat and sunglasses askew.  she quickly readjusts , straightening her clothing and turning to glance over her shoulder ,  hoping no one was looking.  gaze flits back to the other ,  "   sorry bout tha ——   oh ,   monica ,   i . . ."   she wants to shrink into the floorboards.   she needs to disappear.   she’s being recognized in an nevada gas station ,  and that’s no good for anybody.   monica of all people ,  had the ability to sound the alarms ,  to have her in cuffs in seconds.   maybe she hadn’t seen the alert.  maybe she’d let gemma leave ,  or she wouldn’t recognize her.  "  i need to go . . .  "  she probably looks suspicious ,  scared at the very least. / @agentmreyes

[starbuckskeptic-a]

✥ gimmie

songs that remind me of our muses // @agentmreyes

daisy - zedd

Daisy, don't you know that you're amazing?Broken heart just keeps on breaking, DaisyAnd I would take the light out of the stars to help you seeAnything to guide you straight to meLet me show you how a kiss should tasteTrust me, I won't give your heart awayWhy you running, running when you got it right here?Oh, I would love you if you let me

[agentdoggettarchive]

mistletoe , oN ACCIDENT FUCK ME UP

cautious. 

he’s so cautious he might as well be tip-toeing on glass. little sirens going off in his head. he wants. god, but he does. he wants, a sprig of mistletoe is not how he wants this to go. he wants .... something else. that chance in the car he didn’t take. 

but he’s not going to leave her standing here. not going to make her feel like something’s wrong. he steps forward, towards her, and kisses her quick enough that she can step away if she wants to. he wants to linger and doesn’t do it. 

a couple fingers move to brush a few stray hairs behind her ear, and he presses a second kiss to her temple. this one lingers. 

“merry christmas, monica.” 

[agentdoggettarchive]

Something illuminated in the darkness.

she does not shine a light in the horrible darkness of luke’s murder. 

but then again, no one can. 

on what turns out to be one of the worst days of dana’s life, he sits next to monica on the sofa, her head tipped back against the couch. a few rooms over there is a man who may or may not be mulder, but right now there is this. monica, not smiling, and his fingers twisting the ends of her hair until she’s almost asleep. 

she says: die on our feet. 

but no one’s ever been able to shine a light here. 

( later: memory, returning. brilliant rays of light that sit alongside the darkness, and he was right. this is his. 

later: he falls asleep on the plane with his head on her shoulder, and doesn’t dream. ) 

luke’s ashes, spread in the ocean, nine years after the fact. 

with his face in her shoulder, it’s not light, but maybe: warmth. 

in the aftermath, he makes coffee. sits, silent, in the abandoned office that is no longer theirs and passes her a mug. john tries not to think of them, but it’s an insurmountable task. ( they’re gone. they’re safe. he’s quiet for a long time. ) 

[starbuckskeptic-a]

( drapes self over )

       ❝ monica ! hi ! ❞ fingers card lightly through the other’s hair and her face lights up. ❝ how are you ? sleep well ? ❞

@agentmreyes

[agentdoggett]

❛ i would much rather eat potato chips on the sidewalk. ❜

“see, now that just hurts my feelings. here i am, offering kebabs and company, and you’re sitting on the sidewalk like a nine year old who’s discovered chalk.”