#kateyes224

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Three Words More by @kateyes224

Read by @msrtheatre0223

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[lilydalexf]

👽 Random X-Files Fic Rec

The world is a better place for having this image of Mulder and Scully enjoying a perfectly lovely morning at the unremarkable house. Title: Firewood Author: kateyes224 (@kateyes224) Summary: Some autumn fluff, written for @leiascully's Octoberficfest challenge. Length: 989 words Classification: autumn fluff Rating: Not rated Spoilers: None listed (but: I Want to Believe) Favorite line: I swear to God, though, if you take down a tree and release any of those glowing green bugs on our property, I’m leaving you. Read the story!

[leiascully]

@kateyes224 replied to your post “@kateyes224 replied to your post “I feel like Mulder and Scully need...”

And maybe that's why Scully's place in S11 seemed like...*so wrong* but also so right for her? It's not at all her, but it's not at all them, it was so sterile and awful and the opposite of everything her 90s apartment and the UH were that it actually makes a weird sort of sense? I don't knowwwwww it all makes so much sense and also no sense at all.

I HATED that house for exactly those reasons, but it did make sense.  Like yeah, of course she has a weird house that looks too modern for comfort and has a weird pond (?) in the front next to the sidewalk.  It’s entirely the opposite of everything else.  It’s a physical marker of the emotional changes she’s been through.  But also it’s the worst.  Where’s the history?  Where’s the nuance?  Where’s the sense of esoterica?  It’s like a house with no books in it.  I don’t trust it.  I know Mulder and Scully’s apartments didn’t have a lot of bookshelves, but they carried the knowledge inside them and we always saw papers and files spread around their houses.  Scully’s house looks like a showroom.

[ladybingley]

@kateyes224 replied to your post “i finally watched sanditon, and … unpopular opinion but i actually...”

I LOVED IT but I feel like I was the only one who found myself shipping Charlotte and James Springer? I wasn't ever fully invested in Charlotte/Sidney just because I found him to be pretty volatile and kind of a dick?

yeah! i felt that too! asdfghjkl as you said sidney, was in fact so volatile! more than once he was rude and screamed with charlotte in such a way ... idk. I feel like i could have liked him, if they would just work those aspects of his personality in a different way? i don't know what to think of a man that treats you badly and then say he's sorry, screams at you and then say he's sorry, screams at you AGAIN only to say he's sorry again... i would simply not trust him you know? james by another hand, was always kind, and respectful and sweet, and i think james deserves our attention asdfghjk  

[mldrgrl]

A randoms words prompt for you, love: Striped, throat, muddled, heady, bath As usual, use one, use all, use none. Just hoping they inspire you. Xo.

Thank you, I needed that.  I call it, Divide and Conquer.  A post-En Ami drabble.

thoughts are muddled as she turns every which way in the empty office that had only days ago been swarming with people.  She knows now that everything about the weekend was staged for her benefit, but how?  Was there no end to what that cigarette smoking bastard would do?  

“Mulder, I…”

“Don’t.”  

She watches him walk away from her, watches him disappear down the hall and leave her behind.  She has to wonder if this elaborate ruse was even about a disc or if it was something much more insidious.  

When she pushes open the exit door to the abandoned parking lot, she doesn’t expect to find Mulder waiting for her, but he is.  The car is already running and he’s slumped against the door plucking at his lower lip.  He doesn’t look at her when she slips quietly into the passenger seat, but waits until she latches her seatbelt to drive.

Never has silence felt so loud.  It takes twenty minutes for him to take her home, but it seems interminable.  She can only count the streetlamps that send striped bands of light sliding up the windshield in slow succession and try not to cry.  There are a hundred and ninety four streetlamps between the abandoned office and home.  Who knew?

Mulder does not shut the engine off when he double parks in front of Scully’s building.  He’s not coming up with her, that much is clear.  She still hesitates as though they’re playing that game that ended months ago where she’d bashfully ask if he wanted to come up for awhile and he’d pretend he was surprised by the invitation.  Her fingers absently graze the side of her neck where he’d kissed her goodbye on his way to the office only a few days ago.

Finally, she fumbles for the door handle and steps out of the car, one foot at a time, knees weak.  She doesn’t remember getting from the car into her apartment, only that one moment she was there and the next she was running a bath, sitting in the darkness of her bathroom next to a single flickering candle.

Suddenly, she shivers, and pulls at her clothes.  She wants them off and wants them out of her sight.  They smell of smoke.  It’s in her skin and in her hair.  Her stomach rolls.  Naked and shivering, she crawls into the embrace of hot water and slides down, down, down until she’s fully enveloped.

When she comes up for air, the smoke is gone and there’s only the scent of geranium oil.  Eventually, she stops shivering.  Eyes closed, she lets her arms relax and float at her sides.  This is what she needs - to clear her mind and to think of how to correct the damage that’s been done.

She’s so still that there’s nary a ripple in the bathwater, nor a drip from the faucet.  In the quiet, her ears detect the soft scrape of shoes against carpet and she braces her hands on the lip of the bathtub and opens her eyes.  She smells him first, that heady brand of cologne announcing his presence before he softly calls her name.  Relieved, she relaxes into the sloped back of the tub with a sigh.  

“In here,” she answers, just above a whisper.

He fills the doorway, a dark figure in shadows, but she can see his shining cheeks in the glow of the candlelight.  He steps inside and after a deep breath, deflates little by little to the floor, first with his knees to the bathmat, then to all fours, and finally with his cheek leaning against the side of the tub.  He puts his hand up next to hers, close, but not touching.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” he says.

“But, I do,” she whispers.

Their eyes meet.  He lowers his gaze for only a second and then looks back up at her before he nods.  His lips push together and for a moment she’s afraid he’s going to ask her to forgive him.  She silently implores him not to.  He holds a breath instead and sweeps his thumb a little closer to her hand.

“I won’t let him break us,” he says.

“I won’t either.”

She waits a few moments and then she reaches her pinkie finger up and over his thumb.  He curls it into hers, holding on.

The End

[lepus-arcticus]

Hi, angelface. Thanks for all the hard work you've put into Omens. It's absolutely fantastic and has actually lit a fire under my ass to return to my own sorry, neglected Google docs and putz around. I hope you realize how FREAKIN AMAZING YOU ARE. Also I'm hitting 731 right now. Thanks for the suggestion! Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox!

glhsdg that makes me so happy to hear!!! I miss your words!! Thanks for the spot of encouragement, honey bee. I really appreciate it! ♥️♥️♥️

[myassbrokethefall]

Can I just tell you...I really appreciate you? Your content and wit add so much to my enjoyment of this stupid alien show and my experience of it on Tumblr.

You sweetheart. I appreciate you too! You’re a bright light in this vast blue land of (justified) complaining. 

(Me cradling your face with my large meaty hands)

[startwreck]

Sometimes you just gotta buy an entire row of seats to personally fly a signed copy of @syntax6 ‘s latest 3500 miles and hand deliver it to @kateyes224