#ahh beans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edierone · 2 years ago

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I posted 2,707 times in 2022

That's 432 more posts than 2021!

34 posts created (1%)

2,673 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@baronessblixen

@ellivia

@enigmaticxbee

@cock-holliday

@basementskylight

I tagged 2,690 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#😂 - 51 posts

#why is she so - 42 posts

#😭 - 39 posts

#leiascully 5 evah - 34 posts

#help immediately - 26 posts

#ohohoho yesss - 22 posts

#these two assholes - 21 posts

#how is this a real person - 19 posts

#your honor i love her - 18 posts

#always reblog long ginger scully - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#10 yrs younger officemate who finall worked up the courage to ask what was in that heavy black bag i disappeared with 2x/day

My Top Posts in 2022:

I was just re-reading The Things She Carries and wanted to tell you how fantastic it is. You capture them and their dynamic incredibly well. Also I’ve been reading XF fanfic for 25 years and I think this is one of the best explanations for Mulder’s sometimes shitty behavior toward Scully in post-cancer-arc. Head cannon accepted. Thank you for your service. 👏

oh my goddy goddy godd, I have no idea how old this ask is, but whoever you are and whenever you sent this, I love and appreciate the hell out of you!!! Folks, if you're interested: The Things She Carries

13 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

The Fox and the Wolf

Chapter 1 of 2

[AN: Y’all, this will not be everyone’s cup of tea. Inspired by a long-ago anon sent to someone else here that suggested Mulder had had his first sexual experience WAY too young, with a grown woman who absolutely and knowingly took advantage of his loneliness and need. It is in no way explicit, but please take seriously my tw: grooming tag. Read on AO3 here.]

He was fourteen that summer, and hungry — hungry all the time. He ate enormous breakfasts, scarfed any food anyone offered him, made himself stacks of sandwiches before lunch was served, took three-quarters of whatever was on the table at dinner, stood in front of the refrigerator grazing on cold brisket and drinking milk straight from the bottle when his growling stomach woke him at midnight.

His mother never said anything about it to him outright, but he got the sense that she thought it was unseemly, this boundless appetite of his; she’d never been, or raised, a teenage boy before, and he could tell she saw his literal insatiability as somehow tied to other ill-bred, unbound desires. It was common, base — as if he were an uneducated laborer, someone who hadn’t been raised to know which fork to use for the fish course (or even when the fish course should appear in the meal).

But he didn’t start hiding it until he overheard her tell a neighbor over coffee one afternoon, “My girl Elena barely gets the shopping brought into the house before Fox has emptied all the bags himself. It’s as if we’re running an indigent pantry out of our own kitchen.” The disapproval, the scorn, the hesitation and dropped voice before the words “indigent pantry” — he got the message, loud and clear.

After that, he made sure to cover his tracks: He’d have dinner at Paul’s house, where they ate earlier than most, then go home for dinner at his own; slip a $10 out of his mother’s purse to buy two footlong subs and a two-liter of Coke at the deli grocery down by the shore and eat them all himself on the walk home; go with Chrissy Edgar to her church youth group just for the spaghetti supper; lie and say that Elena must have only gotten one loaf of bread instead of three this week.

He just couldn’t help it — he’d shot up from 5’4” to 6’0” in less than a year, for one thing, and spent all his time playing basketball or running; he burned to make the JV team as a freshman this fall, with the vague idea it might impress his parents. And girls, too; Chrissy Edgar wouldn’t let him touch her, and unfortunately Cheryl Tiegs didn’t know he existed (although the poster of her on the back of his bedroom door saw plenty of him).

But he would try — ignored and filled with free-floating need, he would nonetheless try to rein himself in.

————————

One Tuesday in late June, sidewalks shimmering in the 90 degree heat and the sea breeze nowhere to be found, he ordered two double cheeseburgers, two shakes, and a family-size fries at the Burgess Farm Restaurant, planning to pay with another $10 he’d cadged from his mom’s stash in the linen closet. But maybe it fell out of his shorts on the run there, or maybe he’d already spent it? Either way, he didn’t have it, and the dead-eyed kid behind the counter was getting bored of waiting. His stomach grumbled loudly — a cute girl at a table nearby laughed with her friends and turned away. He was actually on the verge of tears from the humiliation and the hunger.

“Fox, dear, did you forget your wallet? Never mind, I’ll take care of it.”

A lady’s voice right behind him, then materializing next to him at the counter — Taffy? Tammy? He can’t remember — he’s only met her a few times, and that was years ago, when his mother was on the local parks board and he was in elementary school.

She was a vision in hip-hugging white pants and some sort of clingy pale blue top, long dark hair pulled into a sleek low ponytail, gigantic diamond ring glittering on her left hand. Her bright green eyes, full of good humor, looked him up and down. “Tabitha Welliver, darling — call me Tabby. Your mother and I … used to know each other.” Her look — wry, knowing — reminds him of why she hasn’t been around in awhile; the fight over park usage permits by “outsiders” had gotten pretty ugly near the end. “Heavens, though — you’ve certainly grown since then.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, thank you, Ta — uhhh, Mrs. Welliver,” he stammers, accepting the armful of food she hands him, feeling his cheeks tingle with an embarrassing flush; caught penniless, and caught fighting off a woody for no damn reason at all, he’s not sure which is worse.

“I can, uh. I can pay you back —” His voice cracks on the last word and he wants to die.

She laughs, patting him on the head; she has to reach up to do it. “You certainly will not! This is my treat. When my stepdaughters were your age, every boy they brought home was always on the verge of starvation — no matter how much they ate! Don’t you dare give it a second thought.”

He mumbles some thanks, desperate to get out before anyone else he knows shows up, but genuinely warmed by her matter-of-fact generosity.

“You know what you could do, though?” She’s gently steering him to the exit, apparently having forgotten her own order.

“Ma’am?”

“Come by my house anytime you’re hungry — I’m all by myself this summer, George is in Japan working on another deal, and his daughters are all in Europe doing god knows what. My housemaid makes more food than I could ever eat — save me from wasting all that, won’t you?”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he repeats, “Ma’am?”

“Oh, don’t call me ma’am, please, Fox! Tabby, or Tabitha if you must. It’s the big white brick house with the green trim, just on the far side of the hill — I spend the afternoons on the porch with a book, most days. Come by anytime, really dear, anytime. You need fattening up!” She laughs again, as if they’re both in on the joke.

He nods dumbly, knowing he will not at all ever do that. She touches his cheek with a fond, indulgent smile, then watches him go, calling after him, “Wonderful to see you again, Fox!”

He’s intensely embarrassed, later, when an unbidden image — Tabitha-in-the-blue-top — manages to blot out the lovely Miss Tiegs in the nightly round of what his mother calls “self-abuse,” but he hopes his mental apology to her, after, will be enough to clear his conscience — and that he’ll never think of her that way again.

——————————————————

The next Saturday is a bad one in his house. His mother sleeps late, then complains of a vicious headache and spends the day sniping at him: He needs a haircut, no he can’t go play basketball at the school and never mind why, that Chrissy Edgar girl is too fast and obviously headed for a bad future, how on earth can one person eat an entire pot roast, she wished she had at least one child who didn’t leave the bathroom looking and smelling like a livestock-grooming business.

Finally he says he’s going for a run and doesn’t wait for permission. It’s close to sundown as he starts out, going a little too fast on the fuel of the day’s anger and irritation. He runs to the shore, turns back on a different road, takes a big loop to avoid anyplace his friends might be (the two-screen movie theater, the ice cream store, their own neighborhood). He’s slowing, finally, as he leans into the long uphill of Center Street; his watch says he’s been running for an hour, which means probably he’s done somewhere around eight miles. And now it’s full dark and he isn’t sure how far he is from home.

He pauses by a wrought-iron fence in a rich-looking neighborhood, stretching his quads and calves, wondering whether to try to find a phone to call his mom, or just start walking and get there when he gets there. His sweaty shirt is starting to make him feel clammy in the night breeze, and all of a sudden the good exhaustion of the run is gone, replaced by the sadness he spends a lot of his time running from.

“Fox, is that you?” A voice calls from nearby.

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15 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

ok if we’re doing thanksgiving, might as well throw this ‘un out there again 🫠

Until Tonight; Until tonight. (529 words) by Edie_Rone Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Dana Scully/Other(s) Characters: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, OC (mentioned Additional Tags: AU, what if Scully quit after she was returned from her abduction, Thanksgiving, Glenmorangie Summary: On Thanksgiving eve, many years after she'd quit the Bureau and moved on with her life, a widowed Dana Scully remembers the man she'd tried to forget.

18 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

Appendicitis - 2022’s first gift to me! ☹️

18 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

out-of-touch show creators be like uuunnnhh eeunnnhh everybody hated my revival series my brother in christ you wrote that shit

43 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #ahh beans #this really is a place huh #sorry it’s a long post #all the kids’re doin it

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