#bill scully

[aloysiavirgata]

Unremarkable house, Brother Bill, rooster

Mulder is in the big hammock out back, sprawled like a Roman Emperor. The chickens are out, pecking for bugs among the goat droppings. He has a lemon shandy in a frosty glass. He has a tomato sandwich with tomatoes from their garden and homemade bread. He has Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell next to him.

He has misgivings.

Scully enters his field of view, stage left, “Mulder, you’d better put those damn chickens away before he gets here, especially Francisco. That rooster is a complete menace.”

She glares at the enormous bird. They’ve had a few scuffles, she and Francisco. There have been Band-Aids and three stitches.

He slurps at his drink. “You don’t think your brother wants to see my big cock?”

She is silent for a long moment. Then, “I swear to God I will literally kill you, Mulder. I will shoot you and I will bury you out here and I will put a big gazebo over your grave and every time I sit in it I will think about how much you had it coming.”

She stalks back to the house.

“Jesus,” Mulder says to the chickens. “Someone is in a mood.”

***

It’s an awkward greeting, but not as awkward as he’d imagined. He and Bill have always hated each other, which makes it easy to pick up where they’d left off, like two enemy pirate captains running into one another at a bar in Tortuga.

Bill, per usual, looks like he was waiting for the Dulcolax to kick in. Douchebag plaid shorts that Rob Petrie wouldn’t have touched with a ten foot golf club.

He sweeps his sister up in a massive hug and she got rather teary and Bill, to his credit, looks a bit pink around the eyes and nose as well. He puts his sister down after a moment, smoothing her hair.

Bill and Mulder then acknowledge one another’s undeniable existence on the material plane. Shake hands like sulky but well-mannered children after a baseball game.

***

Now they’re on the deck while Mulder tends the grill, three gorgeous steaks from a neighbor’s cow before him.

“It’s beautiful out here, Dana,” Bill says.

“Mostly Mulder’s doing,” Scully replies, sipping at the wine her brother had brought. “He’s honestly a wizard with this property.” She glances at him when she says it and he smiles back.

“Really?” Bill says. “Well, color me impressed. Mulder, I had no idea you were such an adept little homemaker.”

Mulder moves the steaks to a serving platter. “Oh, sure. Dana just uses me for cooking, yardwork, and sex.”

Bill chokes on his beer and Scully closes her eyes for a beat the way Anne Boleyn must have when they led her from the Tower.

Mulder sets the platter on the table, uncovers the potato salad and the asparagus. Sourdough rolls and goat-milk butter.

“Now Bill,” he says, “you tell me if that steak is too rare and I’ll pop it right in the microwave for you. Let me know if you need anything else, some A-1 or ketchup or anything at all. I want you to feel at home.”

Absolute daggers in Scully’s eyes.

Bill coughs lightly. “Everything looks fantastic, thank you both.”

“It was good of you to make the drive, Bill,” Scully says, loading up plates with food. “I know it’s a bit of a haul.”

Bill smiles indulgently. “Couldn’t be this close to my kid sister after so long and not swing by!”

“Though we would have understood,” Mulder says, warmly. He butters a roll and passes it to his brother in law. “Never feel obligated.”

Bill narrows his eyes as he accepts the bread. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to need some new pictures of the kids,” Scully says brightly. “Matthew must have grown six inches since that school photo you sent, Bill! And Mom says Claire has lost two teeth.”

“I’ll tell Tara to send some,” Bill says, puffing up.

They eat in silence for a time. Knives cutting through the tender steaks and stabbing into waxy potatoes and young asparagus. Butter dripping down chins.

“It’s a shame William isn’t growing up here,” Bill says, wiping his plate with another roll. “Dana, how could-“

Her fork clatters to her plate and he shuts up.

A roaring silence like an event horizon.

“Bill,” Scully says, sweetly. “We have the most beautiful rooster to show you.”

[cecilysass]

Honest Man (3/3)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 3

When it’s obvious Bill is down for the count, Mulder follows Scully back out into her living room. She doesn’t pause to look or speak to him. She marches straight into the kitchen and begins to wordlessly fill up a glass of water at the sink.

“Scully,” he begins, unsure of what he’s about to say.

“Sounds like you’ve had an exciting evening,” she interjects crisply.

“Yeah. Exciting.” He steps sideways to attempt to gauge her expression, but she’s facing the sink.

“You gave Bill marital advice?”

“Yeah, I–” Mulder shrugs. “I did. He asked. I guess he and Tara had a fight. I, uh, wasn’t sure what to say, but he insisted. I did the best I could.”

She watches the water glass fill with laser focus. “Then I guess I’ll know how to explain it to Mom if they end up divorcing,” she replies without affect.

“Yeah,” Mulder says glumly.

“Thank you for driving him here tonight,” she says formally.

“Uh, of course.”

“Apparently it ruined some plans.”

“Scully,” he says plaintively. “It wasn’t … a date.”

She turns from the sink to regard him frostily, and he feels like he’s lying to her, although he isn’t. “It wasn’t,” he repeats.

She looks like she wants to say something, but thinks better, pinching her lips together. She sets the water glass on the counter.

“Bill thought I was on a date, but I wasn’t,” he adds.

She turns around, showing her back to him again, to close the cabinet. Then she rests her palms on the countertop, appearing to closely study the design of her own kitchen shelving.

Her small, silk-covered shoulders rise and then fall.

“You know, I bet I can guess this story,” she says in a strange, distant voice. “You met up with Diana Fowley after work because she had some important information about the X-files that she said she had to share right away. On a Friday night. Over drinks.”

He sighs. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Of course, you didn’t mention this work-related meeting to me this afternoon at work.”

“No, you’re right. I didn’t.”

She doesn’t move, her back still to him. He suspects she intended to place the glass of water on the bedside table next to Bill, but she doesn’t touch it again. She just leans against the countertop, as though collecting herself.

Mulder knows she’ll be angry at what he says next.

“Diana asked me to do some unofficial fieldwork for the X-files. She thinks if I do, if she can put it together into a convincing report—”

“She can request you back on the X-files,” Scully finishes, her head bobbing up and down in a knowing nod. “As her partner. Right?”

“Right,” Mulder says, a lump in his throat. “Exactly.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Scully turns around now, and with a jolt he sees there are tears streaming down her face, though her expression is neutral.

“We both know what’s going to happen,” she says flatly.

Mulder is dumbfounded. “Do we?”

“Of course,” she says sharply. “You’ll do it. You’ll be her partner. It’s what you want, isn’t it? You told me what your priorities were on our first case. The X-files come before anything and anyone else. I know perfectly well that includes me.”

Mulder is appalled to hear his own words cited back to him like that. It’s not an especially pretty picture she presents, of a man so single-minded, so disloyal that he would so predictably toss aside his partner of six years, his best friend.

“I’m sure she made all kinds of implicit promises to help assuage any discomfort you might have.” Scully’s words grow venomous, full of more overt anger than she normally reveals. “She offered to give you a little more than just the X-files, too, didn’t she? She made it very hard to refuse? Made you feel like you wouldn’t be lonely?” She places her hands over her face in apparent regret. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “That’s … unnecessarily petty of me. I’m not thinking straight.”

Mulder shifts weight from one foot to another, watching uncomfortably as she hides her face. He isn’t sure he should tell her that her guess about Diana was so on target.

“Scully, she expressed concern for your career,” he points out gently instead. “She argued that you would be able to get a better placement in the Bureau. Which is true, and something I wish you would think about.”

Scully lets her hands drop from her face and looks at him incredulously. “Is that what she said?”

“Yes,” Mulder says, “and while it’s true that—”

“Mulder,” she interrupts with a bitter laugh, “you’re fortunate that violent criminals are usually men, because you can be truly terrible at profiling women.”

He’s taken aback. “Am I terrible at profiling Diana? Or am I terrible at profiling you?”

She looks up at the ceiling, considering for a moment, then drops her gaze down to meet his eyes again defiantly. “Both.”

He feels something crucial is being lost in this conversation. He’s getting this wrong, for sure. “It’s not like I told Diana yes.”

She smiles humorlessly. “You didn’t tell her no either, did you?”

“Well … I didn’t say those words, no.”

“So, what, you did an interpretive dance?”

Brushing past him out of the kitchen, she speeds into the living room, Bill’s glass of water apparently forgotten. Mulder follows behind her.

“Listen,” she continues in a different, more placating tone, “I’m not angry. Not really. You’ve always been upfront about who you are.” She turns to look at him with a sad smile. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

She means this to be conciliatory, but it’s like she spit in his face. That familiar feeling burns in his chest, his old friend from boyhood: shame.

“No,”’ he says urgently, “you should expect something else. You can’t just think that I— I’m not just…. you don’t get it at all.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Look,” he says earnestly, “back when we first started to work together, I didn’t understand that you and I were going to…”

Scully groans, collapsing into a chair in her living room, her head flopping into her hands. “Oh god, I really don’t want a speech like this.”

“What? I just want to explain.”

“I don’t see what there is to explain.” He watches her trembling fingers swiping a fresh round of tears away, and he scrambles to sit on the couch across from her.

“Scully—”

“Look,” she says, smoothing her hair back, visibly calming herself down. “It’ll be okay. Really. I don’t need a partner breakup talk.” Her voice wavers a little. “I’ll probably go back to Quantico. I’m sure after a while you could even consult with me on cases. I might need a little time to adjust first.”

“I haven’t—”

“And I don’t want to talk to her, Mulder. Only you,” adds Scully fiercely as an afterthought. “I don’t trust her. You shouldn’t either.”

“Jesus, I’m not going to do it, Scully,” he manages to get out. “I wouldn’t … I couldn’t do that.”

She looks uncertain for the first time in the conversation. “You’re … really not?” she says.

He shakes his head emphatically.

She regards him quizzically. “So you plan on turning her offer down entirely?”

“Of course.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah, soon,” he shrugs. “I mean, what can I say?” He attempts a charming smile. “I’m finding all those background checks more interesting than I thought.”

She doesn’t return the smile. She seems to find a little thread on the arm of the chair that she plucks at, her tongue darting out to swipe over her bottom lip.

“What?” he says, his stomach knotting. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she says, continuing to pinch the thread on the chair. “I … guess I just don't completely believe you.”

Again Mulder is stunned. “You don’t believe me?”

“No. Not entirely.” Her eyes won’t meet his, like she feels guilty for the sin of mistrust.

“Why… not?”

She swallows, then raises her eyes to his. “I suppose I worry … that you’re telling me what I want to hear. So you don’t have to deal with the inconvenience of me being upset.” She straightens her posture. “And if that’s the case, Mulder, I wish you would just show me the respect of telling me the truth. So I won’t be unpleasantly taken by surprise later.”

“The inconvenience of you…” He stops, holding back his anger. “Since when do we not believe each other, Scully?”

Her nostrils flare, but her tone is icy calm. “Since you started going on secret dates with ex-girlfriends trying to recruit you to be their new partner behind my back, I suppose.”

“It was not a date,” Mulder repeats in a hiss.

“What exactly do you think a date is, Mulder?”

He sucks his teeth in irritation, jerking his limbs around restlessly on the couch. “Well, for one, I think a date is primarily about someone trying to initiate a relationship, not about work.”

“And you’re saying this wasn’t about both?”

There’s a moment of silence.

Mulder feels the beginning of a headache throbbing in his temples, and his eyes flash longingly towards the door. Maybe he should just leave. Maybe that’s for the best. He could try explaining this all again in the daytime, when Bill isn’t here, when they’re both in better moods.

Then his eyes fall back on Scully.

She looks small and defeated in the chair, looking at the floor, tears still visible on her cheeks. He wonders if it’s possible she might cry more if he were to leave now. He thinks about her belief that he’d go back to the basement office without her. How sure she seems to be that he would do it.

Something deep inside him aches like an old, unhealed wound. He knows he won’t be leaving. He knows it in the same certain way he knew he was going to take Bill home from the bar tonight. It doesn’t even feel like a real choice.

He squirms around on the couch again, trying futilely to get comfortable, and it makes something in his pocket poke him in the thigh.

“Oh,” he says softly, remembering. He digs his hand into his pocket to fish out an object. “I, uh, brought you something, Scully.”

She looks up at him warily. “What? An autopsy report?”

“No, no,” Mulder says. He extricates it from his pocket. It’s slightly dented, but otherwise unblemished. He leans over to hand her the coaster he’d picked up from the table at the bar.

“What’s this?” She examines it with a frown.

“It’s just a coaster.”

“Did you steal this, Mulder?”

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “I stole it from the Honest Man Pub.”

“That’s almost painfully ironic."

Mulder shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its ragged edges,” Scully reads from the coaster. “Herman Melville.”

“It reminded me of you,” says Mulder, feeling a little self-conscious. “Melville. Truth. You know. All your favorites.”

“You stole this for me on your date?”

“Scully,” Mulder says, “it wasn’t a…” He stops himself, closing his eyes. “Yeah. I stole the coaster on my date.”

Scully is holding the coaster in her fingers, turning it over and over, and she looks up at him.

“So you and Bill were at the Honest Man Pub tonight,” she says.

“Yeah,” he says.

“I like that place,” she muses softly. “Good food. I like the chicken club sandwich.”

He nods. “I do, too. I didn’t eat tonight though.”

She stares in mystification at the coaster, her brow creasing. “What … what was Bill and Tara’s fight about?”

“Oh.” Mulder scratches the back of his neck. “Tara wants to go back to work, and I guess Bill doesn’t want her to.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Scully replies.

Mulder just nods numbly.

“What did you tell him?”

“Uhhh … nothing too remarkable. Be completely honest, admit when you were a dick, listen to her.”

“Did Bill listen?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mulder says. “I hope so.”

“Why do you hope so?” Scully asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Bill’s been nothing but awful to you,” Scully says, her eyes fixed on him. “It sounds like he’s been awful to Tara, too. Why would you try to help him at all?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder says truthfully. He considers. “He wanted to be better. And… it seems like despite how he acted, he actually does love her. I just hoped he could get it together.”

Really and truly, Mulder hadn’t intended for this statement to have any double meaning. But in the chair across from him, Scully goes unusually silent and still.

He has thirty seconds of horror replaying the words back, thinking about how she must have heard them. About the implications. About what he might have revealed inadvertently.

There is a short but unbearable stretch of silence.

“So why didn’t you eat?” she asks at last.

“What?” he says, swallowing.

“You said you didn’t eat at the pub,” she points out. “You didn’t eat dinner?”

“Oh,” he says. “No. Because the night ended early. The Bill thing. And Diana sort of decided she needed to, uh, raise the stakes.”

“Raise the stakes,” repeats Scully.

“Yeah …” He rubs his hands together in agitation. “I don’t think I was as enthusiastic about her offer to be partners again as she thought I’d be,” he says. “She tried to raise the stakes. Manipulate the situation. I wasn’t that wild about it.”

“How did she try to manipulate the situation?” Scully asks.

“It was like you said before,” he says reluctantly. “She made some offers. Like she thought she had to do more to … you know. To compete.”

“Compete.” Scully repeats. “Compete with what?”

Mulder doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I’ve known her a long time, and I think her heart is more or less in the right place,” he says. “But I think she felt like she needed to compete with … you know, Scully. The reason I wasn’t going to say yes.”

Scully’s face is blank, and Mulder realizes in shame that he is going to have to spell it out. “I have a partner. I don’t want a new partner. She tried to compete with that.”

Scully’s clutching the coaster tightly in one hand, wide-eyed.

“Anyway, I don’t like feeling manipulated like that,” Mulder says, shrugging self-consciously. The more he thinks about it, the more clearly he sees it. “Diana knows things about me from our past together, and she … tries to use those things as a lever with me. She knows that relationships are a big deal to me, that intimacy in a relationship is a big deal to me.”

“Is that true?”

“Yeah,” he says, feeling his face warm. “Does that surprise you?”

“No,” she says, almost a whisper.

“I mean, you’re right about what you said. In some ways.” He looks closely at his hands. “I went there with a goal, thinking she might give us some avenue to work on the X-files. But there’s no way I’d… there’s no way I would choose to go back to the X-files … like that. Without you, I mean.”

She is only continuing to stare, her face unchanging. He wonders what she is thinking.

“I guess I can’t prove to you that I’m telling you the truth,” he says, suddenly feeling deflated. “The only evidence I have is a lack of evidence. That Diana asked me to come home with her, and I … didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Mulder huffs in frustration. “That’s what I’m saying, Scully. What I’m trying to tell you. I don’t want that.”

Scully’s eyes fall again on the coaster, her brows knitting together. She examines it thoughtfully. “Instead you went home with Bill.”

“Right,” he says. He tries to smile. “Obviously I’d never miss a chance to go home with a Scully.”

To his great relief she offers a tiny, enigmatic smile in response. “You two did seem to hit it off surprisingly well tonight.”

“Yeah, he’s my favorite redhead now,” Mulder says. “You’re second, though, don’t worry.”

Through her smile the beginnings of fresh tears begin to pool in the bottom of her eyes.

“Aw, I’m just kidding,” he pleads. “You’re still my favorite.”

“Really that is evidence you were telling the truth, isn’t it?” she reasons, wiping her eyes. “You brought Bill home safely, even though he’s been an asshole to you for years. You tried to help him.”

“He wasn’t so bad tonight.”

“I didn’t believe you,” she says. “I thought you’d do anything to get the X-files back.” Her voice lowers tremulously. “I’m sorry, Mulder.”

“No, come on,” he says, frowning. “I see why you came to that conclusion. It wasn’t unfounded. But I…” He scrunches closed his eyes, then opens them. “It actually isn’t … just the work for me any more. I have some other priorities.”

“Do you?” she whispers.

“Yeah.”

She’s staring hard at him now, her eyes darting back and forth across his face.

He stands from her couch, hoping he projects more confidence than he feels, and walks directly over to her in her chair. She tracks his movements warily.

He extends his hand. “C’mon, Scully,” he says roughly.

Her eyebrows lift higher, but she places her hand in his, and he lifts her to her feet, drawing her as close to him as he dares.

“Let me show you my priorities,” he says.

It would be much smoother if he just kissed her, but he doesn’t. He hesitates. It’s his habit to check in with her, after all. He always wants to know what she thinks, and that’s one reason he knows he loves her.

Her eyes are round. Her face has lost some color. But her body, her center of gravity, is tipping ever-so-slightly towards him.

Solemnly he nods, and his hands slide around her waist. Her body feels tiny, warm and fragile, slippery with silk.

He bends down to let his lips cover hers. One light kiss, slightly hesitant. Then another firmer, more hungry. He feels her shiver a little in his arms, and he wants to feel it again. 

Tilting his head reverently, he begins to kiss her from every angle, his hands moving up and down, up and down her back. His palms graze the soft slope of her rear end once as he caresses her, and then stop to grasp her there intentionally. He's beginning to feel dizzy, lost in the barrage of sensory details. It’s the kind of kissing that hides nothing, he realizes dimly. Not his swift, overwhelming arousal. Not the fierce intensity of his emotions. That should probably worry him a little, but it doesn’t.

Her own arms have wound around his neck, and it almost feels like she’s trying to climb him, her own mouth pushing in farther towards him, her body meshing into his. He can hear the frantic, uneven quality of her breath. And it occurs to him: she’s not hiding very much, either.

“Bedroom,” she whispers into his ear.

“What about Bill?” Mulder whispers back urgently.

“He won’t know,” Scully says. She pulls back to look at him, her cheeks flushed deep pink. “Does it bother you?”

“Noooo,” Mulder says, shaking his head. “Not enough to stop, anyway.”

They start to move towards Scully’s bedroom, still entangled, Mulder walking forward and Scully taking backwards steps.

He’s distracted by kissing her again and again, and neither of them notice Bill’s shoes on the floor, still lying where they had remained after they both had worked so hard together to remove them.

Scully stumbles backwards first, which pulls Mulder off balance, too. They both crash loudly into an end table on their way down to the floor.

“Fuck,” Mulder exclaims as they land in a pile. He sits up, feeling a bruise rising on his knee already.

Scully pushes herself up and puts her hand over her mouth, laughing. “Are you all right, Mulder?”

“Yeah, you?”

She nods, still laughing, pushing an errant strand of hair from her face. “Wait. Shh.” She abruptly quiets and leans over, placing her finger over his lips, tilting her head to listen seriously for a beat. Then she relaxes and smiles again. “If that didn’t wake Bill up, he’s really out.”

Mulder doesn’t feel as amused. He’d wanted this to be more perfect. “Not an auspicious start,” he says, trying to sound light, but feeling some knots of anxiety.

Scully’s expression softens. She scoots towards him on the floor, taking a firm hold of his forearms.

“It’s okay,” she says soothingly, her forehead pressing to his. “Small hiccups.”

“I know,” he says, feeling silly. “But—”

“Truth, uncompromisingly told, will always have its ragged edges.”

She smiles playfully, her thumbs running back and forth lightly over his arms. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in her pajamas, saucily quoting bar coaster wisdom back to him, Scully is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. His hands find her face, cradling her cheeks.

“Right, Mulder?” 

“That’s right,” he whispers back at her, barely vocalizing.

“And that’s what this is, right, Mulder?” she says, her voice cracking slightly on his name. “The truth?”

In response he leans in and kisses her in a way that he hopes tells her everything, that leaves no secret hidden.

Then he whispers softly in her ear. “That’s right.” Another kiss, this one infused with pure hope. “That’s absolutely right.”

***

[lorevelvet]

🗿thoughts

Bill Sr Scully is the superior Bill

Pros: raised Dana Scully

Had Bill Jr, thus propagating the Bill population

Had a cute nickname for Dana and read with her

Came back as a ghost twice, one of those encouraging Scully not to die

Cons: died in S1

Was not pleased w his daughter’s career choice

Was kinda snarky about Scully’s Christmas tree that one time

Probably wouldn’t like Mulder (although I always thought Maggie saw how Mulder felt about Scully and loved him for it, maybe he would have felt the same)

Bill Scully Jr

Pros: loved his sister

Dedicated to his military service

Cons: Bill Jr sucks

Never understood Scully’s dedication to her own career and her partner

He sucks

Bill Mulder

Pros: loved his kids, even Fox, who was not biologically his (I suspect he always knew)

Realized the error of his ways later in life and was ready to tell Mulder everything but died before he could

Never met Scully but I bet he would have liked her

Cons:

Made teena choose which kid got taken which is a dick move

Helped run a massive coverup w the Smoking Man for decades

In conclusion, Bill Sr is the best Bill

Edit: William Scully-Mulder

Pros: cute baby

Psychic/telekinetic

Alien cult was obsessive w him (not sure if this is a pro or con)

Cons: killed people

Kind of a fuckboi

Faked his death

In conclusion, Bill Scully Sr is still the best Bill

[poangsecretsanta]

Mulder becomes a Scully

Dana was unhappy, this much Bill knew from the moment she’d arrived. It was her first Christmas after she had recovered from her cancer and she was about to be an aunt, this should have been a jubilant holiday. 

Bill was on edge about becoming a father, with Tara’s delivery overdue his nerves were frayed and he wished his father’s stoic presence was there. Bill tried his best to rally his little sister, begged her to be present with them, but in every encounter she seemed a million miles away. 

Bill knew it was more than this mysterious case and that little girl she seemed to latch onto. He wanted to blame her Partner, that he was dragging her away from them; but the hardest fact to face was that this was all of Dana’s own doing, her choice to keep a moat between her and them. Each time he reached out to her, he felt like he was rejected; and it frustrated him to see her so withdrawn.

Bill did not understand how or why Dana was trying to adopt this previously unknown child. The thought that it could be her biological daughter made him dizzy, but a big part of him wanted this for her. This could be the blessing she needed to get her life on track and away from her FBI work. 

Bill was honored to support his sister in the adoption hearing, speaking honestly of her capacity to care for others and her ability to provide a stable home. As a Naval Officer and a blood relative, he hoped his testimony would hold more weight. 

On leaving the judge’s quarters, Bill was shocked to see Fox Mulder there, ready to be a character witness. Dana’s boss had provided a glowing reference for her via phone already and Bill could only wonder at the fact the man flew across the country to be there for her. 

With a scold and a sigh, Bill resented the man’s presence, ready to send him packing the moment he was done helping Dana. With one fierce look Maggie Scully informed Bill he would be doing no such thing and begrudgingly he had no recourse but to accept his fate.

Perhaps Bill would have remained sullen and cold, but that it was like a switch had been flicked on and suddenly Dana had arrived with them. So Bill endured his presence if only to get to spend time with his sister and for that he was rewarded. At dinner Dana was animated, laughing as Tara told her of her pregnancy war stories. Bill wanted to attribute her change in mood to her adoption proceedings looking more positive, but his wife knew better.  

“It’s him Bill. I don’t know what’s going on between them, but you need to work out how to make peace with him or else you’re going to lose her.”

Bill wanted to hold a grudge, but it was clear Fox Mulder would do anything for his sister so there was no question as to where he would be staying while he was in town. 

That night Dana was surprised to find Tara struggling to reach the clean towels in the linen closet as she went upstairs to put her paperwork away. Dana intercepted it for her with a questioning look. 

“It’s for Fox.”

Dana smiled as her brother walked over with some spare bedding and a pillow stacking it on to Scully’s arms. 

“Here you go short stuff,” Bill said with a razz in his voice, knowing his sister was poking her tongue out from behind the pile of linen. Placing them all in her room, Scully stopped in to say ‘thank you’ to Bill and Tara for letting Mulder stay with them. 

Bill didn’t mean to tear up as she hugged him but he felt connected to her in a way that had been missing for so long. Helping Tara to bed, the women laughed as Bill played nurse maid with Tara’s pillows, building a retaining wall to keep her partially upright. 

Grabbing Dana’s hand, Tara assured Dana that Fox was welcomed to stay here anytime. 

Bill nodded in silent confirmation, and Dana beamed at them both. 

The days ahead were filled with melodrama; Dana’s child battled for her health in the same hospital Tara struggled with a complicated delivery. Finally Mathew was born and sweet Emily passed away, Uncle Bill seeing her one last time through the glass window as she slept in her coma.

Holding his son in his arms Bill felt the weight of what his sister had lost and he wondered how she would ever carry on. 

The service for the little girl was brief. The family sat through Mass and once again, Bill watched Dana pull away from her family. A part of him wondered if losing a child you didn’t know about hurt as much as one you knew from inception, but his heart told him that the Scully family was wired to love their offspring no matter what. Whether he understood how or why the child came into being no longer mattered, Bill was there to mourn the loss of his young niece.  

As Bill left Dana behind in the church he wished she’d reconsider driving back with them, he needed to know she was ok. It was the bouquet of flowers he saw Fox Mulder holding as he entered the church that calmed his mind. It was such an innocuous gesture amongst all the injustices that had taken place but it meant something. 

While Bill may never consider the man a friend, he could see that he was a safe place for his sister. For all of Fox Mulder’s faults he was the one she had chosen, and that made him de facto family. 

Dana insisted on taking a Red Eye back to D.C with Fox after the funeral. Stopping over at the house to pack their things, Fox waited on the porch for Scully to change clothes and finalize her luggage. 

Bill made his way out onto the porch and noticed that Mulder tensed his body as he saw him approach. A part of him enjoyed the fact that the man anticipated an uncomfortable confrontation, but Bill was there on a mission of peace. 

“Does she talk to you,” Bill asked, trying to keep his frustration at bay. 

“Only when she wants too,” Mulder replied with a shake of his head. 

Bill gave a knowing grunt and patted Mulder on the shoulder. 

“You look after her,” Bill said with a serious warning tone. 

“We look after each other,” Mulder replied with a cocky defiance that reminded Bill of why the man grated on him.

Before Bill could make his way into the house he heard Fox Mulder’s voice.

“Hey Bill, thanks for letting me stay, I appreciate it.”  

Mulder stood up and offered Bill his hand, it was a peace offering. 

“Any time,” Bill said with a firm shake and a nod. 

Maggie Scully and Dana arrived in time to witness the exchange but knew better than to mention anything. Instead, Dana hugged her brother longer than she had in years, telling him to send lots of pictures of her nephew. As Dana hugged her brother, Maggie gave Fox another hug goodbye and ordered him to come for dinner when they all got settled at home. 

Maggie and Bill watched as the rental car drove away, silently they both understood that Fox Mulder was now part of their family.

@thursdayinspace

[fbisgayesttrio]

(correct answer is Bill btw)

[snailpebbles]

official bill scully hater

(for now at least, mayhaps just a disliker)

[x-files-polls]

Monday Funday

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Christmas Carol (5x06)

There was a time when Dana adored him. Mom said all little girls looked up to their big brothers, but she was only half right. Bill could still feel phantom pains from his childhood brawls with Missy, but when Dana was young, you would have thought she lived in the space on the ground where his shadow lay. He couldn’t count how many times she bumped into his back when she’d follow too close behind him, or how often he rolled his eyes when she’d pretend to be interested in whatever he was into.

He didn’t realize how much her admiration meant to him until it wasn’t so freely given.

Even in name, he was trying his best to honor his father’s legacy. Of course Mom said he would be so proud, but over time, he realized Dana was his only mirror into seeing how true that was. The colors that spanned his uniform didn’t have the same effect as the glint in her eyes when she looked at him and saw their father.

He hadn’t seen that glint in years.

Dad had always told him that he was setting an example for his siblings, but he was too young and too dumb, so he treated the privilege like a burden. As a kid, his attempts to emulate his father’s authority were sloppy and mean, something Dana realized far sooner than he did. As an adult, he recognized how great his father was at commanding respect while never letting his kids question how much they were loved. 

If he had to pinpoint the moment everything changed between them, it was when she called him saying that she was joining the FBI after spending years in medical school. He’d been exhausted from his deployment, and the words just slipped out. 

“Dad’s going to be so disappointed in you.”

He might have been the one with their father’s name, but she was daddy’s little girl. Even though he thought his statement was true, he felt the need to spit the acrid taste of the words out of his mouth. Melissa and Charlie might’ve reveled in rebellion, but he and Dana lived their lives in a way that ensured a statement like that would never be true.

She got mad, he apologized, they moved on, but their relationship was never the same. It made him feel guilty that her estimation meant so much to him, and he returned the favor by watering the seed of doubt in her mind so that it became an invasive weed woven into her psyche.

Sometimes Bill wondered if it would have been easier to mend their relationship if she was partnered with anyone else. He called Mr. Mulder a sorry sonofabitch a few weeks before, but he was preaching to the choir. Maybe that’s what pissed him off so much. Mulder does blame himself. There’s nothing Bill could ever say to that man that he hadn’t said to himself a thousand times over.

Her partner knew, yet nothing changed. They hadn’t slowed down, they hadn’t taken a break, and Dana was stuck living a life devoid of all the things she’d dreamed of growing up. Mr. Mulder never saw the childhood crayon drawings of a doctor with red, shoulder-length hair. He didn’t know about how often Melissa and Dana speculated about baby names or gushed about what their future husbands would look like. But Bill always thought about his baby sister and how often she came home, battered and bruised, to an empty apartment. Dana might love her work, but her work wasn’t keeping her warm at night.

She barely even saw her family any more. It pained him more than he could say that his children would only get to know his family through trips to the cemetery and Christmas visits.

And even that wasn’t a guarantee.

Bill watched as Dana walked back into the living room and sit down after contributing a hefty addition to next month’s phone bill. His eyes were drawn to her fingers as she worried the cross that hung around her neck. What used to be an act of devotion now just looked like thoughtless muscle memory in effect.

“Mulder’s on his way here,” she stated matter-of-factly.

He knew by her body language that this was information he was expected to accept without argument. In a measured tone, he asked: “Did he get a room at a hotel?”

“No.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mom’s hands still as her back straightened. Despite being an empty-nester for nearly two decades, she was still prepared to intervene in her children’s fights. Only this time, she was beaten to the punch.

“I can’t wait to meet Mulder! I’ve heard so much about him,” Tara beamed from his side.

Dana offered his wife a polite smile, but Tara’s last comment earned him a biting glance.

Mom, picking up on the subtext his wife hadn’t, was quick to try and prevent an argument. “I’m always glad to have him around. He’s like a part of the family.”

Bill held back a wince as his incisor dug into his lip. He wanted to say that this was his house and that he should have a say who gets to be here. He also wanted to remind his mother she didn’t seem to consider him family when she was sobbing on the ride back from the hospital, lamenting  that Dana needed to give chemo another try instead of a goddamned piece of metal.

But he didn’t. He knew his mother would remind him that the little piece of metal did work and that Mulder had effectively saved his only living sister’s life. Just like he knew Dana would threaten to leave if he didn’t welcome this man into his home and keep his mouth shut about the fact they would likely be sharing his guest bed.

He was tired of being the bad guy when all he wanted was his family to be back together.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on AO3!

@gaycrouton

[agent-troi]

Saw your tags--

Oh, yes, he's Selfish, not gonna deny that.

I just see him as a man who is kept in check by the people he respects the most-- Tara and Maggie-- and not so much Scully. I got the impression he backed off during the Emily arc; and he wouldn't like (or probably respect) Mulder after; but there'd be a "do not touch sign" between he and Scully concerning that topic and he'd stay clear of it. At least, that's my headcanon. ;)))

I did include the nurse's annoyance at him for a hint that he might not be coming across as nicely or rightly as he thinks he is.

hard agree with all of this!

[sarahwatchesthings]

Bill Scully is obnoxious. Never was inclined to like him after the snake murder story.

[aloysiavirgata]

I love! LOVE how you write Bill! Especially with Mulder and its effect on Scully. (Not a prompt) Just came to say anytime you write something where Bill is being Bill, just know you’ve got a guaranteed fan! I bet even in a world where Jackson met him, he’d just be an extension of Mulderisms giving him a run for his money

Thank you so much!!! Bill Scully is an absolute guilty pleasure of mine and the thing is if I were in Bill’s shoes I’d probably punch Mulder’s face to the other side of his head.

He’s an ass but he’s NOT a bad guy - sorry not sorry.

[cecilysass]

Honest Man (1/3)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter One

He almost never goes out to bars in Alexandria, and when he does, he’s typically in some kind of despairing mood. But Mulder isn’t despairing tonight. He’s hopeful.

It’s hope tempered with some reservation, of course. He’s not stupid—the other shoe can always drop—but there’s definitely a feeling that there could be less troubled paths ahead. If all goes well.

The pub is crowded, so he stands in the entrance scanning the room for her, feeling strangely awkward, like an adolescent boy. He jogged a little to get here at the time they arranged, and Mulder’s uncomfortably sweating now in his work clothes. He loosens his collar and tie.

She’s sitting with stately posture at a side booth, a menu propped in front of her. She spots him and raises a single hand.

He eagerly makes his way across the room, ducking in between the people making their way to get a drink at the bar, and slips into the seat across from her. “Hi,” he says. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m used to it, Fox,” she says, coolly amused. Diana slides him a menu. “It’s given me plenty of time to look over the culinary options here at the Honest Man Pub.” She draws out the name of the bar in an affected way, a little mockingly.

He smirks at her. “Come on. Who doesn’t like an Honest Man, Diana?”

“Who indeed.” She smiles tightly. “As it happens, I remember your taste in restaurants, so I’m not surprised.”

“Mozzarella sticks,” he says, pointing a finger at the menu enthusiastically. “You want to share some? I’m starving.”

“No thanks. I ordered a negroni.”

“Look,” Mulder gestures towards a woodcut illustration of Abraham Lincoln on the cover of the menu. “It’s Honest Abe, Diana. Trustworthy. You sure you don’t want a burger or something?”

“I’m really not hungry,” she says. But she, too, flips the menu over to look at it. She traces Lincoln’s face with her fingertip. “You think it’s supposed to be a reference to that story about chopping down the cherry tree?”

“That was George Washington.” Mulder sets the menu down and gives her a mildly admonishing look.

“What? I’m no historian,” she says dismissively. “And what politician has the luxury of honesty anyway?”

Diana’s not wearing her work clothes, he notices in surprise. Unless she wears a form-fitting black dress to work, and he doesn’t think she does. He chews his lip, wondering why she bothered to go home to change, especially because he’s pretty sure she lives in DC.

After the server passes by, and Mulder orders his beer and mozzarella sticks, he turns his attention back to her. “Well? What’s up?” He folds his hands on the table. “You made it sound like good news.”

Her cocktail is placed directly in front of her, and she murmurs a polite thanks to the server. “Potentially it is,” she says. “I need your help on a case, and I think if you do well, it could be … a step in the right direction.”

He tries to play it cool, even though this is exactly what he hoped. “My help? Did Kersh have a personality transplant or something?”

“This would be outside of official channels,” she explains. “At first, anyway.”

There are several cardboard coasters on the table with quotes printed on them in homey, old-fashioned typeface. The one nearest Mulder reads: “An honest man is always a child. - Socrates.” He pushes the coaster around the table with his fingertip, nodding slowly. “I’m listening.”

“There have been a series of credible sightings of unusual crafts flying low outside of Groom Lake,” she says in a low voice. She sips her drink, meeting his eyes. “I know you’ve probably been following it. Kersh doesn’t want Jeffrey and I to spend too much time there. But you could go.”

“Under what auspices?”

“It would have to be extracurricular.” She shrugs, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. “You’ve done this sort of thing before, Fox.”

“Shiner Bock,” the server says cheerfully, setting a bottle down in front of Mulder. “Your mozzarella sticks should be out soon.”

“Thanks,” says Mulder. As the server darts off, he takes a slow sip, mulling over Diana’s words. “How would this be a step in the right direction?”

Diana leans towards him, her glass resting against her cheek. “Jeffrey and I have received some information about experimental craft at Groom Lake,” she says softly. “If we could put that together with your field work—and what you already have in the files—then we could have a report they’d have to take seriously.”

Mulder can’t help but feel excited, but he takes pains to mask it, chuckling cynically. “I’ve been down this road before, Diana.” He shrugs. “It never amounts to much. Plus, Kersh is already looking for any reason to chuck me out of the Bureau. This could easily be it.”

She reaches across the table and clasps his hand tight. “Not if I have your back.”

He frowns a little, confused by her meaning. She’s much more open to this than he expected. Still, his whole soul cries out to get back to working on the X-files. It’s almost all he thinks about these days. If there is a way forward here, he needs to hear all of it.

“We’ve always made a good team,” Diana points out. “We could be again. And this is your life’s work. You’re wasted in the bullpen.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says uneasily, “but what would—”

“I knew it.” interrupts a booming voice startlingly close to their table.

Mulder looks up blankly, and it takes him a half second to place the tall, pink-faced man towering angrily over them.

He knows Bill Scully’s face very well—associates it with some of his most emotionally vulnerable moments, in fact—but seeing it here in this Virginia bar, out of context, gives him a moment’s pause.

“I just knew it,” repeats Bill, his eyes narrowing. He squints down at Mulder murderously. “You’re not even worth … one of her goddamn pinky toes, you no good son of a bitch.”

“Bill,” Mulder murmurs, staring back. The man seems to be swaying slightly from side to side as he spits words out, as though he’s insulting Mulder on rough seas. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

Bill leans over, placing a palm flat on the table, and Mulder can distinctly smell whiskey on his breath.

“You have some nerve,” Bill hisses. “This is how you treat her? After everything you’ve done? Now you’re just out … on some date?”

Diana gives him a significant, questioning look, and Mulder straightens in his seat, his eyes scanning behind Bill’s back for a sign of who might be accompanying him. “I think you‘ve had a few too many tonight,” Mulder attempts genially. “You’re not making much sense. Why don’t I—”

“Why don’t you shut your damn mouth for once in your life?” Bill bellows. The group of young people at the next table looks over, watching them now, their expressions half interested and half alarmed.

Bill turns his attention to Diana, pointing one of his large fingers at her like a scolding father, even though Mulder is pretty sure Diana is at least Bill’s age, if not older. “What do you know about this guy, miss?” His words are definitely slurring. “How much did he tell you? Did you know he’s a dangerous sonofabitch?”

Diana smiles stiffly. “I’m safe, thank you.”

“Well, when he asked you out,” Bill says to her, gesturing sloppily, “did he mention he’s been fucking my sister for years? Destroying her life? Breaking her heart?”

He knows Bill’s drunk, and he knows Bill doesn’t have his facts right, but Mulder can’t help feeling the sting of shame over what he’s being accused of. Part of it, anyway. He hears himself inhale sharply by reflex.

Diana’s eyebrows have arched in surprise. She looks pointedly at Mulder. “Oh? Is that right? Who’s your sister?”

“My sister Dana,” Bill spits out, slamming his hand on the table for emphasis. “My baby sister.”

“Ah,” Diana responds conversationally. “You’re Agent Scully’s brother.” She seems unfazed by this information. “We both work with her, actually. Why don’t you join us for a moment?”

She scoots over in her seat, gesturing calmly to the spot next to her. Mulder doesn’t move, paralyzed with horror at the way this is unfolding.

Bill looks at Diana a moment, his jaw clenched, and then, to Mulder’s shock, slides in next to her in the booth, turning to direct his glare at Mulder.

For a moment Mulder just stares, slack-jawed, back into the man’s furious face. Bill seems to be waiting for something—for Mulder to explain himself, probably.

“This … isn’t a date,” Mulder begins, pointing between Diana and himself. “It’s work. And you need to understand that your sister and I aren’t in a romantic relationship either. Or a, uh, sexual relationship.”

Bill chuckles, shaking his head slowly, then abruptly changes mood, pounding his fist loudly and suddenly on the table and causing both Diana and Mulder to startle.

“Then why?” he demands, meeting Mulder’s eyes intensely in a way that reminds him, unsettlingly, of Scully. “Why does she do it? Why does she put up with you?”

“I … really don’t know,” Mulder admits miserably. “You’d have to ask her.”

“I know my sister,” Bill says, his features softening a little. “There are only … a few reasons why she would do it.” His tone goes cold. “Does she know you’re on a date?”

“No,” Mulder answers quickly, “but it’s not a—”

“I hate you,” Bill leans forward to whisper to him. “I hate you for what you’ve put her through. Now you’re cheating. On a fucking date. Jesus.”

“Yo, Scully,” comes a masculine voice from the bar. “Where’d you go?” Mulder looks around nervously, half expecting to see his partner, but of course the voice is calling for Bill. A group of men in their 30s and 40s, all with square shoulders and military haircuts, seem to be looking in this direction. Bill doesn’t even look back at them.

“You don’t understand,” Mulder says. He feels panicky and anxious. “It’s not a date. And Scully’s my partner, not my—”

“Jesus, shut the fuck up,” Bill groans. He slides out of the booth. “Don’t you ever get tired of your annoying-ass voice?”

He does, actually, more often than one might think.

“Bill, wait, are you—” Mulder stops suddenly.

He realizes what he was about to ask—are you going to tell Scully that you saw us here?—sounds completely at odds with what he has been telling Bill, what he has been telling himself. That question doesn’t make him sound like a partner out talking about work with a colleague.

It makes him sound like he thinks he’s doing something wrong, something he needs to hide.

The truth is that he does think Scully would be angry to know he’d met Diana here. She would be angry for a whole snarl of tangled reasons—and yeah, hurt, like Bill says. He doesn’t especially want her to know.

“Am I what?” Bill sneers, turning back around jerkily.

“Are you … okay to get home?” Mulder mumbles. “You have a ride?”

Bill gives him a look of withering contempt. “That’s none of your fucking business.” He turns and staggers back towards the bar.

Mulder watches him go, trying to swallow back his self-loathing. He realizes after a second that his fists are clenched.

“Fox,” Diana says in concern. “Are you all right?”

He says nothing for a beat, making a game attempt to pull himself back together.

“Yeah,” he says to Diana. He takes a fast swig of beer. “That guy—he, uh, just really hates me.”

“I gathered,” Diana says. She looks at Mulder appraisingly. “You seem to be taking what he says awfully seriously.”

“Well,” Mulder says grimly into his beer, “it’s just he’s not entirely wrong.”

Diana leans back in the booth, lifts her glass to her beautiful lips, and takes a careful sip. “No,” she says coolly, “he’s not.”

Mulder exhales raggedly. “Gee, Diana,” he says, “don’t hold back how you feel on my account.”

“He’s wrong about plenty,” she breathes. “He underestimates you, like most people do. But he’s not wrong that your work has hurt Agent Scully.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he snaps at her. He pauses to compose himself. “I don’t want Scully to be hurt,” he says in a more controlled voice. “I never have. Her choices are her own.”

“And your choices are your own,” Diana says. Her eyes are dark and shining. “You know, Fox, I hope that if all goes well with this initial foray at Groom Lake, we might all be a little more ambitious in our choices.”

Mulder shakes his head rapidly, still rattled by the encounter with Bill. “Ambitious in our choices how?”

“Well,” she says. “Thinking longer term, I don’t know if Jeffrey is working out on the X-files. I think he might prefer to be elsewhere at the Bureau. And if he does… then I’d be asked for my preference in a partner.”

Mulder looks up quickly. “And you’d … want to work with me?”

“Of course,” she says, giving him an inviting look. “Who else would I want?”

There’s an uncomfortable pause. Mulder toys with a coaster on the table idly.

“Do you think they’d even listen to you?” he wonders. “They’re really not my biggest fans right now. Kersh in particular.”

She fishes an ice cube out of her drink, sucks on it a little. Then she meets his eyes, and there is a dangerous spark. “I can be very persuasive, Fox.”

Mulder’s fingertip worries the corner of the cardboard coaster back and forth, back and forth. He hasn’t asked the biggest question. “And what about Scully?”

“What about her?”

“I couldn’t … leave Scully behind in the bullpen.”

“Without you,” Diana says, sipping her drink, “she wouldn’t be in the bullpen for very long. They would give her a better placement in no time. She’s only stuck there because of you.”

Mulder’s eyes remain on the scuffed tabletop as he considers the truth of this statement. Scully certainly is only being punished because of her links to the X-files. Were she cut free from him, she probably would be given a fresh start.

“I don’t know,” he says bleakly. “I don’t know if I could even do it without her.”

Diana makes an exasperated hiss. “Fox,” she says. “Of course you could. What is this codependency you’ve developed? You weren’t like this before.”

Mulder rubs the bridge of his nose. “Diana, I–”

“Mozzarella sticks,” announces their server, his voice surreally peppy as he places the basket on the table. Mulder nods and smiles miserably, his eyes down on the fried cheese.

As the server walks away, Diana reaches over and places her hand over his. It’s light and soft as silk. “I could be the partner you need, Fox,” she says softly. “If you give me a chance.”

Her fingers now are caressing his hand lightly. Mulder’s taken aback. “I remember … how to calm you down,” she adds, almost a whisper. “How to reduce your stress.” She runs her fingertip down the back of his hand, a subtle but effective gesture. “And I’m not someone who is easily hurt.”

As opposed to Scully? he wonders. Is that what Scully is? Easily hurt? Is that why I’ve hurt her so much?

Somewhere to Mulder’s left there is a loud discussion at the bar. Despite Diana’s surprising advances, Mulder finds his attention drifting over there. He recognizes Bill’s voice, speaking loudly to the bartender, and looks for him in the crowd.

“I’ll tell you what,” Diana adds, reaching out with her finger to gently direct his chin back towards her. “Come over tonight.” Under the table he feels her foot brush against his calf, ostensibly accidentally, and she’s successfully got his full attention back. “We can discuss your Groom Lake fieldwork more privately. I can … convince you of everything else.”

Mulder closely watches her face, every nuance of her expression. “Oh yeah?” he says guardedly.

“Hey folks, you doing all right here? Need ketchup or anything?” The energetic server is suddenly smiling broadly next to the table, hands on his hips, and Mulder can sense Diana’s annoyance from across the table.

“We’re fine,” Mulder says, still staring at Diana, “but I’m going to need to get these mozzarella sticks to go. And our checks, please.”

“Coming right up.” The server obligingly darts away.

Diana’s foot brushes up his calf again, this time with less pretense of accident. “Is that a yes, then?” she says, the barest hint of a smile.

In the background, Mulder is aware of a flurry of activity at the bar—the bartender’s voice firmly declaring something about someone not being served any more.

He looks back at Diana, who looks very beautiful, curvy and enticing in the dress he now realizes was strategically chosen to showcase her body for him.

Then his eyes fall down to one of the coasters on the table. He reads it, then reaches down and picks it up impulsively, sliding it in his pocket.

“Diana,” he says, suddenly sounding more certain than he expects, “I’m going to have to get back to you.”

***

[goodshipsmulder]

This scene breaks my heart. Mulder is so used to taking the blame for everything, for everyone he's lost, and he just sits there and takes this abuse from Bill.

The thing about Bill that really pisses me off is he could easily be blaming Scully for those losses - her choice to join the FBI, her choice to stay working with Mulder, her choice to walk towards danger. But Bill deflects all of that anger onto Mulder without really knowing him, or the losses he's faced. In doing so he is not only rude and mean to Mulder, he also diminishes his sister's autonomy and self determination, blatantly showing a sexist attitude that Mulder should have stopped it all from happening.

And Mulder blamed himself anyway, and would have hated himself regardless of Bill's comments, so he just sits there and takes it and tries to be compassionate.

“You’re one sorry son of a bitch.” (5.02 // redux ii)

[its-ya-girl-phoeni]

@zay-does-things

Some scrapped Gravity Falls casting choices:

Bob Odenkirk as Stan Pines (Matt Chapman also auditioned for the role, but his voice for him sounded too similar to his voice for Strong Bad from Homestar Runner)

Jeff Bridges as Ford Pines

David Lynch as Bill Cipher (which explains why Alex's voice for him is pretty much just an impression of Lynch's character from Twin Peaks)

Alex also wanted David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson (best known as Fox Mulder and Dana Scully from The X-Files) to cameo on the show at one point

Danny DeVito apparently turned down a role on the show

[cupothi]

a collection of old stuff i did while trying to experiment with my older style + some xfiles cause i started watching it recently