#catchin up on old news

[randomfoggytiger]

The Evolution of Gillian Anderson's Friendship with David Duchovny

Early friendship:

He was an experienced actor when they started The X Files, she had been receiving unemployment benefit and had been in front of cameras only once before.

And she admits: "I desperately needed someone to show me the ropes and David did. He was wonderful."

There were rumours of a secret romance, which would have got them both fired on the spot. It is a strict studio rule that there will be no intimacy between the stars - off screen as well as on.

But Gillian did find love on The X Files, in the shape of assistant art director Clyde Klotz. And she did turn to Duchovny for advice after acting spontaneously on her wedding night, taking no precautions and finding herself pregnant.

She was horrified, believing she would get herself fired and ruin her career.

[“I went into his trailer,” she recalls, “and I said, ‘David, I’m pregnant.’ It looked like his knees buckled.... And he asked me if it was a good thing. I said, ‘Yeah, it is.’]

But her co-star, who was the only person she confided in apart from her husband, put Gillian's mind at ease.

He advised her not to have an abortion - that things would work out. And they did.

He kept her secret while Gillian thought things over for a month.

1995:

David Duchovny is not happy.....

Anderson, sensing Duchovny’s mood, looks down at his hand on her left shoulder and tries to brush it away, as if it were a mosquito. Then she turns and jumps into his arms, laughing, looking like a little girl making trouble for a protective older brother. Startled to be holding her, the smile on Duchovny’s face is forced no longer.

...“We really trust each other,” Duchovny says simply.

There is, between these two, a real-life camaraderie born of necessity, a friendship strong enough to survive too many work hours, and a chemistry powerful enough to rearrange the atoms on-screen. “Whenever we’re acting together,” says Anderson, “it’s there.”

1997:

But in real life, Duchovny and Anderson have a relationship as much a conundrum to outsiders as any X-File.

“We have a relationship that is completely odd and fabricated,” Duchovny says. “We’ve been thrown together, two people who don’t know each other, and we’ve been forced to spend more time together than married people do. So you can’t describe our relationship as ‘like’ or ‘dislike.’ ”

Sounds a little frosty.

“It is frosty,” Gillian Anderson agrees when she is read Duchovny’s description of their relationship. “But it’s accurate.” She laughs. “It’s not that we don’t like each other. It’s complicated.”

2008:

Question: Can you talk about getting back into these characters after a five or six year period?

David Duchovny: The first two weeks I felt a little awkward and I didn’t really feel like I wanted to do longer scenes. I was just fine running around. Then as soon as Gillian and I started working and it was Mulder and Scully, then I kind of remembered what it was all about and that relationship kind of anchored my performance just as I think the relationship anchors this film.

Shock: What’s that like with David now that you’re not with each other 16 hours a day on a series?

Anderson: It’s great, but it was great then, too. This is like a sibling relationship and I never had siblings.

What is your favourite thing about each other?

Duchovny: Gillian just doesn't give up.... She'll hang in there 'til we get it right.

Anderson: ...The easiest answer, I guess, is his sense of humour. He's always looking at the funny side of things, especially when he's around other actors who are comedians or funny themselves - it can turn into a bit of a contest to see who does the best impressions and such. But aside from that, there's a gentleness inside him that comes out every once in a while that is quite disarming and lovely. It's rare, but very nice.

2014:

Q: Was there a sense of almost a bunker mentality where you were at least going through this process with David? You mentioned he had more experience, he had done some bigger films but still the phenomenon that emerged within the first couple years was pretty remarkable. Did it help to have him there too and kind of like “Are you getting this too? Are you going through this too? Is this weird?” 

A: No. No, not really. We talk about the fact that it’s crazy that we didn’t. And that we didn’t take advantage of the fact that we had each other but it was complicated. These were long hours that we were working. We spent more time in each other’s presence than we did with our, you know, spouses and children, etc.

But also, you know, I think we p***ed each other off, quite frankly. And I have no doubt that after they’re waiting – we’re gonna roll and somebody has to come in and redo my lips and the difference between the maintenance for guys and gals and we’re shooting in all weather – you know, we never shut down except for one day for weather in the entire show.  We were shooting up in Vancouver through rain, sleet, everything. And my hair would frizz up to here in between takes and they’d have to get the blow dryer out under the tent and we’d be waiting for Gillian’s hair to do another take. You know, that p***es you right off. It adds up. So I, you know, I’m sure there were plenty of things he did that p***ed me off too. It just wasn’t, you know, but on the other hand.. NOW, we get to talk about that and we’re probably closer than we’ve ever been. 

2015:

Not surprisingly, she and Duchovny also became the story – according to the press, they were having an affair, hated each other or both. “I mean, yes, there were definitely periods when we hated each other.” She starts again. “Hate is too strong a word. We didn’t talk for long periods of time. It was intense, and we were both pains... for the other at various times.”

How was Duchovny a pain... for her? “Erm ...” Ten seconds pass without a word. Meanwhile, her smile gets wider and wider till it’s halfway up her cheeks. “I’m not going to get into it. I’m not even going to begin to get into that. But we are closer today than we ever have been.”

2016:

Anderson on working with Duchovny “Our relationship has definitely become a proper friendship over the last few years. I think we’re more on each other’s side. We’re more aware of the other’s needs, wants, concerns, and mindful to take those into consideration— and just sharing more about our experiences in the moment, under the sudden realization that we’re both in this together, and wouldn’t it be nice if it were a collaboration?”

2018:

They've worked together for 25 years but Gillian Anderson wants to make one thing clear: David Duchovny does NOT feature in her Ex Files.

While on screen their relationship left viewers wondering whether they would ever hook up romantically, Gillian says that off camera they were never very close.

In fact, she goes so far as to admit: "I don't know much about David Duchovny. If you asked me 10 things about him I'd probably get nine of them wrong."

...But now Gillian sets the record straight, saying: "We were never close. It's true we spent more time together than we have in any other relationship but it doesn't mean we were close.

"Very often when you're working long hours you may have a chit-chat between scenes but you're not really standing around talking about personal lives.

"And very often you don't have meals either at work or outside of work together because you're in each other's company all the time.

"So I actually don't know very much about David Duchovny, but we appreciate and respect each other."

2021:

Stella made a new friend today.

2023:

A huge congratulations to my old friend @davidduchovny on the world premiere of his film Bucky F***ing Dent @tribeca which he wrote, directed and stars in! A massive accomplishment and can’t wait to see it. (ps I’d say some of your prior writer / director gigs with me went pretty well and this was all just yesterday, right? 😉) #Tribeca2023

2024:

Awww Double D I’m so sorry. He was your guy. RIP Brick Duchovny

A comment from David, 2024:

"My former X-Files costar Gillian Anderson and I are really good friends. ...When you share a seminal kind of experience in your life-- the huge success we had with that show-- only we know what it's like to be in the center of that. It's almost like being in the same family...."

Last but not least:

"Looking forward to revealing some shared memories and new thoughts with my old friend.

Thank you @gilliana for joining me on this week’s episode of #FailBetter"

[randomfoggytiger]

hazelloveswally:

“On opening night we were in a van which Hutch Parker, the studio executive, had rented, and we drove from theatre to theatre watching how the movie was playing with different audiences, and we were at the back of the Chinese Theatre for this scene, for the near kiss….and it was a thousand people screaming when the kiss doesn’t happen. I just thought, well, first I thought, it will never get better than this, but then I thought of the power of these characters, that them not kissing in 1998 could cause a thousand people to scream.”

-Frank Spotnitz (The X Files: Fight the Future blu-ray commentary)

#REAL LIFE TROLLING #I CANNOT STOP LAUGHING AT THE IMAGE OF SPOTNITZ AND BOWMAN AND ESPECIALLY TROLL CARTER JUST DRIVING AROUND L.A. IN THEIR TROLL VAN

[randomfoggytiger]

CHRIS CARTER'S MISCOMMUNICATION: "Platonic", "Cerebral and Sexy", and the Romantic Dynamic of The X-Files

(Credit to: Melissa Walker)

**Disclaimer**: This writeup won't focus on character flaws, only on delving a little bit deeper to understand a perspective.

In this post, I explore Chris Carter's "cerebral" use of the word "platonic", and parcel out his MSR opinions during the first six seasons of The X-Files.

PART I: WILL-THEY-WON'T-THEY OR PLATONIC?

In August 1993, Chris Carter conducted his first promotional interview of The X-Files. Amongst other inspirations for the show, he drew namely from The Avengers's John Steed and Emma Peel as the cornerstones of the "Fox and Dana" partnership. “David and Gillian are very bright,” Carter said. “They truly are the characters. Their relationship is cerebral and subtly sexy. Fox and Dana remind me of John Steed and Emma Peel in ‘The Avengers.’”

To a generation who grew up watching one of the (then) most widely known will-they-won't-they in television, that comparison signaled allure, attraction, and simmering sexual tension. As @observeroftheuniverse's post here highlights, The Avengers often blatantly played with the romantic pull between Mr. Steed and Mrs. Peel. This article particularly articulates how freely the writers and actors discussed the indisputable fact of "something" going on between them: Peel’s verbal interactions with Steed range from witty banter to thinly disguised innuendo. Regarding the constant question of whether they had a sexual relationship at any time, Patrick Macnee [Steed's actor] thought the characters went to bed on a very regular basis (just not in view of the camera). However, Rigg [Peel's actress] thought they were most likely engaging in an enjoyable extended flirtation that ultimately went nowhere. Writer/producer Brian Clemens said he wrote them with the idea that they had an affair before Emma’s first appearance in the series,[6] and they certainly appear to already know each other very well when Emma is first introduced. And my own post here draws descriptions and quotes straight from each characters' Wikipedia page (and notes the similarities between Scully and Peel.)

However, after years of mixed responses, one clever reporter was able to get a clearer answer out of Carter in 1997:

RS: I’ve always wondered if you watched a show called “The Avengers.”

CC: Sure. Loved it. Mulder and Scully come from those characters, Emma Peel and what’s-his-name — Patrick MacNee. He was older than she was, so it was a sort of May-September, whatever you call it, relationship. It lacked sexual tension because of that quality. But I loved that sort of platonic thing.

And now you must be wondering: how? How did he not notice Steed and Peel's dynamic while remaining a big fan of the show, especially when he described their dynamic as "cerebral and sexy"?

Chris Carter, I posit, uses "platonic" when he means to say "sexual tension without decisive follow-through."

A bold claim. I'll prove it, too.

PART II: PLATONIC DOESN'T MEAN WHAT WE THINK IT MEANS

For the longest time, I assumed this double speak of Carter's was a form of outright lying. Don't get me wrong, he has and will lie when ego becomes involved, or when he wants to bait the "mystery" longer but can't think up a cleverer sleight of hand in the moment. But the truth, from the 1990s to the 2020s, is much simpler: he is telling the truth when he refers to Mulder and Scully as platonic.

Because "platonic", to Chris Carter, means "intellectually driven, sexually interested, non-sexually equal" all rolled into one. And, since he can't find a word that means "sexual without involving sex", he settles for one that strays from making a definitive either way.

In his interviews from 1993 to 1997 (which I explore in Part IV, see below~), he insisted that Mulder and Scully were friends, yet also stipulated they wouldn't end up together "on-screen"; and when comparing them to other sexually-charged partnerships, he repeatedly underscored his preferences for relationships that weren't "overtly sexual."

The nail in the coffin was a 1995 interview for Season 3--

AD: When you first explained Scully and Mulder to FOX, was it a point of sale that this was going to be purely working relationship, no love interest.

CC: I wanted it to be that way from the get-go, although I did want there to be sort of an underlying tension between the two of them because my feeling is when you put two smart people, a man and a woman, in a room, I don’t care whether or not they’re passionate about their life and their work, you’re going to get sexual tension out of that naturally.

AD: Yeah, the sort of Harry-met-Sally-with-brains-scenario.

--and its follow-up in January 1996--

Interviewer: How important is the sexual tension between the characters?

CC: I never wanted them to jump in the sack together because it was uninteresting to me. To me, the most sexual relationships are often the ones that are never realized, consummated or even spoken about. So I wanted this to be two smart people who work together, who happen to get along very well. Through their shared passion in their work, there is a natural chemical sexual tension that comes out of that, that doesn’t ever have to be spoken about, but it works.

Well then, why the double-speak and general lack of clarity?

Chris Carter often claimed he quite literally trusted no one, a self-protective measure that sprung from two alcoholic parents. One was sometimes-abusive, the other "ditzy" and detrimentally loose-lipped; and together, they always held rank, never backing down or apologizing for their wrongs. Humor and obfuscation, then, became his primary tool-- one minute he'd proclaim, “We can’t prove that it [abductions or paranormal activity] happened, but we can’t prove it didn’t”, and the next he'd seriously aver, "I’m a natural skeptic...."

The key to the truth lies in the repeatability of his claims: his oft-voiced skepticism in the paranormal far outweighed his infrequent, one-off jokes.

PART III: WHAT CC MEANS WHEN HE SAYS "PLATONIC"

The most telling piece of information-- the dirt on top of the coffin, if you will-- was a surprisingly open interview promoting Millennium.

Chris Carter's sincerest answer to the question of the "platonic" dichotomy was also his most vulnerable; and, upon realizing this blunder, he swiftly abandoned reflection and escaped through the realms of exaggeration-- a sign that his clarity was mixed with a little too much vulnerability.

February 20, 1997:

Interviewer: In both shows, I noticed, the male-female relationship is central and idealized. In “The X-Files,” it’s platonic. In “Millennium,” there’s a sort of idealized marriage between Frank Black and his wife.

CC: My feeling is that the most powerful relationships you have in life are … not sexual. You haven’t seen Lance Henriksen and Megan Gallagher in a sexual situation on Millennium. Between them, love is understood. Love is gesture and feeling and trust, and all those things, and it’s not necessarily a physical thing.

Interviewer: And the relationship between Scully and Mulder?

CC: It’s also like my kind of idealized romantic relationship. It’s two smart people in a room, arguing something when each one has a valid point of view. It’s like good dinner-party conversation. It’s what makes me feel alive — and good about myself. And I think there’s too little of it in most of our lives and particularly in romantic situations.

Here, the interviewer turned his questions from philosophy to possibility, leading Carter to quickly disengage and strike up hyperbole:

Interviewer: You were talking a second ago about gesture, and how Gallagher and Henriksen don’t really hug and kiss. What would happen if Scully and Mulder were to hug and kiss?

CC: They have hugged. They’ve never kissed. They could kiss if it was the right time for it. They could never give big French kisses. People say, “Will Mulder and Scully ever go to bed?” And I say, “You really don’t want them to.” Because the minute they do, then, basically, when they’re in that motel on their assignment, you know, investigating the appearance of extraterrestrial life somewhere, and they decide they’re finally going to get it on, they’re going to lie there sort of googly eyed in the morning, and those aliens are just going to be running amok. They will become more interested in themselves than in the things that they need to be doing.

He wasn't entirely wrong, either: their partnership and relationship would require-- in 1997, at least-- a lot of communication to get anywhere close to romantically stable. Fight the Future's "But you saved me" hadn't been uttered canonically; and neither character had the downtime of Season 6 yet to sort through and shift their priorities. As easy as it would be to slough off his exaggeration as another example of how little he understood the characters, Chris Carter's statement-- in truth-- pointed to how well he knew their dynamic.

Still, there remained a grain of truth to Chris's drama. He viewed (views) Mulder and Scully as two characters whose sexual attraction served to aid their quest, not detract from it; and feared that anything overtly sexual or "changed" between them would inevitably distract them from saving the world.

A challenging dynamic to understand until I realized it was one he shared it with his wife, Dori.

February 13, 1996:

But the demands of his work wear on his private life. “This is the first time Chris has seen me vertical in a few weeks,” said his wife, Dori, an elegant former screenwriter who flew up from Los Angeles to squeeze in a little private time with her husband.

August 2, 1998:

I work until at least 9.30 and I always work weekends. My wife’s staying in Santa Barbara is nothing to do with any kind of marital break-up. We’ve been together 16 years. It’s more that she’d rather be there and not see me than here and not see me. We speak all the time and its actually very romantic: I’d suggest it to anybody as a way of creating connection and desire.

She would like it if I were home more often, but she knows that I tend to feel a little obsessive and understands that I would probably be miserable if I had to live my life any differently right now. I’m not a workaholic, but when something hits and it’s good, you have to obey its demands.

For Chris Carter, obsessive focus-- as confirmed and reiterated by everyone in his life during The X-Files's run-- was lived without distraction.

During another 1997 interview, he doubled down (humorously, then solemnly) on the pathos of Mulder and Scully's situation.

1997:

Question from Dublin, OH (Sunil Karve): Hi Chris. On that terrible day when the series comes to an end, are you planning on having Mulder and Scully finally get to the “truth�� (and more importantly, be able to prove it?)

Carter: They’ll be too busy jumping each others’ bones.

Question from Los Angeles, CA (meredith): Recently you likened M & S’s relationship to the one in the movie “Remains of the Day”. For those of us who didn’t see that movie, what did you mean? Thanks.

Carter: I just meant, I thought it was more powerful that those two characters didn’t get together....

Question from North Syracuse, NY (Ellis): Will a romantic relationship develop between Mulder and Scully?

Carter: No romance.

PEOPLE: Ah the QUESTION…Why not?

Carter: More alien stuff is coming soon.

And yet, he took care to hint (blatantly at times) that Mulder and Scully would end up together after the nebulous, victorious conclusion. Not only as a possibility-- an inevitability.

PART IV: DESCRIBING MSR THROUGH CARTER'S EYES

Carter's descriptions of Mulder and Scully's partnership through the years didn't change... in substance, at least. His answers shifted depending on his devilish mood; but the underpinnings remained the same, all pointing to a similar, looming conclusion.

To illustrate this point, I've included as many statements as possible, barring repetition, dating from 1993 to 1997.

WRITING AND CASTING THE PILOT

"The Truth About Season One", post The Truth:

"It was very easy to cut Ethan out because he just slowed down the scenes where you would see Mulder and Scully together, which is where all the heat really was."

September 23, 1994:

I loved both David and Gillian from the start. And, yes, I chose them from hundreds of other actors who auditioned. The chemistry between them is just pure luck.

February 20, 1997:

[On casting Gillian Anderson] "You knew the chemistry was there with Dave and Gillian. That’s something you pray for, because you can’t manufacture it."

June 14, 1998:

“At the original auditions, I saw dozens of people but the moment David and Gillian walked in the room, I knew I’d found my Mulder and Scully. It was as if the skins I’d created fit these two people like gloves.”

SEASON 1

August 18, 1993:

“David and Gillian are very bright,” Carter said. “They truly are the characters. Their relationship is cerebral and subtly sexy. Fox and Dana remind me of John Steed and Emma Peel in ‘The Avengers.’”

November 30, 1993:

The relationship between Mulder and Scully is particularly promising. So far, it’s a low-voltage attraction. If it gets stronger, it won’t be because that’s the standard TV formula.

“It’s a relationship I’m not seeing on television,” says Carter. “It’s based on mutual respect, not something overtly sexual.”

SEASON 2

September 23, 1994:

LANGER: Chris, You brought back Tooms. Are there any plans to bring back the Eves or that guy who starts fires?

CARTER: Again, anything can happen. Except that Mulder and Scully sex scene.

MOONFERRET: Chris, We all know that the Mulder / Scully thing isn’t going to happen. I’m curious though– why exactly are you so opposed to this? You and the rest of the crew are great storytellers- I’m sure you could pull it off exceptionally. Why so opposed? (Do you get the feeling I’m one of the few that would love for it to happen? Call me vicarious…)

CARTER: Oh, Moonferret. If I could only make your dreams come true.

October 28, 1994:

“I had decided sometime after learning that she was pregnant (last winter) to shoot around Gillian’s pregnancy,” Carter said....

Carter considered making Scully a single mother, but he resisted domesticating the show. “I have chosen not to make the show about the characters’ lives,” he said. “The show works best as two FBI agents investigating paranormal or unexplained phenomena, and that’s what drives the show. If the stories don’t drive the show, then we’re working backward.”

December 1994:

Another source of praise for the show has been the unique relationship shared by the two main characters. Though there is chemistry between Anderson and Duchovny, the writers and actors take pains to maintain a tender but nonsexual relationship.

...As far as the sexual tension between the two goes, everyone involved in the series seems to agree that a full-blown romance is out of the question.

December 1994:

How close will Scully and Mulder get to the final truth in the current season of X-Files? Carter’s answer is as nebulous as any of last season’s answers. ‘I don’t think there is a final truth,” he says with a laugh. “There are problem final truths. We’ll just keep pushing."

SEASON 3

1995:

AD: When you first explained Scully and Mulder to FOX, was it a point of sale that this was going to be purely working relationship, no love interest.

CC: I wanted it to be that way from the get-go, although I did want there to be sort of an underlying tension between the two of them because my feeling is when you put two smart people, a man and a woman, in a room, I don’t care whether or not they’re passionate about their life and their work, you’re going to get sexual tension out of that naturally.

AD: Yeah, the sort of Harry-met-Sally-with-brains-scenario.

1995:

Q. Did you always have in mind a two-person cast, male and female?

A. The Mulder-Scully idea was there from the start. And I wanted to flip the gender types, so that Mulder, the male, would be the believer, the intuitive one, and Scully the skeptic, which is the more traditional male role. It was also important that Scully be Mulder’s equal in rank, intelligence, and ability–because in real life the FBI is a boy’s club–and I didn’t want her to take a back seat.

October 1995:

**Note**: Carter teases a lot during this interview, but his last answer is serious enough.

Melissa: The chemistry between Mulder and Scully is great. Will their relationship ever develop into more than just being partners and friends?

Chris Carter: They’ll find out they’re actually third cousins, four times removed.

Naber: With Mulder getting a girl [a topical Season 3 rumor], will we be seeing Scully having more of a personal life or a date?

Chris Carter: Scully will join a nunnery when she learns that Mulder has strayed.

Mary Paster: Rumors about a girlfriend for Agent Mulder have a lot of fans worried that this will ruin the “sexual tension” between him and Agent Scully — can you tell us anything about it to calm our fears?

Chris Carter: ...About Mulder’s girlfriend… don’t worry, I won’t let anything “ruin” Mulder and Scully.

December 24, 1995:

Q: As you know, there has been a lot of speculation that Scully is Samantha. [Agent Mulder’s sister, Samantha, was abducted by aliens when she was a child and never seen again, causing Mulder to become obsessed with UFO’s. If she were alive, she would be the same age as his partner, Dana Scully.]

A: [Chuckles] People with too much time on their hands.

Q: Can you tell fans that is definitely not the case?

A: That is not the case.

Q: There’s also speculation that Scully is a lesbian and that’s why there have been only fleeting mentions of past romance for her. Is Scully gay?

A: That is not the case either. I hate to answer anything definitely. But Scully is heterosexual.

January 1996:

Interviewer: How close to your original vision is what we get?

CC: I have to say that it’s extremely close to what I imagined. Of course, when I was sitting and writing the pilot, I never imagined episode 73, which is where we’ll be this year. Anyone who creates a show, I don’t think, can look that far down the road. But I did, indeed, have an idea about how the Mulder and Scully relationship would progress. 

Interviewer: How important is the sexual tension between the characters?

CC: I never wanted them to jump in the sack together because it was uninteresting to me. To me, the most sexual relationships are often the ones that are never realized, consummated or even spoken about. So I wanted this to be two smart people who work together, who happen to get along very well. Through their shared passion in their work, there is a natural chemical sexual tension that comes out of that, that doesn’t ever have to be spoken about, but it works.

May 13, 1996:

Since the very first episode, the slow-burn chemistry between Mulder and Scully has had fans in a delicious torment, debating the pros and cons of a romantic/sexual relationship, analyzing the details of each gesture, each word spoken by the characters.

On this subject Chris Carter is adamant. In numerous interviews, he has stated that there will be a relationship between the two main characters “when hell freezes over,” as he recently said in USA Today.

May 16, 1996:

Interviewer: Do chat types want romance between Mulder and Scully?

CC: They do and they don’t. They want elements of it without them jumping into the sack. There are these “relationshippers” who kind of dominate the online chats. I’m a little dismayed because I don’t want to do a show about fuzzy warm Mulder and Scully. Never.

SEASON 4 - SEASON 5

1997:

Question from Dublin, OH (Sunil Karve): Hi Chris. On that terrible day when the series comes to an end, are you planning on having Mulder and Scully finally get to the “truth” (and more importantly, be able to prove it?)

Carter: They’ll be too busy jumping each others’ bones.

Question from North Syracuse, NY (Ellis): Will a romantic relationship develop between Mulder and Scully?

Carter: No romance.

PEOPLE: Ah the QUESTION…Why not?

Carter: More alien stuff is coming soon.

February 20, 1997:

Interviewer: If the show is ever in trouble, don’t you think Fox would push you to have a romance?

CC: Oh, sure.

Interviewer: And how strong do you think you’ll be when that call comes?

CC: As I say, I may not be here by then, so I don’t know. But I would resist it, as I think the characters would. Or the actors that play them. That’s what The X-Files movies are going to be for.

FIGHT THE FUTURE

March 14, 1998:

[John Shiban] "Chris Carter has said that Mulder and Scully, in a way, are having a romance. Even though it’s not a sexual romance, this is a relationship and it is complicated. And sometimes they are at odds, sometimes they don’t agree, sometimes they are concerned for each other, they are worried that one is going to endanger themselves, etc. Sometimes those things aren’t resolved and we like to leave it lie(?) because it makes them more real to us and more interesting people if they have that kind of long-term up and down that you go through in a relationship like this."

May 1998:

TVG: There has also been a lot of buzz in the press about a scene in which Mulder and Scully kiss. You’ve often said you wouldn’t play that card, that they will never really take their professional relationship to an intimate, romantic level.

CC: Nor should they. I’m not saying it would never happen, but I think the characters, if they’re being true to themselves, would be careful about finding themselves in that entanglement.

June 1998:

Y’know, like do Mulder and Scully kiss?

“I think it would ruin the show,” Carter says, then adds, “I think it would wreck the X-Files if they had a relationship.”

Anderson chuckles: “What? Before we spot an alien, what are we going to do? Smooch?”

Reports Duchovny: “There is way too much history to be developed for them to have a carnal meeting.”

Besides, says Duchovny, smirking, “America wouldn’t stand for it.”

SEASON 6

October 1998:

[Talking about FTF's almost-kiss]:

“I think it’s a natural expression of the love these two people obviously have for one another. And that was an expression of that love, it’s not necessarily a perfectly…” Carter drifts off for a moment, stumbling for the right words to describe his thoughts on the matter. “It’s not a sexual expression. That they almost kiss isn’t stepping over a line that I think that neither of them are quite prepared to step over. But it’s a quite believable one,” Carter insists. “That it doesn’t happen, that’s part of the fun.”

Although Carter says Mulder and Scully’s relationship will be dealt with in Season Six, he does stick firm to one of his former proclamations: “I don’t see Mulder and Scully getting in the sack.”

December 1998:

“They are VERY complex characters. We played with Mulder and Scully’s belief systems in the fifth season. They’re both unmarried. They’ve both lost parents, and they’ve both lost them in a tragic way. Mulder and Scully have a lot to learn about life, I think, and they’re things that people have to learn as they move through their 30s and on into their 40s,” CC observes. “So, I really do think we’ve got a lot more to learn about our characters and about the conspiracy. I don’t think we’ll run out of ideas anytime soon.”

CONCLUSION

I started this exercise as a way to understand Chris Carter's thinking. Seeing the early days of his vision-- poking around in the limitations of his verbiage, finding that a deeper relationship was always in the cards (even if kept back from the table)-- was informative and intriguing.

(What really interested me-- which I couldn't include here-- was the revelation that Gillian Anderson was of the same mind concerning Mulder and Scully's partnership. It was actually David Duchovny who later became curious to explore a more personal relationship between the two. Which explains The Unnatural, I'd bet.)

And that's where we leave off on this platonic miscommunication.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files's Set of Pranksters

By most accounts, Anderson is the biggest prankster on a set filled with them.

People have been known to hide under desks during filming, popping out at inopportune moments. There was the “Day in the Life of the X-Files” gag videotape sent to a Fox executive, lampooning a typical day’s shoot. And there was the infamous mooning of the camera at a Christmas party.

On this day, at any given time, several people are walking around with clothespins stuck all over their clothes. It’s a running gag with the crew, to clip as many clothespins to each other’s clothes as possible, without the victim knowing.

“Last year (director) Rob Bowman and I would try to pin clothespins on each other regularly,” Anderson says. “I won with 37 at once on this big red coat of his.”

(Source, 1996)

“Occasionally, when I get real tired, I just want to start making stuff up,” jokes Mitch. So what’s the best gag they’ve come up with?

“That David’s having a testicle reduction,” Nick announces, straight-faced, and the pair of them crack up with laughter.

(Source, 1996)

[randomfoggytiger]

David Duchovny and Celebrities

Just some pics I've found while catching up~

1990s: Maggie Wheeler

1990s: Winona Ryder

1996: David Duchovny, Jane Leeves, and Peri Gilpin

1997: Peri Gilpin

1997: George Clooney

1997: Angelina Jolie

2000: Minnie Driver

2004: Carrie Fisher

2006: Julianne Moore

2006: Maggie Gyllenhaal

2006: Craig Ferguson

2007: Robin Williams

2007:

2023:  Julia Louis-Dreyfus

2023: Logan Marshall-Green and Stephanie Beatriz

2024: Pedro Pascal 

2024: Meg Ryan

2024: David Nutter and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

[randomfoggytiger]

freyatlast:

They just have the strangest relationship. They can barely talk about it without making it sound crazy and fraught. I mean, most people can talk about a tense (?) relationship in their life and manage to smooth it over. But these two are always like, “It’s possible we hated each other, but, you know, we are pansexual icon soulmates, and we have no idea how we feel.” Then they act like we are the weird ones for not understanding.

(In the video, when she says, “boy, did we try!” he gives her this side-elbow-nudge and laughs at how silly they are and it’s the cutest thing ever.)

David: Like, in life you have chemistry with people… you also have that as an actor. And you don’t have any control over it, as in life. You know, we were lucky, as Gillian said. Gillian: It’s almost despite us, somehow. David: Whereas we tried, we tried not to have it. Gillian: [laughing] Boy, did we try!

 - Early Show, July 2008

[randomfoggytiger]

Gillian Anderson Helped Create Scully's Season 8 Theme

“Anderson wanted to include "The Sky Is Broken", a song from Moby's 1999 album Play in the episode, as she felt that the song's lyrics "fit with [the] idea that was unfolding for the script".[17] Anderson crafted the first shot after the opening credits, which involved Scully getting ready while water dripped from a sink, to create a "continuation of sound, rhythmic sound", because it was important to the show's musical aspect.[18] Anderson and series composer Mark Snow worked together in post-production; after filming, she sent Snow several CDs of music and asked him for compositions that were similar in style and feel.[19] A certain melody that the two worked on later became "Scully's Theme", which was not broadcast until the eighth season episode "Within".[20]

-all things Commentary, Wikipedia

[jimmyjeans]

(In a dying old man's voice) It's... been... two fucking months...

HI AGAIN, sorry for not posting for TWO FULL MONTHS (other than answering some asks and reblogging some stuff), being a STEM student, as I have discovered, is very very exhausting and time-consuming. :[

BUT but but but but! Holiday break is just right around the corner! Meaning that I can spend that break actually drawing (and maybe animating), so uh look forward to that, I guess?

[henry7931]

Playing in the Attic

Kenton:

Chris and I are cousins (the youngest in the family), our whole family is gettin together this weekend at my Uncle Al’s house for his big birthday celebration. I was so excited to see Chris that I talked my dad into letting me come stay with them a night early. Al (my dad’s older brother) is Chris’s dad and when I got there I was surprised to see that my other uncle Tim (my dad’s younger brother) came to stay early as well.

Chris and I were having a good time catchin up but then Chris brought up how his dad never lets him go into the attic.

So curious me, talked Chris into going upstairs. We waited until we knew Uncle Tim and Al were too busy to notice that we snuck upstairs.

Both of us sneaked our way up and opened the door. We quietly shut it behind us and giggled out of excitement to see what’s upstairs.

Once the door was shut, we found a light to turn on. And both of us were surprised to only find one small box.

“What the heck? What do you thinks in it?” I said to Chris.

“I don’t know, should we open it?”

I gave him a mischievous grin and said, “we made it this far!”

I walked over and carefully took the lid off. Inside was an old lookin statue.

“Booo!!! That’s not exciting at all!”

I grab it and show it Chris and immediately felt strange. Chris touches it as well.

And that’s when things got crazy!!!!

One second we’re upstairs. And the next the second I’m in his living room looking at Uncle Tim.

I look down and notice my tummy is huge! So arms and my feet!!!

I wiggle my toes just to make it’s not a dream.

I look over at Uncle Tim and he looks just as confused as me!

“Uncle Tim?”

Uhhh no…. Dad?”

“Nope!,” I say back to him.

That’s when I start to put some of the pieces together.

I get up and go to the closet mirror I could find. That’s where i see my Uncle Al staring back at me!

“Holy crap!!!,” I say out loud giggling.

I turn over to Uncle Tim, “it’s me Kenton!”

“Kenton!!! I’m Chris or I guess—“ Chris looks at his new reflection seeing Tim’s face looking back.

“IM UNCLE TIM!!!”

We both grin excited about our new discovery.

“Wait a minute what about our bodies?!?”

We both dash up to the attic and see both of our bodies lying on the ground.

“Wow! That’s freaky!”

“So where is my dad and Tim if they aren’t us?”

“I don’t know maybe they’re still in here with us but we’re in control?”

“Freaky!!”

“Here grab your body and I’ll grab mine. Just don’t touch that status.”

“Haha okay!”

We both carefully pick ourselves up and it’s so funny carrying myself. I’m so light with Uncle Al’s big arms.

We place our bodies in bed and head back downstairs.

That night was the most phone I think I’ve had in a long time!!

Chris and I went out on the town. We went shopping, I bought Uncle Al a couple of things I thought he’d look cool in. I also got Chris all of the video games he’s wanted the last of couple months since I’m now his dad.

After we got dinner and I tries sushi for the first time. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it but Chris and Al eat here all of the time. Even the waiter knew Uncle Al’s order.

I didn’t want to make it weird so when he asked me if I’m going to have ‘my usual’ I said sure!

It was actually pretty good!

That night Chris and I got into some bathing suits and went into the hot tub together. We even both had a couple of beers which I kinda liked as well.

By 3 am both of were so tired, Chris and I went upstairs to bed. We both tugged off our clothes and was surprised that Chris got completely naked in Tim’s body.

I looked at him from head to toe, covered in hair— I pull off Uncle Al’s bathing suit and his junk came flying out.

“Kenton!! I don’t wanna see all of my dad!!”

“Well you started it!”

Chris and I laid in bed together. I couldn’t help but stare at both of our naked bodies. I kinda liked the way we looked.

I looked at Al’s big feet and rubbed them against Tim’s big feet.

Chris gave me a look and I said, “what??? These big feet are cold! I was hopin I could warm them up with yours.”

“Ugh fine!”

We wrapped our new big feet together. And I felt a rush go through me. I looked at his hairy belly, I wanna run my fingers through it but I stopped myself.

“You ready to go to bed?”

“Yeah I’m sleepy!”

The next morning I wake up and looked down at myself. I’m still uncle Al, I look over and Chris in Uncle Tim’s body still sleeping.

I pull back the covers and look at Al’s junk. I get a little handsy and start playing with it.

I try to slow myself down but it feels sooo good.

I watch my uncles big hands go back and forth. I rub his big feet together and rub my other hand up and down his hairy chest.

I tug faster and faster about 15 minutes until I make a mess everywhere!

Chris wakes up and doesn’t seem to notice the mess I just made.

He grins at me with half open eyes and says good morning. He gets up and heads to the bathroom. I guess he had to go real bad.

I get up as well and I pass the other room. I can hear Chris, he’s making a lot of noise in there.

I carefully crack the door open and see he’s standing in the shower tugging away at Tim’s junk!

I back away from the door and let him finish up.

Today’s the day everyone is coming over so I knew our fun had to end.

Chris walks out and I tell him we should probably get dressed and try to figure out the statue.

After we get ready both of us head back upstairs. I look at the statue and without much of a plan I say to him, “I guess let’s just grab it?”

We grab it and the same time. I feel kinda funny again but nothing happens!

“Well… that’s not good,” he says to me.

We both go back downstairs…

That’s when we hear voices coming from Chris’s room… it’s our voices!

2 months later…

So… turns out that when we touched that statue that just put Uncle Al and Tim right into our bodies.

We were in sooo much trouble! Especially when we found out that we couldn’t switch back to our bodies for an entire year!

Soo now im uncle Al for a very long time and Chris is gonna be Tim for a while as well.

But it’s all good, neither Al or Tim are mad at us anymore. No one in our family knows about it outside of us. So Tim lives full time with me in Chris’s body.

And the best part is Chris comes over every weekend! And we still get have a lot of fun even if Uncle Tim gets annoyed with us. Who cares! We’re the ones in charge now!

[randomfoggytiger]

The rare "Mulder solely focused on Scully."

The rare "Scully clingy to Mulder."

Top it off with a Frank Spotnitz quote and almost zero PDA.

Perfect.

You know these people love each other; they don’t need to say it. - Frank Spotnitz, DVD commentary for “Memento Mori”

[nickfowlerrr]

long way home

GIF by lilacevans

pairing: dark!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. cnc smut. spanking. unprotected sex. use of the word ‘daddy’ but not pertaining to lee. fluffy ending!

words: 4.7k

notes: truly cannot believe i finally finished this lol. this is as self indulgent as ever but hey that’s the way fanfic should be imo. 😌 anyway! thank you in advance for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

comments and reblogs always welcome and always appreciated. 🫶🏻

The sirens that start sounding just moments after you pass the curve of the desolate road have your heart lurching and stomach dropping.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you mutter pathetically as you try to take a deep calming breath.

You signal you’re going to pull over and the sheriff’s car follows behind you.

It’s late and there aren’t any other cars around as the sun sets on the horizon. It’s nearly 90° out, cooler than the day had been earlier, but the heat is still suffocating. You can’t fathom wanting to pull someone over right now.

You get your wallet out and grab the envelope that holds your insurance and technically out of date registration. You’re sure you know what this will be about.

As you watch the Sheriff emerge from his cruiser, you almost pity him as he wears what you can only assume is a very scratchy uniform. Long sleeves, pants, and a ridiculous looking hat. You don’t really feel bad though, he did this to himself.

As he approaches the back of your car, he squints as he looks into your vehicle. His hands find his belt as he saunters closer, a toothpick in his mouth that he plays with.

Your anxiousness builds as he takes his sweet time getting to your window.

You greet him with a forced smile as he leans down, slapping one hand on the hood of your car while he peers down at you, getting closer.

“Hi,” you offer timidly.

“Evenin��, darlin’,” he drawls as he takes you in; clear blue eyes roving you up and down, twinkling with something…off putting. When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue moves his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You know why I stopped you?”

“My tags,” you answer, earning a squint from him.

“Your tags?”

“Was that,” your eyes round, “not why?”

He chuckles, “You got a light out, darlin’.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he responds dully. “Expired tags, ya said?”

“Well,” you start, “they’re not exactly expired. The ones on my car are old, but the registration was paid for. I just don’t have the stickers yet,” you try to explain.

“Long way from home, aren’t ya?”

“Uhm,” your brows furrow before you can school yourself at his change of subject, “I- yeah. Just passing through on my way back.”

“Hm.”

It’s quiet between you as the air grows tense. You don’t know what to do or say, you just wait for him to continue.

“If I run your plates, am I gonna be catchin’ you in a lie?”

You stare dumbly for half a second. “Uhm, I don’t… I dont know how it’ll look or show up. I need to get my car smogged before I can get the new tags,” you admit, “but the registration is paid for. My dad paid it, he sent me the receipt and everything, I can pull it-“

“Daddy’s girl, huh?”

Your words cut off instantly but your lips stay parted in a sort of shock. Did he actually just say that? Ew. Your stomach roils at his words. At the way he’s looking at you, leaning into your car.

You titter, an uneasy sound escaping you as you give a wince of a smile. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

“I,” you breathe, don’t make matters worse, “yeah, I guess I am,” you shrug, offering a close lipped attempt at a smile.

Your response gets a wicked grin from him as he laughs and it makes you feel disgusting. You have to suppress the shudder that threatens to give away your agitation.

He isn’t an ugly guy, far from it if you’re being honest, but this is entirely inappropriate. You’re all alone out here with this man, a sheriff at that, and his creeping on you is verging from annoying to scary.

“Well unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I don’t think your daddy’s gonna be able to get you outta this one.”

His blue eyes are darker now and his voice is lower as he drawls his words.

Your heart stutters in your chest, squeezing as anxiety seizes you.

“What, what do you mean, sir?” you eek out through your tight throat, lashes fluttering as you search his eyes for any sort of humor, a sign that things aren’t as serious as he’s just made them sound.

“Well, you got a tail light out, old tags on your car, and your registration may be paid but that doesn’t mean it’s been renewed. I’d hate to have to take you in for somethin-“

“Take me in?” your voice raises despite yourself, “why would you take me in? You can just give me the tickets, I’m not arguing, I-“

“Did it sound like I was finished talkin’, darlin’?” he says, voice level but firm as he eyes you sharply.

Your mouth is open in your stupor before you answer, “No, sir,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“As I was sayin’,” he cuts you off, spitting out his toothpick at his feet before his gaze cuts back up to you. He kisses his teeth as he stares down at you, “I’d hate to have to take you in over somethin’ that could be…easily resolved.” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look.

You’re disgusted.

This man is disgusting.

But there is no way he’s insinuating what he seems to be insinuating.

“Right, sir. I will get everything taken care of right away,” you nod with an anxious smile. Maybe playing dumb is the way to go here.

He tsks and your stomach drops right along with your smile.

“You know, the law here states that a driver gettin’ pulled over in an unregistered vehicle can result in said vehicle bein’ towed and said driver gettin’ their license suspended.”

You swallow hard as you let him continue, trying to will away the welling tears threatening to form in your eyes while you work to steady your breathing.

He sticks his palm out expectantly. Your brows furrow as you look at him until he instructs you. “License, darlin’.”

You scramble and find it in your wallet, handing it to him. His hand closes on yours as you place it in his hand and you force yourself not to jerk away too harshly as you pull your hand from his.

He examines your license as you wait with bated breath. You wish you could just put your car in drive and forget this stop ever happened.

“Really are a long way from home,” he muses. He drawls your name and flashes his eyes back to you for a split second. “Hm. Little old to have your daddy payin’ your bills, don’t ya think?”

You don’t respond. Shame and guilt at the reminder of your folly nipping at you again - worse now under the gaze of this man. You look at his badge as he keeps reading your license. Bodecker.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not judgin’ ya,” he smiles as he hands your license back to you, held between two fingers. You try to meet his eye but your embarrassment and anxiety keep you from holding it long as you slowly reach to take it back.

“I’ve always been under the belief that pretty ladies like yourself shouldn’t have to take care’a things like that on their own. Should have a man to take care of ‘em. 

Seein’ as that man’s still your daddy, I’m assumin’ you haven’t found someone for yourself yet,” he eyes you, “now how’s a gorgeous girl like you single?”

Your skin is crawling but deep down you’re almost grateful for the distraction from your law breaking. 

Almost.

“Sorry, sir, officer-“

“Sheriff,” he corrects.

“Sheriff. Am I getting ticketed, or…?” you trail off. Agitation ticks in his jaw and you regret not playing along and answering his question immediately.  “It’s just, it’s a long drive and I was hoping to make it home by tomorrow night,” you swallow hard, unconsciously clenching your jaw as you tense up.

“Right,” he scoffs. “Well…” he takes a deep breath, “looks to me like we got two options here, darlin’. And ticketing ain’t one of ‘em. Why don’t you do me a favor,” he says, stepping away from your door slightly, “turn off the engine and step outta the vehicle for me.”

“Sheriff?'' Your voice is quiet, undertoned with the terror you feel creeping up your spine. Why do you need to get out of your car? Why did your taillight have to go out? Why did you have to open your stupid mouth before he even told you what he was pulling you over for? Why did you have to drive through this stupid little town to begin with!

“I’m bein’ nice, sweetheart. Now you can either get outta the vehicle or I can remove you from it and put you in the back’a my own.” The turn of his voice, the dark shift in his eyes, you don’t have it in you to not listen to him.

You shut off the car, unbuckling your seatbelt, and slowly grab the door handle, breathing deeply as you push it open and step out.

God, it’s hot. You hold back a whine at the humidity that surrounds you and shift uncomfortably before the sheriff. He’s tall, and ten times more intimidating now that there’s not a metal barrier between you. You pull on the strap of your tank top as you wait for his next instruction.

“Keys,” he orders, holding out his hand.

You’re frozen despite the heat as you look at him with rounded, unsure eyes. You clutch them tighter in your hand.

You stutter a breath as he steps closer to you. He stares in your eyes as he grabs your hand and takes the set of keys easily before he strides past you back to his cruiser. You follow him with your eyes, turning your head to watch him over your shoulder.

He throws your keys into his car along with his hat before he shuts the door and comes back toward you.

“Two options,” he repeats as he stands behind you. “I think I know which one would be best for both of us.”

You feel heavy hands grip your hips and you shudder under his touch, a sharp gasp leaving you as you’re yanked back into the sheriff’s body. He’s groping you. He’s groping you and there’s no one around to see or stop him. There’s no one around to help you. There’s nothing you can do.

“Either I call a tow and get your vehicle taken down to the yard and take you in the back of my cruiser,” he rumbles in your ear as he leans into you, “or,” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw as he lowers his head toward your neck,

“And this is the option I’m rootin’ for-” he smirks, “-you get down on your knees and take care’a this,” he intones as he grinds his stiffness into your backside, earning a breathy squeaky from you as you squeeze your eyes shut. Praying to anyone who might be listening that this is all just a bad dream, that it isn’t real. “And I’ll take care’a you, darlin’,” he simpers darkly, his hands slithering down your body as he gropes you without care. You can’t do so much as eke out a word as he touches you. You want to scream, tell him to stop, to just take you to his station and tow the damn car. But you can’t. And even if you could… where does that leave you? Your parents have done so much for you already - too much. You can’t put more on them, can’t keep running to them to solve your problems. The sheriff was right, you realize, your dad isn’t gonna be able to get you out of this.

No one can.

You won’t be able to afford getting your car out, and you won’t have any way home.

He says you have two options. But it seems you both know that you only really have one.

“Mm,” he hums as he squeezes your hips and tummy, his thumb rubbing along the exposed skin at the hem of your top, “you’re soft.”

His hands slide around your body, pressing on your stomach as he works one down the front of your leggings.

It’s in the blink of an eye that you find yourself pressed against the side of your car, the sheriff firm on your back as he holds you in place. He has one arm around your waist as his other is down your pants. He forces a leg between yours as he urges you to spread them for him. Your knees hit the car as you begin to struggle and your chest squeezes.

The sheriff shoves himself hard against you and your body is forced even more firmly to your car as you cry out at the force. You grab onto his forearm as his thick fingers rub against your covered cunt.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, “none’a that now, sweetheart,” he rubs himself against your ass. His fingers don’t stop as they pull at the fabric of your underwear, finally getting the access he was looking for.

He chuckles and tears prick at your eyes in your mortification as you mewl pathetically, hiding your face against the car - your wetness undeniable as he delves between your folds. You groan as he pokes at your entrance. He swirls around your wetness and drags his fingers up your sex. He nudges your clit and your breath catches at the shock.

“There she is,” he smirks, his lips against your cheek. He presses on your clit and rubs the button in sloppy circles as your voice raises despite yourself.

“Sheriff, please,” you quake under his touch. You’re firm against your car as he keeps you pressed with his weight.

“You ain’t gotta beg, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you need.”

It sounds like a taunt as you teeter on the edge. His fingers work you closer and closer to your unwanted high and as you tense and a desperate moan leaves you, a deep moan sounds from him in turn. “You’re almost there, ain’tcha,” he breathes harshly. 

Your eyes stay screwed shut as you try to block him out while your nerve endings blaze in the building tension. That coil deep inside you winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

“That was a question, darlin’, fuckin’ answer it,” he growls meanly in your ear as he jerks you against the car again.

“Yes,” you cry, not bothering to lie. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” you murmur pathetically as that coil finally snaps and your orgasm crashes over you. You hold onto his arm without thinking as you come and barely register when he kisses your hair softly, keeping you upright and against him as you come down; your soft cries like music to his ears.

He slips his hand from your pants and you let go of him, leaning on the car instead as you try to calm your breathing. 

“Much as I’d like to feel that sweet little mouth a’yours around me,” he sniffs, “be a damn shame to not fill you up when your pussy’s cryin’ for me like she is.” The sound of his belt jingling and his zipper cutting through the air has you spinning around in horror.

“No, please. You can’t do this,” you whimper, “please, sir, I-”

You’re cut off by the sheriff’s hand gripping your jaw as he squeezes harshly while you look at him with pleading eyes and puffy cheeks.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, sweetheart,” he sneers in your face, “I can do whatever the hell I want to do, whenever the hell I want to do it, you understand me?”

It’s a question you know he’s expecting an answer to as you struggle out a “yes” through his tight grip.

He lets go of your face and moves to take your arm, his grip still as tight and harsh. You can feel his strength in every move he makes against you. “Walk,” he instructs as he urges you from your car and toward his cruiser.

You can’t breathe as a renewed wave of anxiety flows through you the closer to the back of the car you get. “Wait, you said-”

“I know what I said,” he interrupts you, stopping you in your walk as he gets in front of you to pull open the back door of his cruiser. “You ain’t in handcuffs, now, are you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Then quit your blubberin’.”

He grabs you close again, quickly and easily shoving you down face first into the back of the car. You squeal and hold yourself up on the seat as he pulls your hips against him while he stands behind you, his back to the empty road. You’re only half inside the car as you feel him tear down your leggings and underwear. If someone were to drive by right now, they’d get quite the show as the sheriff shimmies down his still undone pants in kind. You’re grateful, at least, that you can’t see anything. Of course you know what’s coming next, but you won’t have to watch it, or have him see your face in this position.

The unexpected slap he lands on your ass has you yelping at the sting as he snickers, rubbing the spot gently before he does it again. 

“You like that, darlin’? I can see you gettin’ wetter already,” he taunts as he pushes the small of your back down, arching you more while he admires your cunt from behind. You feel his fingers as he rubs at you, dipping them past your entrance, slipping them in up to his knuckle while you huff through your nose, trying to hold back a moan as he wiggles them before slipping them back out.

You don’t know why you’re so shocked when the next thing you feel is his cock pushing into you. No verbal warning, just his heavy hand on your hip as he guides himself into your tight hole. He’s thick, thicker than you’ve ever had, and you want to die at the moan that floats past your lips as he groans in his delight as you're wrapped tightly around his length. His fingers flex on your hip as he frames your other side in kind, holding tightly onto you while he inches deeper inside your walls. He gets to your limit and holds himself there for a long moment. Your body moves on its own, your hips wiggling just the slightest in search of some kind of friction. 

You feel yourself heat up more in your embarrassment as he groans again, “knew you’d like this,” he says smugly.

You gasp sharply as he begins to move again, sliding almost all the way out of you before pushing right back in, your tight resistance spurring him on as your walls squeeze him snuggly. In then out, over and over again, his thick cock filling you up. With every thrust into you, he makes sure you feel every single inch of him.

Your wetness is undeniable, you can hear the lewd sounds of your fucking loud and clear as you’re rocked between him and the leather seats. The slapping of his hips against your ass and his heavy pants and growls as he grips you tightly, it all adds to the building, buzzing sensation growing inside of you. 

“Goddamn tight,” he pants, pulling you back into him by your hips as he fucks you hard, his movements growing more erratic the closer he gets. “Gonna make me bust inside a’you, darlin’. Fill you up nice and full’a my jizz,” he breathes heavily, groaning and slapping your ass hard, groping you as he moves you back and forth on his thick length.

You mewl, fingers clawing at the leather beneath you, your eyes scrunched in your thieved pleasure as you meet his thrusts. You don’t want this, but it feels so good. His cock hits that certain spot just right, and you can’t stop yourself from fucking him back in search of more. It’s awful, and it feels like heaven.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust,” he moans, one hand slipping from your hip down to find your clit. Your walls clench around him as he winds you tighter with his touch. You don’t have a voice as you squeak a moan, eyes rolling as you drone out mindlessly, completely cock drunk as he slams into you, chasing his orgasm.

You're overcome by your own, blindingly so as the sheriff works you through it. You quake beneath him and suddenly feel the hot spurts of his come as he lets go inside of you, curses tumbling from his lips as he does, his hold on you never faltering. 

Slowly he comes down, chuckling through heavy breaths as he loosens his grip on you, instead rubbing circles on your hip.

You’re both breathing hard and you turn around gingerly to look at him, still holding yourself up on your arms. He’s pulling his pants up and zipping his fly when you both hear a rumbling approaching from behind the curve of the road just behind where you’re parked. Your brow is quirked as you listen. Head still foggy from your orgasm, you don’t piece together what the sound is. 

“Shit,” he curses as he fumbles with his belt, working quick to fasten it. “Get in, lay down, darlin’,” he instructs, pushing you back gently and closing the door on you just as you see headlights coming up from around the curve. 

You heed his instructions and lay down on the seat, heart racing, adrenaline pumping as you strain to listen past the doors of the cruiser.

You hear the car that was approaching slow down as they come up on the scene of your two cars, clearly curious. No one ever takes this back road, not even the oldtimers - not unless traffic is really bad on the main highway. But it’s late on a Sunday night, the highway is surely clear, and so should this road be, too.

“Sheriff Bodecker,” an old voice croons, “is that you, dear?”

“Ah, Mrs. Greenly,” the sheriff greets, “how are ya, ma’am?”

“Just fine, Sheriff. Comin’ back in from pickin’ up Walter’s medicine outta town. Everything alright out here?”

“Everything’s fine, ma’am. Just an abandoned vehicle we got a call about, had to come check it out before we call for a tow,” he nods toward your car. “Nothin’ to worry about,” he smiles.

“Oh,” she accepts, “well, you have a nice night, Sheriff. Stay safe.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You have a nice night, now,” he returns.

“And tell your little lady I said hello,”

“I certainly will,” he smiles again, nodding at her as she does the same.

You listen as she drives off, picking back up her speed as she does.

You hear the steps he takes as the sheriff comes back over to the door. You stare hard at him as he opens it to you and you sit up.

“What was it you said about this road never being used?” 

He laughs, leaning down close to you, taking your face gently in his hands before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as you lean up into his touch, kissing him back just as fervently. A sudden desperation coming over you, you try to pull him down with you, to be closer.

He breaks away with a heavy breath, eyes closed as he presses his forehead to yours. When he opens them, you’re met with brilliant blue eyes gazing back at you. 

“I don’t recall usin’ the word ‘never’,” he evades as you shake your head at him.

“Lee Bodecker,” you say, pulling him down further into the backseat with you as you wind your arms around his neck, “you sir, are a menace. A silver tongued devil.”

He smirks and kisses you again before he gets off of you, getting out of the car and standing up with a groan. He holds his hand out for you and you take it as he helps you out of the car. There’s a sticky mess between your legs but you ignore it as you pull your leggings all the way back up.

Lee closes the door and turns you so your back is against it as he stands in front of you.

“But did you like it?” He asks, leaning into you just a bit.

You bite down your smile and nod, “Yeah, I did.”

“Knew you would,” he says against your lips as he kisses you again. His hands fall to your waist as he holds you. “You were real’ convincin’, too. Almost had me second guessin’ myself.”

You titter at that, “Yeah?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “But then I heard that sweet little moan a yours.” 

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur softly as his lips tickle yours. Just barely touching as you breathe him in.

“Well,” he kisses your lips softly one last time before he pulls away from you completely, “it’s hot as hell out here, sweetheart,” he walks around to the passenger door of the cruiser and opens it for you. “Why don’t I take you home and see if I can’t get any other sounds outta ya,” he simpers. You meet him at the door, standing before him with a raised brow. “Been killin’ me not hearin’ my name fall from your pretty lips all night.”

You smile as you touch his cheek. “You wanna hear me moan your name?” Lee purrs in your attention as he steps closer to you. You smirk and bend to get into the car. “Gonna have to make me.”

He licks his lips as he watches you, closing the door for you once you’re settled. He gets in on the driver’s side and you continues, "But first I'm gonna need a shower. And a lotta cuddles," you add with a soft smile as you peer at him with loving eyes.

"I can do that," he agrees, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile, his gaze just as soft for you.

"Home we go, then," you simper.

He turns his head back to the windshield and huffs as he takes notice of your car again.

He looks at you in exasperation, sighing. “You and this damn car.”

You look back sharply in challenge.

“Look, I already told ya I’m not lettin’ you drive all the way across the country alone in that thing. And I know your dad already paid your fees, but…” he sighs again and you wait for him to continue as you keep your eyes on his. “What’s it gonna take to get you to finally register it here, huh? It’s been two years. And I shoulda given you a ticket for it 22 months ago,” he adds.

You laugh, “Shoulda, coulda, but you didn’t.”

He narrows his eyes at you but it only makes you laugh more.

“It’s not my fault you flirted instead of ticketing,” you grin as you lean over the console to kiss him. “But I am grateful for it.”

You sit back down in your seat and buckle your belt as Lee hides his own smile at the memory of your first meeting, putting the car in drive as he rolls up to yours. 

“Gotta grab your wallet,” he says as he stops and gets out. You watch him as he does, admiring him - and weighing his previous question.

He gets back in, handing your wallet to you before he starts driving again, heading back into town.

“It’d be a bit of a hassle, ya know,” you muse aloud, “having to register here, getting a new id, new license, all that. Seems a little pointless just to change the state I’m living in…Now if there was something else that needed changing, something more important, something like,” you sigh dramatically, “my name, for instance, well then maybe that’d get me to finally do it,” you shrug. Lee looks over to you so quick at the mention of changing your name, you almost worry he might’ve hurt himself, but the lopsided grin that lights up his face assures you he’s just fine.

“Two years is a good while,” you add with a small smile of your own. “Plus, this place,” you emphasize, hoping he gets your meaning, him, you think as you reach for his free hand while he steers with his left, “feels a lot more like home than home ever has.”

[6saints]

Delicate

Yandere! Merman x Reader

18+ - gore and smut

Chapter two

—

It is in human nature to be deleterious. To be a cancerous leech plundering on the natural resources Earth had to offer. Human nature entails dominance over any being deemed inferior, to find amusement and comfort in the technology the big bad business men advertise. They are wolves selling a fallacy of hope to the selfish humans who pray for an advanced civilization; all while stuffing their pockets with gold and giving blessings to the sick.

That homeless man may have been right about the end of the world, or those hippies chaining themselves to trees or even those laughable metal straw ads everyone would skip. Had anybody listened to the fanatical people of the early 70's, perhaps the state of the earth would never have gotten so dilapidated. Magazines and newspapers were thrown out for billboards, projectors and little technological pockets of information. The news always the same, yet always afflictive to the weak little hearts of the people. Every day was a new animal, new country, new city being destroyed by one man made thing or the other.

That was how he was raised. To despise humans and their technology, the same filth congesting his oceans and killing any and all marine life.

His first encounter with humans had been just a decade ago. Fishing vessels weren't common near Silnich shores therefore, his entire childhood had gone relatively unoccupied. Socialization was rare, even amongst his own species, so when a Trawler spurred against empty waters the half-fish was naturally whelmed with vague interest.

It was a melancholy night; ashen clouds covering the darkness. The waters were desolate, a lonely ambience surrounding the waves and empty sky. Zero lights, he had thought to himself, his diaphanous tail swishing beneath himself. Occasionally, if he was lucky, yellow, red, purple and even blue dots would scatter behind clouds and a pale moon would situate itself at their side.

He recalled an old friend, a merman and traveller, had once mentioned calling them stars. That humans could see them up close, that they could dance and fly among them; a laughable notion considering only birds could do such a thing. Humans were widely regarded as stupid and rather begrimed; a soiled species responsible for the odd materials destroying underwater ecosystems. He never understood his friend's peculiar way of regarding them, almost as if with an admiration of sorts.

"Alright boys, what we catchin' today?" A loud, booming voice sounded atop the boat.

Two other voices had joined in, southern and thick. "How bout a shark?"

"Shut up, Randall," laughed one of the men, "Let's catch some fish fore' the boss rings our neck."

A thunderous whirring came from a machine attached to the boat, yellow and rusted with a net attached to the bottom. It sunk beneath the inky waters, the boy following after with pure curiosity. He noticed a school of fish swimming closer, their delicious forms becoming entrapped within the roped net and struggling to swim out. Their meager bodies flattened against each other, fins frantically fluttering back and forth in a futile attempt at escape.

Did humans also eat fish? He wondered.

He hadn't gotten a look at what the men's physical appearances were. How big are they that they need so much fish?

He swam closer, using his taloned fingers to scratch at a piece of the net, allowing for one of the fish to plop out into his webbed hand. Easy hunt, he thought to himself, swallowing the fish whole before reaching in to grab another.

This time, however, the whirring sound seemed to grow louder and the net began oscillating at a rapid rate. Before he could push himself away from the machine the net clasped around his tail and arm, forcing him into place with the rest of the fish surrounding him. He struggled, contorting his body forward and backward venturing to free himself.

SMACK!

All his sensitive skin could feel was a cold, damp metal beneath his limbs, fish jumping to and fro around him as the light from the boat blurred his vision. The slits in his eyes became thinner, almost nonexistent, when one of the men flashed something strikingly bright into his face. Two of the three voices now had a face and body, each distinct and rather ugly. The larger, burley man had no hair atop his head yet his arms were covered, a complete contrast to the smoothness of a mermaid's upper body. The one flashing an instrument in his face was rather lanky and petite, a beard cleanly growing across his chin and ending just above his collarbones. He couldn't find the third one, he didn't know if he even wanted to.

The bulky man had thin lips curled into an odd smile, like two sea worms bent in an odd angle, a tooth sticking out the side of his lip curiously. "What the hell am I looking at?" His voice was painful up close, the boy's finned ears twitching as they continued speaking.

"Certainly not a shark," the other whispered, a shocked expression painting his unkept features.

"Say, you a fuckin' mermaid?" He asked. The man took a thin metal rod and poked his tail.

"Mermaids are females, boss."

"Merboy?" He corrected himself sarcastically.

The fish-boy didn't speak, tightlipped and glaring at the men hovering above him. Occasionally, a frantic fish would slap him on his face.

"Well fuck me I guess." He rolled his eyes. "What should we do with it?"

"I don't know, boss, maybe we-"

A voice from behind the boy cut the lanky man off, "We make some money off of him."

He jerked his head back, staring wide-eyed at the new voice that had appeared. A light flashed, the man carrying a square box with a whitened piece of glass just over his eye. The third man, round and clean, looked like an office worker dressed up as a fisherman. "What?"

"You ain't hear me the first time?" He walked up to the boy, hands pulling at his tail just to check for any hint of falsehood. He growled at him, exposing two rows of sharpened teeth, the canines especially long. "Woah!" He stumbled back before recomposing himself. "How much money you think people would pay to see a mermaid?"

"It's a boy."

"Same thing." He shrugged.

"Probably a lot," the bigger man muttered, pondering for a moment. "What you say bout' bringin' him with us?"

"Where we gonna put him?"

"I can free up space in one of the barrels back at the yard. Some water should keep it alive." The lanky man walked closer to the boy, bending forward with a confidence only an idiot could sport. "You got lungs, right kid?"

These are the things that can fly like birds? He bitterly laughed to himself, as if!

The fish-boy hoisted himself up, lunging at the man and just barely grazing his left shoulder. His tail caught on the net, forcing his body back into the metal floor brutally.

"Shit!" The man whimpered, clutching into his shoulder feverishly. "The kid's got a bite to him."

"Grab the extra netting from the back." Ordered the hairy man immediately, that odd smile of his disappearing into a frown.

The men began tying him up, repulsed expressions covering their faces as they got a closer look at the struggling being. He was snarling, animalistic eyes wanting nothing more than to kill them for touching him with their filthy human hands. These men are exactly as the stories portrayed them! Absolutely abhorrent and disgusting!

Unfortunately for him, these men were massive, towering at 6 feet.

Mermen on the other hand didn't reach full maturity until age 20 and the majority of their size would come from the length and girth of their tail, not their upper bodies. Though, he imagined he would look significantly better than these rotten humans once he did reach adulthood.

He glanced at the fish and then at the hairy man. He was the one that would put up the most fight, he figured. The lanky one was weak and rather easy to overpower and the round one was a coward. If he could get rid of the one threat he would be free to escape.

"Please don't hurt me," he blurted, skin paling further and his body forcing a shiver.

"The little shit speaks!" The lanky man laughed.

"Aye kid, we're not gonna hurt you, sailor's promise." His target stepped forward.

Just a little more, he thought.

"I'm sorry for scratching you," he looked up at the men, big doe eyes pricking with non existent tears.

His new bald headed prey walked forward again, kneeling down and holding out a fish. He wondered if he was overselling the helpless child trope a bit too much, recalling how orcas would do something similar in the wild.

Whatever the case was, the man was within reach. He extended his webbed fingers, slow and innocent-like, but instead of grabbing the puffed fish he imbedded his talons into the man's eyes, pulling him on top before quickly searching his pockets for anything that would free him.

The men behind were bellowing out curses and shouts, petrified of the scene in front of them. As he suspected, the larger man ran back to the edge of the vessel, whitened knuckles grasping onto the metal in a horrified state. His fingers prodded and poked until something sleek and flat made contact with his palm. He fumbled with the edges of a strangely ornate and intricate design, swirls of flowers and odd vinery leading to a sharpened edge.

Just in time too, considering his friend, though weak, had garnered the courage to defend his crew imperishably.

He pushed the man's body forward, tripping the other while he made his escape over the edge of the boat, both screaming incoherently about one scary thing or the other. The boy allowed his no longer confined body to sink to the bottom of the ocean. He could still view the top clearly and hear the men's belting, unlike the darkness and comforting silence the ocean usually offered him. Their voices began to wane, signaling their exit. He was exhausted, hurt, and dejected.

And this interaction only proved to him the cruelty that human beings harbored within themselves.

Since that day, humans never made an appearance on Silnich waters again. Perhaps he had instilled a fear into them, a sense of self preservation that he knew only a selfish human could harbor. The humans must have warned the others, fed them stories about the attack of a crazed sea monster, who was really just a scared boy.

He was 24 now, a grown merman protective of the colony he had single-handedly protected. The fish were his to eat, the sharks and dolphins were his to play with, and the sky was entirely his to look at.

Until it wasn’t.

“Slow down you crazy child..”

The melodic harmonies began playing a soft tune.

“Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while...”

It was a male singing, perhaps a siren? Though he had never met a male siren before.

“It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two...”

The closer he swam to the shore, the more he could pick up on other voices.

“When will you realize…”

And there they were, long limbs swaying cautiously against each other, dull teeth hidden behind soft smiles and innocent laughter. Their feet were hidden within the ocean despite the light splashing.

And there she was, (h/l) (h/c) hair bouncing idly and her fingers interlacing with another of her species. She was rather beautiful, he thought for only a moment.

“Vienna waits for you...”

More humans came running into the water, two males and a female. And the merman's hazy thoughts were replaced with something more sinister.

Intruders, he told himself, in my waters.

[randomfoggytiger]

Mitch Pileggi, Nic Lea, and Kim Manners Were Happy about Krycek's Death Scene

On a merry drive down Season 8 Interview Lane (boy, does that trip deserve a dedicated post all its own), I came across this:

According to director Kim Manners, the most difficult scene to shoot was in the elevator with Mitch Pileggi and Nicholas Lea. Conversely, Manners' favorite scene was the one in which Skinner kills Krycek. Manners himself proposed the uniqueness of the shot, which features a CGI bullet going straight through Krycek's head. Extra money was budgeted for Krycek's death.[6] Mitch Pileggi was very happy when he was told he would be killing Krycek; he explained, "when they came to me and told me that I was the one that was going to kill Krycek, I was elated. Not because I wanted Nick to go away or anything, it was just from a character stand-point; Skinner just wanted to kill Krycek so bad."[6] Manners later called it one of his "favorite scenes [he'd] ever directed" and one of the "best scenes [he's] seen in a long time on television."[3]

Reportedly, Lea had become tired of the role and was growing weary of the ambiguous nature of the character. When Lea learned that his character was to be killed off in "Existence", he reportedly welcomed the news. The night the episode aired, Lea wrote on his personal website: "I felt that [Krycek] wasn't getting a fair shake anyway. [...] I wanted more in-depth ideas about the character and it never came to pass. It kind of stopped being fun to play."[4]

-Existence, Wikipedia

[randomfoggytiger]

@bakedbakermom's tags made a whoooole lotta more sense:

she was so real for that

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 3: First Family Dinner

Sarah comes to visit and has questions for Joel. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut :D Yeah, they're horny, OK? Just expect a lot of smut in this fic. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.1k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel actually felt pretty damn smart when he got to his house. He stopped at the trash bin that sat outside the garage and dropped his now empty coffee cup into it, just in case Sarah asked why he’d gone to the place with the name stamped on the side of the cup. 

He didn’t have a good fucking reason to be at a coffee shop by your apartment besides being at your apartment. And he knew he wasn’t ready to tell his daughter about the fact that you two were… whatever the fuck you were. 

What were you doing with him? What did you want with him? Why was it so hard to know and why was he so fucking afraid to ask? 

Didn’t matter now. The morning Sarah showed up to surprise him with a visit was not the morning to be having this discussion. 

“Baby Girl?” Joel called as he closed the door behind him, dropping his keys on the table in his entry way. 

“Dad!” Sarah flew around the corner and launched herself at him, just like she’d done when she was a kid. He caught her, the air knocked out of him, laughing as he caught his breath. “I missed you, old man!” 

“Missed you too, Baby Girl,” he said, setting her down and stretching out his back. “But you’re gonna have to cut me a break, think my back is gettin’ too old to be catchin’ you like that.” 

“How am I supposed to properly shower you in affection if I can’t just throw my whole body at you?” She smirked. “But fine, I guess if it’s for the sake of your health…” 

He rolled his eyes and tugged her against his side, kissing her temple. 

“Just gotta have you move back closer to home,” he gave her a squeeze. “Wouldn’t need to tackle me if I just saw you more.” 

“Yeah, I’m working on that,” she smiled. “Trying to get promoted from junior copywriter to intermediate so I can come to the Austin office sooner rather than later…” 

“That’s amazing Baby Girl!” Joel gave her another squeeze before leading her to the living room and settling on the couch. “I’m sure you’re close, they know how good you are.”

“Speaking of my grand plan,” she said. “I see you’ve been hanging out with my work wife.” 

Joel coughed to try to hide his surprise. 

“What?” He asked after a moment. 

“Well I know you didn’t do the Seattle Zombie 5K last Halloween,” she nodded at his shirt. Joel felt his stomach drop. “But I know we did.” 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“Not doing a walk of shame are you?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. 

“You ever known me to be the walk of shame type?” He asked, scrambling for a reason that he’d have your shirt. “I just fixed her garbage disposal for her a few weeks ago, got soaked. She was nice enough to give me a clean shirt so I wasn’t drippin’ wet on the drive home. Didn’t realize it’d made it into my dresser is all. I’ll have to wash it again, give it back…” 

“But you are hanging out with her then?” She asked. “I mean, you said give it back like you were going to see her again so…”

“We went out once since I helped with the sink and shit,” he said, telling himself that it wasn’t a lie, not really. You’d only successfully made it out of the house together once. Sarah scrunched her nose. “What, Baby Girl?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I was just hoping you guys would be friends is all. You’re both kind of alone down here, you know? I worry. I don’t want you doing nothing but sitting in the house doing… whatever weird old man stuff you do.” 

“I don’t do weird old man stuff…” 

“And leave her alone too long and the next thing you know she’s on the dating apps and she ends up going out with some total idiots,” she said, ignoring Joel’s protest entirely. “Really, Dad, her taste in men is shit and I’m not here to keep her busy, I was kind of counting on you here.” 

Joel frowned. 

“Not on you to protect her,” he said. Though, from what little he knew, Sarah was right. Your taste in men was shit. “And I’m sure she’s got better things to do than hang out with someone who does ‘old man things…’” 

That was something that Joel had been thinking about a lot over the past two weeks. Yes, you seemed to be about as insatiable for him as he was for you and he didn’t have any damn clue as to why. But he could think of plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t be. How long was it going to be before you realized that he didn’t offer you much? He couldn’t take you to fancy restaurants every week or on nice trips. He wasn’t interested in another child and you were still young enough that you might want to be a mother. His body was often sore and worn after decades of damn near breaking himself to make a living. How much longer would you be wanting to pull him into restaurant bathrooms and make yourself come on his leg because you just couldn’t bear to wait anymore? How much longer could he text you to bitch about work while on a break at a job site and have you respond with a gif from Sharknado because you knew it would make him laugh? How much longer could he look at the selfies you sent him and think to himself “that’s my girl,” even though you weren’t even his girl now let alone in the future?

He was already in too deep with you, way too damn deep. Someone was going to have to pry you out of him, you’d already settled inside his skin and he liked it that way. Liked thinking of you first thing in the morning and just before he fell asleep, liked that you were the first thing on his mind when he got lunch at a food truck and he stumbled on something really good, liked that you showed up with his favorite beer and some obscure snack food when you came over to his place because you said you saw it and thought of him.

“Her taste in men isn’t dangerously bad,” Sarah waved him off. “Just… she tends to go for guys who definitely don’t deserve her, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “I know.” 

Fuck, did he know.

“Anyway,” she said with a dramatic eye roll that reminded him of when she was a teenager. He smiled a little. “I’m in town until Wednesday! I know you’ll have to work…” 

“I can take a few days off,” he said quickly. “Get Uncle Tommy to make sure shit doesn’t go sideways…” 

“Awesome!” She perked up at that. “Because I think there are at least two Curtis and Vipers I haven’t gotten around to seeing yet and I’m going to require a handcrafted Dad burger - preferably grilled - while I’m in town. My apartment doesn’t let me have a grill on my balcony, it’s so dumb.” 

“Probably a fire code thing, Baby Girl,” he smiled. “But I think we can swing some movies and a cookout while you’re here. Tommy’d love to see ya, Maria too.” 

“Can we start by jumping in the pool?” She asked. “Because I haven’t gotten to swim in months.” 

“Might be a bit cold…” 

“Please,” she scoffed. “This is mid-summer weather in Seattle, plenty warm enough for a swim.” 

Joel smiled. 

“Whatever you want, Baby Girl.” 

The water was definitely colder than Joel would normally jump into but, for Sarah, he’d do just about anything. 

He was still getting used to drinking with his daughter, the two of them floating around the water with beers most of the day. Joel got out for a bit to make sandwiches - he put potato chips on Sarah’s just like he had when she was a kid - and he just listened to what she’d been up to, hanging on her every word. 

Joel had always felt incredibly lucky to have Sarah as his daughter. There were the obvious reasons, of course. She was kind and thoughtful, she was smart as a whip and loved to do well in school to the point that he almost never had to tell her to do her homework, she actually liked spending time with him. But she never had a problem being open with him about damn near anything. 

It wasn’t always the most pleasant experience - hearing about boy problems when he couldn’t actually intervene was harder than Joel had expected it to be - but he was grateful for it. He never had to wonder what his daughter was up to, she just told him. 

Part of it, he was sure, was because he’d asked her to grow up too fast. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but it seemed to come with the territory of single parenthood. There was no one there to back him up when he had to work late, no one there to take over the child rearing when he was sick or just so exhausted from work that he slept through his damn alarm. Sarah fell into the role of second parent, sometimes raising herself as much as Joel had. 

He was just happy she didn’t resent him for it. She seemed to recognize how hard he’d tried to give her everything, do everything he possibly could to make her happy and give her a good life. Even if it hadn’t always worked, he’d always tried. The fact that she’d made it to college on scholarship, that she’d finished towards the top of her class, that she’d gotten a good paying job doing something she liked to do, the fact that she was happy and doing something with her mind instead of breaking her body down like Joel was every damn day of his life was the proudest he’d ever been of anything. 

Could he really risk his relationship with her for you? Yes, you made him happy. So fucking happy. You were the first thing in years that he felt like he really, truly wanted. And it had hit him hard, so fucking hard. It was like he’d saved up all his longing just for you, like it had been waiting for something powerful enough to show up and unleash it all and it had knocked him off his damn feet. 

But you were Sarah’s best friend. 

“So one thing that’s seriously lacking in the Pacific Northwest is good TexMex,” Sarah said, lounging on a pool float, her face tilted toward the sun, eyes closed. “Think we can go out for dinner tonight? I need enchiladas and tamales and I need them sooner rather than later.” 

“Only if you don’t get mad that I ask for the real spicy salsa,” Joel said. 

“How did I end up so cursed that my two favorite people love to melt their tongues off as a hobby?” Sarah sighed. “But fine, order the miserable stuff. I’ll just get the regular salsa like a normal person.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“The normal ship has sailed with you, Baby Girl. Me and Tommy around you so much? Never stood a chance.” 

Just an hour later, he and Sarah were headed into her favorite Austin restaurant. Joel added it to his mental list of places to take you. It was Sarah’s favorite for a reason, after all. 

“Table for two,” Joel held up two fingers to the hostess but Sarah cut him off. 

“It’s three, actually,” she smiled, not looking at him. 

“Three?” He frowned. She ignored him and just held up three fingers to the hostess. It took him until they were at the table to really put it together. “Sarah…” 

“I’m here to see you but I really want to see her, too,” she said as she slid into the booth. “And I do think you guys will really get along if you actually give it a shot. Please, Dad? Give her a chance?” 

A chance wasn’t the only thing he’d given you. 

“Baby Girl, I’m sure she’d rather do something besides…” 

“Besides what?” Your voice appeared over his shoulder, Joel turning toward the sound so fast it made his head spin. You smiled a little sheepishly. 

“Hi.” 

***

Well Joel clearly hadn’t been expecting you. 

That boded just so well. 

“Hey Bestie!” Sarah squealed and got out of the booth to throw her arms around your neck. You laughed and hugged her back. “Ugh, I miss you! The office sucks without you there. So does the rest of Seattle, honestly.” 

You laughed. 

“I miss you too,” you gave her a squeeze before the two of you separated. “I keep trying to convince the VP at this branch that I absolutely unequivocally need a junior copywriter on my team. He hasn’t bought it yet but I think if I just keep asking him I’ll wear him down and he’ll cave to my annoying tendencies and just give me whatever I want.”

“Oh so you’re playing hardball,” Sarah teased as she got back in the booth and you slid in beside her. 

“Clearly yes,” you nodded sagely. “I read ‘The Art of War’ and just bothering people until they give up is the best battle tactic in the world…” 

You turned to look at Joel who was watching you intently. 

You hadn’t expected Joel to show up tonight anymore than he’d expected you. Sarah was playing you both like a goddamn fiddle. You’d worn a strappy, silky slip dress with a denim jacket over it thinking you were going out with your best friend, not going to be stuck trying to keep from staring at your who-the-fuck-knows-what sitting across from you. 

Who also happened to be your best friend’s dad. 

You tried not to think about that part. 

“Figured I’d force you two to get to know each other better over margaritas,” Sarah said brightly. “I can’t let you both just sit and stare at a wall all by yourselves until I can move back to town…” 

“I don’t stare at walls!” You protested. Sarah ignored you. 

“So you can at least keep each other company,” she finished. 

“Good to see you again, Joel,” you said, trying as hard as you could to not picture him naked across the table. 

Which was really fucking hard. 

His dark button down was rolled up to his elbows and fit his damn broad shoulders so perfectly all you could think about was the way he looked as he fucked into you, the way his muscles rippled through his chest and you had to fight to not bite down on them. His hair was tamed without being sculpted or overly styled and you wanted to run your fingers through it and sink your grip into his scalp as he ate you. 

“You too,” he said. 

You’d never had this visceral of a reaction to a man you’d fucked before, never, not even when you were a stupid teenager. Of course, you’d never tried to hide your relationship before, either. 

But you had the feeling that wouldn’t matter with Joel. You’d feel this intensity toward him whether Sarah was beside you or not, whether you could be open about your affection for him or not. 

And now you were going to have to sit across from him when he looked that damn good all through dinner. 

The second the server came to the table you ordered a margarita. You had a feeling you were going to need the tequila. 

It took conscious effort to pay attention to what Sarah was saying as she tried to bring up things she thought you and Joel had in common. Almost like she was trying to launch an ad campaign for each of you. 

It felt like forever but you were sure you’d only been seated a few minutes when you gave up on not touching Joel. You carefully slid your foot out of your pump and started sliding it up his inner leg, starting near his ankle. Joel jumped a little in his chair at the contact, his eyes darting to you. You just raised your eyebrows at him as you took a drink from your margarita and slid your foot up his leg to his knee. He shifted in his seat, his eyes steadily on Sarah but you could tell he had to focus on her now, actively work to give her attention. You smirked a bit at that. 

You kept the pattern up as the three of you waited for your food, Joel’s eyes always going a little wide when your toes made it to his inner thigh. 

“Ugh, I’m starving,” Sarah groaned as a tray of sizzling fajitas passed your table. “Here, scootch out, I’m going to the bathroom. That’ll make the food come.” 

“It always does,” you agreed, quickly shoving your foot back into your shoe and getting out of the booth. 

You both watched as Sarah made her way across the restaurant, turning to Joel the second you knew she was out of earshot. 

“Did you say anything?” You were whispering anyway. 

“No,” he replied. “We hadn’t talked about it, didn’t seem like the time… Did you say somethin’?” 

“Not a word,” you said. 

“I really need you to cool it over there, Beautiful,” Joel said. Any other time, you’d think he was teasing you but his eyes looked open and earnest now. “We can’t just go into a bathroom right now and it’s already a fucking miracle I haven’t tried to rip that goddamn dress off you, Jesus Christ, you can’t just show up places lookin’ that damn good…” “You’re one to talk!” You replied, incredulous, as you looked down at his exposed, tan, muscled forearms and back up at his face. “Fucking hell, Joel!” 

He smirked a little. 

“That’s all it takes with you, huh?” He teased, leaning across the table toward you. “Just a little bit of skin and you’re outta control?”

“Oh fuck off,” you rolled your eyes but grinned a little all the same. “I know you know what the rolled up sleeves thing does to women.” 

“I promise I do not,” he said, watching over your shoulder now. “But you’ll have to enlighten me later…” 

Sarah came back to the table and her face fell. 

“Shit, that usually works,” she sighed. “Alright, scoot in, we can just trade spots.” 

You obeyed and slid over, purposely leaning over the table as you did, giving Joel full view of your bra below your dress as you did. He was all but glaring at you as you sat back in the booth. 

Consciously, you knew you shouldn’t be pushing him like this. For starters, this was not how you wanted Sarah to find out. Assuming she was ever going to find out. 

But you shouldn’t be trying to frustrate Joel. Not like this, not so early on in your… whatever the fuck this was. 

You had a tendency to do this, to bend things until they broke the second something was looking like it could get serious, the second that it looked like it’d be worth the time and the effort. You were starting to think it was something your subconscious did on purpose. If you sabotaged the relationship early, there wasn’t the same kind of risk. Push the guy too far and he’d break things off with you and you could return to the relative emotional safety of dating apps and bars. Only ever go out with someone for a few weeks and it wouldn’t hurt that bad if they left. 

And they would leave. They always left. You might be worth the time for a bit but you weren’t worth the trouble for anything real, that much had been made clear to you in the years you’d spent dating around. It had gotten you hurt when you were young and stupid, back when you were Sarah’s age. Now, you fucking knew better. 

You knew better than to get anywhere close to what you were starting to feel with Joel. 

And here you were, doing it anyway, with your best friend’s dad. 

So of course your first reaction was to push him. Push, push, push. It’s what you did. 

You stirred your melting margarita. 

You’d never been more relieved to have food brought to your table. 

“Thanks so much for coming out tonight!” Sarah hugged you goodbye in the parking lot, the awkward, hesitant conversation at the table through dinner still tense over you. 

“It was so great to see you!” You hugged her back and kissed her cheek. “Seriously, I’m wearing the bosses down, start packing now because I miss you too much.” 

She laughed. 

“I’ll be on the first plane out once I get a job offer,” she said. “Either way, I’ll be back for the holidays, we have to hang out then. Just us girls at least once, promise.” 

You smiled a little, hoping Sarah would still want to talk to you at the holidays. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

Joel gave you a tight smile and a nod. 

“Talk to you soon?” He said, his voice too open and honest to fit the shared awkwardness of your position feet apart in the parking lot. 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Text me?” 

“Sure,” he smiled back. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the second you were in the door, only pausing to take your shoes off as you made your way to the kitchen. You settled in on the couch without bothering to change, carrying the bottle of wine with you, and you put on some shitty Netflix reality show you could zone out and barely pay attention to. 

You were four episodes deep when your phone lit up. 

“Fuck that was hard,” Joel texted. 

You smiled a little. 

“Was that hard or were you hard?” You texted back. 

“Both,” he replied almost immediately. Your smile grew and you downed the last of the wine. 

You hadn’t had enough to drink to be drunk but you’d had enough that it made you feel… bold. Like you wanted to try something new. 

You took off your jacket and slid the straps of your dress down so your cleavage was spilling over the top of it, your breasts barely contained by it. You took a selfie, a needy look on your face, and sent him the picture. 

“Need help with that?” You asked. 

“Jesus Christ,” he texted back almost immediately. “Good thing Sarah just went to call some boy she started seeing back in Washington, can’t just send a guy shit like that and expect him to sit still.” 

You bit your lip for a second, getting an idea. You headed for your room and shimmied out of the dress before you put on the sexiest bra you owned and switched to the matching panties. You posed in the full length mirror in the corner of your room, one leg out, a hand on your hip. 

“What about shit like this?” You asked as you sent the picture along. 

“Really fucking mean for you to send that when you know I can’t come take it off you,” he texted back. 

You flopped down on your stomach on your bed, reminded of how you felt texting guys when you were younger and you had to make sure you didn’t go over your texting limit for the month. 

“You can always fight back you know,” you said. “I can’t come rip your clothes off either.” 

“You trying to get me to sext with you?” He asked. 

“Maybe.” 

It took a few minutes before he sent you a picture. He was in his room, stripped down to his boxer briefs. He fisted his cock through the fabric of them, the veins on his hand prominent. 

“Something like this?” He asked. 

You groaned, your hand sliding to your clit before you even thought about it. You rolled onto your back and took a picture of your hand slipping into your panties before sending it on. 

“Just like that,” you replied. 

“Fuck.” 

The one word was all he sent for a minute before he followed it up with a picture of his cock in his hand. You moaned at the sight of him, a pearl of pre-come leaking from his swollen head. You wanted to swallow it up, lick up and down his thick shaft, take all of him in your mouth until you were choking on him and he spilled down your throat. 

“Tried to make this last but you’re too fucking much for me,” he texted. “Couldn’t wait.” 

You took off your bra and tossed it to the floor before taking a handful of your breast in your hand, holding the phone high over your head, high enough that it could capture your needy expression and the way you were touching yourself. 

“Neither could I.” 

Usually, when you fucked yourself, you used toys. You had a few that you’d become partial to over the years of cycling through men and relationships, the fake dicks in your life lasting a whole hell of a lot longer than the real ones. 

Tonight, you didn’t need one. Didn’t think you could pull yourself away from touching your own body long enough to pull one out, not with Joel’s face and body and cock on the brain. You slid your hand down your chest, your stomach, back to your pussy. You rubbed your clit in little circles with your index finger as you stretched your middle finger down, down, down toward your dripping hole. 

When his next message came through, you dropped your phone in your rush to open it and you scrambled to pick it up with one hand, your other one too occupied to want to do anything else. 

This time, it was a video. His large hand was working his thick length, his cock still looking big even in his grasp that dwarfed your own. He worked his cock slowly, his thumb sweeping over the head and collecting the pre-come before he slid it firmly down with quiet moan. 

“Fuck, I need you,” his voice was soft, a whisper. “Need to feel that perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You were about to rewatch the video, your mouth watering, when he texted again. 

“Can I call you?” 

You didn’t respond. Instead, you just called him, putting the phone to speaker and setting it on your chest between your breasts. 

He answered on the first ring. 

“Hey beautiful,” he said, voice low and dark and needy. “Fuck, I gotta be quiet…” 

“I know,” you said, whispering back even though you didn’t have a reason to. “Don’t care, as long as I can hear you.” 

“Tell me what you’re doin’ to yourself,” he was almost panting. “What you’re thinkin’ about…” 

“I’m rubbing my clit,” you moaned. “Got one finger inside of myself, thinking about you eating me out last night…” 

“Fuck you tasted so good,” his voice became a little more strained. “Wanna taste you right now.” 

You moaned and fucked yourself a little harder, a little faster, your eyes closed in pleasure. 

“Add another finger,” he said. “Want you to work up to this cock, want you thinking about me deep in you when you come.” 

“Fuck Joel,” you were panting now, too, as you added another finger. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking now,” he whispered. 

“You pushing into me,” you groaned it. “Opening me up for you…” 

“Fuck, Beautiful, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 

You heard the pace of his hand increase on the other end of the phone and you worked your pussy a little harder and faster, too, whimpering as you did. 

“Can you fit a third finger?” He panted. 

“Yes,” you managed, getting desperate, your body starting to feel tight, all the heat of you drawing deep into yourself. 

“Add it,” he groaned. “Fuck yourself deep, hard. Fuck yourself like I fucked you last night, how I’d fuck you right now if I were there.” 

You obeyed, thrusting your fingers in as deep as you could reach, whimpering at the stretch that you knew had nothing on his thick cock. 

“You were so fucking deep,” your legs were restless, the tightness extending so far down that you knew your orgasm was going to make your whole body quake. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn big, Joel…” 

“And you take me so fucking well,” he panted. “Take me like you were made to take this cock, fuck!” 

“I was made to take you,” you whimpered, desperate and aching. “Made to make you come, need you to fucking come, please Joel, please come for me…” 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!” It was a choking, strangled whisper and you heard him muffle his moaning in a pillow, the sound of his pleasure sending you over the edge. 

It was the hardest you’d ever come from your own hand, harder than you’d ever come with a vibrator, almost as hard as you came with Joel deep inside you the night before. Your body throbbed with it, so much that it felt like your fingers might break as they stuffed your overwrought pussy full. You all but sobbed as you kept working your clit, even as it was too much, fucking yourself through your own orgasm the way you knew Joel would if he were buried inside you instead of in his own fist. Once it was over, you slowly, gently, pulled your hand away from your dripping slit. 

“Fucking hell, Beautiful,” he said after a minute, still trying to catch his breath. You smiled and laughed a little. “Christ, I hope Sarah didn’t hear that.” 

“You stayed a lot quieter than me,” you were whispering again. It was fun to whisper into the phone with him, like you were going behind your parents’ backs with it. 

“Still,” he said before he sighed. “I gotta go clean up, you made me make a hell of a mess.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you smirked a little, looking at the slick gathered on your fingers. 

“Can I text you tomorrow while you’re at work?” He asked quietly. “Something tells me I’m gonna miss you like crazy.” 

“Course,” you smiled, settling down into your mattress. “Text me whenever you want, I always want to hear from you.” 

Maybe it was the post-orgasm haze but you didn’t care that it sounded desperate. 

“Good,” he said. “Because hearin’ from you always makes my damn day.” 

You smiled at that. 

“Miss you, Beautiful.” 

You smiled bigger. 

“Miss you, too.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Awww doubt is creeping in and they're still fucking each other's brains out from afar.

We love to see it!

Thank you so much for following along with this story! These two are so fun to write and I hope you're enjoying their journey. Love you all!

[anonymouspuzzler]

To the trio, how do you like to spend your days off??

some variation on this happens, like, three times a week Minimum when they're not on or preparing for a heist.

[Full transcript / image IDs under cut!]

A black-and-white, digital ink comic featuring Puzz's OCs, Buck, Minnie and Davey. Buck is a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested build, balding hairstyle with a tuft of hair on top, large nose, heavy brow, and large shaggy mustache; he is wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cuffed, dark pants, and heeled boots. Minnie is a 13-year-old white girl with a stocky build, freckles, buck teeth, and hair with short bangs and large braided pigtails; she is wearing a t-shirt with a label tag on the bottom hem, a pleated skirt, shin-length socks and mary jane type shoes. Davye is a middle-aged black man with a lanky build, amputated right arm, large ears, large eyes with long eyelashes, diagonal scar across his face, large eyebrows, and lnong curly hair; he is wearing a baggy tank top and sports shorts. Each individual image is one panel of the comic.

Image/panel 1 shows shows Buck walking to the left, pushing a sponge-type mop with both hands and looking up towards the viewer with a casual expression. He is saying, "I mostly try and catch up on chores."

Image/panel 2 shows Buck having stopped in front of a messy kitchen counter, with an open bag of bread and two jars on it. One jar is tipped on its side and the other is open with a knife sticking out of it. Minnie casually walks off to the right, bringing a sandwich up to her mouth with both hands and ignoring Buck. He is looking after her with an irritated look, cartoon steam clouds coming off of him, one hand clenched into a fist at his side and the other still holding the mop. He says, tersely, "...which would be easier if some people would clean up".

Image/panel 3 shows Minnie continuing to walk off to the right, taking a bite out of the sandwich and looking in the general direction of the viewer with a casual, aloof expression. She says, "I do online classes sometimes when we're not doing heists, but I guess that's not a "day off". Other than that I mostly watch TV or play video games."

Image/panel 4 shows Minnie, back to the viewer, having arrived at the sofa. Davey is sitting in a slouched position on the sofa, one leg dangling off the edge, elbow propped up on the sofa and head leaning heavily into his hand. He is visibly asleep, drooling and snoring. A TV remote is balanced on top of his knee. Minnie glowers at him and says, "...or I would if some people weren't hogging the TV."

Image/panel 5 shows Minnie, glaring, climbing up onto the sofa, holding her sandwich in one hand and shoving Davey's shoulder with the other. Davey visibly startles awake, shouting, "I'M UP. Totally awake."

Image/panel 6 shows Minnie settling down on the sofa next to Davey, taking another bite out of her sandwich and saying, "Uh huh. So what are you watching while you're 'totally awake'?" Davey, leaning back and stretching out his arm, tongue sticking out, responds, "Mmph. Catchin' up on telenovelas." Minnie replies, "Mhm. So what's happening?" Davey responds, "Affairs, mostly."

Image/panel 7 shows another angle of the room, to Davey's left, as Buck leans in past the doorway and says, with an incredulous expression, "Don't tell me it's Julien again?" Davey, leaning forward and shouting with a similarly incredulous, outraged look, replies, "Yes!! With his own wife's new assistant this time!!! Can you believe it?!" Minnie leans forward to stare at Davey with one eyebrow raised.

Image/panel 8 flips the angle to over Buck's shoulder, showing Minnie and Davey looking at him from the sofa. Minnie, grinning smugly, says, "I thought you were all about cleaning today?" Buck glares back, looking slightly embarrassed, and replies, "I am cleaning." Davey leans slightly forward, propping his arm up on his knee, and says with a disarming grin, "Buck, you can come take a break." Buck replies, "No, no. I still got the dishes to deal with."

Image/panel 9 shows Buck standing beside the couch with his arms folded, clearly watching TV, with an arrow pointing to him reading, "Proceeded to stand there for 43 consecutive minutes." Minnie and Davey continue to sit on the couch, Minnie taking another bite of her sandwich, Davey leaning against the arm of the sofa and gasping at something on TV.