#lullaby of the leaves

[acidrefluxblog]

OMG ITS THE LULLABY OF THE LEAVES IMAGE

1925 A George Barbier illustration of a Worth evening dress from "Gazette du Bon Ton" magazine. From Awesome Attic, FB.

[kheprriverse]

OOT Zelda! This took like... 3 days LOL

I'm still a bit iffy on the colors used for her, so this may change in the future until I figure out a good palette.

[nikov]

I REMEMBER EVERYTHING.

everything everywhere all at once (2022) / amigo warfare, eric gamalinda / someone great (2019) / about you, the 1975 / lullabies, lang leav / la la land (2016) /  the museum of heartbreak, meg leder / always remember us this way, lady gaga

[sec-heriablangel]

They really loved their typhlosions

And F**K THESE LEAKS!

[ochrearia]

Have... No One?

I felt bad for doing that to YS last drabble and I actually can't read it without making my own heart hurt so I. Yeagh. Ofc it's Biff and YS mainly why is anyone surprised those are my boys. Boyf and Peacock come in at the end because I started feeling guilty over Biff favoritism

BFs in this one-shot: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), fc!BF (Boyf, Keyy's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), Yourself (YS)

YS hadn’t slept. The sun had come out now, filtering through the window shade. He hadn’t slept. Just cried to himself like a pathetic little thing, until all his tears were gone and nothing but emptiness was left. His eyes were blank, staring at the wall. Sleep wasn’t possible for such a hollow husk. At least he was used to the pain in his chest now. The cold, though, not so much. If he wasn’t careful he might actually do some damage to his body leaving it under the vent with the cold air on. But he wasn’t trying to be careful.

Need someone, have no one. Need someone, have… Biff?

When had he gotten here?

“Oh you poor thing, you’re freezing.” Biff dismayed, taking in the state of him. “You’re small, and cold, your hoodie is halfway across the room on the floor and you love that thing, what happened?”

YS could really only just look at him blankly. At some point last night he’d literally had a thought that he couldn’t isolate anymore like he used to, and somehow he’d still forgotten they could come through his mirror whenever they wanted. He could still just… vacate his apartment entirely but fate would have it that he’d never have the energy to when things got so bad.

“What happened?” Biff asked again, making his voice as gentle as he possibly could. “You look so empty, it scares me… Please, what’s wrong?”

I almost did something bad last night. YS’s inner voice worked, but that didn’t translate to actually speaking. Needed someone. Had no one. Still have no one…

He failed to notice that his microphone was blazing a gentle red again- she was awake and active, though what she was doing wasn’t immediately obvious.

“That’s not true.” Biff’s voice wavered, answering what should have been a voice locked to YS’s mind only. “God, that’s not true, you have someone, you have so many someones, I’m right here in front of you. Can’t you see me? I’m so sorry, I should’ve been here.”

Sleeping. YS countered. All of you, asleep and happy because nothing was obviously wrong. Not interrupting that.

“You’re freezing…” Biff brought up again, walking away slightly only to pick up the discarded hoodie from its place on the floor. “You love this hoodie to bits, why’d you take it off?”

Don’t deserve it. Made it out to be something that meant so much more than it ever did. Just a thank you gift. Nothing actually meaningful. No point in lying to myself.

“Nothing actually meaningful? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Biff seemed almost offended.

Gift from my… “brothers”. Convinced myself that it could mean I was loved. People don’t love me. I lost the only person who did and it was my fault. I’m far past the point of being loveable. I am made to care. I am not made to be cared for.

“You’re… you’re talking so much bullshit.” The smaller insisted, shaking his head. “Don’t say brothers like that, like it’s not real. You are my big brother. You’re a big brother to all of us and I could call every single one of us in the group chat right now and they’d confirm it. What awful bastard of a voice is in that head telling you you’re not cared for?”

Can’t be like this. YS thought pitifully, shivering and curling up tighter on himself. So damn small. Hated being small. Everyone relies on me. I have to make everything better. I can’t ever be anything less than at my best. I’ve never been at my best…

Biff stared at him. Oh, he’d had enough. Enough of his brother talking like his life was going to be over soon, enough of the toxic thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone, enough. YS was sitting in front of him suffering from cold he’d seemingly let himself fall to. Talking about how he’d falsely convinced himself he was loved because he didn’t believe anyone actually did. This was enough. He couldn’t take it away in any real capacity but he would sooner die himself than do nothing.

“I’m picking you up.” Biff warned, before doing it anyways.

The smaller YS ended up being, the more he was in clear turmoil. The fact that the normally freakishly tall one was now only half of Biff’s size was very concerning. There were only two reasons he lost control of his shapeshifting like this, and it certainly wasn’t because he was flustered and embarrassed. When things made him feel small mentally, his power activated on its own off of that. There was no embarrassment here. Just empty eyes and freezing limbs.

For a moment YS wondered where Biff thought he was taking him. Turns out, he wasn’t taking him anywhere. Since he’d shrunk without the hoodie on, it hadn’t shrunk with him. Now the piece of clothing was so big on him he could drown in it. Biff draped it over him instead, like a superhero cape. He then maneuvered his way to where YS had been laying seconds before, back leaned against the pillow. The angel was left to lie across Biff’s chest and lap while he pulled the discarded weighted blanket over the both of them.

“I don’t give a single shit what your depression is telling you to think. It’s not true and I’m sorry that no one was here to tell you that when you really needed it.” Biff sighed, a hand coming up to pet through YS’s hair.

Tired. Tired of all of this. Just want her back. Why can’t I just be okay?

“We’re all just one call away. You needed someone and we would’ve picked up the phone regardless what time it was. Sleep is hardly important to me if someone I care about- no, fuck this, I’m not dancing around the word anymore. I don’t care about sleep when someone I love is crumbling alone.”

Love.

It’s not nice to lie about something like that. YS immediately thought in response. Who said he was lying? Another thought answered right after. Confusing. What the hell was he saying?

“Not lying.” Biff affirmed. Whether his words would be believed or not was the real question. “You’re my big brother, and I love you, okay? You’re freezing cold and I’m not letting you anywhere out of my arms until you warm up. Can’t let you get sick by being careless.”

Warm. He’s almost burning hot, how cold did I let myself get? A moment of clarity, what the fuck was he doing? Good warmth. Loving warmth. Want this… Need this.

“It’s okay to need someone.” Biff continued to comb his fingers through YS’s hair, taking relief in how he moved to push into his hand. “It’s good to be strong within yourself, but that shouldn't be all you are. People are made to be social, to be around other people, to love them. Love them in whatever way they want. You didn’t lose the “only” person who loved you. Fuck, she’s still technically here. But she’s not the only one, far from it. Don’t you remember how she brought us here the last time?”

The last time. When he’d almost done the bad thing again, before any of them knew they could mirror-walk. A week alone, worrying them sick. Guilt? No, he was still too empty. Still shivering, but less, because Biff was warm and he was surrounded. The hoodie, the blanket, him. Things he loved. Things that made him feel loved.

“You’re exhausted.” Biff said plainly, catching sight of the way YS’s eyes struggled to stay open properly. “You’re safe, you know. I’ve got you. How many times have you led us to fall asleep on you because you made us feel safe? It’s your turn now.”

Needed someone. Have… little brother. Have Biff. Have the rest. Warm… love is warm.

Biff offered a soft smile at the other, pleased when he felt YS’s arms move from tucked against his own chest to wrapped around his middle. Later when things were better, he expected the other to complain about how he was ‘abusing the ways to placate him’ but it wasn’t abuse. No, this was being used exactly how it needed to be.

Biff sent a quick text to the group chat. Communication was important and he wasn’t going to gatekeep information like this. He told them YS had a bad night, and if they had time, to come over when they could. But in the interest of keeping the resident cuddler from getting overwhelmed…

Humming… lullaby, for me? Even YS’s thoughts were getting slower and more tired. Haven't heard this one… Personalized? My little game turned against me?

Biff wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about. But he’d remembered all the times the other would hum to him to give him comfort, why not give that back? It wasn’t the same song YS used for him. Something had compelled him to pick something different, something he felt was fitting. His little game? Did YS have specific songs for each of them?

“Get some rest now.” Biff whispered between hums. Good old, reliable song. YS seemed to like it.

The rest of YS’s thoughts trailed off into nothing as his eyes slipped closed. Biff listened to his breaths, going from quick and shaky to deep and slow. His shapeshifting activated again, allowing for some height back, but not all of it. Funny, now they were actually the same size. Biff-sized YS.

Had he been thinking about the other in place of feeling small?

Biff kept humming, eyes flicking to the mirror when he saw Peacock step through, followed shortly by Boyf. He hadn’t actually expected anyone to show up this fast, props to them. Man, he’d coaxed YS to sleep too fast, now he didn’t get to see how loved he was that some of the others were probably dropping everything to be here.

Oh well. He’d fallen asleep being loved, and he’d wake up later to see how much love was waiting for him.

Biff beckoned the two over with a head tilt, unwilling to give up on his humming. Both of them looked just about ready to latch onto YS and never let him go, which, honestly, considering the state Biff had found him in, he was already doing himself. With the extra body heat from them he’d end up boiling alive on his own, but YS deserved it and he wasn’t about to move.

“What happened?” Boyf thought, unsure if they’d even be able to hear him.

“His microphone…” Peacock pointed out, subject still glowing red on the table.

I don’t want to give up humming. Hoping that she’s letting you guys hear my thoughts right now, that’s one of the spells she’s able to do. Biff thought back. Oh, that’s weird. How come it feels different to when you do it, Boyf?

Peacock and Boyf blinked, but reacted enough to show that his hope was right.

“I uh. Don’t really know.” Boyf shrugged. “Avoiding the question. What happened?”

I’m not fully sure. Found him purposefully under the air conditioner vent without his hoodie or the blanket. I think he was… trying to make himself suffer. He doesn’t think very good of himself. Convinced that he’s not loveable and that the hoodie is just a thank you gift. I hate this. Right when I think he’s getting better it all gets exponentially worse.

“Wish we could’ve been here for him sooner.” Peacock admitted quietly. “It’s like, impossible to tell what’s going on with him because he refuses to talk about any of it. There’s only so much we can do.”

“Then we do what we can until we can do more.” Boyf replied firmly.

“Hah, yeah…” Peacock agreed. “Haven’t seen him small before. You guys kept saying he could get small and I never got to see it before now. Sucks that it’s such a circumstance.”

“He can be even smaller than that.” Boyf chuckled. “Becomes almost like a chibi character. Tiny ass idiot that we can pick up.”

“Holy shit, I wanna do that.”

Pff, I’m sure you’ll get your turn Peacock. There’s some very easy ways to get him embarrassed enough to shrink. Biff thought evilly. Not now though. Let him sleep, and I got here first so I have dibs. This is my big brother teddy bear.

“Whatever happened to sharing is caring? Bro doesn’t even believe in childhood concepts.”

Fuck off. You two should move faster though, might want to pile on before anyone else gets here and takes the chance. Biff snarked, bringing his free arm to wrap snugly around the sleeping angel.

“I want to point out that I was still the first one to get here after your message and that should count for something.” Peacock sniffed. “That being a chance to hug the big guy.”

“Lmao, ‘big guy’ when he’s the small one right now.”

No way in hell you’re making fun of my height and unironically using ‘lmao’ to do it in the same sentence. This moron was going to make him lose his place in his humming. Stupid idiot brother. Just get over here already. I can’t keep humming this forever and I want this idiot to get a substantial amount of sleep for once.

“Don’t have to tell us twice.”

[elline]

little hypno and mx doodads. get em while theyre hot

[carefulfears]

top 5 (or 10 if you have em) scully taking care of mulder moments <3

she said IF i have 10 😭😭😭

1/ sein und zeit

i fear i have talked about this television scene more times than anyone has ever talked about a television scene....like. one, two, three, four, i was even foolishly invited onto a podcast to talk about it more...

my tags here:

she gets down on the Ground. there's something so primal about it. there's such a lack of pretense and sense of desperation about it. the way he hits the table. we so Rarely see him lash out like that. but it's just too much to Bear. like everything in him is just Breaking the only thing that he's even remotely been able to hold onto amidst all of the unbearable loss and trauma in his life has failed. he's fumbling around for anything that might make it better. that audries fic describing him in this moment as an 'addict out of a fix' with 'newborn anger.' “this is the world? this is it?” it's the way that he spends this whole ep cooking up some elaborate mythology about missing children and how they can be found and then the last shot of the episode is that wide shot of all of the children's graves. sometimes he's just wrong. the world is so much fucking darker and uglier sometimes than the way he sees it. and that's what is crashing down around him in this moment. and she's sitting in the wreckage holding him tight.

this is such brave, brave love. i keep thinking about CSM in the following episode, standing in scully's apartment, warning her. "allow him his ignorance, it's what gives him hope."

she doesn't know what will happen to him, to her, to them, when she breaks down the only method of coping that he has. his mother lost her bedrock too, and she didn't survive. from the moment scully enters, you can watch it break her. she does it anyway. she gets down on the ground, and she cries, and she holds him. god, it all just would've been so different, if there'd been just 1 person, 27 years ago.

(thinking about mulder reaching up to hold scully when missy died, and these tags asking: did anyone hold him, when it was his sister?)

i love the show's message on grief (and trauma), in that this is all that is necessary for "closure." there is no "Truth," (and there really isn't any closure, there's no "beyond" the sea). but it matters that someone knows. it matters that someone bears witness. it matters that someone tells you the truth, even when it fucking breaks their heart. sits in the destruction with you.

the exhaustion in her voice the next morning, when she tells skinner, "it's been a hard night for him." she's still wearing her work clothes from the day before. she was up all night. she's tired, and she's scared, and she's sad. it's been a hard 7 years. it's been a hard 27 years.

it makes me tear up every time i see it, the way she blocks him in the doorway. she's not moving. this is just so scully. it's not even starbuck, it's just so scully. she would keep him in that apartment where she could cover him and control what touches him forever, if she could. (she can't, so you're not taking him anywhere without her. the way she looks her boss in the eye and tells him he better book her a flight too. brave love.)

2/ demons

god, this one just makes me sad. this might be the one that makes me saddest. she's dying. she doesn't have it in her, anymore. i talked about this in my newsletter (and i wrote a fic about it once) but this is like...the only time where she never calls him out on what he's doing. she never yells. she never rolls her eyes. she never gets frustrated with him. she doesn't have it in her. she's dying. he will be alone. she won't be here the next time. what can she even do about it?

i always think about this post:

and you know she is thinking about how if she hadn’t been there he would’ve died. and how the next time he does something like this, she won’t have enough life left in her to keep them both alive. she might not even have enough left for herself. and she’ll give whatever she does have left to him, but it won’t be enough to save either of them. she’ll die cold and pale and he’ll burn himself out. and what can she do but hold him? who will he have when she’s gone? what will he do to himself? who will he call?

and these tags:

this is so cautious and tender and apologetic. sorry for all the pain he feels constantly. and sorry that nothing can ease it. and sorry that she is dying and leaving him like this.

she started writing to him as soon as she was diagnosed, begging. begging forgiveness, begging courage, begging grace. begging for him to not feel there was anything more he could've done, to not become the next cause he is lost in. for him to keep going, as she needs to know he's "out there."

but she's seen him hold a gun to himself too many times, and she knows he's coming down with her. and it's such a loss? this is a person she gave up everything, including her life, to follow, because she believed in him and what he wanted to do in the world that much. but things are different now. he won't survive this. he won't be "out there" saving the world.

what can she do? go to rhode island at 5am, wrap him up. stay quiet, stay still, but scream and thrash at anyone who's careless with him. sink down next to him, cover him, hold him. "maybe we need every answer in the world to survive a single question: how long do we have each other?" (x)

(also, her memento mori journal, in general. she sat in that hospital alone, for days, knowing she was going to die. and she wrote letter, after letter, after letter, to him. so that he would have something. so that he wouldn’t be left alone with nothing, again.)

3/ the end

"as mulder appears. the look on his face is of a man who's seeing, smelling, and tasting the loss of everything he has worked for. it's the look of utter defeat. angle on scully at the door. she sees only mulder right now...she moves to him now. putting her arms around him, holding on to keep him from breaking. off this, we fade out. the end." (script)

i think so often about the script notes of this scene. the description of mulder, as absorbed in destruction. everything that he's worked for, literally reduced to (cigarette) ash. scully only focused on him.

in the final angle of the season, you can really see how she's standing in front of him. her fingers clutching him. but when she first grabs him, it's so tentative. it almost feels like she's trying to see if he's still there, if he exists, if his work doesn't.

this is...the whole thing! there's a reason why this was "the end." the final image of this iteration of the series, before everything changes. this is what it is all about. it's mulder walking headfirst into the devastation of the world. drenched in loss. seeing it. smelling it. tasting it. surrounded by it. and it's scully knowing what he'll find even as he's still moving (this script note, from the hallway: "reverse on scully. returning the look. knowing what mulder is going to find. and what it will mean.")

following behind. eyes on him, while he takes in the ash. just holding on for dear life; trying to keep him close, whole.

(also, i love the moment before the fire, at his apartment, after diana was shot. the way scully tells skinner that he can reach her at mulder's if he needs her, because that's where she'll be. he doesn't even have a bed, or anywhere for her to stay!! she's not leaving him.)

4/ paper hearts

oh, starbuck. we are really in it now.

paper hearts is an ahab and starbuck episode, yes. but mostly it's about grief. mostly it's about harsh awakenings. mostly it's about confrontation with fear, scully's included.

one of the most haunting moments of the series, to me, is when they speak to the father of the 14th victim, twenty-one years after his daughter went missing. and through tears, the father says, "i used to think...that missing was worse than dead, because...you never knew what happened. now that i know, i'm glad my wife's not here. she got luckier."

in that moment, as mulder looks over at the photos on the mantle, missing is not worse than dead. it is not worse than knowing. and later that day, in his first scene, roche calls it exactly as it is: "i understand you take this very personally, mulder."

i've written about this scene in the hallway so many times, because it's truly the crux of this episode (my favorite episode).

from my newsletter:

There’s something so viscerally deep about this episode that’s hard to put into words, but to me, it is most palpable in the moment in the hallway when Mulder asks Scully if she believes that his sister was abducted by aliens. And you can see in his face that he knows the answer, and he’s challenging her to come out and say it. You can see in Scully’s that she would rather admit to anything else.

he's challenging her. he's taking their entire dynamic, and throwing it in her face. not to be cruel. not to disrupt. but just to say...so what now? isn't this what you believe?

i don't think that they've ever been so fragile, as in this hallway, honestly. they rarely threaten to break it all down. their entire lives are built on him walking up to tragedy and saying: it was aliens. it was XYZ. and her following behind saying: no. it was a killer, it was a man.

what does that mean? what is she really saying?

this episode is hard on scully. mulder has never been more haunted. there has never been a bigger reminder of what they are actually doing. they are not just chasing little green men, having adventures, studying sewer worms. they are trying to make sense of something that will never make sense. they are trying to find a "truth" that they do not want to know. they are living their lives in mourning, in bereavement, in remembrance, of a missing little girl, and scully is terrified that they'll find her. that it will be exactly like roche threatens. that missing is not worse than dead.

and there is no one else. there is no one else that even knows how haunted he is. how stuck he is, in that childhood bedroom, like he said all those years ago. how deeply sad it is.

it's all of the little things. it's the "you did good work, mulder" in the beginning. it's the way she asks if he's okay to go tell the 14th victim's family. it's way she exclaims "oh my god" when roche says that he just wants to see mulder's face, when he finds samantha's body. one of the few times that we ever see scully lose control, but she just stands up and screams, opens the door and wordlessly waits for mulder to get up and get out of there.

it's the way that she hears "help me, scully" and digs in the dirt, with her bare hands.

(you can tell in his eyes here that he's been crying, and it really gets to me. there's so much that we don't see.)

in the end, they're back in the basement. nothing left but one scrap of tattered fabric, one more lost failure. it's over. she just comes down to check on him.

the progression of scully's face in this last scene is just unbelievably gut-wrenching to me. her smile, when she tells him to get some sleep, and he laughs. the way it disappears when he holds her, and can't see her anymore. with his mother, flashing that smile and hugging her was all that it took to convince her not to worry. when he repeats the same actions with scully, she looks like she could break.

this post:

Episodes like this make me think how alone - not just lonely, but truly alone - Mulder was before her. Nobody lost sleep over him falling apart under the fist of decades old trauma. Nobody grappled with him, let him wrestle his grief against them, and still stayed. Nobody visited him in the hospital, flew to Alaska, lied for him, stayed by his bed for days straight without an extra change of clothes. Nobody else knew he was suffering or wanted to, knew it more than he knew. That end of Paper hearts where she tells him to get some sleep, he laughs at the ridiculousness of it, but also out of incredulity at having someone to wish for better on his behalf. The heartbroken look on her face as he’s laughing into her waist seems to be her coming to the same realisation; “Who looked after you before? How long did you feel like this on your own?”

she is heartbroken. there is so much grief, in being starbuck. there's grief in being needed. there's grief in following ghosts. there's grief in loving someone who is so encased in pain, in loss. he will not go home and get some sleep. a well-placed joke, that smile, a hug, does not convince her that he's okay. he hurts so much, for so long, and he has one person who knows it. and all they do is keep moving: closer and closer to that breaking point that she is so afraid of, and they can't stop.

5/ redux ii

remember when dana scully lied on her death bed and looked up at mulder as he told her that he was not willing to jeopardize skinner to save himself, and she replied, "well, then, you have to lay it on me."

the way he smiles and shakes his head, chokes out "i can't...i can't do that." through tears...they are so kind to each other. all that she has left in the world is her reputation, and she says: take it. take it all. take everything.

she cries when he won't do it.

6/ herrenvolk

okay, i wanna get into some slightly lighter ones, so y'all remember when she nearly fully knocked skinner into the wall, because mulder came in with a (checks notes) scratch on his face?

this is just so scully.

she is so panicked. she just wants to slow him down, to stand between him and the world for even one moment longer.

these tags:

she's almost begging him not to go in. the extent of her worry is heartbreaking. she loves him. it frightens her to know what awaits him.

one of the biggest conflicts of scully's character is that she just cannot stop him, she cannot shield him, she cannot protect him. the way she leans up here, and pulls him to her shoulder. covers him with a blanket. this is what she can do.

there is so much grief in being starbuck!! in loving someone who walks blindly into a world that you do not trust. in following someone into the worst night of their life: over, over, over. years, years, years. in being first mate, holding the responsibility on your shoulders of having to steer in a safe direction, only having one to choose from.

(i also think it's really special, all of the little moments where she checks in. in the previous episode, in the hospital hallway, the way she says "are you okay?" so softly.

in paper clip, when she makes him stop, and says "no, wait, hold on a second...i don't think you've had time to process everything that you've been through."

remnants of the girl who told him she'll cover for him and he should just go get a beer, take some time for himself, after jersey. who suggested he talk to someone, when jerry lamana died. she's always wanted so much for him, but she understands more now. there's still room to pause, for a moment, before he carries on.)

7/ anasazi

ladies, would you shoot your man with a gun, to keep him from endangering himself, while he was being laced with LSD, and then drag him across the country singlehandedly, while he was unconscious, despite him being twice your size? and this, too, is taking care.

the way she says, "i was certain they would have killed you, mulder." and the fear in her voice, his hand on her knee. (she is so young. she really doesn't know what to do, not as often as she seems like she does). the way he says, "thank you. thank you for taking care of me." they are so kind to each other. it'll break your fucking heart.

(i remember asking y'all a few weeks ago, if mulder and scully ever say "i'm sorry," if they ever apologize to each other. and we came up with a couple of times. i'll tell you what, though: not as often as they say "thank you.")

8/ fire

girlbosses when they singlehandedly solve serial murders, to get their best friend's shitty ex away from them!!! okay, i put this one on here because we were talking about it yesterday, but scully really does handle the entire situation with phoebe so perfectly, and that's hard to do, when you're dealing with friends and abusers.

trish, i loved this part of your post yesterday:

scully gives him the space to talk about it, never says too much but she says enough. her phrasing is SO important. she repeats what he just told her in a way that frames it as wrong.

she's a little rabid, lol. we can see it on her face when she's alone, or when mulder's not looking. but around him (around phoebe too) she's calm. she listens, she addresses what he tells her as bad, without pressing. when he tells her that she's off the case, that he doesn't want to expose her to what phoebe is doing, she asks one time: are you sure you don't want help?

he says yes, and she does it anyway. she catches that fucking murderer so that this woman can go home. just, like, an inspiration to us all.

trish's tweet:

really, truly, genuinely. scully solving the case in fire was the absolute best course of action she could have taken. get that woman out of here, an ocean away from mulder. (give him freedom, let him heal, teach him what real love feels like)

(her eyes locked in on him here, phoebe behind her. the way that when phoebe leaves the room, scully says, "you alright?" instantly.)

meeting phoebe just a few months into their partnership made her so fucking crazy like...i make fun of her for being sick in the head in regards to everyone he meets (men and women alike) and never wanting anyone around him other than her but like, my god, can you blame her!!! he's such a gentle person and people are so cruel and it makes her eyes bug out of her head.

yeah, i really don't have much else to say here, you guys. she solved a murder herself, a case that she wasn't even supposed to be working, so that his old gf would go away and stop being mean to him. she doesn't play!!

(also! while we're on the subject of abusive exes, honorable mention to scully cornering diana into an empty room and telling her to "just think" about who mulder is, who he was when she met him, compared to where he is now. "and then try and stand there in front of me. look me in the eye. and tell me mulder wouldn't bust his ass trying to save you.")

9/ deadalive

oh, you guys remember that time she raised him from the dead, right?

scully at 8 months pregnant, sitting in that hospital chair, holding his hand, for days. knowing he can’t feel it, knowing that there’s nothing that says he’ll ever wake up. that it’s impossible. that there is no science…yeah. she just sits there and holds his hand.

i love the moment when she finds out, and she comes barreling through that hallway. she hits skinner first, and starts yelling, “i want to see him. no, i need to see him,” slams her fists into his chest.

then she moves onto doggett. repeats, “i need to see him” through tears. and the way doggett says… “i know. but i wish you wouldn’t.”

she’s loved. they want to protect her, protect her image of mulder as she knew him. but they also both know she will fucking plow them down.

i always think of this fic and feel so ill:

“I pulled you six feet out of the ground,” she whispers, dangerously low. “Because I couldn’t live without you. I gave birth to your child.”

she fed his fish while he was in a casket. she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery alone, at the same time. she ran herself ragged all over the country, trying to keep his work going. she raised him from the dead.

(i also feel that i can throw in here, as related, the time that she busted him out of prison and then abandoned everything in her entire life including her career, her family, and everything she owns, to go on the run from the law and live secretly in seedy motels for years to be with him.)

10/ fight the future

there are too many contenders for my last spot, so i’m gonna keep it simple, and go with the most special movie moment. (of all movies).

from my newsletter:

“Mulder watches the spaceship as it flies overhead, his face glows with a heart-melting grin of childlike wonder and awe.”(x)

That’s exactly what it feels like to me, it’s an innocence and excitement that was so present in season one, that was all over him when he told Scully to come look in the second episode, but that’s rare to see in the later seasons. It’s rare to see at this point in their story, after all that’s happened. They are stranded in Antarctica, both of them injured, both of them freezing in the cold, and they are holding each other and gazing up at the sky. What a perfect thing in their big momentous feature, to bring it all back to what it started with.

there’s such a reverent sentimentality to it, in the simplicity. she had stopped breathing, a few minutes earlier. but when he passes out, she pulls herself up, and grabs onto him. keeps him alive, keeps them both alive, just by holding him close. that’s really the heart of it.

(also, i find it so moving that this film is the only time in the franchise that scully considers leaving, not working with him anymore, and it’s because she thinks she’s not good for him. that she’s holding him back. she never considers him as anything other than wanted, something worth believing in.)

some honorable mentions to: little green men, which i’ve written about here. (especially her secret-signaling him to their secret meet-up place, just to ask if he’s okay). the erlenmeyer flask, which i’ve talked about here. (she literally stops him in the street to tell him that she should have listened to him, and she’s sorry, because she should have trusted his instincts. that means so much, you guys). her telling colton she hopes he falls on his ass after he was making rude comments about mulder in squeeze, screaming at a serial killer that she’ll gas him into hell herself and no one will stop her, if mulder isn’t okay, in beyond the sea….she has threatened and shouted at and smacked around so many people for fucking with him, and this too is care!! (anger meaning you’re worth being angry over, etc etc)

how desperately she became frantic to find their son, after 17 years resigned to never ever looking for him, never ever endangering him that way…because she became convinced that it’s the only thing that would help mulder.

and how important samantha is to her. it matters. it matters, that sam is remembered. that someone else in the world knows. someone knows that they played baseball in the summers, that they fought over the television, that he’s looked for her in every room he’s ever been in. someone else cares about her; not as a white whale, not as a photo on a desk, as a little girl who broke her collarbone because she played on swings too hard. scully listened to her journal, and cried. listened to how much she suffered. how much she just wanted to see her big brother. (scully kept a journal like that, too, once. underwent those same tests. almost died at the hands of those same men. wrote her testimony to that same person.) it’s taking care of mulder, to love samantha. and she does.

[krikidilly]

Can I get a double whopper with no cheese? Can I please get a number 2 with a large drink? I got money so I dont care how much it cost me

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

One day, you comes across the staffbot in the abandoned theater.

There is a fine layer of dust to them, just as there is on everything else in the room. You are hesitant to even walk in, at first. You climb the stares from stage right, approaching with enough time to let them back away if they wanted to. They don't. You come up so you are face to face with them. Though frozen in an empty, static pose, their eyes are dusky, lifeless. You stare for a while. It's odd, seeing your reflection like this.

You take the time to lower their suspended hands to a more relaxed position. You straighten their hat and adjust the front of their vest, dusting off the shoulders. You stand, looking at them for a while.

You don't check as you leave and carefully, noiselessly, close the door behind you, but you know their head turned to follow your silent departure. Both you know it will be a long time before you return. Hopefully, they do not blame you. No one ever likes coming to a silent theater to look upon the long-cold corpse of themselves.

[monkee-mobile]

peter having terrible nightmares after the devil and peter tork and it starts with mike climbing into bed with him late at night because he’d wake up to peter screaming and crying and then eventually all of the monkees just sleep in the same bed for a while so peter knows he’s safe

[nonuggetshere]

Oh I can't wait to refine and finally post the designs for PK's siblings in my AU, it really looks like their mother ran out of ink while making them

[flitterywings]

I love when it gets so incredibly windy outside that the trees sound like the ocean

[erebuslol]

Erebus,

The writer

'Maybe, it was for the best...but maybe, it wasn't.'

'My soul bleeds on paper just to not be enough.'

-

-

Tagging: @roseadleyn, @hadiacake, @that-one-pretty-bitch, @izumi-astra-123, @irene-ashford-00, @achy-boo, @lxdymoon0357, @tm1148, @writerig, @elijahissimplycooler & @brxithe.

[gottagetgogottagetattahere]

Trigun 98 korean dub deciding to come after my throat with rem's fucking lullaby. I know it's a localized lullaby because it's like. The Korean Lullaby but.

God damn. You know just by the song she was his mom huh. Okay.

[dnangelic]

dark singing might be completely headcanon but idgaf cause there's literally nothing cuter and more wholesome to me than imagining him singing from the couch in the niwa mansion because he's in a good mood, and everyone can hear him and smiles to themselves about it.