the 3.5mm headphone jack was the wound through which light entered your phone it was a little cave for angels to live in inside your phone and big tech got rid of it cause theyre scared of God the wrong way
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How about some middle-aged reflections on the early days of their (romantic/sexual) relationship?
They’re spreading mulch around the trees, tucking flowerbeds in for winter. The air is crisp and dry, sharpened by the pungent smell of the mulch.
“Got the Stanford alumni newsletter yesterday,” Scully says. “Guess who their new entomology professor is.”
He frowns back, puzzled. Her tone indicates that the answer is one he should get. Does he know any entomologists?
Mulder starts to shake his head. “I have no-“
He sees her face, the smirk she’s trying hide, and then he remembers. “Nooooo,” he says, drawing the word out with a laugh. “Bambi?”
“Bambi,” she confirms, grinning now. “Did you sleep with her? I honestly can’t remember.”
“No!” He’s a bit shocked that she thought this. He’d kind of wanted to though, he recalls. Little khaki shorts.
Scully rolls her eyes. “Oh, sorry to impugn your virtue.”
Mulder offers her a petulant look. “You make it sound like I was Wilt Chamberlain-ing my way through every case.”
She leans against the big sycamore, scoffs. “You’re mighty defensive there, Marty.”
He grins back. “Judge away. You weren’t putting out yet. Not to me, anyway.”
Scully laughs. “We were so young.”
“We were so young.”
She rolls her palms around the rake handle, her beautiful slim fingers with oval nails like the inside of a seashell. She’d been pretty back then, he thinks. Lovely. But now she’s ethereal, refined to some radiant essence.
“I think….hmm. I think some part of me really felt that if you and I followed the rules then everyone else had to as well, you know?” Her expression is a little wistful. A little sad.
He does know. “I like to think it made it that much sweeter in the end.”
“It did. I loved you so…so….purely. I remember when you made it to that Congressional hearing. I think I was done then. The rest was just waiting to happen.” She laughs, a little shy even now.
“You were like Beatrice,” he says to her, adoringly, in the honeyed light. “Come to lead me into Paradise.”
Scully drops the rake, walks over to take his hands in hers. “Is this heaven?” she asks, gazing up.
Mulder smiles back, squeezes her cool little fingers. The wind chimes on the deck ripple like harp strings. The sun makes a halo on her tawny head.
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mulder: we're stuck in a timeloop and blow up every single time, sometimes one of us gets shot, we're stuck on this stupid monday, i am having the worst day in fucking ever, my waterbed had a leak, i got abducted by aliens, we're having a baby
scully: since when do you have a waterbed??????????
i can't get over how offended she is that mulder has a waterbed she doesn't know about. scully really went if you get a bed it will be OUR bed, otherwise you'd choose the shittiest mattress known to mankind.
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bringing the potc fandom back one meme at a time #11
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Gustav Mathieu oil on canvas depiction of the Battle of Grivalotte-St. Privat from the Franco-Prussian War, dating to around 1900. Grand scale combat scenario in excellent shape as the French army advance through a town's ruins.
NY Elizabeth
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