ext_10122 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2009-01-04 04:55 pm
anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-01-04 04:55 pm
Entry tags:
a weatherman to know which way the wind blows by zauberer_sirin (PG-13)
hi! i'm your x-files driver for this month.
let's begin!
Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Length: +4000 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
zauberer_sirin
Author Website: At her fic journal:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
42number
Why this must be read:
The first time I read this fic I couldn't breathe. I can say, without any doubt, that I have never been so affected by a fic in my life. I had lines that repeated themselves in my head for days; I re-read it countless times; thinking about it made me feel punched. The writing is exquisite, the structure wonderful, the creativity marvelous. Zau takes us backwards, from the end of the world to the beginning of The X-Files itself, all the way back to the pilot, with enough guh-worthy language to make your head spin.
Read it, read it, read it.
So, end of the world, uh.
He is watching her picking up the things from the car, shoving sports bags into the room.
It’s a date.
It’s more of a date than we ever had. Except that time we went to eat ribs.
That wasn’t a date, Mulder.
It was a date. We just didn’t know it at the time.
And he doesn’t ask when she knew, he has never asked, because he is a big coward and he is afraid of finding out that it wasn’t like that for her, that she didn’t record every (real or imagined) conversation in her mind, that she didn’t remember everything, that she wasn’t counting the accidental (or not) brushes of hands, fingers, the spaces between breaths, the sentences that the other finished, a list of all the times she made him smile, a list of all the times he made her smile, another list with all the times they made each other miserable and that was okay because miserable with each other was way better than happy with anyone else.
If he is alone in that, he doesn’t want to know. She already suspects he is a big, misguided pile of mush as it is and she would probably raise an eyebrow and say something patronizing, but sometimes he feels tempted to ask, sometimes he wonders who knew first, although he feels like he knew from the start, which can’t be quite right and anyway he believes applying the “love at first sight” stamp would only cheapen it down, even the simple word, love seems unhelpful, ludicrous, inaccurate and plain not enough.
He feels ordinary, everyday words can never ever apply to them because this is Scully, he had meant to invent a whole new language for her.
a weatherman to know which way the wind blows
let's begin!
Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Length: +4000 words
Author on LJ:
zauberer_sirinAuthor Website: At her fic journal:
42numberWhy this must be read:
The first time I read this fic I couldn't breathe. I can say, without any doubt, that I have never been so affected by a fic in my life. I had lines that repeated themselves in my head for days; I re-read it countless times; thinking about it made me feel punched. The writing is exquisite, the structure wonderful, the creativity marvelous. Zau takes us backwards, from the end of the world to the beginning of The X-Files itself, all the way back to the pilot, with enough guh-worthy language to make your head spin.
Read it, read it, read it.
So, end of the world, uh.
He is watching her picking up the things from the car, shoving sports bags into the room.
It’s a date.
It’s more of a date than we ever had. Except that time we went to eat ribs.
That wasn’t a date, Mulder.
It was a date. We just didn’t know it at the time.
And he doesn’t ask when she knew, he has never asked, because he is a big coward and he is afraid of finding out that it wasn’t like that for her, that she didn’t record every (real or imagined) conversation in her mind, that she didn’t remember everything, that she wasn’t counting the accidental (or not) brushes of hands, fingers, the spaces between breaths, the sentences that the other finished, a list of all the times she made him smile, a list of all the times he made her smile, another list with all the times they made each other miserable and that was okay because miserable with each other was way better than happy with anyone else.
If he is alone in that, he doesn’t want to know. She already suspects he is a big, misguided pile of mush as it is and she would probably raise an eyebrow and say something patronizing, but sometimes he feels tempted to ask, sometimes he wonders who knew first, although he feels like he knew from the start, which can’t be quite right and anyway he believes applying the “love at first sight” stamp would only cheapen it down, even the simple word, love seems unhelpful, ludicrous, inaccurate and plain not enough.
He feels ordinary, everyday words can never ever apply to them because this is Scully, he had meant to invent a whole new language for her.
a weatherman to know which way the wind blows
no subject
no subject
fixed, sorry about that. :)
no subject
no subject