#fraternize

It may not always feel that way when you step outside, but the signs are there. The forests that once stood tall and thick are shrinking. The oceans that used to cradle life in their depths are now choking on plastic and heating up faster than we’ve ever seen. The atmosphere, the delicate shield that keeps us alive, is being filled with carbon and chemicals—by us.

This is no distant threat. Climate change is happening now. It’s not some vague concept that only scientists need to worry about. It’s real, and it’s changing the planet in ways we can’t afford to ignore. Fires rage stronger and longer. Floods sweep away homes and lives. Droughts leave entire regions thirsting for water. These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re part of a global crisis.

Humans are the cause. Our industries, our consumption, our endless demand for more—this is what’s breaking the natural balance. We have pushed the Earth to its limits. The delicate ecosystems that have sustained us for thousands of years are collapsing. And once they’re gone, they’re gone. There is no bringing back the species we’ve driven to extinction. No reversing the damage to our oceans or forests.

We can’t sit back and wait for someone else to fix it. This is our home, our only chance, and we’re running out of time to protect it. It’s not just about saving the environment; it’s about saving ourselves. If we want future generations to have a world that can sustain them, we have to act now.

Well folks, it’s the smut you’ve been waiting for! Enjoy, you’ve earned it. <3 (Co-written with @admiralty-xfd) Read Noise Complaint here and read the preview below!

“Skinner’s a tough man to shake up,” Mulder remarked as he followed Scully into her motel room, kicking off his shoes and throwing his coat on a nearby chair to make himself at home. “This case is hitting him pretty hard.”

They’d been called late last night to report to North Carolina as soon as possible. One early morning flight and a long car ride later, and they were in Winston-Salem. Most of the day had to be spent navigating the fine line between trying to comfort Skinner and admitting they were dealing with something unexplainable, the former being made useless by the latter.

Mulder had gone off to investigate with Skinner while she was left at the county morgue conducting the autopsy. It’d been a long process trying to find any evidence to report back with, and that, combined with all the traveling they’d had to do, had made her body sore and achy. Mulder must’ve noticed her discomfort because as soon as she’d kicked off her heels, he’d pulled a chair in front of the bed and motioned for her to hop onto the mattress.

Ever since they’d made love for the first time after he’d gotten back from England, it was like the floodgates had opened and seven years of sexual tension had washed over them. She’d always thought post-coital bliss was a temporary high one had after coming down from the peak of passion, but Mulder was proving to her that post-coital bliss was a way of life and that sometimes an afterglow would never dim.

He had been nervous about what would happen after finally being together so intimately, fearing that she may regret it and the walls he’d been slowly breaking down since he kissed her during the New Year’s Eve ball drop would be erected again higher than ever, but that fear was assuaged every time he remembered her sweet kiss on the lips and the simple reassurance of a smile. There’s no going back now.

She grinned at his enthusiasm and hopped up on the edge of the bed, wordlessly putting her feet in his lap as she unbuttoned her jacket. It was hard keeping their hands to themselves in the field. For years people had been speculating they were sleeping together and they’d continued their lives unbothered, but now that they were, every touch and open expression of intimacy felt like a target on their backs. Mulder had noticed that was one of the primary things that made her nervous about this new step they’d taken, so he had been on his best behavior when they were in front of other people.

Now that they were alone, she could see the fire dancing in his eyes.

He started rubbing the soles of her feet with extreme care, watching her face to gauge how she felt. She smiled at him in reassurance and had to make an effort to keep her eyes from fluttering shut and moaning from just how good it truly felt. “How did it go with Skinner today?” she asked, her voice coming out low and smooth.

“We went to the Morley headquarters,” he replied, rubbing his palm against the heel of her foot. “They seemed more concerned about covering their own asses than trying to figure out what happened to the man who’d been working there for years. Dr. Voss even said he’d been friends with Scobie for fourteen years but didn’t even seem broken up that he was silenced,” Mulder explained, judgement heavy in his tone.

“Did you ask them about your bug theory?” she asked, setting her jacket to the side of her on the bed, leaving her in her purple tank top and black skirt - a sight she saw Mulder immediately enjoying as his eyes roamed her bare skin.

“I showed them the bug, and that’s how I learned it was a tobacco beetle. But they didn’t seem fazed by the fact it was found in Scobie’s home,” he responded, his ministrations on her feet sliding slightly higher onto her leg - a gentle seduction. “But I don’t want to talk about the case right now,” he murmured, his hand starting to slip under the hem of her skirt.

Before she had a chance to respond, he’d leaned forward and closed the gap, lifting her slightly so she was further on the bed and he could nestle himself on top of her. “Mulder,” she laughed, bending her legs a bit so her skirt inched higher and he could press himself closer. He silenced her with a kiss on the mouth, deepening it almost instantly so his tongue could glide against her own.

Fraternize by meetmeatthecoda Fandoms: The Blacklist (US TV)   Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Chapters: 3/3 Words: 1,587 Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen, Raymond Reddington, Katarina Rostova, Dembe Zuma, Lizzington - Freeform, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Season 7 finale, Re-imagined, because, obviously

Summary:

“Red,” she croaks, desperate and upset, and her tone gets his attention, has him whipping right back around to face her.

She wraps her arms around her middle in some misguided attempt at self-preservation.

“Red, what’s wrong with you?”

Mulder comforts Scully after a harrowing case. There will be a new chapter posted every day, so stay tuned! CC: @admiralty-xfd​ Read Wake Up Call Here, and read a preview below!

If Mulder had gotten there thirty seconds later, Scully would have been beheaded. For once, timing seemed to be on his side, and instead of lying in the morgue, she was in her motel room lying down. The paramedic had said Scully was lucky she didn’t have a concussion and that she’d just need to take care of the small cut on her head.

Lucky.

Would they have eaten her? Or was she tainted meat to them?

He let out a low breath as he roughly rubbed his hands over his face. Even though she was safe and in her room a few feet away from him, he still couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been to losing her tonight. So close to losing her again .

By the time they’d gotten back to the motel it was well past midnight. Sleep usually evaded him, but tonight he knew he didn’t have a chance in hell. Every time he so much as closed his eyes he could see her bucking wildly against her restraints while an axe glinted above her head in the firelight, her screams muffled by the gag in her mouth while her fingers scratched desperately at her bindings. Her eyes had been wild and frantic like a caged animal until she met his gaze, but even then he could tell she was shaken. Not that she’d tell him as much.

After he’d freed her hands she retreated back into herself. She was responsive when the officers came to take their statements and when the paramedic checked her out, but when it came to him trying to check in with her, she’d hidden how she was truly feeling behind a myriad of failed comforting grins and empty reassurances of “I’m fine.”

As much as he wished that were true, he couldn’t imagine anyone walking away from something like that unscathed. Since she wasn’t forthcoming, all he could do was trust her and hope she was as fine as she wanted him to believe she was, or at least, that eventually she would be. Aside from the late hour, all the noises coming from the other side of the thin wall sounded like her usual nightly routine, something he’d become accustomed to hearing during their cases together.

A few gentle knocks broke that normalcy and his startled gaze darted to the adjoining door.

“Scully?” he called out, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she replied from the other side of the wood. Her voice sounded strained to him and he was pulling the door open before he registered that she’d said anything at all.

Part two of the Tryst series, "Fraternize"  (co-written with @admiralty-xfd​), is now live!! Prepare yourselves for a collection of motel room vignettes spanning the course of Mulder and Scully's relationship! “Check In” Here, and enjoy a little prieview below!

Scully knew the rules and regulations held by most FBI agents didn’t necessarily apply to her and Mulder. They’d crossed several of those boundaries during their very first case together. It may have simply been the nature of their work, or perhaps even something more: something special the two of them shared that defied explanation. But the comfort and trust they’d experienced together that very first night was something she continued to hold close to her heart. She clung to it; remembered it on the nights they were separated, the nights where there was a wall between them: of the metaphorical kind as well as the physical.

Working on the X-Files had practically forced them to get close; be it shoulder to shoulder in some underground mutant’s lair, or backing each other up in front of powerful people in the bureau. Close in mind; in the way they volleyed and wrestled each others’ theories to the ground, one after the other.

But it also meant getting close in spaces where the work was no longer present.

“You smell like the drunk tank,” Scully chastised him as they left the diner. Mulder was covered in sweat and grime and the thick August humidity wasn’t helping matters.

He ducked into the passenger seat of her rented sedan and closed the door with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

She started the engine, then made a face. “No, Mulder, I’m sorry. I cannot drive us back to DC with you in the next seat smelling like that.”

Mulder glanced at his watch. “I’ve got an hour left before I have to check out of my hotel. Why don’t you take me there first so I can de-smellify?” He gave her a lopsided grin and ever so briefly something popped into her head that her friend had put out into the universe yesterday.

You said he was cute.