#iwtb

[slayerbuffy]

Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny The X-Files: I Want to Believe bloopers.

[dailytxf]

I don't want that darkness in my home.

[elstabler]

their constant through the years 🥹

[mytardisisparked]

I am absolutely on the FLOOR about the fact that the agent Mulder sees in the hallway at the beginning of the movie is played by the actress who played Young Samantha Mulder.

[dgct2]

MULDER: If you have any doubts, any doubts at all, just call off that surgery this morning. And then we'll get out of here. Just me and you.

[Scully pulls away and looks closely at him, smiling slightly.]

SCULLY: As far away from the darkness as we can get?

[Mulder smiles.]

MULDER: I'm not sure it works that way. I think maybe the darkness finds you and me.

SCULLY: I know it does.

MULDER: But let it try.

I WANT TO BELIEVE (2008)

[bisexualfbiagents]

You're not understanding me. I can't look into the darkness with you anymore, Mulder. I cannot stand what it does to you or to me.

Dana Scully in I Want to Believe (2008)

[sunflowernyx]

cinematography

[twogravesinsomecemetery]

Scully thinks about Samantha far more often than Mulder does post-Closure and that my friends is the Entire Problem

In IWTB it's almost like she tries to pretend that their shared William trauma doesn't exist by associating everything with His problems and His trauma and then she wonders why Mulder gets so snappy with her when she brings it up ???

That one scene where he's talking about something completely different and she turns around to him and says: "stop thinking about your sister!!"

and it's like ?? girl ???

Nobody is thinking about Samantha right now except YOU

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

Hilarious 🤭

[dailytxf]

THE X-FILES: I WANT TO BELIEVE (2008) dir. Chris Carter

[elstabler]

we talk a lot about ‘i may not believe in god but i believe in you’ but not enough about ‘let me curse god for a while’ because that’s mulder’s way of saying he’s there to unburden scully, to really listen to her, to share her pain, to learn about her worries and take them from her to himself, and, more importantly, to be the bearer of a shaken faith so she can keep hers intact 😭

[unremarkablehouse]

I was a huge X files fan as a kid during the original run and I became so upset and disillusioned during season 8, I was literally heartbroken by how it was ruined for me. I just remember watching IWTB movie with my best friend on NYE because we were both huge fans together and I feel like that actually healed me. It took a few more years for me to obsessively rewatch the show and read fanfic, but I’m so glad the x files is more than what was written. Thankfully these characters transcend Chris Carter and the network, becoming something so much greater. Plus David and Gillian have that once in a lifetime chemistry that is so fun to watch..

[kool-beanz]

I wanted an "I WANT TO BELIEVE" desktop bg, so I made one.

[mytardisisparked]

Glass Slippers

Scully attends a Doctors' Gala for work and receives a painful reminder of what she cannot have.

Read on AO3.

For once in her life, she’s focusing on how badly her feet hurt. 

She’s worn heels for years, adding a few much-needed inches to her five-foot-two-inch frame. The pain of them never really goes away, but it’s something she’s learned to tune out, to not think about. She can ignore it.

Right now, she is not ignoring it. She is feeling every painful step, every pinch, every time the balls of her feet hit the floor and send a shockwave up her legs. She stews in it. 

She uses it to ignore everything else. 

Because, if she doesn’t, she will fall apart. The pain of her stupid, impractical shoes is the only thing holding her together.

The night had started out fine. She hadn’t really wanted to attend the Our Lady Of Sorrows Doctor’s Gala, but she had been not-so-politely reminded that her attendance would go a long way in gaining sponsors and donations that will, ultimately, allow them to better treat their patients. So, putting her best foot forward, she had dressed in her nicest little-black-dress, curled her ever-lengthening red hair, put on some of her better jewelry (though, most things in her jewelry box were cheap knockoffs these days; they had sold most of her good jewelry while on the run), and dabbed on a little more makeup than she usually wore around her eyes. Mulder had smiled at her and kissed her cheek as she left, joking about pumpkins and glass slippers. 

And then the Gala had begun. Scully had snagged some hors d’oeuvres and put on her best smile as one of the priests led her around for introductions. She had shaken hands and laughed at cheap jokes and politely declined dances with overly-confident men.

It was wearing on her, but she was fine. Until one of the nurses commented on Scully turning down so many dance partners. 

“It’s not like you brought a fella with you, and you don’t have a husband to go home to; why not give the dance floor a little spin?” 

Cecelia meant well, Scully knew, but the comment stung. No, it didn’t just sting – it burned. It sizzled and bubbled into the core of her heart and sat there, stinging and burning and hurting until Scully turned away with the intent of finding a quiet bathroom stall to collect herself in. 

She hurried across the dance floor, trying to ignore her coworkers dancing with their partners and spouses. The space just behind her shoulder felt empty; there should be a tall presence there, muttering inside jokes in her ear and making snarky comments to rude patrons. One of the dancers laughed as she walked by, their laughter echoed by their companion. Scully’s chest tightened and the void over her shoulder felt even more vast.

Before she could make it to the bathroom, one of the priests caught her arm and, without warning, she was being introduced to some other politician or another and her tears had to be choked back, even as a smile failed to reach her lips. 

“What’s wrong with you, Dr. Scully?” The priest asked gruffly as the couple walked away.

Scully simply looked at him, blinked, and walked away.

She was done.

Her feet hurt. 

Her feet hurt.

Her feet hurt, her feet hurt, her feet hurt, her-

She found her car and slipped inside, keeping her heels on even though she had brought sandals for the drive back.

Her feet hurt .

She drove and drove until she turned onto their road. The road to their home.

Her feet hurt.

She turned into the driveway, the golden glow of the kitchen windows standing out like a beacon in the darkness.

Her feet hurt.

And now, she’s standing on the porch, opening the door to find Mulder sitting at the kitchen table, smiling at her.

“Hey, Scully! How was the-”

She slides her heels off and steps into his startled embrace.

“-Gala?” He holds her close, even though his confusion is evident. At her lack of response, she can feel his breath catch and he hugs her even more tightly. “That bad?” he asks, the question whispered into her still-styled hair.

She nods against his chest and opens her mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a broken sob.

He rocks with her as she cries. She can feel his breath hitch a few times – the heart he wears on his sleeve is catching the sadness hers is leaking from all of its cracks and chips. 

Finally, she looks up at him and searches, for a moment, for some explanation, some way to express why she’s getting mascara all over his shirt.

In the end, all she can say is: “I missed you.”

And – gosh – those words really aren't enough. Or, at least, they shouldn’t be enough; not to explain all of the deep hurt she feels towards the people that have forced Mulder to hide, to keep them from being together in the open. The people who have made it so they may never publicly be a couple, be married, be dance partners at a stupid gala with insensitive coworkers and crummy hors d’oeuvres.

And yet, Mulder seems to see it all in her eyes or hear it in her voice or feel it radiating from her skin, because his gaze fills with understanding and he holds her cheek, placing a tender kiss on her forehead.

“I missed you, too.”

Her lip quivers and he holds her close again.

And then, slowly, he takes her hand in his, placing an arm around her waist, and begins to move with her in a slow, sweet dance.

She breathes deeply of his scent – laundry detergent and sandalwood – and finds herself calming down, coming back to earth. After a few steps, Mulder directs her to stand on his feet, easing her off of the hard floor so she can simply lean into him and let him rock her away.

She sighs and he seems to relax, too, swaying to some beat that only he seems to hear but she understands. 

Suddenly, he’s spinning her and, despite herself, she’s laughing.

He’s smiling, too. As soon as she’s facing him again, he takes both of her hands in his and looks her over in that way of his, the smile still on his lips.

“You look beautiful.”

She looks down at the floor. “My makeup is running everywhere.”

“You still look beautiful.”

“Mulder-”

“Scully.”

His tone is so serious that she looks back up again, finding nothing but earnestness in his face.

He presses a kiss to her knuckles. “C’mon. Let’s get you into something more comfortable, huh?”

She nods, allowing him to lead her to the bathroom. 

He helps pull pins from her curls as she takes out her earrings. She’s pleased to find the cheap metal hasn’t made her earlobes itch. He warms up some water and wets a washcloth with her face scrub on it. As she wipes away her makeup he turns on the bath, heating it up and throwing in a handful of scented salts. 

He unzips the back of her dress. She helps him out of his shirt. Soon, they are both comfortably settled in the water, Scully’s feet sitting in his lap. Gently, he lifts one into his hands and begins rubbing the arch. With a smile, Scully leans her head back against the side of the tub, savoring the relief augmented by the salts and relaxing lavender scent.

After a moment, she looks up to find Mulder already looking at her, presumably to judge either the efficacy of his massage or her emotional state. Or both.

“Thank you,” she says, feeling the words throughout her entire chest.

He gives her a soft look. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With a sigh, she melts into the water and forgets, for now, the pain of wearing high heels.

[sculderand-mully]

new substack post defending i want to believe because i love scully’s hair

[x-files-polls]

Happy Valentine's Day! VISUAL SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES AND THE FILMS