#post-IWTB

[unremarkablehouse]

Story post-IWTB? I'd like to know more about that, please!!

Ask and you shall receive, here’s the unfinished draft. I actually have the majority written but I forgot about the story, choosing to write fluff instead 🤣

It’s not like he wanted the world to end in 2012 or for aliens to come and attempt to reclaim the human race. He didn’t even feel remotely sad that he wasn’t the one leading the battle to thwart the attack, dying and becoming a fugitive really quashed any savior complex he had. As Mulder realized that the timeline had changed, there would be no intergalactic Armageddon, his life force began to fade. He had made plans for 2012, none of which he had detailed to Scully, but she knew he’d thought about it. In her mind she hadn’t fathomed that everyone one of his plans and contingencies involved getting their son (and his adoptive parents) and bunkering down with them. The longing and wonder that he felt for William was akin to his search for Samantha, and the hope of being reunited with him kept him going until it didn’t. 

The grief he felt for his son enveloped his entire being as his heart lay broken and beyond repair.

Of the taboo topics that existed in their relationship William was pretty much top of the list, tied closely with The X files or any mention of government conspiracies. So Mulder never talked about what had been eating away at him, trying to internalize the pain like he had watched Scully do and try to pretend that he was fine.

But Mulder was far from fine, with no one to talk to and nothing he could do to change the situation the pain became a constant ache that he lost the energy to hide, finding himself engulfed in the heavy fog of depression. Scully had never seen him like this, so withdrawn and not responsive to her. Suddenly her Mulder avoided looking at her, recoiled from her touch and started sleeping on the couch. She begged him to get help, pleaded with him to talk to her, but he couldn’t hear her over the ocean of distance that had been placed between them. She couldn’t understand that the sight of her, something that had always brought him immense joy and comfort, now filled him with so much guilt and dispair. In his heart he believed that she would have been better off if he’d have stayed dead and spent sleepless nights imagining how her life would have been without him. The life she would live with their son, her friends and family had a life time of love that would make up for missing him. In that life his son would grow up knowing his mother and hearing about him through stories, surely that would be better than never knowing them at all? These dark thoughts played as a daily continuum, a constant discontented soundtrack he was unable to drown out. If only he’d have been able to turn it down low enough to notice that Dana Scully was floundering. Like two trees that had grown together, Mulder’s depression knocked Scully off balance. Her confidence and faith in the world had been shaken and she found herself heartbroken and in a perpetual state of disorientation. Not wanting to alert her mother to the issues she spent the weekend in a hotel room by the hospital. It felt frivolous at first, but as she cried her way through a 1hr deep tissue massage she suddenly found this sense of relief. In her hotel room she didn’t have a sense of fear, not knowing what mood she was talking into. As her heart lay wounded and exposed she craved a sense of control. By the second day Scully heard herself laugh out loud and was startled by the sound. As she ate her breakfast alone in the hotel's restaurant, she regretted leaving her phone up in the room and was forcing herself to try and get interested in the local travel guide she’d pick up. A small poodle mix puppy had broken free of his leash and had made a frantic dash towards the smell of food. The puppy had been distracted by his owner calling for him to stop that he hadn’t realized he was on a crash course for Scully’s table leg until it was too late. Paws flailing as he attempted to slow did little to lessen the impact as the tiny dog crashed into the table with a thump, knocking a piece of bacon off Scully’s plate in the process. The look of absolute delight and dumb luck that appeared on the dog’s face as he discovered the bacon made her truly laugh at the first time in awhile.

[thursdayinspace]

fic: ellipsis

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3,758

So many thanks to @miskitbisquit and @calimanc for being amazing betas! I decided a while ago to turn all the headcanons for how they could get married into fic. This is set post-IWTB, so they've worked on that case, he's a free man again, and that's where this all starts.

Summary:

He's a free man again – it’s what they’d barely dared to dream. Now, she barely dares to ask him what he wants to do with his freedom. He doesn’t know.

Read on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

[picklejarred]

i think the most beautiful thing about the scratchy beard scene is actually the reverence that that man holds her in, like the pure and utter love in his eyes, fondness in his smile, i just

[television-overload]

neither snow nor rain

(a short little X-Files fanfic)

Almost posted a headcanon that came to me this morning, then realized it worked better as a fic. So here it is:

Read on AO3

"What's this?"

"What?" Georgie asks, looking up at her friend.

"In the mail, check it out."

Quinn tosses a stack of glossy paper through the air, nearly knocking the gadget she's building off her worktable. It lands in a heap on top of her carefully organized wiring, and she shoots him an unappreciative look, to which he responds with a shrug.

"I thought that was out of publication," he says, nodding at the item he had so carelessly thrown.

She furrows her brows, adjusting her glasses before lifting it for examination.

As she scans over the words, her eyes widen, and she looks back at Quinn, now understanding his surprise at finding this in their mailbox.

"It's been years!" she says, flipping open the front cover of the magazine eagerly. It looks a little different, but the title on the front is unmistakable.

Quinn circles the table to look at it over her shoulder, obviously intrigued that this defunct publication had resurfaced out of nowhere.

"Wait," he says, reaching over her shoulder to turn back to the front cover. "That's different, right?"

His finger points to the title, and she squints at it, trying to picture the old magazines they'd stopped receiving about four or five years ago.

He's right to be suspicious. They don't give out their mailing address to just anybody, but this magazine had been pivotal in shaping their view of the world.

In fact, it was sort of how they met and became friends, probably more than a decade ago, at this point. It's not like it was a popular publication, like Time or People or National Geographic. When you see someone out and about with the same fringe interests as you, you can't help but gravitate toward them.

"The Lone Gunman," she reads aloud. "Wait, yeah, I think you're right. Wasn't it the Lone Gunmen?"

He nods.

"I wonder what happened. Maybe They got to them."

Georgie rolls her eyes. "Or they could have just parted ways. It has been almost five years, you know. Not everything has to be so dramatic."

"The editors of a conspiracy magazine?" he says, a disbelieving look in his eye.

"You never know," Georgie says. She'd always been the more rational one between the two of them. But, he has a point.

She opens to the front page again, and notes a number of differences between this and the old design from the late 90s.

The table of contents is there, just like it had always been. But instead of having a number of contributors listed (aliases, of course), each article appears to have been written by the same author.

F. M. Luder.

Well, hey, that's a name they recognize.

So, this is legit, after all.

The page is pretty sparse, other than that, but her eyes are drawn to a note at the bottom of the page, small and unassuming.

For the Gunmen. Miss you, guys.

Signed, your friend

"Man," Quinn says, letting out a breath. "See? What did I tell you?"

She's still not sure she's completely convinced, but she nods anyway, leafing through the remaining pages of the magazine.

"I wonder if I could send in that article I've been writing on the military use of extraterrestrial technology," Georgie says thoughtfully. "You think they still have that P.O. box for submissions?"

"Can't hurt to try," he shrugs.

She smiles, enjoying the feel of the freshly printed magazine in her hands.

"Now I just need to think of a good pen-name."

-.-.-

The house is still sparse, all scratched wood floors and peeling wallpaper behind its creaky doors. But it's beginning to feel like home, he thinks. Stacks of magazines line the walls where furniture should probably be, but they'll get around to that eventually.

For now, he's just enjoying not having to pack up and move every few days while constantly looking over his shoulder.

There's a small desk and a computer in the study, but that's about it. It's enough to keep him occupied while Scully is away. The place feels too empty when she's gone, but he knows it's a good thing. She needs to be around people, and now with her new job at the hospital, they've got a reliable source of income to work with, too.

His work is... more of a hobby, but he thinks it could bring in a little extra cash if people even bother with magazines anymore. A lot has changed since he was last an active member of civilization, so he really doesn't know.

The sound of gravel crunching on the driveway breaks the heavy silence that he's grown used to, and he decides to call it a day. The front room seems to light up with warm sunlight when she walks in, balancing a bag of groceries on her hip and a stack of papers in her hand. Her juggling act makes it difficult to pull the keys out of the front door lock, but she manages.

"Hi, Mulder," she says cheerily. She flicks on a lamp as she passes, and he watches her with the characteristic look of awe on his face that he always has when he's around her.

"I missed you," he says truthfully, entering her space to grab the groceries from her. He presses a kiss to her lips while he's at it, never one to pass up the opportunity.

Her free hand lands on his chest, its weight a familiar comfort to him, but he can feel the prickly edges of whatever else she's carrying against his stomach.

"What'cha got there?" he asks, glancing down at the papers. Envelopes, he realizes.

A playful smirk tugs at her lips, and she pulls away from him. Brandishing the envelopes in front of him like an offering, she watches intently for his reaction.

"It seems you have fan mail, Mr. Luder," she says, pride beaming from her face despite the raised eyebrow she levels on him.

His eyes widen, and he looks down again in surprise at the substantial stack of letters she carries.

"Really?" he asks, his voice cracking a little against his wishes.

She nods, and he thinks he detects a hint of tears gathering in her eyes, too.

"I stopped by the old P.O. box on my way home," she says. "I had a hunch."

"You?" he says teasingly, unable to restrain himself.

"I only opened one, but it seems your readers are thrilled to have you back, and they send their best wishes."

He chokes back an unexpected knot of emotion and feels a breathy laugh escape him.

"I can't believe it," he says, overwhelmed by the response to his attempt to keep his friends' memory alive.

She must find his disbelief amusing, because he recognizes her smile as one he's seen more times than he can count. "You're surprised?" she asks.

"Well... yeah." To put it mildly.

Scully shakes her head and sets her bag down on the threadbare couch, and he follows.

"I've read your case reports, Mulder. I think—and Skinner would probably agree with me here—you've found your calling."

He stands in stunned silence, for the first time in a while feeling that spark of passion reignite in his chest.

"Now if only we could get them to send me money," he jokes.

Scully tilts her head, flipping through the stack of letters to find the one she'd opened.

"They have," she says casually, as she withdraws a hundred dollar bill with all the air of a magician performing a trick.

His eyes widen comically again.

"You think there's more?" he asks, grabbing a few envelopes from her hands.

"Some of these are pretty thick, Mulder," she says, a knowing glint in her eye.

The tension in his shoulders evaporates, and he tosses the letters aside to pull her into his embrace. Any worry that he'd have nothing to do, no way to contribute to this life that he's all but trapped her in, goes away in an instant. Relief overtakes him, and Scully holds him tight around the middle, smiling proudly over his shoulder.

"They'd be so happy that you're continuing their work," she says, her voice unable to muster anything more than a whisper.

Words fail him, so he presses a kiss to her forehead instead, his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"I hope so," he says, glancing heavanward as if he might see the three of them flying around like little cherubs on his water-stained ceiling.

"I hope so."

-.-.-

Mr. Luder,

I'm terribly sorry for your loss. My friend and I are longtime subscribers of The Lone Gunmen, and we feared the worst when they stopped publishing years ago.

Receiving the copy you sent in the mail was a wonderful surprise. I'm sure we will be writing again soon to pick your brain on some of the details in your articles (is there really confirmation of a flukeworm-human hybrid in New Jersey?).

I didn't see a form to renew our subscription, but if you include it in your next edition (I do hope you'll continue!), we will happily send along payment with it, as securely as possible.

I hope this letter reaches you. Thank you for carrying on with this important work. We (your subscribers) truly appreciate it!

Sincerely,

Queen George (and Sir Quincy)

(P.S. I've attached a draft of an article I've been working on. You're welcome to include it in a future publication, if it meets your standards of approval. I'd happily welcome feedback, as well! If I recall, you're the expert on this particular subject.)

-.-.-

Tag list ♡: @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson

[deathsbestgirl]

did i never post this one fic idea...

mulder & scully go on vacation and stumble onto a case. but it's scully who keeps witnessing the paranormal (not religious) and mulder keeps missing it. she tries to ignore it. like just tells the authorities what she can and move on. but she keeps stumbling back in and eventually, she can't walk away. mulder pretends to be shocked at her working when they're on vacation, and at first he dismisses it as an x files but she's so insistent and he trusts her.

like chinga or tithonus but he's actually with her.

[carefulfears]

JUST NOTICED THE FISH TANK IN IWTB. EVERYBODY FREEZE.

[invidiosa]

Flashback Friday!

Tagged by the amazing @thatgirlnevershutsup. Thank you!

So I'm going back to 2010 with a post-IWTB story: In a Graveyard

Summary: He hated snow…Mulder attends a funeral.

Skinner shook his head. "You're unbelievable. Isolation has actually made you more egotistical. You must've been a joy to live with these last six years." One thing Mulder knew was that regardless of how many times Skinner threw everything aside to help him, there was only one reason he did it: for Scully. And this was Mulder's cue. "Thanks for the chat and for the cuddle the other night, Walter. Drop by any time now that I'm not a wanted man." Mulder started to back away. Skinner rolled his eyes and walked past him, back down to the path. "Get over yourself, Mulder. There's something here you need to see."

This was posted on LJ where it didn't get a lot of attention. It was after the heyday of e-mail lists and Ephemeral when we would get so much feedback for XF fics. So I felt like it flew under the radar. I guess I could move it over to AO3, but I'm lazy so it remains on my old fic site and on my old fic LJ.

Tagging @doctorhelena, @audreyroget, @lilydalexf, @leucocrystal, @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week, @rozf , @bowiecadmium and anyone else who wants to post some old fic!

[medicaldoctordana]

Title: All the Magic of a Prayer

Ship: Scully/Skinner

Rating: M

Word count: 1,400

Read on ao3

Scully sat with her ankles crossed at the bar. Her second drink of the night was nearly gone, mostly remnants of melted ice having struggled through her tumultuous rumination. Red tendrils were amassing with frizz, having had fingers run through them in worry. It had been a hard week at the hospital. The research phase was over now and the results were not looking in her favor.

Three of her patients were reacting poorly to the treatment, the two that had passed hours ago left her with a taste in her mouth that could only be resolved by a very strong drink. They also left her with a begrudging desire to call him- someone she hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. He had always been an anchor point for her, someone who was solid and reliable, someone who kept her steady.

When she looked up from her drink and saw him standing there, she felt like maybe Mulder was right once or twice. He insisted time and time again she had some kind of supernatural powers. Maybe she did conjure him here- sent out a cosmic message, finally mastered the art of telepathy, whatever.

The bar she was in was dark and filled with crisp button shirts and sleek black shoes. Scully let out a puff of air in a laugh to herself, they both fit in the scene with their professional attire, they dressed the part quite spectacularly. Her eyes raked over him, admiring the pull of his belt and how it framed his body.

He was speaking to a couple, looking like he ran into them there instead of arriving together. They looked like old friends and Scully took a moment to lament her lack of relationships like that. She never ran into people she knew, never got invited to weddings, and never grabbed coffee with an acquaintance. Scully wondered what it would be like to be one of those people. What it would be like to be known.

Sure, her research was gaining plenty of attention, and requests for consults were flooding her inbox, but those professional interactions remained as such. They didn’t exchange personal details, they didn’t show each other moments of personal vulnerability. No, Scully rarely did any of that anymore. Her family and Mulder were all she had. And since leaving Mulder not too long after the case with Father Joseph, all she had was work and all she did was spend time with her family or alone.

Watching the events before her, Scully decided she needed to change. She wanted to have those interactions. Scully wanted to be Dana again, at least for a few moments now and then. She sat up taller on her stool and uncrossed her ankles. Her ice melted with the final ruminating thoughts, and her drink was wordlessly replaced by the bartender. Her stare off in the distance distracted her and allowed him to sneak beside her and spook her.

“Dana, I’ve been thinking about calling you. Seeing how you’re doing. How…how are you?” The tenderness in his deep voice soothed her. It washed away weeks worth of stress and she found comfort in the familiarity.

“It’s funny.” She said before turning her head to look at him. He still wore his rounded glasses, still wore the same ties. She missed it.

“I almost called you today. It’s kismet to see you now.” Scully was drunk. She hadn’t eaten all day, except for a banana, and came straight to the bar after her last failure of a 7-hour surgery. Despite her rotten mood, she had just enough alcohol to be giggly and happy in his presence.

“It’s…wonderful to see you too, Dana. You look…good. Tired, but good.” Skinner could see the wear on her skin. He could tell she wasn’t her usual put-together self tonight and signaled a chaste goodbye to the friends he had run into. He wasn’t going to leave her side until she was tucked into bed safely tonight. Clearly, she was in need of a friend.

Scully tipped her head back and laughed, if he thought she looked good, then he should look in a mirror.

“Sir- sorry, Walter. It’s Walter now, you’re not my boss. You’re my friend. I don’t even work for the FBI! Walter! Walter, Walter. YOU look good!” Dana placed her palm on his chest and put on a mask of desire.

Skinner smiled at her reaction, he rarely got a chance to interact with Dana when she was in her more relaxed state. He liked how she held herself when she wasn’t being reprimanded for Mulder’s mistakes.

Scully and Skinner spent a few drinks reminiscing over the good ole days and learning the unknown side of memorable cases and harsh consequences. Scully really got to know how much shit Skinner shielded them from and how hard he worked to keep The X-Files open.

Then, stumbling through her front door, she wasn’t sure how she ended up like this. Skinner had her pressed up against the wall just inside her apartment. His thick quad supported her much smaller frame as she sloppily kissed him back. Reminiscent of their brief elevator kiss, these were much more needy and comfortable. She hooked her bare leg around his hip and pulled at his shirt to get it off.

Scully felt taken care of in his arms. They were new and exciting, while also familiar and calming. Her body felt loose, from the passion and the alcohol. With both their shirts now hanging open, they parted and panted, confronting what they had started in the cab ride over. His gaze asked for consent as he reached for her thigh and started to push her skirt up. Dana nodded enthusiastically and kicked off her heels before hiking her skirt above her hips.

Skinner kneeled before her, preparing to pray to her like a deity. He pulled down her simple dark panties and approached his sanctum.

Missing the hair to latch onto, Scully’s hands scaled the walls behind her as her body responded to Skinner’s technique. She thrust her hips forward, finding it hard to go anywhere else with his thick fingers dragging her closer. Feeling the pitch increase, Dana reached down for something- anything to hold on to. She found his shirt collar and was satisfied with that until he started sucking her clit and she pulled tight on his tie still around his neck.

Her staccato wails as she reached her climax regretfully slowed down his movements. Taking his time, Walter pulled away from between her legs only so he could kiss her thighs and push off the rest of her shirt.

Scully then found herself on her bed, watching her former boss remove his belt and stand before her in his white-e-tighties. She looked at him with an amused glean in her eye and laughed. She was having fun with Walter- he called her Dana and treated her with such kindness and reverence. While there was no thought in her mind about a romantic relationship with him, she could see them having fun now and again. Weren’t they calling it friends with benefits nowadays?

Scully unhooked her bra while Walter pulled off his underwear. He cautiously approached her bed, not knowing if this was a sacred space for her- if he would be rolling into someone’s saved space.

“We haven’t- not here,” Scully said without him having needed to ask.

“I didn’t want to-“ Walter started before Scully cupped his face and cut him off with a kiss.

Dana leaned back and pulled the man over her. She brushed her hand against his cock and smirked as he grunted and twitched.

“Dana, I want you to fucking rail me,” his gruff tone barked out. He pulled her hips out from under him and flipped them over so she sat upon him.

“Careful, Sir. That kind of language will get you sent to the AD’s office.” Dana swiveled her hips over him, teasing with both body and words.

His response was a grunt and throwing his glasses on her side table.

“But then again, I’ve always been one to heed my boss’s orders,” she drew out her words with swipes of her body against his.

As she suspected, Walter Sergei Skinner was packed to the gills.

[mulderscreek]

The X-Files 3rd Movie challenge

Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write your version of the third X-Files movie, as a story (not a screenplay, oh please, not as a screenplay); this is what you would most like to see as a plot of a third movie should one ever be filmed. And your story/movie must contain either a child ages 0-19 or a pregnant character. Other than that requirement, you're free to imagine anything you'd like as a plot to the next X-Files movie. Think big, though, and movie-like.

And while you are required to set your story after I Want to Believe, it's up to you whether or not seasons 10-11 have also happened. Include them, AU them away, your choice.

We'll go pop our popcorn as you prepare your new masterpiece for our reading pleasure.

Please submit your story or the link to it to nurseryfiles@mulderscreek.com or post here on our submissions Tumblr - or send me a message with your fic on Tumblr to reblog.

[whenmuldermetscully]

Thinking about how right now Mulder and Scully have a 6 year old daughter…..

I really hope that if there is a reboot, that they’re not picking up where we left off on the dock. I’m too tired and don’t want to have to see Scully go through another traumatic pregnancy. The storyline already being what it is — just pick it up with the child already here and a bit grown.

Chris loves his monologues. Just recap us there

[nachosncheezies]

In defense of late-canon x files (including the revivals)

I was thinking about this poll after I commented on it, and I kinda want to be brave and say more.

Short answer to the poll's question before I go any further: If you're a new fan and a sensitive sort who thinks you'll struggle with your blorbos Really Going Through It and you really need a happy ending, I suggest you stop at the end of season 8. Do not pass go, do not look at spoilers. Disregard this post entirely, close the internet, and go look at something that makes you happy. (Also fuck every part of society that characterizes sensitivity as inherently weak and bad and some kind of personal failing, you are valid.)

That said, "quality" as a concept is entirely subjective, and the question of whether or not there's a decline in quality for any story is wholly subjective, too. In the case of x files? I'm not convinced there is a decline. I am going to be upfront that I haven't yet watched past season 8, though I am almost completely spoiled on events after that - and the reason I haven't watched yet is not because of how I know events are going to unfold, but simply because I don't want it to end!!! Ohh, the tension between "I CAN'T WAIT!!!" and "Nooo don't be over D:"

When I first came to txf fandom on tumblr and gradually became spoiled about what happens in late canon though, I was often left uncomfortable and tbh kinda queasy about it. As I said in my comment on the poll, the hate for especially the revival and IWTB, or to a lesser extent even seasons 8 & 9, is very well documented. But! There are other takes to be found here on tumblr if you figure out where to look, and my feelings have changed!

The thing is, I have yet to find myself in any fandom where there isn't a vocal subset of fans who dislike the story after a certain point. I am not joking when I say that no one hates the things they love as passionately as sci-fi and fantasy fans. In my experience, it often hinges on the extent to which a viewer has strong notions on where they would like the characters to end up. In particular with series where shipping is a dominant component for the bulk of a fandom, I have almost universally found that there comes some turning point in the story where "let them be happy you cowards" is the dominant view, and things that compromise the attainment of a degree of romantic stability and/or domesticity are, to many fans, annoying at best and despicable at worst. But! As one tagset on the linked poll said:

and I think for any fandom, that last tag especially is so so so important. (I think that's harder for people watching a weekly series live, bc you have so much time to analyze and speculate and dream before the next breadcrumb drops, but I digress.)

So why am I saying this and how do I apply it to x files? Well, I eventually found that there are also a subset of fans who find redeeming things right up to the very end and actually quite like the whole thing! The things that I had seen people rage and ventpost so much about honestly never quite sounded to me as "out of character" or "untrue to the story" etc as those same ventposts made them sound. And I've discovered I'm not the only one who felt that way. Do I love that the spooky squad had to go through all of those things? No, those poor guys D: Life is hard and they have been through so much trauma. But do those events and their choices make sense to me in light of everything that came before? Yes! And I honestly can't wait to see them fight to overcome those things, breaking, healing, always learning, always growing, always getting better.

So if you're wondering "where does it go wrong"... well, I'm a completionist, as many people who've answered that post are, but also my personal opinion is that I don't think it does go wrong. If you're new and interested in exploring why I've gone from "vaguely queasy" to "excited" about the whole thing, or want to maybe balance out the impressions you're getting about the later seasons before deciding whether or not you want to see the whole thing, I'll put a few blog names in the comments.

Final admission: even once I started feeling a little more confident in the possibility that "actually ok maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this all kind of is in character and does make sense", there was one big plot point that I was NOT looking forward to and I thought I would never be comfortable about. In hindsight, I think my discomfort came from the negative responses being SO seemingly universal that I hadn't stopped to let myself truly consider other possible interpretations on that point. (I mean my initial instinct when I first read about it was, why are we mad about this?? CSM is literally the most unreliable narrator in history???? it's obviously fake news?????? this must be either a fever dream someone's having or it's a misdirection ploy against whatever shadowy forces might still be lurking?????????????? but for whatever reason I guess I had halfway written that off.) Happily, just last month there's a new post-s11 novel out, and although reviews for the book as a whole are mixed, it seems to have laid the groundwork for resolving that plot issue in a way I think most fans would be broadly happy with. If you're interested in being spoiled about that and seeing how, I recommend searching #perihelion on @agent-troi who liveblogged reading it with receipts, scroll back chronological-style to the first post on the subject and see how it unfolded. (And never forget that Dana Katherine Scully is the queen of denial as a coping mechanism lol)

Everyone's mileage will vary. Each person can feel however they want! But for anyone new, I wanted you to know that the very many ventposts you might be seeing are not all there is to this show or its fandom. Some of us love it despite - or even because of - all the things that went "wrong". I think we just don't talk about it as much.

[randomfoggytiger]

Do you have a list of comfort fics? Not them comforting each other but for when you're feeling wrecked and you just need something lovely to make it better?

randomfoggytiger's Comfort Fics

I'm not joking: I've reread more fics than I'll ever read new ones. My usual routine is to pop open Google docs, select an author, and mow down their list.

These three pieces were the ones that started it all; but I forgot to include @seek-its-opposite's photosensitivity. A+s, all of 'em.

Authors that I can't single out comfort fics from and can't tag because Tumblr is restricting my tag options: @baronessblixen, @settle-down-frohike, @onpaperfirst, @markwatneyandenesemble, Lapsed_Scholar, Apostrophic, @ghostbustermelanieking, @o6666666, touchstoneaf, @welsharcher, @scenes-in-between, @mldrgrl, @spooky-nerd, @melforbes, etc.

**Note**: Will ghost edit later~

PART I

Bittersweet Comfort Fics

misslucyjane's Scully seeks insomnia advice from Mulder, and Mulder dies, then lovingly watches Scully live the rest of her life

Kipler's cancer arc set casefile involving WWII vets and letters

melforbes's cancer arc Mulder takes his new bride to the sea for her last spring, and Pre-IWTB Mulder and Scully finally have a home

MldrItsMe's AU Redux II Scully is REALLY suffering, and Sein und Zeit Mulder's suicidal confessions

@discordantwords's Mulder and Scully are almost killed by the Fiji mermaid

mixiz877's Mulder and Scully fight off a gryphon

@fbismostunwanted1158's Scully is beaten down ala Stella Gibson in The Fall

Joyce's S5 AU Mulder is killed, comes back to life to save Scully, and Mulder dies but stays as Scully's partner solving cases with her (Part 1, Part 2, and-- my favorite of the three-- its Halloween sequel)

@teethnbone's post Travelers fic with Mulder and Scully

@sarie-fairy's AU Tithonus love confession, Post Milagro Scully realizing what it feels like to be Mulder, and Post The Unnatural Scully is bleeding out on a failed Sasquatch hunt

@sigritandtheelves's Post Monday Scully remembers Mulder's death

whatliesabove's Post Milagro Scully stays dead (or does she?)

ChaneenW's Pre-IVF arc Mulder is shot into a parallel timeline, reliving the Small Potatoes adventure with Scully

dee_ayy's post Amor Fati recovery fic (with baseball)

@bohoartist's Sein und Zeit through Scully's eyes, and Post Closure Scully rescues a photo of baby Mulder

Lolabeegood's AU where S8 Mulder is returned with false memories (would also recommend Lolabee's IWTB era fics, btw.)

@dreamingofscully's AU S9 Skinner entices Mulder back into profiling... and it doesn't end well

@television-overload's Pre-IWTB Mulder surprises Scully with a baseball field (and his old self again)

@queeenpersephone's AU where IWTB Scully stuck it out with Mulder

@danascullysjournal's Post IWTB bonding fic between a discouraged Mulder and uplifting Scully

@kateyes224's Mulder and Scully content in their UH, and Mulder sells the UH, and Scully buys it

@realmofextremepossibility's Breakup Mulder waiting for Scully's return Part I and Part II.

vulcanscully's Post Breakup Scully stops hearing from Mulder and assumes the worst

enigmaticdr's AU post IWTB Scully thinks she has cancer again (she's pregnant), Breakup Mulder is defeated at their anniversary dinner, AU where Revival Scully gets cancer, and The Revival baby laughs for the first time

prufrockslove's AU Mulder is a Welsh prince, Scully is his betrothed bride, and lots of Prince John high court drama ensues (part I of a sweeping, interconnecting AU series)

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[thursdayinspace]

So many feelings about Mulder’s emotional journey and how it affects his relationship with Scully from early on over iwtb to the revival, related to this post and everything @deathsbestgirl says about the parallels between the scenes. In "Detour," we see Scully coming to his room with wine and cheese and he promptly runs off without even telling her what he's doing. In "Plus One" in the revival, he waits for her behind a closed motel room door. He makes the offer for more this time around. It's her choice what to do with it.

In "Detour," when Scully comes to his room offering to spend a nice evening together, just the two of them, Mulder really isn't ready. He has so much on his mind and so many things keeping him from being with her. A lot of that is down to the fact that his -- their -- search for "the truth" takes up so much of his life. He knows how he feels about her, but acting on it would be a tectonic shift in their lives. And sometimes he also is simply too caught up in his quest to notice. Sometimes, maybe, he takes her for granted. In any case, it's too much. He can't risk what they have because there is so much at stake. Their search for truths, but also his heart.

Then there's Mulder in iwtb who has no idea what to do with himself. He knows he loves her and he wants to be with her, but he also gets so caught up in the work after being cut off from the world for so long. He's directionless, lost, torn between all the things he wants, just looking for anything to hold onto that will give his life meaning. In "Detour," he has a purpose, and he knows she's with him on that. In iwtb he has no purpose at all and something is not quite right with their relationship, which is all he has (which is also part of the problem). He's in nowhere-land and just looking for something, anything. He has no idea what he wants apart from wanting her, but being someone's partner is not enough of an identity for anyone. He has nothing that defines him.

In the revival, he knows what he wants. The work is undeniably important to him, but what he wants is a life with her, in which they can both be their own people too. From his intense, focused drive in the early years over his directionless despair and depression in iwtb we get a Mulder in the revival who is settled, secure in his goals and needs, even if it hurts. He has accepted his pain too. He knows. And he will wait. He doesn't pursue the fixing of their relationship frantically like he used to do with his search for answers. He's there, he's hers, and she can take him up on that when she's ready. And if she's never ready, he's still hers. The way he loves her is so gentle and calm, even in the moments where it becomes apparent how desperately in love he still is with her. But he makes the offer, and when she comes to him, he's there, waiting. And the important part is: he can do that because he has a place in the world. He knows who he is. He no longer carries the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, and he's also no longer floating in space. He doesn't have all the answers. He still wants them, but the search doesn't define him in the way it used to. Neither does his relationship with her.

In ftf he tells her that she made him a whole person. I'm not sure he was able to fully grasp the meaning of that at that point, but that doesn't make it any less true. She helped him keep his course and not give up. He could keep going because he wasn't alone and because she challenged him. But he needed something to be challenged on. He exists in extremes in the earlier years and in iwtb. In the revival, he has found a middle ground and he has found patience and the ability to stand still. To wait. To not be all or nothing anymore. We still see him doubting himself and his beliefs, wavering, being insecure, and we see her being there for him when that happens. He's still Mulder, and he still needs to Believe. But now he's become the one with the wine and cheese. It's there for her whenever she wants it.

[leiascully]

“I wish you would write a fic where…” — Scully is pregnant with (or has already had) baby 2, and Diana is somehow not dead & she comes back into the XF…. Set in either IWTB era (Mulder’s depression) or post s11 (the fall out of CSM and Jackson etc)

1/2

Here you go!

Scully’s in the office looking at pictures of baby Joy on her phone when she hears the knock. It takes her a moment to look up. Joy’s only been in daycare a few weeks, and the only person who ever knocks is Skinner. Instead, when she looks up, there’s a tall woman with an elegant grey chignon and a chic suit with a visitor’s pass clipped to the lapel. Scully’s breath catches in her throat. But it’s not Teena Mulder - it doesn’t even really look like her. There’s just something about the aura she brings that carries that same scent of graceful suffering, like a vintage perfume that’s spoiled somehow.

“Diana,” she says evenly. “Or is it Agent Fowley?”

“Hello, Agent Scully.” Diana gestures to a chair. “May I sit?”

“Be my guest.” Scully sets her phone on the desk, face up. Diana would know she’s recording their conversation. They’ve both learned to keep track of the evidence.

Diana glances at her screen. “She’s a lovely child.”

“Thank you,” Scully says without flinching. “She’s our little miracle.”

“Yes,” Diana says, “somehow they do find their way to you, these miracles. But I suppose you deserve them, after all you’ve endured.”

“Is it Agent Fowley?” Scully presses.

Diana demurs, sweeping away the idea with one hand before it returns to clasp around her crossed knees. “Fox might have returned from the grave to his former employment, but I had no wish to rejoin the FBI’s ranks.”

Scully smiles faintly. “That was a long time ago.”

“Another lifetime,” Diana says. There’s a glint in her eyes, a tension around her lips. Scully doesn’t respond to the jab.

“How can I help you, Diana?” She picks up a pen. “Assistant Director Skinner assured me they’ve upgraded the fire mitigation system, by the way.”

Diana doesn’t react. She seems to be thinking. “I suppose I came to talk to you,” she says at last.

“To me?” Scully tilts her head. “I’m not sure exactly what you think we have to say to each other.” She stares at Diana for a long moment, sifting through the memories. It’s been so long. Another lifetime indeed.

She remembers her last encounter with Diana, the oblique contact, the fear, the rage, the genuine sorrow. “I do owe you a thank you. You’re the one who left the envelope with information about where they’d taken Mulder.”

Diana stirs, as if she’s come back from the depths of her own mind. “Whatever you think of me, Agent Scully, I never wanted either one of you to die.”

Scully smiles, just a little. “Likewise.”

“I believed in the mission,” Diana tells her. “I believed it would save us all. I knew I was working for men in over their heads, but I didn’t see another way.”

“I know,” Scully says, and she does. She does, now that the world didn’t end. Now that the black oil has receded and the shapeshifters have vanished, now that the supersoldier project has been decomissioned, she understands the things Diana did, and why. She will never understand the rest, but she has that.

“I’m sorry for my part in what they did to you. But I wouldn’t change the choices I made.” Diana nods toward Scully’s phone. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you got your miracle.”

“Thank you,” Scully says, and she means it.

They gaze at each other, blue eyes and brown. At last they have taken the true measure of each other, and neither is found wanting. The betrayals of their younger years are old scars now. There isn’t any pain there. It almost doesn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. They moved through different worlds. Of course their paths diverged. Scully, who has loved Mulder and lost him and fought her way back to him a hundred times, understands the urge to reach for him.

Beyond this moment, she knows they will never see eye to eye. She knows Diana knows it too. This is the peace soldiers only find in the middle of the battlefield, when the war is over.

“Thank you,” says Diana.

“For what?” Scully is startled.

“For standing up to the Syndicate, at great personal cost. If their mission was just, their methods were not. Spender’s least of all.”

“Jeffrey came back, you know,” Scully says.

“Yes. He always had too strong a sense of justice to stomach the work.” Diana leans forward just a little. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She doesn’t mean Jeffrey Spender.

“You’re welcome.” Scully’s voice is steady, somehow.

“I can’t say I was deceived,” Diana tells her. “I went into the work with my eyes open. But the world shifted. The plans changed. Whether I couldn’t keep up or I didn’t want to is irrelevant. I wasn’t given the choice.”

“You were a pawn to them,” Scully says.

Diana inclines her head with a economy of motion Scully can’t help but admire. It’s neither agreement nor disagreement, just an acknowledgment of Scully’s own truths. “Well. I’m not any longer.”

“Good,” Scully says.

Diana uncrosses her legs and stands up. “There’s no need to tell Fox I was here.”

“I assumed you came to see him.”

Diana tilts her head and smiles. “No, Agent Scully. My unfinished business was with you.”

They don’t shake hands. Scully watches Diana leave. She taps her phone to stop the recording and then cups her chin in her hand, staring into space. She wonders if Diana will be on the security footage. She wonders if anything has gone missing in the last hour or two. Maybe respect can look like paranoia. Maybe the past can’t be entirely overwritten, but the book can be closed. Maybe this is what peace feels like when a ghost is laid to rest.

Mulder comes in half an hour later and finds her still thinking. He sets a coffee down on the desk in front of her.

“Missing our pride and Joy?” he asks.

“Hmm?” Scully says. “Of course.” She comes back to herself and shuffles the papers on her desk.

“What were you up to all morning?” he asks, settling into a chair with the lazy grace he’s never lost.

“Oh, talking with an old friend,” she says, and it hews close enough to the truth.

[television-overload]

Field of Dreams

(an X-Files fanfic)

Part I

Mulder's favorite movie inspires him to fill his seemingly endless free time with a special project shortly after moving into the Unremarkable House.

I was reading a bunch of fics about dad!Mulder and baseball, and had the sudden realization that my favorite baseball movie of all time is so Mulder-coded, that it would 100% be his favorite move too, full stop. And thus this was born. It seems all my X-Files fanfics are going to be accidents, none of them planned.

Read on AO3

She should have known this was coming eventually.

The well-worn VHS had been sitting on the coffee table for the last two weeks, in the living room of their new, unremarkable house.

Kevin Costner. James Earl Jones. Ray Liotta. Baseball and dreams and ghosts and time travel and the healing of broken father-son relationships...

It was his favorite movie, but for reasons so personal to him that he never spoke of it, instead claiming that Caddyshack or Plan 9 from Outer Space was his top pick if anyone asked. She'd never even known he had it until she woke one night to find him downstairs watching it alone in the dark, his face lit up by the flickering images on the screen. He said nothing, but allowed her to sink into the cushions of their shared couch beside him, curling into his side. They watched it together in silence. No words needed to be said, after all. She knew him well enough to understand what this movie meant to him. As the credits rolled, he flicked the TV off and the living room of their creaky house was enveloped in darkness once again.

He'd been lonely here at home. He tried not to let it show, but she knew anyway. It was only recently that they'd finally been able to settle down, purchase a house out in the middle of nowhere while she put her medical degree to good use. But while she was away, he was left alone with his thoughts for hours at a time, nothing but the peaceable silence of the Virginia countryside to keep him company.

There were certainly signs she should have picked up on. Dirt under his fingernails. A splotch of grease on the corner of his sleeve. The smell of gasoline on his hands when she came home from work and was welcomed with a kiss.

He wasn't sitting idly in his office all day, that much she knew.

But it wasn't your run-of-the-mill yard work he was busy with, either.

He seemed happier. She tried not to question it. For the first time since they'd moved in, he seemed more like himself, and she saw a future where they could be happy here, establishing a comfortable routine and finally getting started on living a somewhat normal life.

She came home one day to find Mulder a couple hundred feet from the house, wrestling an overgrown chain link fence with his chosen weapon of a pair of bolt cutters. He waved at her with a smile, and she felt her heart flutter. She wouldn't ask what he was up to, not yet. When he was ready, he'd let her in on his secret.

A week later, he was in the small shed behind the house, drenched in sweat but seemingly gratified at the work he was doing cutting wood planks with a hand saw and sanding them down to perfection.

Some days he wasn't even there when she pulled into the driveway, and though she missed the way he would run up to her like a puppy to welcome her home, she was glad he'd found something to pass the time that made him happy. She secretly appreciated the flush of color on his face and sweat stains on his t-shirts when he finally made his way back to the house in time for dinner, bounding up the stairs for a quick shower before joining her at the table. It was a side to him she didn't see often before, what with his white-collar job and Armani suits. He'd even acquired a thin layer of facial hair in recent days, having forgotten to shave, and she couldn't bring herself to be mad at his new rugged, manly look. In fact, she quite enjoyed it.

Scully was napping on the couch, exhausted from another long day of work, when she felt a hand on her shoulder shaking her awake.

"Scully, wake up," a soft voice spoke, "I wanna show you something."

"What's that?" she slurred, her eyes blinking open blearily. His hands cupped hers and pulled her to her feet, steadying her on her wobbly, half-asleep legs.

"Come on," he said, and he tugged her toward their back porch door.

The first wisps of crisp fall air danced across her face as she stepped into the backyard, following Mulder with her hand clasped comfortably in his.

"Where are we going, Mulder?" she finally asked. They'd passed the boundary of what she traditionally thought of as their backyard, and were now traveling down a trail through the tall, wild grass that filled their sprawling property.

"You'll see," was all he said, but she saw the gleam of enjoyment in his eye and the way the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

The sun had begun its retreat to the horizon, the longer days of summer beginning to fade into the shorter ones of autumn. The sky around them was painted in vivid oranges, yellows, and pinks, the aftermath of a brief storm that had passed through. The earthy, fresh scent of the air filled her lungs, and she was once again in awe of the peace they'd finally been able to find, after all they had been through together. She squeezed his hand tighter.

As they came up over the hill, she saw it.

Freshly turned dirt, darkened with moisture from the rain, in the shape of a diamond. The grass was mown short, weeds removed until it perfectly mirrored the well-manicured outfield of any respectable baseball stadium. There were wooden benches on each side of the field, set up in raised tiers so that hypothetical onlookers could see above the heads of those in front of them. And the chain link fence had been modified and built into a decent impression of a backstop behind home plate, which appeared to be made of a burlap bag of sand. Beyond the outfield, the wild grasses and flowers grew up tall, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Scully felt a tear slip from her eye, and she quickly lifted a finger to wipe it away.

"Did a ghost tell you to build this, Mulder?" she asked, the hitch in her voice betraying the emotions that laced her joke.

He smiled and pulled her into his side. She hadn't noticed the baseball jersey he wore before, but it brought back fond memories.

"Yeah, actually, but it turns out the Lone Gunmen don't have an ounce of athletic skill to spare, so it got boring pretty quick."

She let out a watery laugh, wiping more forcefully at the moisture on her cheeks before turning back to him.

"Well, are you gonna show me around?"

He grinned and took off, walking backwards toward the field with a spring in his step. As they approached the field, this field that he had built, he paused to grab something out of a dirt-encrusted wheelbarrow that sat adjacent to the tall grass. From behind his back, he produced a baseball glove and a wooden bat, offering both to her.

"You pitching or batting first, Scully?" he asked, the fire of purpose, of passion in his eyes for the first time in a long time.

She smiled and grabbed the bat, which he used to drag her giggling toward the field.

"Up to bat first is Shoeless Dana Scully, coming out of retirement after 5 years for the opening game at this unremarkable field!" Mulder narrated, the playful tone of his voice sending her back in time. She dragged her feet exaggeratedly to home plate, lifting the bat above her shoulders as Mulder took his place on the pitcher’s mound.

"Fire away, poor boy," Scully called, earning a flashing smile from the man with the glove. She had thought that somewhere along the way, between dingy motel rooms and nights spent sleeping in their car, he had lost that boyish look he sometimes had. But there it was, that carefree, life-loving look of wonderment that had only made her fall deeper in love. Her stomach did a flip.

Mulder drew back in a windup before firing a fastball right over the plate. It whooshed past, clanging into the rattling chain link fence before Scully could even blink.

"What was that, Mulder?" Scully protested, raising her palms to the air in question.

Mulder laughed, kicking the dirt with his dirty sneakers before looking back up at her.

"I know your secret, Dana Scully," he said, mischief glinting in his eye. "You were on your brother's little league team as a kid. I found the pictures in that album you keep hidden in the closet."

Scully's jaw dropped and she let out a laugh.

"You've been holding out on me, slugger."

"Well, that was a long time ago," she reasoned, doing an impressive job of hiding the fact that she was guilty as sin.

"Uh huh, I'm sure," he nodded, tossing the ball a couple times in his right hand. "Let's see what you got, babe."

An eyebrow raise.

"Like Babe Ruth."

She rolled her eyes.

Accepting her fate, Scully got in her batting stance and prepared to hit the ball. He whipped one at her, and she made contact with a satisfying crack! sending the ball soaring into the outfield.

Mulder nodded his head up and down, doing a circle around the pitchers mound as he cracked a sunflower seed between his teeth. "Yep, that's what I thought. So you mean to tell me all these years I could have been talking baseball stats with you? Scully, who's your favorite team?"

Scully rolled her eyes and dug the end of the bat in the ground, tracing shapes in the dirt. "I never actually liked baseball, Mulder, I only played cause I refused to let Bill do anything without me."

"Are you hiding any other spectacular skills I should know about? Do I need to build a magical basketball court next?"

"Magical, Mulder?" she said, raising a familiar skeptical eyebrow in his direction.

He shrugged and gestured around him. "What? This feels pretty magical to me," he answered with a wink, all that natural charm he possessed coming out in full force.

She shook her head, laughing softly at this side of him that she had missed.

"I think it's safe to say I'm not hiding any basketball skills," she spoke, gesturing at her 5'3" form.

Mulder reached down to grab another ball from the bucket beside him, idly passing it between his bare hand and his glove.

"Good, because this was a lot of work."

Dusk slowly turned into night, the cool air turning cold as they took turns batting and pitching, until they'd exhausted their stash of baseballs. They'd be lost to the darkened fields until the morning, when the sun would again illuminate the landscape.

As Mulder led her back to the house, flashlight lighting the way before them, the words from the movie echoed in her ears, as if from a disembodied voice. "Ease his pain."

She wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. His hand moved in small circles on her lower back, warming her against the chill that had settled in.

Whatever regrets they had, whatever dreams were broken beyond repair, they had this. They had each other. And even if this is how things always would be, nothing more than the two of them and this unremarkable house, she would be happy. And so would he.

"Is this heaven, Mulder?" she asked, her voice soft and pensive.

Mulder smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I think it just might be."

------

Anyway, the only way Field of Dreams could be more Mulder is if an alien showed up in it. I mean, it has ghosts, time travel, baseball, and difficult father-son relationships. What more could you want? Go watch it if you haven't. Even if you're not a baseball fan. The end literally makes me weep every time.

Now what are you still doing here, go watch the movie!

Tagging: @today-in-fic @randomfoggytiger @cutemothman

[deathsbestgirl]

you guys. (tags from this post) yes!! like. so much of scully's journey in the x files is about accepting & embracing (and figuring out) what she wants.

scully follows mulder because of his belief & stubbornness & determination. in the jersey devil she tells him "unlike you mulder, i would like to have a life" — but when the guy calls for a second date, she declines & follows mulder. his "i have a life" ringing in her ears.

in the field where i died, she tells him she wouldn't change a day. in all things, she tells daniel she wants everything she should at this point in her life. and at the end, she's sitting on mulder's couch (had been chasing him the whole time he was gone) telling him about her vision. waxing poetic about "what if there was only one choice and there were signs to pay attention to along the way." season six is all about them figuring out how a relationship could work, creating the blueprint that wasn't given to them. season seven is all about doing it, and for scully jumping that last hurdle of what she's supposed to want vs what she chose in all things. in the truth, she tells him she would do all again. if he won't give up, then why would she?

i very much believe scully did want "normal life" things but she only wanted them with mulder and that means fitting into the life they chose, and all the curve balls that comes with. it's why she goes on the run with him, why they have the unremarkable house in iwtb, why she returns to the x files. it took her time to get back to that point, but scully loves her job. there's a difference for her, what she feels capable of, of what it means to go back after everything.

'you're really enjoying yourself, aren't you scully?'

'yeah i am. i forgot how fun these cases could be.'

this might be more headcanon than canon, but i sincerely think the x files was her dream job. she loves science, she does believe ("believing is easy" and "i'm afraid to believe") and getting the chance to see things no one else does, to prove & explain them?? dream job. for nerdy, adrenaline junkie dana katherine scully.

@baronessblixen @thursdayinspace @bakedbakermom @ellivia @actual-changeling