#scully and mulder i love you… i mean i love scully more but still

[zeraphias]

this has been my experience with the xfiles so far

[gregmarriage]

x files 1x08 ‘ice’ was so fucking funny for having mulder make a joke about the size of his dick in front of two other men, and scully touch a woman’s chest as part of a medical exam, then immediately share a lesbian look with her, that has nothing to do with said medical exam

[highprofilerichkid]

OFMDs, while I find your pathetic clownery to be even more intolerable than the rank vitriol of my Stucky fandom nemeses, I have to put my personal aggravation aside to offer you, along with my MSR besties, my most sincere congratulations on achieving what is objectively the funniest possible outcome for this round. You eliminated THE top two unquestioned juggernaut patron ships of this entire cursed website in their first matchups, and I honestly couldn't have asked for a better outcome. I cannot stand those fucking pirates but god bless. Love and peace on planet Tumblr ✌️

AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 2 Side 1

This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[thisisbeefjerky]

FUCK MAN. This is spoilers for x files fight the future if you don’t wanna see that, but I’m right in the middle of it and I’m freaking out and I need to rant about this

Ok so don’t get me wrong, I knew about the almost kiss in Fight the Future. Hell I’ve seen the clip of the outtake, the actual kiss (give it up for the 2 hottest people on the planet deciding to gift us with that take), but Nobody prepared me for what happens in the actual scene

First of all the dialogue before it, where he’s chasing her down begging her not to leave because he can’t do this without her, and it’s desperate but it’s not dramatic, it’s just true. He can’t he doesn’t want to do this without her because they complete each other. Every time she’s gone he’s just untethered, and he admits this to her but he can’t tell her why, he can’t bring himself to tell her that he loves her

AND THEN It’s only when she initiates an intimate act of the hug that he feels safe enough to take the next step, because he’s terrified, I just know his heart is pounding leading up to that move, he is just lost in her and you can Tell, and it Hurts to watch because you can tell they’re feeling so strongly

And Scully just seems like she’s completely awash in emotion, I can’t credit enough dd and ga’s performances in this because Gosh the complexity of emotion in her face, there’s the doubt, there’s the grief at potentially losing him, and the guilt of it possibly being by her own hand, there’s the fear of staying behind and holding him back, there’s the fear of being too close and not being good for him.

I mean she has the Gall to suggest that she’s never done anything to help Mulder since they met, she seems to really believe it too or she wouldn’t have made the choice to resign in the first place, and it seems like the reason she starts crying at all is the idea, made explicit and impossible to dismiss, that he wants her and needs her, and when she has that confirmed she just melts into him, and like. ow.

But what kills me the most about this scene that’s different from the outtake clip is his reaction to her jerking away. Because she gasps in pain and surprise and swerves her face away from him, and he has no idea why, and all he can think is Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’ve ruined everything.

I mean you can see it, his face just falls, his eyes close, his head tilts back and he’s visibly berating himself internally, he just whispers “I’m sorry.” With a voice more filled with sorrow than you’ve ever heard out of a man who’s almost been kissed and is holding the love of his life in his arms. He’s so scared to have ruined everything they’ve built.

And you can tell with that whispered apology that he’s thought about this. It’s not the first time by a long shot that he’s considered kissing her. In his mind he’s made a mistake, a slip up. He finally lets himself go enough to try, and she seems to reject him at the last moment, and all he can think is that it must be his fault. She must not want him that way. He apologizes before he even knows what’s going on because he’s ready to respect her wishes at the drop of a hat.

Then Scully turns to him, wanting to explain right away “it’s not you, I got hurt” and he responds perfectly adequately. With compassion, comforting her immediately with his words and his hands. But while he does this his mind is visibly completely detached. He’s gone from anticipatory terror to crushing fear and disappointment to relief and nervousness in the space of about four seconds, and he’s just standing there still trying to process what just happened, holding on to her physically for a source of stability.

And he doesn’t even get the chance to regain his footing, because before he knows it she’s losing consciousness and telling him in exact medical terms exactly what’s wrong because she’s a queen and a badass and a genius and I’m so sorry this is happening to you girl

And then of course she almost dies and he gets shot in the face so….. yeah

Basically! All this to say I’m completely normal about them and about this and nothing at all of note happens in these scenes

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: wrapped with a bow

@laurencem told me to write Mulder gift-wrapping Scully as his own birthday gift, and I really had nothing else to do tonight. So this is for you, Yeti! You ask, I ignore the state of my apartment and write fic. (I mean, does it really matter whether I clean the bathroom now or tomorrow morning?) This is just a quick little thing, but writing them being silly is so much fun. tagging @today-in-fic

“Scully?” he says, panting and boneless, “Scully? Come up here.”

She lifts her head where she’s kneeling between his legs and wipes her mouth. “Huh?”

“Come up here.” He waves at her limply, his arms heavy, heart still hammering hard in his chest. Are you ready for your first birthday present of the day? she’d asked, slipping between his legs and sucking him off until he was seeing stars. He’d thought he was ready. But good god, he’s amazed she didn’t transport him straight to the afterlife. In fact, he’s not quite sure that this isn’t the afterlife. And if it is… He squeezes his eyes closed. Holy fucking shit, what a way to go.

She stretches out next to him and he brings up a hand to her face to wipe a last drop of his come from the corner of her mouth. She looks so very pleased with herself and she has every reason. He’ll buy her a trophy. He’ll learn to cross-stitch and make her a little thing to hang up above her side of the bed: Dana Katherine Scully, Birthday Blowjob World Champion.

“So you liked your present?” She grins at him, her lips red and swollen, and he grins back at her.

“I did. I loved it.”

“Good.”

“Better than good.” He puts his arms around her as she rests her head against his shoulder. She cuddles up close to him and if they’d be doing nothing but this for the rest of the day, he would be more than okay with that. But as his heart rate returns to normal and he regains the ability to formulate thoughts beyond ‘Oh dear lord yes’ and ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again,’ he realizes what would make the morning even better. “Hey Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering…”

“What?”

“Is it too late for one more last-minute birthday wish?”

She frowns, propping herself up on one elbow next to him. “That depends entirely on what it is. You know I’ll let you talk me into anything against my better judgment four times out of five, but I’m not going Bigfoot-hunting with you today. The rain’s really coming down out there.”

“Oh, it’s very much an indoor activity,” he promises. “Well, not that it doesn’t work outside. I mean, we have done it outside. And that was pretty fun, actually. But it’s definitely mostly an indoor thing, and I think maybe you could even consider it a gift for both of us, if you think about it. I know you enjoy it too. I was actually planning to give it to you for your birthday in a few months, but that’s the good thing about it, really. It can be gifted over and over, and—”

“Mulder!”

“Yes?”

“You have to—” she starts, and then squeaks as he rolls her over and tackles her to the mattress.

“I’ll even wrap it myself.”

She laughs. “Mulder,” she says again and wiggles underneath him, not really trying to get free. “Mulder, stop it.”

She giggles uncontrollably as he tugs at the bedsheets with one hand and wrestles her underneath. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m usually better at gift wrapping.”

“You’re crazy,” she gasps as he rolls her into a tight blanket burrito so her arms are pinned to her sides. “You’re completely crazy.”

“You love me.”

“I guess there’s not much point in denying that anymore,” she mumbles, face half smushed into the pillow as she’s lying immobilized on her belly, wrapped up nice and tight.

He kneels next to her and tilts his head pensively as he takes in the picture. “Something is missing.”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to blow at a strand of hair that’s clinging to her cheek. “Your sanity.”

“No, that’s not it.” He brushes the offending strand of hair behind her ear, then holds up a finger. “I know. Hold on. Stay just like this and don’t move.”

“Oh, haha, very funny.” She does her best to sound annoyed, but he can see the sparkling in her eyes as he climbs off the bed.

He searches the floor, their clothes in a trail from door to bed where they hastily discarded them last night, and finally picks up his sweater. He jumps back onto the bed, landing on his knees, making her bounce a few inches on the mattress.

“You’re in so much trouble,” she says. “Once I get out of here. So much trouble.”

“It’s my birthday.” He says. “You can’t be mad at me on my birthday.”

She sighs. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

With a triumphant grin, he slides the sweater under her head and ties the sleeves neatly over her forehead. “There.”

“What on earth…?” she asks.

“Every nicely wrapped present needs a bow.”

“You’re not normal, Mulder.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose. Are you going to unwrap me now?”

He runs a hand over the blanket from her shoulder to her thigh. “Hey, no card?” he asks, doing his best to sound upset. “Where’s the card?”

“Mulder, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay.” He leans down for a kiss and feels her smiling into it. “I guess I’m ready for my present.”

“I think your present is ready for you too.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to unwrap you or is there something else you had in mind?”

The look she gives him is the one that makes him do whatever she commands without a second thought. “At this point? There’d better be a ‘something else’ after the unwrapping.”

She’s trying so hard to look angry with him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Oh, as often as you want,” he promises. “I swear. Part-time-Bigfoot-hunter’s honor!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says dryly.

He unrolls her slowly and carefully, and feels actually, seriously, honest-to-god excited. He feels giddy as he finally pulls the covers off her and watches her lying here, glaring up at him. She’s so beautiful he can barely breathe. “Scully?”

“What now?”

“This is a really good birthday so far.”

“I’m sure it could be even better,” she says, and he kisses her. First her lips. Then the rest of her.

As he lowers his head between her thighs and finally gets his mouth on her, he’s already getting hard again—not surprising, he thinks. Nothing is hotter than getting her off. He lets himself drown in the smell and taste of her, and then she gives him his real present as she arches off the mattress and comes with a cry that makes him happier than any Happy Birthday anyone has ever sung to him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at her, taking in her flushed face, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes heavily through the aftershocks. “Thank you for my present.”

“Oh god.” She lets her head fall back with a long exhale. “You’re welcome.”

“And I really liked my birthday breakfast.”

She starts laughing and he crawls up the bed, looking at her, high on love and happiness.

“You know, I liked mine too and it’s not even my birthday,” she tells him, then sighs deeply. “There was no coffee though.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll have a second breakfast.”

“We can have breakfast as many times as you like,” she promises, and he lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms.

She’s his real gift, he knows it down to his bones. More than he deserves. But she tells him she loves him and he’s always been a believer, so he’ll believe this too. And give her as many gifts in return as she wants, whenever she wants. Anything he has to give. It’s all hers already.

[actual-changeling]

I know a lot of people interpret Scully's reaction to Mulder's love confession in 'Triangle' as her assuming that he is drugged up and talking nonsense.

There is another (worse) option, though.

"Oh brother" is definitely not what you respond if you're taking it seriously, we can probably agree on that, but i don't think potential drugs are the reasons here.

Let's look back a little. I'm working with the assumption that 'Folie a Deux' is set in May of 1998 with FtF taking place in August. 'The Beginning' happens sometime in September of the same year. If we use this as our timeline, we have a total of around five months during which a LOT of shit happens.

'Folie a Deux' is important because this is the "original" drugged up love confession Scully hears when Mulder is in the psychward. It gets to her, she thinks he is being genuine and does what he asked her to do.

More important than the act itself is what he tells her. I assume most of us have that conversation memorized, but just as a reminder:

"Scully, you have to believe me. Nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. You're my one in five billion."

Even from our point of view, this makes complete sense—she IS the only one he trusts.

Except that it's a lie. I don't expect Mulder to think of Diana in that moment, and it wouldn't have been an issue at all if it weren't for the events of 'The End', which happen about 2-3 weeks later.

Suddenly, there is a person from his past that he trusts unconditionally to the point of stupidity, and he not only doesn't talk to Scully about any of it, he stops talking to her period. It's as if she has been a placeholder for Diana, and now that she's back, there is no use for her anymore.

Mulder works the case with Diana, Scully is dragging herself along and he does not care about her or her work until it is useful for him; he doesn't back her up when a room full of people (including Diana) belittle and mock her. He nods along, which, to Scully, is just the last puzzle piece slotting into place.

To summarize, Mulder's confession in Folie a Deux that she took seriously is revealed to be a lie—a means to an end to get her to do what he wants her to. Whether or not that's objectively true is a totally different matter because this is what Scully is confronted with.

Betrayal.

With that in mind, their argument in FtF in his hallway and Scully thinking of herself as redundant makes complete sense. We get yet another love confession, one she ALSO takes seriously, and if it weren't for that fucking bee, they'd have kissed. Maybe then, the whole mess that comes after could have been avoided, but here we are.

In "The Beginning", Scully repeats said confession back to him in an attempt to calm him and regain his trust in her/her science. Let's see what happens:

He implicitly tells her that none of what he confessed still applies, that the whole speech was, once again, nothing but a farce to get her to stay. Mulder confirms this at the end of the episode, and Scully asking him with tears in her eyes to trust her is a deeply painful contrast to his earlier declarations.

Two times, Mulder confesses his love to her.

Two times, he takes it back later and continues to use it against her.

In 'Triangle', Scully once again finds herself next to Mulder in a hospital bed and listens to him as he confesses his love for a third time. Does she think he's drugged up? Yeah, probably, but that's not the reason she cannot take him seriously.

Considering her track record with Mulder and big speeches, is it at all surprising that she no longer trusts what he tells her?

"Oh, brother," because she is forced to grapple with her many, many feelings for him and process it in a way that fits into everything else that has happened so far.

"Oh, brother," because it might be an attempt to placate her and nothing else.

"Oh, brother," because there is a chance he will twist his 'I love you' into a weapon to stab her with later. Because he says it and does not mean it.

This is not a "oh, he's drugged up" expression to me. This is Scully preparing to get hurt again.

The funniest part is that she's right. She is right. He couldn't have meant it because then he wouldn't be staring her down with apathy in his eyes and tell her not to make it "personal".

SHE is making it personal? After Mulder manipulated her by pulling on their connection like a leash to get her to do what he wants? After he confessed how much he loves and trusts her over and over just to throw it all away?

To ignore all of it in the moment it actually fucking matters?

The drug option is less angsty and kinda fun, and I do enjoy reading fics that interpret it as such, but with their history attached, it is so much more—and so much worse.

Pretending it never happened is one thing, but then actively denying it to her face and using her feelings to hurt her? Yeah, no.

Mulder fucked up and Scully has every right to reject his declarations and distance herself from him.

[spirits-n-giggles]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice HOT take:

Where are all my monster fuckers at?!?!?!

Who knew Betlegeuse had a heart? I mean yeah he tried to contract Lydia to marry him AGAIN, but the only deal they had was to save her daughter. He didn't have to bring Delia back for a goodbye, he didn't have to make Rory tell the truth, and.... HE was the one to have her sign the contract, but still broke the contract rules to help her out? Hmmmm....

Sure we can assume he's just connonically stupid and didn't bother to read the fine print - he didn't exactly have the most smarts when he was alive so take with that what you will. (EDIT: But I absolutely would argue that Betelgeuse has been burned at least once before when not reading the fine print on a marriage contract and I can see him rigorously knowing every single word in the one he made for Lydia since he's clearly had a thing for her for some time.)

Oh yeah, he's definitely the same sleazy, horny, rotted nasty ass as before, but now he's Lydia's sleazy, horny, rotted nasty ass, and I'm here for it!! 🖤💚 If you ask me, this movie was the start of their actual terribly beautiful relationship (give or take the musical and the TV show lol they can all fit together if we really wanted them to. It's called having an imagination.)

Plus, I love me a good old-fashioned contractual marriage plot. I might have seen one too many k-dramas but those are always the most fun and cononically, I see Lydia and Betlegeuse as more of a partnership marriage anyway where she uses her power to solve whodunit mysteries in the living world or some shit, and she works with BJ to get shit done - like the cartoon 90s show. I see it as a Scully and Mulder situation where - Lydia does actually love BJ (and even be into him), but she will never admit it.... until later. Now I just need a good slow burn.

Honestly, cononically she's most likely gonna die and they're gonna get together in the afterlife and no one can tell me otherwise!

There are definitely antis for this couple isn't there? Aaahhh~~ yes, I can smell their cheeto-covered fingers and day-old red bull breath as we speak. 🤌 (EDIT: I'm fine if you don't ship them, just please don't be a dick to me about my ship. :D)

[sgiandubh]

Idk about anyone else but it’s interesting to me that a con for Outlander is doing the same thing that Creation Entertainment does with the two leads of Supernatural, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. Any other cast member that attends the con as a guest with them has more reasonable prices for photo ops and Q&As and such, but it’s half my mortgage for one (1) person to meet Jared or Jensen?? (Keyword OR, as you have to pay twice to see them both if they’re not together {called the J2 Panel} and my mortgage is ~$2300) yikes. I’ve always suspected these convention companies are just capitalizing on the respective actor’s name, no matter how niche said actor is. I love Jared and Jensen as much as I love Sam, I still keep up with them despite my torrential time in the SPN fandom, but once again I’m grateful I prefer to admire these wonderful talented men from afar because my bank account would be yelling at me otherwise 😅😅

Dear @samsheughan,

Unlike you, this is the first (and certainly last, thanks) fandom experience for me. Paying 25 francs (5 USD) circa 1996 for a laminated, fake FBI agent ID with my photo and name, on behalf of the French X-Files fan club does not count, ahem. Suffice to say this folly just made my entourage laugh like drains (I was a sophomore, back then, mind you) and call me Agent Sgian-dubh for about a year and a half, or so. Embarrassing doesn't even start to describe the reality of it. Especially when you are 18, you think you are Simone de Beauvoir - at a bare minimum-, as you smoke your cigarette and sip your allongé while desperately trying to look intelligent, outside Le Café de Flore.

How we were happy, back then, and in what uncomplicated world we used to live, though! Without any fan events and forced to go to the nearest Internet cafe for the slightest Altavista research, that naive fanzine I received every month by snail mail quickly grew old, as my patience for the 'Agent Sgian-dubh' gleeful quip. Interestingly enough, I still must have that fake ID, somewhere. Last time I saw it, in one of my old wallets, my mother looked mildly interested ('and what the fuck is this, excuse me? an X-Files fan club ID? oh...'), but that entire experience was definitely underwhelming. Even if I secretly did ship Mulder & Scully, without having any idea that was a thing. Too ashamed to admit to it, for all of the above mentioned reasons.

Alas, today is just another planet, where cheap thrills and a pat on the back do cost half a mortgage. As a Romanian saying would have it, 'the stupid one is not the one who's asking, the stupid is the one who's paying'. In S's case, I think the mommies were and will be his demise, if he doesn't quickly get the gist of it and branches out, somehow. I mean, come on, with all due respect and all that #silly interest, this is JAMMF we're talking about, not Lang Lang, tickets to whose concerts don't cost one kidney and a half!

I don't even find it funny, mind you. I find it sad, perhaps because I am thinking about the day this entire circus will be over and done with and completely forgotten. But until then, let's sing and be merry: with one more season to air, the #shitshow is still alive and kicking and the fat lady is nowhere near.

[azure-firecracker]

I, like most people I’m sure, spent most of Small Potatoes laughing hysterically, but the more I think about it, the sadder the climactic scene makes me.

(And yes, I do think Scully knew something was up even though she may not have been sure what. You can see that she’s not leaning back into that kiss at all).

But I just feel so much for Scully in this scene. Because yes, she gave up on having a “normal” life ages ago. We know she’s drawn to the strangeness and charm of Mulder’s quest, maybe more than she’s willing to admit, and that she’s willing to sacrifice normality and conventions for that. But I don’t think that means she doesn’t want normality.

Mulder, I think, is someone who would be content if he never did anything other than search for aliens. And I think Scully would be content that way too, but I also think there’s a small part of her that wants to go on dates and drink wine and make scrapbooks and exist away from the danger where things are easy. And she knows Mulder can’t give her that, that the odd and dangerous is an intrinsic part of him, but still she wishes for balance.

(Fanfic does a great job of giving them more normal moments. In fact, it does such a great job that I forget how few there are in the show. But Eddie was right - they usually don’t talk. They’re connected more deeply than maybe anyone else could be. But they don’t talk).

The inherent tragedy of Mulder and Scully’s relationship is that Scully wants to be seen and valued, and though Mulder does see and value her above all else, he doesn’t show it in a way she always understands. She thinks she’ll always play second fiddle to his quest, and doesn’t see the moments where he reveals he’d throw the whole thing away for her sake. He runs off without her time and time again, and she’s left to pick up the pieces and do the less glamorous parts of the job, without seeing the lengths he goes to to keep her out of danger.

Scully is such a closed-off person that she wants to just exist comfortably and without fear and feel like she’s important. And though Mulder gives her that in some ways, it’s never quite in the ways she understands. She doesn’t know how much she means to him - I think that’s pretty evident.

And now she’s dying. The job she sacrificed all hope of normalcy, of being seen and valued exactly how she wants to be, for, is slowly killing her. And here comes someone she thinks is Mulder, wine in hand. And he finally gives her what she’s been craving - a shred of normalcy. A space she can be herself, be seen, be loved without everything being tied up in desperation and danger and fear.

It’s everything she wanted from Mulder that he couldn’t give her.

But it was all a lie.

[numinousmysteries]

@poangsecretsanta

[on Ao3]

Vrooom, vrooom, let's basketball! For the delightful @xf-cases-solved aka diz who loves Milagro:

Agent Scully is already in love .

The words taunt him as she digs her nails into his back. She's crying hot tears onto the shoulder of his sweater and clinging to him like a life raft in a storm. He tries to focus on the thumping of her heart against his chest, the frantic breaths she gasps into his ear—signs that she’s alive, that he hasn’t lost her—but he can’t get Padgett’s words out of his mind. 

Padgett's a liar and a murderer, he tells himself. The guy would say anything to get a rise out of him. 

But he loves her. He's known for years although he doesn't know how to admit that to her, or even to herself. The possibility that she could feel the same way is too overwhelming to even consider. And the potential consequences too enormous. 

The paramedics arrive and give her a preliminary exam on his living room couch. Despite the volume of blood on her clothing, there doesn't seem to be an entry or exit wound and her vitals are normal. They offer a ride to the hospital just to be safe, but she declines.

"Alright," one of them says, slightly baffled. "Well, don't hesitate to call us again or come into the ER if your condition changes."

“Yes,” she says, her voice firm, the Dr. Dana Scully tone she uses for the rest of the world. For everyone except him. 

He shows them to the door. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks her once they're alone.

"Yeah, I think so," she says softly.

"Why don't I get you a change of clothes? Or, do you want to take a shower?"

"I-I'm not sure," she says and he realizes she's shaking.

"Oh Scully, come here," he says, taking a seat next to her on the couch and opening his arms to her.

Her lower lip trembles as she closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her and rubs soothing circles on her back. Her blood stains his sweater, marking him. 

"It's okay," he says. He leans down to kiss the crown of her head. It's warm and damp with sweat. She smells like fear. 

He hears her sniffling and trying to catch her breath. After a few moments of sobbing, her breathing slows down and becomes more measured. He feels her pulling back and he releases her from his embrace. 

"I'm sorry," she says. "I should go."

"Hey, wait, Scully," he says, grabbing her onto her wrist to keep her from rising from the couch. "You don't have to go just yet. I don't know if you should be driving like this."

"I'm fine," she says, although her warbling voice betrays her vulnerability.

"If you think I care about anything he wrote in that book—"

"Oh, Mulder, stop," she protests, but he continues.

"He didn’t know you at all. It was just the fantasies of a mad, lonely man."

"That's the thing," she sighs. "I think he did know me. Some of that was eerily accurate. It was almost like he was profiling me. I felt so exposed."

"But not all of it, obviously," he says.

"You mean, that I’m not in love?” 

He pauses, frozen in his tracks. He meant the part about her sleeping with Padgett. He wasn't expecting they'd actually discuss that part. 

"Scully, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it."

She sucks in her top lip and bows her head, tears still wet on her face.

"What would that mean?" She asks. "I mean, to you? What would it mean to you if I were in love?"

He's confused, tiptoeing carefully around her question. "Well, I'd buy the lucky guy a beer to congratulate him. Let him know he's in for a lifetime of being second-guessed. But also that I'm damn jealous of him for getting to spend it with you."

A soft laugh catches in her throat and turns into a cough. "Mulder," she starts, looking down at her hands in her lap. "You know there's no one else...in my life."

"No one else besides..?"

She sighs again, this time more in frustration, and looks up at him with wet, blue eyes. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"I don't want to assume anything. But if you were to say you were in love with me, I'd assure you that there's nothing in the world that would make me happier. And that the feeling is more than mutual." 

She stares at him in stunned silence and he immediately wants to take his words back. Not because they aren’t true, but because he isn’t sure he’s ready to face their implications. 

“Shit, Scully, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re in shock.”

“No,” she says quietly but resolutely, bringing a small palm to the center of his chest. Her touch feels firm. “I feel the same way. I have for a long time.”

“I’m flattered, truly,” he stammers. “But it doesn’t have to change anything between us. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for Padgett and I don’t think we should give him that much power.”

He expects her to withdraw her hand but she doesn’t. With each fervent beat of his heart he feels the gentle but assured pressure of her touch. Not for the first time, he feels as if his heart will stop beating if she pulls away. 

“Can we really go back, though?” She asks, her eyes pleading. “To the way we were before?

He thinks, No, please, anything but that. He says, “Of course we can. We’ve made it through far worse.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to go back,” she says quickly, just barely above a whisper and he freezes. 

“Well, then.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It sounds strangled in his throat and he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing. Or the right thing. “Then maybe we don’t have to. What's stopping us?"

"I'm scared," she admits, with a furrow of the soft skin in between her eyebrows.

"I am, too," he says softly, stroking her back with one broad palm, feeling muscles easing underneath his hand.

She stares at him in puzzled amazement and he fears he's gone too far. But he sees her lips starting to part and they simultaneously lean in to meet in an impossibly soft, delicate kiss. It's sweet and sad and endearing. They're both scared to push the envelope so they barely move as their lips touch, as if just getting used to the sensation of touching in this way. It feels ancient and new at the same time. Like coming home while also jettisoning out of the earth’s orbit. 

She sucks in a sharp breath of air and pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, no," she says quickly. "Please don't apologize. I want this so badly, too, trust me. I just...I don't know what it will look like. How it will change things between us."

"I don't know either," he admits. "But I think it's worth a try."

He has all the same questions she has. Do they keep this a secret? Can they ever be seen in public as more than just coworkers? Can they sleep over each other's apartments? They've been followed and trailed and bugged before so they know any change in their normal activities would quickly get noticed by their enemies. Although, in light of recent events, it seems that the group of men who've been conspiring against them might be much smaller in numbers now.

"I don't know what this will look like," he reiterates. "But I don't think I could live without you."

She nods solemnly. "What if they use this as an opportunity to tear us apart?"

"Who? The bureau?" he asks. "I'd quit. I don't care. You're more important than all of this."

She pauses thoughtfully as his proclamation washes over her. He knows what he's saying and he means it. Six years ago he told her nothing else mattered beyond finding his sister. At the time it was true. But six years later, his priorities have shifted. He's been lied to and fucked over too many times to genuinely believe that the truth about his sister is knowable. And if it is, he'll only find it with Scully at his side.

He told her once that she made him a whole person and it's truer now more than ever. Losing her would be worse than losing a part of himself. 

"I want to try then," she says, embarking on this shift in their relationship with the same seriousness she applies to everything she does. Scully does not leap without looking. He felt hurt in the past when she had her one-night stand with Ed Jerse, confused how she could do something so rash and frankly, stupid, but he realized she was only able to act so quickly because it meant so little to her. When the stakes are high, she takes her time.

"Me too," he says.

She gives a little laugh out of overwhelm. "We're talking a lot about this for people who have just barely kissed."

He smiles, feeling love and warmth emanating off her. "Well, I plan to change that as soon as possible. Why don't we get you in the shower to clean off and take it from there? Only if you're, um, comfortable of course." He wants this so badly but he also doesn't know if he wants their first time to be marred by the brutality of this attack. 

"I think I'll be very comfortable with that," she says. "Will you join me in the shower?"

"Pull my leg.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and he remembers, It’s Scully . No matter how their relationship changes, they’ll still bicker and disagree and she’ll still give him that look. 

He stands up and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the bathroom. The water takes a moment to warm up so he twists the knob first before addressing their clothing. She's already discarded her jacket on the sofa when the paramedics were examining her, so he starts with slowly unbuttoning her bloodied blouse. He moves so slowly, wanting to memorize this moment. He wishes there wasn't any blood.

After each button, he looks up at her, silently asking for permission to keep going. Her pupils are big and glassy but she nods each time they make eye contact so he continues. Her skin is soft and unbroken underneath her shirt but still marked red with blood. Her skin goose-pimples from the cold so he pulls her into his chest before sliding the shirt off her shoulders. 

"I love you," he whispers into her hair. "You know that, right? I've loved you for so long."

She leans against his body and sniffles. 

"I know," she says, and he kisses the part in her scalp, the white skin where her red hair originates. "I love you, too.” 

He returns to undressing her, moving more quickly now as he's eager to get her into the warm shower. Once she's naked in front of him, he pauses for just a moment to admire her before quickly pulling off his sweater and t-shirt and stepping out of his jeans. Her intellect and integrity loom so large in his mind that he forgets how physically small she actually is. He can span her waist with two hands. He’s terrified of what a man with less noble intentions could do. 

They take the final step into the shower together. She gasps when the hot water hits her skin and he feels a jolt of panic before seeing her visually relax in front of him. She closes her eyes and tilts back her head. On the shower floor beneath them, the tide runs scarlet.

The water is hot but she's still shivering so he pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her, pushing his torso into hers. 

He imagines Padgett touching her like this, his leering gaze lingering on her skin as he skimmed his hands over her breasts, her waist, her hips. He grips her more forcefully imagining how much this stranger wanted to do this to her, but never will. Mine , he thinks to himself as he goes in for another deep kiss, his hands on her neck feeling her stubborn, insistent pulse. She perseveres.

"I want–" she says into his chest. She doesn't finish her sentence but he knows what she wants. He wants it, too.

He takes a step back, still with his arms around her but at a distance so they can meet each other's eyes.

"There's no going back after this," he says. "You know that, right?"

Even amid the running water he can see tears forming in her eyes.

"No going back," she promises. Her voice is firm, strong. It’s the voice he’s come to trust above all others.

He's kissing her again, this time without hesitation, searching furiously within her mouth with his tongue as his hands explore her body. He's hard, now, aching for her and he doesn't shy away when he feels her soft belly press against his erection.

The water is running clear now, all the blood rinsed off her skin. He reaches for the faucet handle, seeking approval in her eyes. She nods and he turns the water off. Without stepping out of the shower, he reaches for the nearest towel, wrapping it around her. She's shivering so he brushes his hands vigorously against the cloth, hoping to warm her up. He's still wet, naked in front of her but he doesn't care. There's only one towel on the rack. Why would there be another? He always thought he'd die alone here. It's been years since he knew she was it for him. Either she'd come around or she wouldn't and he'd have to be content with their friendship. But now she's here. Naked in his shower wrapped in his only towel.

"Just a second," he says. He pads out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints through to his bedroom where he finds an old threadbare towel in the closet. It smells vaguely mildewy but he doesn't care. He just needs to get himself sufficiently dry. He towels himself off then tosses it in the corner of the bathroom and returns to her.

"Cold?" He asks.

“A little, yeah.” 

He  embraces her once again, the towel she's clutching under her chin the only thing between them.

"Come get warm."

He guides her to his bed, pulling the sheet and coverlet over her, lifting her wet hair up on the pillow she lies on so it spreads out around her like a halo.

"You," she says.

He knows what she means. He slips under the covers to hold her against him. He's kissing her neck and whispering I love you, I love you, I love you into her collarbones when she stops shaking.

She snakes a hand between them and she feels her small, thin hand wrap around his cock. He gasps, involuntarily, the novelty of a touch that isn't his own for the first time in years is enough to set him off. The knowledge that it's Scully's hand is enough to make him cry.

"We don't have to...tonight," he says.

"I want to," she says.

"Well then I'm not going to argue with you," he says, smiling. She grins back at him and he feels the weight of the universe lifting off him. 

“That’s a first.” She grins. It’s a challenge and an invitation.  

He pushes himself up so he's on top of her, kissing her hard as she holds his rigid cock in her hand. Then, he starts working his way down her body, giving a little sigh when he's low enough that she has to release him. He wants this to last forever. He doesn't know if they'll have another chance. If she'll wake up in the morning and realize she was acting on fear and adrenaline and tell him this can never happen again. It's entirely possible, so he wants to savor every moment in case this is their only time. He wants to see her body respond in pleasure, instead of fear or pain.

She's already moaning by the time he makes his way to her navel. He tongues the concavity, then turns his head to face her gunshot wound. It's only a few months old, still dark and angry against her pale skin. He kisses that, too. 

Lower still, he gently parts her legs with his palms, pausing to glance up and lock eyes with her. He’s looking for a nod, a sign she wants him to keep going. She keeps her gaze steady on him, though, then opens up her legs further and wraps her calves around his back. 

He’s seen her naked before, but never like this. Never so open, so vulnerable and welcoming, and he knows how significant this is for her. For both of them. He presses a kiss on her mons, the soft hair still damp from the shower. He smells his own soap but underneath that, her . She tenses her thighs around him and lets out a little frustrated gasp that makes him smile to himself. 

He can’t deprive her what she wants. He gives her leg a squeeze, then licks her slowly, running his tongue from her opening up to the hood of her clit. That last part makes her gasp again and he focuses solely on her clit next, pursing his lips to suck while teasing her with his tongue. Just like he’s learned nearly everything there is to know about her over the years—when she’s truly angry at him or just needs a lame joke to break the tension; the way she licks her lip when she’s pondering a mystery—he takes the time to learn what she likes. She isn’t loud, but he seems to be expertly interpreting each of her little sounds as her body responds around him and she grinds her hips up to meet him. 

“Mulder—” she calls out and squeezes his shoulder.

He stops suddenly, panicking that he's done something wrong. She reads him easily, though, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Get up here,” she whispers.

He kisses his way back up her body until they’re face to face.

She takes the lead now, pulling his head down to meet hers and kissing him hungrily. He’s achingly hard against her and terrified he isn’t going to last long enough to make this memorable. 

“Can I?” He whispers into her, grinding against her like a teenager.

She answers by reaching down and guiding him inside her. She’s wet but so, so tight and he looks to her to make sure she isn’t in pain as he lowers himself down into her inch by inch. He’s trying to move slowly, fighting against every instinct in his body to plunge fully inside her. She takes him out of his misery by sliding her hands around to palm his ass and bring him closer to her. 

“You feel incredible,” he whispers into her ear.

He wants to remember every sensation—the warmth of her breath on his neck, the smell of her sweat, the grip of her inner walls around his dick. 

They start moving in unison, their bodies finding a rhythm that mirrors the intellectual volley they’ve established over the years. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he hears her moaning into his ear. Thankfully, it seems like she’s close because he doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

“Oh, Mulder,” she purrs as her orgasm ripples through her body. His name on her lips is enough to make him surrender, thrusting quicker and harder until he comes hard inside her. The scope of his universe is suddenly reduced to their bodies, tangled and intertwined on his bed. 

Coming down from his high, he rolls off of her. Without speaking, they turn to face each other. Burgeoning tears blur his vision. He blinks to see her more clearly and she wipes them off his cheekbones with her thumbs. 

“That was…” He pauses, struggling to find the words adequate to describe the immensity of his emotions.

“Perfect,” she finishes for him. 

Their lips meet and this time the kiss is languid and indulgent. Worn out from physical exertion and emotional exhaustion, they take their time. His fear that she’d immediately regret what they did and they’d have to go back to being partners evaporates. It’s not an ending. They’re evolving into something new. Just as they’ve gone from coworkers to friends, the road to this next level of their relationship, he knows, won’t always be smooth but will be more than worth the journey.

[mytardisisparked]

Shirts

Scully wakes up one morning to realize her usual shirts don't fit anymore.

Read on AO3.

She’s at Mulder’s apartment when she wakes up one morning and realizes that her blouse is way too tight to wear to work. The buttons at her middle are fit to pop and the whole thing is pulling until there are sizeable gaps between the strained buttons that show… well, everything.

With a sigh, she wrestles herself out of the shirt and silently bemoans the hubris that kept her from accepting her mother’s offer to help her shop for maternity clothes last weekend. She thought she had more time.

That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Always thinking we have more time…

She swallows hard and digs through her side of Mulder’s closet for a different blouse. Everything there is the same size as the one she just tried to put on. She considers, for a moment, just re-wearing her shirt from yesterday – Sunday – but it’s more casual than she would prefer, especially since she feels she has an image of professionalism to maintain in light of her increasingly-evident condition.

She hasn’t heard any of the rumors – she suspects she may have Agent Doggett to thank for that – but she knows they’re circulating. She’s seen the shared looks and not-so-subtle glances when she walks through the upstairs offices. Most of the bureau must know by now that she’s pregnant and have a solid idea of who the father is.

Her skin crawls to think of what people might say, not because she’s ashamed in any way, but because she knows that no one will ever understand the depth of her relationship with Mulder; no one can grasp exactly what he meant to her and what she meant to him. They will think of tawdry nights out on the road or locked doors in their downstairs office, rather than the encompassing love and comfort and friendship that lay between them. The rumors will make their relationship sound cheap and dirty when it was anything but. 

And then there are the people who will romanticize it, who will imagine her grief and try to sympathize when they have no real idea of how large the gaping hole in her heart is. They will never fully understand that Mulder had become her whole world, their lives entangled in a beautiful and painful and confusing way that even she isn’t sure how to define. She loved him, and still does, but they were so much more than just love. They were more than any simple word in this language or any other. The hollow sympathies and the cards and the flowers will mean nothing, if they ever come. They can never fully encapsulate who she and Mulder were, together.

And so, she isn’t sure what’s worse – the scorn or the pity. She’s glad she hasn’t heard any of it. She hopes she never does.

Her eyes slide from her own shirts to Mulder’s. There are a few missing; she has been slowly taking them out to sleep with, one by one, as Mulder’s cedar-y scent wears off. She grabs a light blue one and slides it over her arms and shoulders, starting to button it up. 

It fits. Not perfectly, but it lays over her stomach and breasts comfortably. The shoulders are a bit large and she will certainly have to roll the sleeves, but the fit reminds her, in a way, of the looser suits and blouses she wore when she was younger, when she first started working in the X-Files.

She stands in the mirror, taking in the shirt and her face and the bump at her waist that is becoming more and more apparent. The shirt might be reminiscent of her younger days, but the rest of her is not; there are dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks look more hollow than they ever have. Her mother would say she looks haggard, if Maggie Scully weren’t too kind to make any comment on her appearance at all, aside from the occasional “you look a bit tired, darling,” or “I think you’re starting to show, dear. I can tell if you turn just the right way.”

Scully sighs and rolls the sleeves, sliding her jacket over it. She turns in the mirror and decides that her appearance is acceptable.

When she arrives at work, she sees Agent Doggett do a subtle double-take at her outfit. He seems to consider it for a moment before turning back to his work without comment.

She lets out a breath as she sits at her desk and opens a file.

—

Despite her mother’s repeated offers to help her shop for maternity wear, Scully continues to wear Mulder’s shirts. She washes them in his washer and dryer, using his brand of detergent and dryer sheets in the hopes of making them smell more like him. It helps, she thinks. Maybe.

A kind coworker from the fingerprinting lab gifts her a couple of maternity shirts that she had purchased but never worn during her own pregnancy. Scully smiles and accepts them, but they never leave her closet.

The material of some of Mulder’s shirts is a bit stiff and scratchy. She wears them anyway, over a tee or a tank on the days when her skin feels too sensitive. 

Her stomach itches now from the stretching. At night, she sometimes imagines that it’s Mulder’s warm hands applying lotion to her abdomen instead of her own. She can almost feel his breath brushing her neck and tickling her hair if she closes her eyes.

Though she’s been able to feel the baby kicking on the inside for a bit now, the first time she can feel it from the outside is during one of the times she’s applying lotion. A tiny foot presses against her fingertips and she immediately falls apart, thinking of how excited Mulder would have been to feel that first kick.

She still uses lotion after that, but she refuses to think of Mulder while she applies it. She can’t.

She still wraps herself in his shirts every day.

Her mother stops offering to help her shop. Instead, she brings by a bottle of Mulder’s brand of detergent.

—

Eventually, Mulder’s shirts no longer fit.

She’s almost through her seventh month now, and his shirts fit almost as poorly as her own did the first day she started wearing them. 

On the weekends she wears his sweatshirts, which are still mostly loose. During the week days, she wears sweaters.

She calls her mom. They go shopping. It’s a quiet affair, but they come home with a good handful of pants, blouses, and casual shirts for just about any occasion.

She still wears his sweatshirts on the weekends, even as they grow tighter. The material is soft and the fabric still smells faintly of him. Something about it holds the scent longer, she thinks. Or, perhaps, it’s just her imagination –the ghost of a scent lingering around the Oxford lettering.

Who cares? It feels good. It feels better.

She’s never heard the office gossip, not even a whisper. She does hear Doggett snapping at a pair of agents in the 3rd floor breakroom once, not long after she starts wearing sweaters instead of Mulder’s button-ups, but she never finds out what they had said to invoke Doggett’s anger. She doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t say.

He brings her hot chocolate sometimes. And ginger tea for her stomach. She remembers one day, as he hands her a mug of cocoa with extra marshmallows, that John Doggett was a father once. She wonders if her own impending parenthood brings up any painful memories for him. If it does, he never gives even the slightest indication. Instead, he asks her things like how she’s feeling, how her checkup appointments go, and if she’s still craving green olives. (“I picked up a jar last night. In case of emergencies.”)

She takes the olives appreciatively and eats the whole jar in one sitting.

—

When Mulder returns, she gives back his shirts. He gives her a small smile and lets her help him rehang them in the closet next to hers. 

Things are a bit tense. He’s still not fully back, still feeling discombobulated from missing almost half a year of his life. Of her life. 

She can see the flashbacks in his eyes. He’s remembering things – slowly, painfully – from his abduction. He flinches at the sound of a saw from the construction site across from his apartment complex. He pulls away when a nurse tries to grab his wrist to check his pulse. He won’t lace his boots around his ankles. Unpredictable sensations threaten to overwhelm him and she feels terrible that she can’t even fathom how to protect him from it.

She feels even worse that he seems resistant to letting her try.

They sleep apart for a few days. She cries and doesn’t even try to blame it on the hormones. 

He calls her in the evening on his fourth day home from the hospital and asks if she’s seen his favorite Oxford University sweatshirt; “the blue one with the boxy lettering.” She realizes it’s still in her bag of things she had her mother bring her at the hospital, and she offers to return it to him that night. 

He invites her into his apartment. She settles on the couch and gives the sweatshirt back, feeling a bit of loss as the treasured, Mulder-scented fabric leaves her fingers. Still, he smiles genuinely and thanks her, and she supposes that’s a sort of recompense.

He puts it on and freezes, looking down at it. The middle is stretched out a bit from Scully wearing it.

“Mulder, I’m so sorry. Maybe with a good wash and dry we could fix-”

Mulder shakes his head and takes it off. “No. No, it’s-” He swallows and Scully tilts her head at him, brows furrowed. 

He offers her a hand, helping her to her feet and then, a bit awkwardly, he lifts her arms up and slides the sweatshirt over her head and down her arms until its snugly fitted over her and her belly. 

He swallows again and blinks. “Yeah, that’s, um. That’s better.” 

In a second, she’s wrapped securely in his arms and wrapping him securely in hers. Between them, she can feel their baby kick. Mulder gives a watery laugh and hugs her more tightly.

And she thinks, for a moment, that he’s more comfortable than any shirt.

[vidavalor]

Hello!

Very often I see criticism mounted at Aziraphale that he treats Crowley like a pet or that he lords himself over Crowley by using his angelic status, reminding him constantly that he’s a demon. Obviously Aziraphale has character flaws as much as any other character but I’ve always found those criticisms harsh (harsher then any leveled against Crowley at least) and was wondering your thoughts?

Hi there. 💕 Thanks for the ask & hope that you're having a good start to your week. There are iced tea and sugar cookies today, if you're hungry.

These people certainly don't think much of Crowley if they think he'd be madly in love with someone who treated him poorly?

Crowley and Aziraphale are as tongue-in-cheek about their use of 'angel' and 'demon' as they are about any other Heaven/Hell terms that they use. Aziraphale doesn't actually know why he's still an angel when he's done more to "thwart the will of God" than most of the demons combined. Being an angel isn't something he's especially proud of-- it's more a source of pain and confusion for him. He does not treat Crowley like a pet-- I'm not even going to dignify that lunacy with a formulated response lol-- nor does he "lord his angelic status" over him because Aziraphale doesn't believe he has a superior status to Crowley. He adores Crowley.

Words like 'demon' and 'fiend' have multiple meanings. Not even just in the sense of Crowley and Aziraphale having a hidden language-- just currently in existence in our world. A demon is someone who is also someone who is very skilled in an area. A fiend is someone who is passionate about something or very focused with a real determination towards something. If you honestly look at a scene like the one below and think that you're watching Aziraphale "lord his angelic status" over Crowley, I'm afraid you might be missing the humor:

If anyone wants meta on just how healthy they are, you can wade through the Apology Dance-centric deep dive I posted yesterday which gets into both of them being wonderfully flawed characters. There are some other posts about Aziraphale and his various Heaven traumas in the pinned post on my blog but I'd say that most recent one is probably best suited for what you're talking about.

I suspect a certain amount of silly Aziraphale hate is just young people whose nascent sexualities have been stirred up by Crowley. Clearly, they have good taste where that's concerned. Can't fault them there. 😊 This stuff isn't new-- every fandom has it. There were people who thought Scully was toxic because she didn't believe in Mulder's every wackadoodle theory when, really, it was just the young having a bit of a sexual awakening around Mulder. Not being able to see both characters in a fictional romantic partnership as flawed is usually the byproduct of being young and having a crush on one of them.

When we more fully grown people develop crushes on fictional characters, we're a bit more objective about the fact that they're all disasters, if sexy disasters. 😂 We don't begrudge the fictional characters their fictional romantic partners and are mature enough/experienced enough with life to appreciate the romance. Cut the kids some slack. Crowley's tight jeans have just gone to their heads, is all. We've all been there. One day, they'll appreciate Aziraphale for the fucking brilliant character he is and see how he and Crowley are terrific together.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 24: Steps Toward Tomorrow

Prompt: "You didn't do anything wrong"

Based on THIS post: What if Mulder had given Scully something other than that rag doll? Rating: T, wc: 1,026

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Seeing Mulder's boyish smile and giddy excitement is all the gift she needs. She doesn't need the pizza or the present he keeps trying to hide, though it's clear he can't wait to give it to her.

“Sorry I’m not your regular pizza delivery guy,” he says.

“I like you better.”

“Oh, do you?” He grins at her. The scars on his face are still healing; as are his emotional wounds. She’s slipped him a pamphlet for therapy one morning without a single word. She didn’t want him to think she was pressuring him. The next day, he brought over breakfast to thank her, casually mentioning he’d made an appointment. He’s moving forward, and so are they.

“You sure you don’t want to eat?” he asks, chewing his pizza with gusto. She wants to ask him whether he’s eaten at all while she was in the hospital but bites her lip. She knows he can take care of himself. With the pregnancy, she’s feeling the need to mother everything and everyone around her. Including Mulder.

“Later,” she replies softly, as Mulder clears his throat and, with mock ceremony, retrieves the present he’s half-heartedly hidden between the couch pillows.

“I bet you forgot about that, didn’t you?” She takes the neatly wrapped gift from him with a smile.

“No, actually. I thought about it a lot while I was lying in my hospital bed, wondering what on earth you could have given me.” He’s already given her so much. Does he even realize that? Glancing at him, she isn’t sure. But right now he’s waiting for her to unwrap the small gift box.

She takes her time, knowing it drives Mulder crazy. To her greatest surprise, he waits patiently, his hands folded in his lap. She gives him another smile and that’s when she sees how nervous he is. What reason would he have to be anxious?

Under the wrapping paper, she finds a plain cardboard box. She opens the flaps on each side and peeks inside. A gasp leaves her throat as she reaches for the small baseball mitt that’s lying there.

“Oh, Mulder,” she whispers, a knot of tears forming in her throat. She takes the mitt out and lets her fingers run over the leather, worn smooth by years of use. The caramel is faded in some places, has darkened in others. Once upon a time, a small boy must have loved this mitt more than anything else. A tear falls into the center of the mitt, right next to a scratch that makes her think of long summer afternoons spent outside.

“Is it what you imagined?” Mulder asks in a quiet voice.

“Not even close,” she admits. She can’t stop touching the glove, following its lines, and feeling the weight of it in her hand. The history it brings with it. The love it holds inside.

“I don’t know what to say.” She’s crying big tears now, unable to hold her emotions at bay any longer.

“Hey,” Mulder says, putting his arm around her and holding her close. “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Mulder,” she assures him with a sound stuck between a hiccup and a laugh. “It’s the hormones. I love your present. I love it.” She repeats the words to let him know she means them.

She stares into his eyes, seeing him all blurry. She thinks there might be tears on his cheeks too. He wipes at her eyes and her cheeks with his thumb and there he is, the man she loves, the father of her child, smiling at her.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No.” She leans over and kisses him on the lips. What had become so normal last year, is new all over again. Being allowed to touch and kiss each other. To love. They’re moving forward in this regard, too, both learning to overcome their fear of hurting the other with their touch. Their bodies have changed in so many different ways.

“This gift it… it comes with a second gift.” Scully peers back into the box. It’s empty.

“It’s not in there,” Mulder explains. “It’s not a traditional gift. It’s- this baseball mitt meant the world to me when I was five or six. Where other kids slept with a stuffed animal, I had my mitt. No matter how dirty it was. You can imagine how much my mom hated it.” He smiles and she does, too, happy that he has these beautiful memories of his childhood locked in his heart.

“I grew out of the mitt and got a new one. Several, actually. Samantha had it for a while, but she never cared for baseball. I thought my parents had thrown it away, but I found it when we cleared out my mom’s house. I saw it and I thought… you know, I don’t remember whether my dad played catch with me or if it was someone else. I don’t remember. And I don’t want that to happen to this one.” He points at her stomach.

“I want to teach him – or her. I want it to be me.” Tears fall soundlessly from her eyes and she doesn’t make a move to wipe them away or hide them. “I want to teach our kid how to play baseball,” Mulder says, his voice thick with emotion.

“I want that, too.” She takes his hand into hers and puts their entwined hands on her stomach. She thinks their child is sleeping, but then she feels a kick, and Mulder gasps.

“I will never get tired of this,” he says in awe, staring at her belly. He lifts his eyes to meet hers. “Still like my gift?”

“I love your gift, Mulder. You’ve given me so much. This one included.” She motions at the spot where her sweater stretches over her protruding stomach.

“My pleasure.” The baby kicks again, this time more forceful. “I think Junior might be hungry. You like pizza, kiddo, don’t you?” Mulder speaks the words directly against her stomach before he kisses her there. There’s no kick, but Scully’s stomach grumbles, making her and Mulder chuckle.

[pookie-mulder]

June 2024 fic roundup

Here are my favorite June reads:

👶📝 Of Our Own Making by @television-overload

I totally forgot to put this on last month’s list! I absolutely loved reading each new chapter every morning at work. I can’t not read a marriage of convenience fic, especially when there’s a baby involved.

💌🦃 Small Lives Awake by Jesemie’s Evil Twin

You know when you read something so sweet, so pure, that you feel like it breaks your heart in the best way? That’s this fic. It’s incredibly fluffy without being cheesy, and the writing style is so elegant.

🏝️👨‍👩‍👦 The Eden Series by Jacque LaVa

Was this the best fic I’ve ever read? No. Was everyone OOC? Definitely. Did I still enjoy it? You bet. I cannot resist the siren call of a survival fic, an amnesia fic, or a kidfic, and this had all three.

👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️ The Marriage Spectacular by @cecilysass

I’ve never met a cecilysass fic I didn’t like, and this was no exception. Fake relationship my beloved! Only one bed my beloved! Mulder and Scully being idiots in love my beloved! Absolutely delightful. 10/10, no notes.

🌀☔️ Hurricane Season by beduini & rah

This fic perfectly captures M&S’s “we’re completely and utterly devoted to each other and literal soulmates yet we still doubt our place in each other’s lives and we never actually talk about it” dynamic that we know and love. It takes place when William is a few months old and they’re still trying to define their relationship. I loved it SO MUCH!

(hmu for an epub — the chapters are long, which makes it easy to lose your place if you don’t finish the chapter in one sitting)

❄️✈️ WHITEOUT by EvanBlack

A classic “Mulder and Scully get in a plane crash and have to survive until help arrives” story. (You all know by now how much I love a survival fic!)

I absolutely adored the dynamic between them in this one. They’re down SO bad for each other, and it shows. I especially loved the beginning when they’re both wishing they were sitting next to each other so they could hold hands. That’s the good stuff right there!

🛁🧪 Antidote by Rachel Howard and Karen Rasch

Mulder and Scully investigate an unknown contagion in a remote town. You can probably guess what happens from there.

This was the perfect road trip read! Engaging and exciting without being too plot-heavy.

🤰👶 40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog

What if the IVF worked?

The most delectable pregnancy fluff with a dash of smut and a healthy serving of Mulder and Scully figuring out their relationship.

🪶🐎 Omens by @lepusarticus

I cannot say enough good things about this fic. It’s definitely a new addition to the Holy Grail list.

It’s a casefic, but it doesn’t feel like a casefic…more like an exploration of magic and family and love. With its spooky small-town gothic vibe and emphasis on powerful women and strange houses and ancient magic, it reminds me a lot of my favorite book series, The Raven Cycle. (If you liked this fic, you should go read TRC!)

This fic has layers and nuance and themes and motifs and gorgeous metaphors and one incredibly hot scene that ticked all my boxes. Even the OCs are rich and compelling. I would read a whole series set in this universe!

💥🚗 Goshen by Bonetree

Emily angst plus survival plus tending to each other’s injuries plus hurt/comfort? Yes please! I love it when I find a fic that seems to be created in a lab just for me.

(After reading the summaries of the following installments, I’m not quite sure if they’re really my thing. Has anyone read the rest of the series? Did you like it?)

👦🏻🦊 A Boy and His Fox by 6hoursgirl

Mulder and Scully “platonically” coparent their son. Mulder learns what it means to be a dad. Pure, unadulterated fluff! If you like kidfics, this one is a must-read.

📚👩‍⚕️ Heuvelmans’ On the Track by The_Mythopeodic

This fic is a fandom classic, and I can definitely see why. The author uses language in unexpected and interesting ways, which is not something you see very often in fic.

I tend to go for “popcorn” fics that are addictive and easy to binge. This one is more like a hearty slab of meat. Both types are good in their own way, but this fic made me work for it.

Anyway, I got a bit frustrated with myself around the halfway mark and kept having to reread passages a few times to truly understand what’s going on. I lamented that I needed a reading guide like they used to give you in English class.

After putting it aside for a few days, I came back and DEVOURED the second half. I don’t want to spoil anything, but if you’ve read it, you know what I’m talking about. I loooooved seeing Scully be resourceful and scrappy and capable, and the epilogue is incredible. I’m glad I pushed through!

🪡🌨️ Skamania County by Sarie_Fairy

This is actually the second time I’ve read this one, which I didn’t realize until near the end when I tried to leave kudos, haha. Anyway, I loved it both times! It has everything that makes survival fics so enticing: a nice trip to the woods that quickly goes wrong, one person hiding their life-threatening injury from the other, the intimacy of tending to their wounds, cuddling (naked) for warmth, and finally resolving that UST. Chef’s kiss!

🧙‍♀️🔭 The Mars Differential by @asteraceae-blue

This one is a WIP, and I cannot wait for the rest! It’s an intriguing casefile with plenty of msr.

I also read a bunch of @o6666666’s fics thanks to this masterlist that made its way around recently!

They are the master of writing fic that hurts so good. This IVF arc one might be my favorite, along with this season 9 one that squeezed my heart like a stress ball.

[intothedysphoria]

Needed on this cold winter morning: Steve and his roommate billy have a snow day and maybe confess their feelings 🥺

Steve had plans for the day. Work for a start. The snow, thickly laid outside, did not seem to want to cooperate.

He woke to Jinkx and Pepper vigorously batting at the window, staring out at the snow with their huge green eyes. Billy, asleep on the chair beside the window, was unaware of the fact that Jinkx was sitting on his hair.

That is until he removed her and she started yowling. Not even Billy could sleep through the pitiful meows of an overly spoiled orange cat.

Billy squinted, looking vaguely annoyed and completely asleep. Then his eyes landed on the culprit. Followed by craning his neck back to see the shimmering white scene outside.

He muttered something about cats thinking they could get away with anything, then wandered into the kitchen.

Steve had not signed up to spend possibly a full 24 hours indoors with Billy Hargrove. Not because he was particularly difficult company but more because Steve was very slightly in love.

For reasons like this, Billy handing him coffee just the way Steve liked it. Without even having to be asked. He’d just do things for people. Genuinely completely selfless.

He’d even given his seat up for Pepper. She curled up in a ball and purred, eyes closed and whiskers twitching.

It was almost like they were a couple. Especially when Billy signalled Steve onto his lap and Steve just climbed on, letting Billy be his own personal hot water bottle.

Billy checked his phone.

“Ugh, gonna be snowing all day. X Files time?”

And there was another running joke from when they’d dressed as Mulder and Scully for Halloween two years prior.

They’d made out just a little. For the bit. It wasn’t like gay or anything.

Sure, they were both gay but Billy wasn’t gay for him. His type was like Jason Carver or something. Someone blonde.

Pepper wailed beneath them and Billy scooped her up, letting her chase her tail on Steve’s lap.

Billy ran his hands over her fur, gently detangling her claws from when she swiped at strands of blonde ringlets.

“You gonna stop being such a menace to me and my boyfriend, pretty girl? Hmmmm?”

Steve’s brain literally had a scratch on a record moment.

“B-boyfriend?”

Billy stared at him. And stared. And stared.

“Do you prefer partner? I mean we are 27 and 28, I guess that sounds more mature.”

Steve’s brain ground to a halt more and he asked how long they’d been in a relationship.

The answer was apparently two years from the Halloween they made out.

All Steve could seem to say was “oh”

Then they watched an entire season of Buffy with Steve still on Billy’s lap. It was a lot nicer than being stuck outside in the cold.

For @shieldofiron and our love for Pepper and Jinkx the cats

[thursdayinspace]

fic master post

wild side - G, 1,205 words (AO3 link)

“Hey, Scully?” “Yeah?” “What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” Or: sometimes being stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night with your work partner of five-plus years is the best possible version of events.

in conclusion - T, 3,370 words (AO3 link)

It's the middle of the night in a freezing cold motel room and they both haven't slept. The best time and place to figure out how relationships work -- theirs in particular.

time and space - M, 2,604 words (AO3 link)

Sometimes he wonders if it would be easier if she'd be gone from his life completely. Then he reminds himself: if she moved to the ends of the earth he would still want to follow her. And when she calls, he always answers the phone. Set during the revival era. They always find their way back to each other.

five ways to says "I love you" (plus one including words) - T, 4,501 words (AO3 link)

Just because something is unspoken, it isn't always unsaid. You just have to know what to look for.

sanctuary - T, 1,550 words (AO3 link)

In a world full of lies and fear and darkness, they have each other to be the light and shelter that they need. That's something to hold onto. They watch each other sleep and consider everything that means.

mend into pieces - Explicit, 1,641 words (AO3 link)

There is nowhere she would rather be than here, with him, making the biggest mistake of her life and enjoying every second of it. Every mistake made with him is greater than every win, every success, every moment of perfect joy she has ever experienced. She’ll break herself for him as he does for her. -- Set in early season 2, right after Scully's return.

travel in style - G, 1,401 words (AO3 link)

“I can’t believe there wasn’t a single room available anywhere,” Scully says, snuggling deeper under the jacket she’s using as a blanket, already sounding half asleep as she tilts the driver’s seat back into a reclined position. “Three motels and not one single bed to be found.” Mulder shifts in the passenger seat – which she had insisted he should take because of the leg room – and desperately tries to get comfortable. “That has literally never happened before,” he agrees, sliding the seat back as far as it will go. It’s still too cramped. “God, Scully, how can you ever sleep in the car? You always make it look so easy.”

from this morning forward - Explicit, 7,233 words (AO3 link)

Moving back in happens slowly. It's not a decision, it's not a plan. They've each battled their own demons, and now that the wounds are starting to heal, she's so tired of pretending that she doesn't miss him every day. After all, through the good times and the bad, it's always been the two of them, together. -- Set during the revival era.

it's the day the world didn't end - Explicit, 1,544 words (AO3 link)

The clock ticks over to the day the world doesn’t end and he kisses her. She kisses him back. It’s not a new year’s kiss, it’s a kiss more than six years in the making. -- Millennium fic.

got you covered - T, 2,419 words (AO3 link)

“Is it a bit cold in here?” He wraps his arms around himself, looking at her in her thick cardigan next to him on the couch. “The heating’s broken,” she says. “I’m sorry, I should have called you before you came over.”

words behind the meaning - G, 3,175 words (AO3 link)

He tells her he owes her everything and she owes him nothing. She knows that's not true, but she doesn't get to tell him. Life has other plans. But she knows. And once life lets her, she will tell him. -- Post-Fight the Future: they don't kiss in that hallway, but they get there eventually.

tuesday - M, 894 words (AO3 link)

They get married on a Tuesday. It just feels like the time is right. They've waited long enough; it doesn't matter that they're only just beginning to realize that.

yesterday's future - Explicit, 3,189 words (AO3 link)

They deserve to be happy. It's not too much to ask. It's something worth fighting for, something to hold onto; the light at the end of the tunnel. That is the one thing they promise each other above all else: a future where they don't have to run anymore.

spectacular - Explicit, 2,238 words (AO3 link)

They make rules, and they make them for good reasons. No kissing at work. Definitely no sex during work hours. And they would absolutely, definitely, under no circumstances ever break their own rules. (with wonderful art here)

ellipsis - Explicit, 3,758 words (AO3 link)

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.

beyond a doubt - T, 1,164 words (AO3 link)

Maybe their second meeting will be better than their first. He’s here even though the world has fallen apart. And she’s afraid. What will she do, what can she do if it’s not really him? If they have succeeded at last, destroyed him and left only an empty, Mulder-shaped hull in an awful prison suit. or: the kiss from The Truth, told in 1,000 words.

distractions - G, 1,181 words (AO3 link)

He wants to ask if she’s okay, but he knows the answer to that. And she’s told him more than once that she doesn’t want to talk about it. She says she has no memory of what they did to her. Sometimes he’s not sure he believes her.

coffee and pancakes - T, 1,881 words (AO3 link)

It’s amazing, he thinks, how quickly you can get used to things just because they feel right. It’s been no more than a few weeks since they unpacked the last of her boxes; there hadn’t been many to begin with. She had left a lot of stuff behind when she’d moved out and barely acquired new things during the time she’d been away. Everything is back where it belongs now. or: Scully has moved back in and Mulder is realizing that a home is not just four walls and a door.

no longer dreaming - Explicit, 2,626 words (AO3 link)

She refuses to do anything while he still has his arm in a sling. And while his body is straining towards her with every cell, deep down he’s grateful. All these years they’ve waited. He doesn’t want to rush this now. -- Post-millennium, they finally let themselves have what they've both wanted for so long.

home furnishings - Explicit, 5,008 words (AO3 link)

It starts with a sprained ankle and frustration about a broken chair. He knows it’s not IKEA’s fault. He and Scully have gone through a number of chairs over the years. But he thinks a billion-dollar multinational company will survive the scorn of one grumpy customer. (or: Mulder writes reviews. Mulder also loves Scully.)

all after such a desert - Explicit, 31,990 words (AO3 link)

He would rather stick his fingers in a wall socket than hurt or upset her, ever. He keeps waiting for this love to start hurting the way he knows all love hurts at some point down the road. But he’s loved her for years and here they are. Tentatively, timidly, his soul is still reaching for hers, asking it to soothe old hurts and pain. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to be enough, but he’ll try, he’ll try. And hope that eventually, maybe, one day he will deserve her, if he just tries hard enough. In which Mulder learns what it truly means to be a whole person to someone.

every possible way - Explicit, 7,268 words (AO3 link)

There's a first time for everything, but when the thing itself defies explanation, maybe there are more firsts than just the one. Or: five moments and everything between and after.

More short ficlets under the cut:

the ginger invasion - G, 723 words (AO3 link)

Mulder is sick. He never gets sick, and it's awful. It's terrible. Scully will be wondering why he isn't at work. He should call her. He just about manages to lift his head and there she is, Scully, in his bedroom doorway.

starstruck - G, 671 words (AO3 link)

"So, I guess she's sticking around, then?" Frohike asks, and Mulder looks up from . . . whatever it is Byers just put on the screen in front of him and nods. "Seems that way. At least for now." -- Mulder has a crush. The gunmen know it.

how many stars - G, 472 words (AO3 link)

"What are you thinking?" she asks, and he turns his head to the side, looks at her. "The universe," he says.

had you big time - G, 540 words (AO3 link)

"I've thought about our weekend away," he whispers against her lips, before he kisses her again. "I've had the perfect idea."

tasting raindrops - G, 385 words (AO3 link)

She laughs with him and can't look away, raindrops clinging to his lashes, water dripping from his nose -- not kissing him in this moment would defy every law of the universe.

what time do you call this? - G, 495 words (AO3 link)

He stirs as she carefully lowers herself onto the mattress and she pauses, not wanting to wake him. It's way after midnight and it's enough if one of them will be entirely sleep-deprived the next day.

heaven and hell - T, 996 words (AO3 link)

Hell doesn’t burn. There is no pit of fire. Heaven isn’t a green garden under a cloudless sky. Everything is made of moments, and they don't happen on schedule. But often, they happen with his hand in hers.