Hi! I'm not sure if you've done this before, but my prompt is: 2023 Mulder and Scully rediscovered an old copy of their Hollywood AD film. Thanks so much!😍
It was the kind of autumn Gothic novels were written for, blustery and orange-gold with purple velvet twilights. The house was creaky with uneven seams that the cold seeped into, left Scully in thick wool socks at breakfast, flannel pajamas at bedtime.
She went to the thrift store after work to hunt for handmade quilts. She liked to rescue them from the sad racks under fluorescent lights, imagined women gossiping and sewing them with fingers as nimble as any surgeon. Remembered how Playtex seamstresses sewed the first space suits with 1/64th of an inch tolerances.
Scully perused the DVD bin as she waited in line, a Rising Sun quilt in shades of blue over her arm. She smiled as she went through them, remembering the times she had seen the films. A Few Good Men, When Harry Met Sally, Gladiator, and…oh.
Christ.
Scully felt her face go hot, glanced around as though anyone were paying attention. She tucked The Lazarus Bowl under the quilt, tossed a twenty on the counter, and fled.
***
Mulder hadn’t really stopped smirking since she came home with it, cracking wise as he assembled a large plate of nachos for them to share.
Scully, angry at herself for this weakness, glared at him from the depths of a laundry-basket quilt in shades of green.
“Should I call Walter?” he asked, settling next to her. “Your main squeeze?”
“Fuck off.”
“How many Hail Marys from Sister Spooky for that?” He hit play.
Scully, visible only as narrowed eyes and a messy bun, watched Téa Leoni sprint across the screen in Manolo Blahniks.
Mulder loaded a chip with refried beans. “Look at her go,” he said with admiration. “You’ve got to be impressed with her commitment to verisimilitude.”
Her onscreen doppelgänger paused to let her bosom heave.
“I would never run in that bra, that would just ruin your neck.”
“Well, that’s why she got paid the big bucks.”
They watched in silence for a while longer, eating, listening to the wind scrape tree branches together over the mortifying dialogue.
“You ever miss it?” Scully asked. She’d be sixty in a few months. Sixty, my god. She was thirty-six when this mess had come out and had been starting to feel past her prime just then.
She’d been a child. An infant.
Mulder made a non-committal noise around a pickled jalapeño. “Sixty-two now, I’d have been punted out 5 years ago anyway.”
“I think the kids say yeeted now,” Scully remarked. “We’d have been yeeted.”
“That’s very lit of you, Scully.”
“I’m hip to the lingo. All the new residents are like…sixteen.”
Gary Shandling waved his gun, made dire threats that violated the Geneva Convention.
“Look at this fucking idiot,” Mulder scowled. “I showed him how to hold the thing, Jesus Christ.”
Scully smirked. “You ever show him whether you dress to the left or the right?”
He grabbed her under the quilt, drew her against him as the windows rattled. “Just you. In the limo, if I recall. God this is a terrible movie.”
“Only on the way back,” she clarified, his hands under her shirt. “I made you buy me dinner first.”
“Always a lady,” he mumbled into her neck. “Though…that was the Bureau card. I guess ol’ Walter bought you dinner and I just reaped the benefits.”
Scully shoved him away.
“Wh-“
“I can’t live this lie any longer, Fox. I’m in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner.”
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is it too soon to do this yet?
Author: tiredmoonlight
For: @monikafilefan
After the excitement of the movie premiere, Scully wonders if she made the right decision by leaping into a relationship with Mulder. And when she's offered a job in another department of the FBI, something that previously would have been easy to turn down now had a lot more potential. There's just one question, and that's whether or accepting this job qualified as running away from changes in her life that she didn't want to deal with.
Ao3 Link
#XFFlickedSwitch2023 14/27
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"Is Being Made a Fool Of a Crime, Agent Mulder?"
(Fictober, Day 13)
In honor of one Special Agent Fox Mulder's birthday (a little early-- but that never hurt anyone~.)
*****
An odd concept, to ruminate on the undead’s gentler side.
It made more sense to contextualize the zombification of all that was complex and truthful into the unholy glamor of dead-eyed closeups, unnatural pallor, and fake flesh of the traditional and tofurky variety. But most things about that case, about that trip, about that premier defied strict contexts.
Hollywood, sinking their claws into religious commercialism not unlike Micah Hoffman (and like Hoffman, losing dimes and dollars on paltry tricks to satisfy their own egos), self-immolated with the promise of faster fiction; and stripped the true believers-- men of high ideals and faulty judgments and lost faiths-- of their authenticity, dragging them over for a quick laugh and a quicker burial. The case, the trip, the premier wrung out passionate blood from heads, hands, and hearts; and watered it down into cheap one-night thrills served with too-white veneers and empty back pats.
“The dead are everywhere, Scully,” Mulder said-- meaning we're both here. You believed in me when I no longer knew what to cling to. Feeding on your brains kept me alive.
It was odd but it was right to feel the dead around them, to reanimate their death by celebrating life. To make a corner of the fakest town into the realest part of their night.
"This feels like a birthday," he said over rich steaks, desserts, and layered glances; then relished in Scully's mid-chew pause, mock serious consideration, and sudden, unexpected toast.
"A Happy Birthday to all the Roadrunners and Wile E. Coyotes that celebrate."
And their laughter was enough for this world and beyond.
******
Thank you for reading~
Enjoy!
Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event
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“I say that when zombies try to eat people, that's just the first stage. You see, they've just come back from being dead so they're going to do all the things they miss from when they were alive. So, first they're going to eat, then they're going to drink, then they're going to dance and make love.”
One pair of dancers in this scene is David Duchovny and Tea Leoni. Can you pick them out? I still haven’t been able to.
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