#can scully dance

[carefulfears]

I just love how carefree mulder and scully are in david’s episodes, it’s a side of them we so rarely got to see… 😔😔😔

yeah, me too. david writes journeys for mulder, with clear morals and arcs. the unnatural is about valuing “life on this planet,” finding space for joy and connection in the midst of blinding pursuit. amor fati is about commitment to your purpose, realigning to who you are at the core, who you were as a child. the promises that you made to yourself then. hollywood a.d. is about legacy, what we leave behind: does it matter if it’s warped, or if it’s nothing, so long as we loved and were loved well?

david’s episodes are classic hero’s journeys, active lessons for mulder as a character. but these are all things that scully already knows, so she gets to be passive and lighthearted and wise. they aren’t having anything beaten into them; they’re growing through storytelling, through play, through identification. they’re growing through watching a movie at 3am and rambling to each other. they’re growing through eating gross fake ice cream and reading old newspapers on a saturday morning. they’re growing through swinging a baseball bat, hips before hands, all night under the stars.

#this is why i love his dancing zombies at the end of ‘hollywood a.d.’ so SO much #mulder sitting out on the grass spiralling about how the dead are thought of and spoken about and the things that impact legacy and memory #things that are so deeply important to a man who spends his life chasing ghosts. who lost 2 family members that year #and scully is just next to him giggling and holding his arm like…they’re dead mulder! they don’t care! #eyes lit up waving that bureau credit card at him #and the way he’s just like….sigh. okay. #and gives it up and takes her arm so they can go out #when the music starts playing and you can still see mulder and scully holding hands in the background #and the zombies all get up and dance <33 #one of my favorite moments of the show. they’re happy. and that’s something. #and that’s what i love about david’s eps because who gives a fuck where the zombies came from! #who gives a fuck if the baseball player was really an alien! who gives a fuck who the boy on the beach was! #it doesn’t matter. it’s so metaphorical and just there for the lesson. and the lesson is always loving and beneficial for the characters #asks

[thisismeracing]

MICK DATING A K-POP IDOL | MS47

― Warnings: mentions of family members; not proofread. ― A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Asian people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <;3 ― Based on this requested here

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Everyone always took Mick as the country music type of guy, so when he started liking things about K-pop and added a few music from the genre to his official F1 playlist fans started to suspect something was up;

And as it happens, it was because a few weeks later you were walking on the paddock and getting to the Mercedes garage. Getting to Mick;

Your relationship was quick to become public, and Mick would attend concerts whenever he could;

It took him some time to get used to how famous you were. And how you would be giving him gits regularly, but everything you gave was always so thoughtful, especially when he got a song for his birthday - a whole song about how much he was your sunshine boy;

He loved watching your choreographies and would totally ask you to show them to him whenever you're home together.

You guys would share a bunch of stuff about your cultures. Constantly traveling between Asia and Europe between the holidays;

Mick was also the first boyfriend your fandom actively shipped. He would be all flush and happy about it, especially when he attended concerts, and some fans asked him for pics too;

He would put your songs to play in the garage, no questions asked;

Not only would Mick love watching you dance, but he would also try to learn some moves himself;

Would love it whenever you sang at home. Like truly love it;

The proudest boyfriend;

Would wear your merch around like one wears a wedding ring and proudly shows the world;

Mick would get into other K-pop groups too, and you would love to see him immerse in the culture;

Truly the sweetest and most comprehensive boyfriend you could've asked for.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! I don't know much about K-pop, so if anything is inaccurate or something please just let me know!🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!

Side note: Thank you for the request, nonny! It's been a beat since I last heard K-pop music, and I did while writing this piece - it was so much fun!! <3

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @leclercsluv @v1naco @callsign-scully @heelariously @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @peachiicherries @therealcap @mehrmonga @cixrosie @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @skepvids @scopeiguess @nzygftoji @princewis @bbreezybitch @graciewrote

✷ check here my main masterlist | patreon guide my taglist  if you wanna be tagged on my pieces

©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.

#singer!reader #kpop idol!reader #ms47 #mick schumacher #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #mick schumacher headcanon #f1 fandom #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x asian!reader #asian!reader #op: headcanons #f1 x you #f1 fic #formula one imagine

[bakedbakermom]

Good Morning

Rated X // 2300 words // Read on A03

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Summary:

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Notes:

A little smutbiscuit for Kinktober 2023. Prompts: morning sex, frottage, (light) somno. I was 3 or 4 days into writing this fic when the painfully talented @msrafterdark posted this piece and it was like fate and the universe had come together.

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Well, he loves her all the time—volleying theories back and forth across the office over burnt coffee and crappy photocopies, singing along off-key to whatever radio station comes through the static three hours into a road trip from one corner of nowhere to another, lounging on a tiny motel bed with sharp springs and a pile of reports spread out like snow across scratchy blankets. He loves her on his couch sharing a beer after a long day, in her kitchen as they dole out boxes of takeaway (broccoli beef extra spicy for him, kung pao tofu for her, and she always nabs the carrots from his shrimp fried rice), nestled against him with her tiny feet propped up on the coffee table and a bad movie on TV. He loves her when she presses her sweet lips to his and breathes hot into his mouth, when she wraps her smooth white legs around his waist and whimpers “more,” when she clenches around him in the dark as she shatters on a gasp of his name. Oh yes, he definitely loves her then.

But he especially loves her first thing in the morning.

It’s something about how soft she is. Agent Scully is all crisp lines and barbed tongue, the creases of her suits pressed sharp enough to kill a man as she slices through the hallways of the Hoover Building like a red-headed sword of justice, eyes flashing blue steel. Agent Scully can unman the most cantankerous and blustering small-town sheriff with the twitch of one razored brow, can force Death itself at scalpel-point to surrender the most intimate secrets of the grave.

Agent Scully flashes through her days like a machete, too sharp to touch and so blindingly bright it hurts him to look at her sometimes. But Morning Scully. Oh Morning Scully…

Her edges blur in the evening, melting under his words and his mouth and his hands, but it takes until morning for her to grow butter-soft and creamy between the rumpled sheets of their bed—her bed or his, both are theirs, though this particular morning they’re secure behind door 42, the honeyed sunlight of a rare empty Sunday drizzling through the blinds and illuminating the intricate dance of the little dust motes that hang in the air. She sleeps on her side with her back to the window, the light catching her crimson hair in a nimbus that he thinks would inspire a better man to painting or poetry, but reduces him to gibbering wonderment.

He watches her sleep with something like awe. Her lips slack and slightly parted, still plump and red from kissing. Freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across her sleep-pinked cheeks, hair in a delightfully tousled disarray that makes him think of sunset clouds and cotton candy. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as if she’s dreaming of something unpleasant, and he smoothes it oh so gently with his thumb. He doesn’t want to wake her; he’s not done looking yet. 

The sheets have shifted as they slept, revealing the hourglass curve of her side, the mole cradled just inside the firm crest of her hip. She had whimpered last night as he tongued it, a long detour on his slow journey to the oasis between her thighs. Her body is ripe with secrets to explore, his mental map of her slowly filling in as he traverses every hill and valley. He writes “here be monsters” beneath her ribs where she is too ticklish to touch, “here be angels” on the curve of her breast where the gentle scrape of his teeth makes her breath hitch. He finds heaven in the cradle of her hips, nirvana in the fragrant skin of her neck, paradise in the lush press of her lips.

Morning Scully may be soft, but Morning Mulder is getting decidedly less so by the minute.

She stirs slightly and rolls onto her back, the sheet slipping down the slope of her breast. One rosey nipple emerges into the cool morning air, pebbling quickly into a tantalizing peak, and he can’t resist anymore. He leans over her and circles it gently with his tongue, then pulls it into his mouth. He licks and sucks, feeling her flesh tighten even more, and when he scrapes his teeth against it, her chest jumps beneath him. She sucks in a breath, and her hands come up to card slowly through his hair. “Morning, Mulder,” she murmurs, her words still slurred with sleep.

“Good morning, Scully,” he answers as his mouth slides wetly to her other breast, on which he lavishes the same attention as the first, the slow and thorough consideration of his lips and teeth and tongue. Her breathing quickens, her pulse jumping visibly beneath the soft skin of her throat, and she moans low and long. He runs one hand up her leg, and her thighs part with a contented sigh; his fingers move higher until they brush against the curls of her sex, parting them to reach the hot, slick slit beneath. Morning Scully is always putty in his hands, her limbs loose and heavy, making love to him like something from a dream. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm.” Her hips move in small circles as he plays between her legs, right on the line between soothing and arousing, and a blush blooms across her chest. “Wh-what time’s it?”

“Late.” He kisses his way up her neck, suckles on her earlobe until she whimpers softly. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “I let you sleep in as long as I could stand it. Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His fingers skim her entrance and she twitches beneath him. “This is a nice way to wake up.”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Her face scrunches adorably, and she makes a grumpy whining sound in her throat. “Maybe?”

He smiles into her skin, presses his fingers just barely inside her. “Do you want me to stop while you figure it out?”

Eyes still closed, lower lip between her teeth, she smiles and shakes her head. 

Her body is sleep-warm and limp as he drags her thigh over his hip, opening her to him. His erection presses into the firm flesh of her ass as he strokes her, coaxing her arousal slowly to life. He slides his fingers through the slick folds of her sex, coating them in her wetness; some of it must be from last night, when he had pressed her into the cushions of the creaking leather couch and come inside her with a cry that made the upstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling—and then again, in this bed, as she rode him like a prize pony until they both came apart at the seams. She clenched around him like a vise as they came together, and the way he spasmed inside her only set her off again, until their orgasms seemed to feed off each other in an ouroboros of pleasure that felt endless and left them both gasping, shaking, too exhausted to even roll off the wet spot, let alone clean up properly.

She’s slick halfway down her thighs.

“Fuck, Scully, you’re so wet. You feel so good.” He slides his tongue into her ear and one finger into her slippery, aching heat, and her neck arches off the bed. “You felt good last night, too, especially the second time”—and now he scrapes his teeth along the shell of her ear, slides a second finger alongside the first—“when your pussy was already full of my cum, when I could feel it leaking out of you as I fucked you.”

“Jesus, Mulder,” she gasps, and spreads herself open even more, hooking her leg behind him and shifting a little onto her side. He holds her across her stomach and gathers her partly on top of him; her head falls back on his shoulder so he can tongue the soft column of her throat, nibble the sweet ridge along her collarbone. He ruts against her as his fingers pump slowly in and out, her clit hardening beneath his thumb. One arm is still trapped against the mattress, and he wriggles it free as best he can to fondle her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

She moans, squirming against him and pushing her ass deliciously against his hard length, begging for more. A quick shift of her hips, an awkward moment of fumbling, and then his cock is no longer trapped between their bodies but gliding between her slickened labia, and she brings a hand down to press him more tightly against her. He thrusts languidly, trapped between her hot little fingers and her even hotter cunt; he skims across her entrance with each stroke, rubs the head of his cock against her clit, her hips rolling in counterpoint to his sweet, unhurried rhythm. She reaches backward to grab his hair, whimpering, and his newly unoccupied hand busies itself at her other breast, groping and tweaking them in tandem.

“I love making you feel good, Scully.” His voice is velvet and gravel, his cock almost painfully hard against her molten core, and he talks to keep from embarrassing himself by coming before he’s even gotten inside her. “I love making you wet, feeling your clit pulse under my fingers, my tongue.” He licks her from shoulder to ear, leaving a glistening line of saliva along her skin, then sucks on the sensitive little spot where her jaw meets her throat. Soft little oh s spill from her lips as she grinds harder against his cock, and stars crowd his vision. “I love making you come, over and over. The sounds that you make, the way you smell, the way you squeeze me with your tight, wet cunt. ”

“Oh God.” Her whole body shudders and he feels a warm trickle of arousal coat his cock. Her face turns into the pillow, muffling the increasing volume of her moans. Greedy for the sound of her, he cups her jaw to pull her into a long, sloppy kiss, swallowing each whimper as she writhes against him with growing desperation.

“Are you awake yet, Scully?”

“Yes,” she pants helplessly against his mouth, his cock gliding between her soaked folds with almost no resistance. Soft, wet sounds fill the room, broken only by her breathy moans, his desperate panting. “More,” she manages to gasp. “God, more.”

His arm tightens around her stomach, and in one smooth move he drags her fully on top of him and scoots until his back is against the headboard. Her thighs fall to either side of his and he spreads her wide, his thick cock still thrusting along her slickened sex. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he growls, “Touch yourself,” into her ear.

A moment of hesitation, a deepening blush in her cheeks, and then she obeys. He watches her hand moving in quick tight circles over her clit, brushing the head of his cock as he slides it up and down the length of her. He slips just barely inside and she cries out, chasing him with her body when he withdraws, teasing her again and again. She gasps his name between casual blasphemies, notes in a symphony of moans and whimpers. “I want you inside me,” she finally begs. Her hand is slick with her own arousal as she wraps it around his cock, pumping him slowly, holding him against her entrance. She arches back to kiss him, plunges her tongue into his mouth, unable to stop the embarrassingly high-pitched whines coming from her throat. “Fuck, Mulder, I need you inside me when I come.”

“I live to serve,” he purrs against her mouth, and thrusts firmly upward, impaling her in one smooth motion. A loud cry pours from her throat—the neighbors are definitely going to complain again—and then she’s riding him for all she’s worth, her hips rolling and the muscles in her thighs clenching as she gallops toward release.

“Yes, oh God, Mulder, yes,” she gasps again and again, breathless and wanton, her tits bouncing in his hands as he pinches her nipples and her fingers making ever-more-frantic circles over her clit. “Close, so close, harder—”

Her words melt into a loud moan as he begins to plunge into her from below, his feet braced against the bed for leverage and his cock bumping against her cervix with every stroke. “Yes, Scully,” he hisses into her ear. “I want to feel it. Fuck me until you come.”

She’s tight and clenching around him, hotter than hell and slicker than sin, and his hand leaves her breast to join her fingers, stroking her clit together. He bites her nape, hard, and with a startled “ Oh! ” she shatters, her inner walls squeezing his cock in strong, rhythmic flutters as she gushes around him.

“Christ, Scully, did you just–?! Oh my god–!” Before she has a chance to answer or even catch her breath, he squeezes her tightly against his body and thrusts hard and fast, unable to hold back any longer. His ass lifts off the bed as he pistons in and out of her, desperate for release, and when she tightens around him again he comes with a roar—someone next door bangs on the wall—spurting hot inside her until his eyes roll back in his head and his vision goes red at the edges.

He comes down to find himself spooned against her, her ass cradled in the bowl of his hips as he softens inside her. They’ve made quite a mess, but his legs are burning like he’s been running for miles, and she’s gone completely limp against him; the last thing he can imagine is getting out of bed.

Still, he tries to be a gentleman.

“Want me to make some coffee? Then maybe a shower?”

She shakes her head against the pillow and pulls his arm tighter around her body. “I think I might be falling back asleep.”

He smiles into her hair. “Want me to wake you up a little later?”

“Absolutely.”

Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments will be printed and pasted into my little self-esteem scrapbook <3

#my writing #my fanfic #msr #msr fanfic #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #the x files #txf #xf fanfic #kinktober 2023 #good morning

[randomfoggytiger]

This is an abstract one, so ignore it if nothing comes to you, but I'm curious if there's any fics you can recommend that have the vibe of the dancing sequence at the end of Post Modern Prometheus.

Like carefree, happy, totally in love but repressing it (or not), suave, smiley, that kind of thing. Not actually a tag to the episode itself.

I have innumerable fics that fit this vibe-- so innumerable, in fact, that this category had to be whittle down to dancing stories, then cut down further to only include Post Modern Prometheus scenes. (But don't worry, there'll be a Part II sometime soon~.)

Partying and Pondering Post Post Modern Prometheus

@scenes-in-between/scullywolf's The Post Modern Prometheus (Ao3)

PMP Mulder is still foggy from the drugs (a precursor to the dancing fics; but begged to be included nonetheless.)

@purrykat/mylifeinshadow's The post-modern prometheus (pretty please)

PMP Scully looks up to see Mulder inviting her to dance.

Diana Alexander's Time Slows Down

PMP Scully's thoughts as she dances.

@agentwhalesong (Ao3/Alt. Ao3) Throughout The Years - Chapter 5

PMP Mulder's bittersweet thoughts as he and Scully dance.

Madeleine Partous's (The Annex) Unbound

Post PMP Scully ponders her druggie-like existence as she and Mulder part ways with the Mutato on a highway surrounded by fields.

a_steady_wish's Things You Said on the Highway

Post PMP Scully enjoyed her dance, bantering with Mulder about doing it again some time.

@leiascully's (Ao3) OctoberFicFest Day 16: Dance (Ao3)

PMP Scully has their dance seared into her memory.

@i-gaze-at-scully/i_gaze_at_scully's

Alter the Ending

AU PMP Mulder dances with Scully under the streetlight.

In black and white

AU PMP Mulder and Scully dance under the streetlight, but with a little more existentialism.

@syntax6/syn's (Alt. Tumblr)

Post PMP Mulder beaten down by Mutato's imprisonment and the fact that "Samantha" hasn't reached out again.

@nowwhateinstein's (Ao3) Don't Know Much About History

Post PMP Mulder invites Scully over for a Thanksgiving movie night. (Does it count if it's not Mulder and Scully dancing?)

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls’s Unnamed

Post PMP Mulder and Scully celebrate Thanksgiving on the road.

Mulder42Scully5's Getting Out of the Car

Post PMP Mulder pulls over so he and Scully can dance in the rain.

CSM's C'est La Vie

AU PMP Scully invites Mulder along on a luxury couples cruise.

Enjoy!

#txf #fic #Collector's Edition #xf fanfic #Partying and Pondering Post Post modern Prometheus #asks #living-in-unreality #mine #S5 #The Post Modern Prometheus #Mulder42Scully5 #Obfusc8er #purrykat #mylifeinshadow #Diana Alexander #CSM #agentwhalesong #sadandangstyagent #Madeleine Partous #scullywolf #scenes-in-between #i-gaze-at-scully #i_gaze_at_scully #syntax6 #a_steady_wish #syn #nowwhateinstein #leiascully #skuls #ghostbustermelanieking

[scullys-girl]

how about an msr warm up prompt? mulder and scully sometime during the beginning of their sexual relationship:

(I haven’t written in over a year, bear with me.)

She’s mere moments from sleep when she feels the sensation of soft, grazing fingertips along her skin. Feather-light and tender, they brush heated wildfire in a few gentle strokes. For a split second, she’s convinced she’s dreaming, on the precipice of waking and finding herself alone in an otherwise empty bed, but then his fingers dance along the taut muscles of her abdomen, gently pulling her closer and sending a thrilling shiver throughout her body. She’s had many dreams about moments like these – fantasies. However, they pale in comparison to the electrified current that is presently holding her body hostage, tethering her to the man who is spooned up right behind her.

No, this was no dream. But she doesn’t dare open her eyes just yet to the precious moments unfolding.

He moves languidly, almost frustratingly slow, beginning his lips’ journey with open-mouthed kisses against the back of her neck. A soft breath of pleasure leaves Scully’s lips just as he suckles at her pulse point, teeth grazing the pounding artery beneath her dampened skin.

“Mul…” It’s a quiet, strangled gasp. “Mulder.”

Mulder hums against her spine, and she can feel his smile. “Is this okay, Scully?” he asks as the hand along her belly slowly moves upwards.

Scully nods, trying not to show just how desperate she’s becoming. But as soon as she feels the slightly calloused pad of his fingertip brush against her nipple, she can’t help but squirm under his touch. Arching her back, she nestles her bottom into the curve of his lap as he shifts with her, fitting their bodies together like two puzzle pieces. In this position, she can feel how hard he is for her, making her mouth water with anticipation and need. Oh, how she wishes there wasn’t a stitch of clothing between them.

“Yes,” she chants under her breath with another pass of his fingers under her sleep top; she just can’t help the way the breathy syllable leaves her lips.

“Scully,” comes Mulder’s heated reply. Kneading her breast tenderly, he nibbles on her earlobe, sending more jolts of pounding excitement to her center. Squeezing, flicking, pinching; he trails a single finger down her sternum, dipping it into her navel, before teasing the waistband of her pajama bottoms. “Scully,” he says again, deeper in vibrato.

Slowly opening her eyes to the quiet glow of yellow spilling in from the hallway, she turns her face to meet his eyes. They remind her of secret kisses and worn-out leather sofas. They remind her of home, of safety. Her heart thumps loudly.

Mul-der. Mul-der.

He smiles, lovingly stroking her rosy cheek. Scully smiles back, feeling a warmth radiate through her chest. This is still very new to them, having only made love a handful of times, and it still warms her heart that he takes the time to prioritize her feelings and makes sure she is fully on board with what they are doing.

Mulder nuzzles her nose and places a chaste kiss on her lips. “Hi,” he mumbles as they part.

Turning to fully face him, Scully wraps her top leg over Mulder’s hip and plays with his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp the way she knows he likes. She can feel his body shiver from her touch, his hard cock mere millimeters from the radiating heat between her thighs.

“Hi,” she whispers back, holding Mulder’s heated and loving gaze until she can’t handle the anticipation a second longer. Scully parts her plump lips, languidly swiping her tongue between them.

She needs him.

She loves him.

Flipping her lover onto his back, Scully hears the excited breath that leaves his lungs. Goosebumps spread across her skin instantly as her body reacts to him. She rocks her hips forward, gushing with sweet, sweet arousal. A moan leaves Mulder’s beautiful lips and she can't decide which she’d rather do next: kiss him or make him moan again.

“Scully.” He waits for her, whispering her name in awe.

Feeling bold, Scully nibbles on her bottom lip, maneuvers her hand into the front of his boxers, and grips his cock firmly. She leans in, almost whispering their lips together, but not quite close enough to touch. A deeper, longer moan fills her ears and that’s when she knows she’s made the right decision.

“That’s it, Mulder,” she praises with a purr. She begins pumping him up and down, his precum slick and needy like she is. “Let me hear you, baby.”

@today-in-fic

#my ask box is open #the x files #msr #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder and scully #txf fanfic #stellaxxgibson #quite literally haven’t written in exactly a year i think #oof #she’s back…?

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

thoughts while rewatching triangle:

mulder is straight bonkers for just sailing the bermuda triangle looking for a ghost ship.

scully's queen anne counterpart is dancing with an older man, no surprise there lol.

scully running around the fbi unhinged, trying to save mulder's ass, is my favorite thing ever. the people in the hallways and elevators all look like they've seen this many times before.

never thought scully had sexual tension with skinner or spender, but i kinda felt it in this ep! (weird to say)

the continuous takes are just so cool.

"because you're the only one who can save this ship" - yeah she is!

mulder and scully running through the hallways holding hands, my beloved.

scully waited a long time before hitting mulder during that kiss. don't blame her though!

skinner just throwing the flowers on the side table lmao.

"but you believed me" -- love the parallel to folie a deux. i feel like i could write an essay on this - scully is the skeptic, but she believes in mulder in any timeline.

and of course, hearing mulder say "i love you" to scully still makes me so happy.

#i liked this episode a lot more than i remember! #still can't believe this was written and directed by CC #it's like he got one excellent episode a season #and then we know how the rest turned out #triangle #the x files #txf meta #my.txf #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #txf

[aloysiavirgata]

Dancing that ISNT the PMP scene. Fucking love you gorgeous. ❤️❤️❤️

3 AM finds him waking up stiff and disoriented in the vinyl chair of her hospital room, his feet propped on an upside-down plastic wastebasket. His tie is hanging from the IV pole.

Mulder tests his joints, grimaces at the left shoulder. He’d overstretched it at the pool, shredding 2000 meters in under 30 minutes. He’s been lifting more, been running until he vomits. He doesn’t know if he’s punishing his body for being fit or trying to radiate so much health she’ll absorb it.

Perhaps if it’s the second he’ll need to feed it something other than coffee, Diet Coke, and sunflower seeds. Must be the first.

He examines her narrow form in the bruised light. Scully’s breath snuffles a bit at the cannula and he scans for blood at it but sees none. Her cheekbones curve resolutely past her patrician nose, down to her full, dry lips. There is a small tin of Smith’s Rosebud Salve on the fake wood nightstand. He resists the urge to rub a layer over them. He resists the urge to kiss her beautiful, cracked mouth.

Mulder sighs a bit, runs a finger around the back of his collar. She looks warm to him, looks safe and cared for and utterly beyond his ability to be of use. But he stays anyway, like one of those dogs that sleeps at the grave of its master.

He roams past the nurse’s station, where Jane and Esther give him sympathetic looks. They aren’t supposed to let him sleep in Scully’s room, but Esther is from Yorkshire and calls him lamb and duck and love, and he’s pretty sure he could get the lithe Jane in bed if he wanted to.

He’s drowned his sorrows in lanky brunettes before though, and it never quite took. Turns out he’s a man for dainty gingers.

The radio at the nurse’s station plays “Carolina In My Mind” and he hums along softly, making a styrofoam cup of tea. His father was happy in Raleigh. He was too, as much as he was happy anywhere. He thinks he might move down when Scully goes into the ground, a truth he can only admit at 3 AM. At all other times he will save her.

“Nah then, duck,” Esther says. “Tea from the machine, yer daft ‘apeth, when I’ve a proper kettle ‘ere? ‘Ow’s thy lass?”

He shrugs, smiles vaguely. Jane smiles back. Vaguely.

Mulder presses his head to the faded green wall as his tea steeps. It’ll be terrible, but strong. That’s good enough for him.

He hears a soft shuffling and looks up.

Scully in her spotless white robe and soft slippers, Scully like a Willow Ptarmigan approaching winter. The skin around her eyes is the delicate color of sublimated iodine.

“Scully,” he says, at a loss. She is beautiful in the way of alabaster vases, of all things that can shatter.

She yawns, lips shiny with the salve. Her hands are very thin when she covers her mouth. “Wonderful Tonight” begins on the radio now.

Esther smiles, looks away. Jane checks her watch and walks down the opposite corridor.

“Tea?” Scully says. “That’s more my brand. Why are you still here?”

He gulps the bitter brew. Winces. “I fell asleep,” he says, which is an answer but no answer at all.

“Mmm,” Scully says. She prepares herself some tea as well. Her white hands on the cup, her lower lip snagged between her teeth.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Mulder says.

“You didn’t. I just woke up. I do that a lot. My circadian rhythm…”

They don’t talk about her suprachiasmatic nucleus of the hypothalamus deep within her brain. Of what it might mean if it’s off kilter.

“I was noisy,” Mulder lies, looking at her nose again. He moves like a cat in her room. Like a thief in the night. “Banged into the bed.”

Scully smiles serenely. “It’s all right.”

Jane stalking the perimeter, Jane frowning at her clipboard.

The moon out the window like a scythe in the dark.

He loves her, does she know? Does he know what he would do to save her and how he’d do it and that he’d swim through blood and blood and blood for her, 2000 meters and back again in a heartbeat?

Scully puts her tea down, Scully looks at him with her late summer eyes in this month of her birth. Scully is dying.

On the radio, The Beatles begin “Let It Be,” and what the fuck, he draws her in, her tousled hair and fluffy robe and her rattan ribs.

“Mulder,” she says, peering up. She clutches his left hand with the pale garden spider of her right.

He twirls her beneath the fluorescent lights. He kisses her her forehead because if he kisses her mouth like he wants to she will die.

Jane does another lap and Esther pretends to read a chart and Scully murmurs along with Paul McCartney.

Mulder watches the flat light bounce off her hair, watches her sway, watches her smile for a moment. She tucks her head against his chest as the song ends, doesn’t withdraw.

“Angel Is A Centerfold” begins, which is hardly the mood he wanted, but they both laugh and the scythe of a moon fades away as they sing Na-na, na-na-na-na, Na-na-na, na-na-na-na in something like harmony.

He doesn’t know what song is next, but he holds her through it and the next one and a few more and Esther and Jane are replaced and the sun begins to burn the blackness away and Scully is warm and awake and alive in his arms for at least another day.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my fic #msr #prompt #cancer arc #memento mori

[television-overload]

rain

an x-files fic for scully's birthday ♡

Summary: Two agents, caught in the rain again. Mulder does what he's always wanted to do.

Word Count: 727

Tag List (let me know if you want added or removed!): @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosas @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson

(fic below the cut if you prefer reading on Tumblr)

-.-.-

It's raining.

They're standing in a forest clearing somewhere in Arkansas, where Mulder swears he just saw some massive creature vanish into thin air, but as usual, Scully saw no such thing. The sky had opened up into a torrential downpour about 30 minutes ago, and that was when she'd officially checked out. It was his fault for telling her she wouldn't need an umbrella, she said. Her boots are covered in mud, and she's standing there looking so indignant that it's adorable. She's gesturing wildly with her hands, her mouth moving a mile a minute, and he's transfixed.

He can't hear a word she's saying, because it's raining and the time feels right.

They've been here before. In Bellefleur, Oregon. In Kroner, Kansas. Something about the rain just strips back that Scully-seriousness he knows and loves, and his mind wanders. Makeup washes away, and he sneaks a peek at the woman beneath the Agent Scully mask: Dana, with a smattering of freckles over her nose and hair that curls at the ends if she doesn't straighten it.

It's raining, the time feels right, and so he kisses her.

She's in the middle of yelling at him for bringing her out here in the middle of February, never mind that he at least took her to a warmer southern state where spring had come early. But she's yelling at him, and he just thinks she's so beautiful when she's yelling at me and he kisses her, springing toward her suddenly and catching her completely off guard.

As soon as she's within arms reach, he's pulling her to him, hands slipping over her drenched raincoat and encircling her back. He dips his head without warning and crashes his lips to hers, and it's a miracle he remains standing. The ground below him may as well be shifting in a landslide brought on by all this rain, for all he's able to steady himself.

Her lips are cold and wet from the downpour, but at the same time they're soft and warm, and he's wanted to do this for so long.

He hopes he hasn't overstepped. They've been dancing closer and closer to this point for years, and he thinks she feels the same. But he doesn't know until he feels her hand travel up his arm and find purchase on his jacket sleeve, gripping the soaked fabric tightly and not letting go.

She makes a noise, adjusting the angle slightly and then she's kissing him back, and the corners of his mouth stretch upward in an irrepressible smile. She feels it, finally pulling back with a matching expression on her lips, and he can't help it—he brings his hands up to her cheeks, brushing away rivulets of water from her skin with the pads of his thumbs. Stringy strands of hair are plastered to her face by the rain, and he brushes each one back with the utmost care and attention, until he can finally see her properly.

In the rain, she looks just as she did seven years ago in a darkened graveyard in Oregon, and it's like no time has passed at all. The thought had crossed his mind, back then. Wild and uninhibited, sprung from his own subconscious regardless of social taboos and other things that made her off-limits. She had laughed at him, and he had thought kiss her, catching even himself off guard with the sentiment.

He didn't kiss her then—he had more self control than that—but he did join in her laughter, the sound bubbling up inside him in a way he hadn't felt in so long. Like a long-dried out spring being brought back to life by the rain, she revived him, gave him new life, and he'd never felt as alive as he did with her. As he did in this moment.

He hears her laugh now, a goofy little giggle he adores so much, and he finds himself grinning, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of her head and pulling her to his shoulder.

His cheek rests against her damp hair, breathing in the scent of rain and lingering notes of her shampoo, and he closes his eyes, feeling his heart leap in his chest.

"Happy birthday, Scully," he says, and he thinks maybe next time, she won't mind the rain so much.

#txf #x files #xf fanfic #msr #rain #happy birthday dana scully #season 7 #fox mulder #dana scully

[phillippadgettwrites]

Prompt: M&S get invited to a party by the Lone Gunmen. Scully surprises everyone by wearing a sexy outfit (leather skirt with high heeled boots maybe). They dance on 80s songs and drink and get veryyy horny

Interlude

Rated X / 1386 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

She’s drunk. Drunk drunk—the giggling, wobbling, uncoordinated kind. She’s not sure if she’s holding Mulder up at this point or he’s holding her up, or perhaps they are both being held up by the sweaty mass of bodies packed shoulder-to-shoulder around them in the Gunmen’s living room, shuffling haphazardly to the too-loud music. 

What you need is a big strong hand to lift you to a higher ground. Make you feel like a queen on a throne, make him love you ‘til you can’t come down. 

She almost hadn’t come. Their entire relationship has been so far from what anyone would consider normal that attending a house party together seemed downright scandalous, but she could tell that Mulder really wanted her to go. She took the opportunity to wear a little black miniskirt that’s been collecting dust in her closet for years, and paired with her highest heels and a loose-fitting blouse, it struck just the right balance of sexy and polished that she was able to bring herself to leave the house in it. When she slid into the passenger seat of his car outside her apartment, he’d openly gawked at her for so long that she felt herself blushing, unaccustomed to his prolonged, undivided attention. 

“Maybe we should stay in?” he’d suggested playfully, struggling to tear his eyes away from the exposed, pantyhose-free skin on her thighs. 

It’s still new enough to be just a little bit awkward. Innuendo-laced jokes that have flown freely between them for years suddenly aren’t jokes anymore, and they haven’t yet established a new rhythm of being together that makes it clear when sex is or is not on the table. But three hours and twice that many drinks in, he’s slipping his hand up under her skirt in the middle of the dance floor, playing with the hem of her panties and shouting his intentions in her ear over the music. 

She can feel people looking at them. Frohike for certain, though Byers and Langly are polite enough not to stare. Even the other partygoers, people she has never met and will likely never see again, give them long glances that tell her they are behaving inappropriately. Later, she will be horrified, but with bass thumping in her chest, vodka burning hot in her belly, and Mulder’s erection grinding against her hip, she can’t be bothered to care. 

She loops her arms around his neck, towing herself up enough to press her mouth to the shell of his ear.

“I have to pee,” she slurs, her toes intermittently losing contact with the floor as he pulls her close with an arm around her waist. 

He releases her, and when she turns away from him to head for the bathroom he delivers a firm slap to her ass, which makes her squeal with surprise. He stays hot on her heels all the way to the bathroom door, and when he follows her in she doesn’t feel inclined to object. With the door closed and the music muted, the degree of her inebriation becomes more apparent and she touches the backs of her fingers to her flaming cheeks. 

“Don’t let me drink any more,” she mumbles, hiking her skirt up around her hips. 

“Got it,” Mulder replies with a cheesy thumbs-up, leaning heavily against the bathroom counter. 

She’s about to pull her panties down when she realizes she has an audience. 

“Are you going to watch?” she asks, aiming for sarcasm.

“Can I?” he shoots back, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Turn around,” she says, swirling her index finger in a circle. 

He complies, and she watches the back of his head as she empties her bladder. When he hears the toilet flush he looks over his shoulder, his eyes wet and bleary, and watches her tug her skirt back down. 

“You should wear that more often,” he says as he approaches her, taking her by the hips and pushing her up against the bathroom counter.

“Where would I possibly wear this?” she quips. 

Mulder thrusts his hips gently against her, kissing the side of her neck. 

“My apartment,” he says, his tongue thick. 

They start to kiss, slow and sloppy, and she feels brazen enough to palm him over his jeans. 

“Is that an offer?” he asks against her cheek, his fingernails digging into the back of her thighs. 

“Maybe,” she answers noncommittally, though she’s already unbuttoning his fly. 

He grabs both her hands and moves them away, and even through her drunken haze she feels embarrassed. 

“Now I have to pee,” he says with a chagrined little smile. “Just give me one quick second.”

He takes one step to the left and proceeds to unzip his fly, and Scully watches as he pulls out his half-hard cock and aims it at the bowl. He looks over at her, swaying slightly, and smirks. 

“I can’t pee when I’m hard, stop being sexy,” he says with an appreciative leer. 

“My apologies,” she says as she moves to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “This better?” 

The only thing strange about it is how un-strange it is. Given, she’s bordering on sloppy drunk. After what feels like a very long time has passed, she runs her palms down the front of his body until her hands collide with his, and she feels that he is no longer erect. 

“Is this a service you offer?” he asks, moving his hands so that they lay over the top of hers mid shaft as though showing her how to work the controls. 

She hums, a non-answer, but she also doesn’t move away. She feels a rush beneath his skin under the tips of her fingers before she hears it hit the water in the toilet, and it should be strange but somehow it isn’t. 

He doesn’t bother putting himself away when he’s done. She strokes him back to life, and he rucks up her skirt again before he bends her over the counter beside the sink. He doesn’t take her panties off or pull them down, he just tugs them to the side and forces himself into her in one swift thrust, watching her face in the mirror. 

Someone pounds on the door, but it’s absorbed into the bass vibrating the walls and the staccato slap of his skin against her ass cheeks as he takes up a harried pace. Their eyes are both on the mirror, on each other, her hands laid flat on the counter top and his spreading her ass cheeks apart so he can steal intermittent looks at what he’s doing to her. She’s not sure she’s ever behaved so badly in her life, and it goes straight to her cunt. 

“I’m gonna come,” she announces loudly, and his eyes roll back in his head. 

He barely manages to stay upright as she explodes around him, leaning over her for balance as a stream of profanities hits her ear and his cum runs down the insides of her thighs.

There’s another knock, much more insistent, and they hear Frohike’s irritated voice warning them that he’s going to pop the lock in about ten seconds. Scully scrambles to pull her skirt back down while Mulder falls against the glass shower door behind him as he struggles to get his still-hard cock back into his jeans. The lock pops and the noise of the party bursts into the room, along with a very disgruntled Frohike, and Scully pushes past him before he has a chance to speak, disappearing back into the party.  

Mulder finds her in a corner of the kitchen a few minutes later, guzzling a glass of water. 

“Hey, partner,” he says with an accusatory smile. “Thanks for sticking with me back there.”

“Sorry,” she says, wincing.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, his eyes flashing down the length of her body. 

“A cab from here to my place won’t be cheap on a Saturday night.”

Mulder shrugs. 

“My place is closer. Plus, I think you promised me you’d wear that skirt to my apartment.” 

“Did I?” she asks, smiling over the rim of her water glass. “I won’t have any clean clothes to change into, though,” she points out. 

“Sounds perfect,” he says, then grabs her hand and makes for the front door.  

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #smut #xfiles #the xfiles

[is-on-its-way]

Love in the dark

Ao3

Mulder and Scully and their 5/6 year old go see the Eclipse lol

Setting: Some dirt road in Maine

Kids name: Luna Lark Mulder Scully... don't @ me I don't know. Or do @ me with a better name suggestion.

note: bubele is pronounced bub-eh-lah (My head canon is Mulder learned some NYC yiddish from his dad's parents.)

❂❂❂

“Quick Lula, we have to hurry! He said unbuckling her from her carseat “Are you ready to run?”

“Yeah!” she squealed as she hopped down from her carseat. He took her tiny hand and helped her step down from the 4 Runner to the gravel dirt road. She lept out and swung from his arm as he said “Woah!” And she squealed in delight.

“Come on you two!” Scully said as she threw a pack over her shoulder from the open window at the back of the car.

She started into the field of lush green grass from the dirt road and looked back at them as they walked towards her. She waited with her hand out for Luna to grab.

They walked her hand in hand, one on either side, lifting her over the hollow where road met pasture. They continued on into the middle of the field surrounded by trees.

Luna looked up at Scully “Can I have the bubbles now, mommy?”

“Yes, my love” Scully said digging in the pack and producing a large pink bottle of bubbles. She unscrewed it partly and handed it to Luna, who took it and started waving it around attempting to make bubbles as she ran.

Mulder looked up at the sun hand over his brow. Then at his watch, “Shouldn’t be long now maybe 10 minutes. We really made it just in time huh?” He smiled down at Scully

She shook her head and said “We made it thats all that matters” she was taking a mustard yellow striped blanket out of the pack and trying to unfurl it on the ground.

“Youre sure this is in the totality zone?” She asked

“Yup, I triple checked before we left this morning and put the coordinates directly into the maps.” Mulder grabbed a side of the blanket and they laid it down. Luna danced around happily singing

“It's a perfectly beautiful day for playing A perfectly beautiful day for staying outside It's a perfectly beautiful day…”

Scully looked at her, hands on her hips with a look of complete devotion and affection.

Mulder looked at Scully watching their baby girl with the same exact expression on his face.

She felt his gaze and looked at him “You’re the one who said no shows past 2001.”

“Mr. Rogers is a classic, Scully. Much better than the swill they call children’s programming nowadays.”

“Uh huh.” She said skeptically, tucking her chin, looking up at him, hands on her hips.

He went to her and swept her up in his arms and kissed her. She was irresistible when she was annoyed.

She exhaled an “Oh” and melted into him, opening her mouth for him.

They broke apart and Scully put a hand to his cheek as she turned to keep watching Luna from his arms.

“Lets get the food.” He said giving her temple a kiss.

They sat on the blanket and Mulder took a bottle of sparkling wine, tupperwares of crackers, cheese, and sliced apples pears and raspberries out.

Scully took the cover off the fruit and took one before calling Luna over.

“Luna Lark! Come get a snack before it gets dark!”

“Hey a rhyme!” Mulder exclaimed, as Scully smiled.

She galloped over and accepted a slice of apple. She stood with apple in one hand and the bubbles in the other “Its gonna be nighttime?”

“Yes, the sun will be blotted out forever” Mulder said

Scully hit him in the shoulder “Mulderrr!” She tried not to smile as she took the bubbles from Luna, “Poppa’s teasing you my love. You know how we can see the moon in the daytime sometimes?”

She nodded, looking worried.

“Well this time well be able to see the moon directly in front of the sun.”

She looked confused, Mulder added. “The sun will hide behind the moon and it’ll get dark but then the moon will keep moving like it always does, and the sun will come back out.”

She pondered this and said “Not forever?”

“No, not forever.” Scully shook her head.

Content with this she walked onto the blanket and settled between them, munching her apple.

Mulder handed her a raspberry, then a cracker. “Do you want cheese?”

She nodded. He added a piece of yellow cheese to the cracker and she bit into it.

Scully fished out a small metal water bottle covered in dinosaurs floating around space. She flipped the straw up and handed it to Luna, who took a long drink. Scully pushed her wild sun bleached brown hair behind her ear.

Mulder handed Scully a metal cup of the bubbly wine, she took it and they clinked their cups together. “Thank you” she said.

The daylight dimmed to paint the meadow in an amber light. Luna looked up at the sun.

Scully reached to cover her eyes and said “Don’t look at the sun without your sunglasses.”

Mulder dug in his pocket and produced paper glasses that looked like 3d movie glasses, but instead of red and blue they had dark black lenses. He put them on Luna and tucked them behind her ears as she scrunched her nose. “There you go”

“Its all dark!” She said reaching a hand out in front of her

Scully giggled as she took the pair Mulder handed her. “Look up at the sun, can you see the moon yet?”

“No” Luna said sounding bored

“I can” Mulder said just on this side of it. He taped Lunas right shoulder.

They all watched as the moon slowly made its way across the sun. Luna exclaiming when she finally saw the crescent shape carved out of the sun.

Can I lay down? Im tired of looking up” Luna said with a sigh.

Mulder chuckled “Good idea Lula.” He moved the food down the blanket and laid down as Luna snuggled into him, head on his outstretched arm. Scully looked down at them with a smile and pulled Lunas hand to her mouth to give her tiny fingers a kiss. She joined them laying back on the blanket putting he cheek against Lunas chubby arm. Mulder found her hand and entwined his fingers in hers, as they all watched the crescent get smaller and smaller through their glasses.

When the moon had crossed completely over the sun and the last glare of sunlight had disappeared behind the moon, Mulder announced “We can take our glasses off.”

Scully sat up and said “Listen Lou”

Luna fell silent and Mulder sat up. “Crickets. They think its night”

He took the glasses off and muttered “Good night” under his breath. “This is so weird” they were in complete darkness. And when they looked up at where the sun should be, they saw only a halo of soft light.

“Im scared Mommy” Luna said reaching for Scully.

“Its okay my love.” Scully said taking her into her lap and hugging her tightly to her, kissing the top of her head.

Mulder said, “Its just nighttime Lula. It will pass in a minute. Do you want me to tell you a story until it gets light again?”

She nodded in Scully arms and Scully said “She does”

“Tell me about auntie Sam in the stars”

“Oh, okay.”

Scully found his hand on the blanket.

“My sister Sam, your aunt, was the funniest and smartest kid my parents had. She was witty and sweet and she loved to bike around our town with me. And we would get ice cream every day after I picked her up from her dance classes. And she’d throw baseballs for me to hit when none of my friends could play. And sometimes our mother would make us go hunt for dinner.

Luna giggled, a wild giggle that reminded him of Scully’s laugh. She always giggled at the thought of her dad as a kid hunting for his own dinner.

“So we’d go clamming and raking for mussels on the beach. And our mom would make a big pot of pasta with butter.”

“Yuummm” She said “and then she went to live in the stars?”

“She did. She went to live in the stars.”

“And if you look up and see a twinkling star thats auntie Sam saying hi.” Scully said

She’s up there looking down on us now, during the daytime, can you believe it?” Mulder asked “Look up find her Luna!”

She looked up with a great big smile on her face, and then pointed with a tiny finger "I see her!"

"You do?!" Mulder said grabbing her hand and miming eating it.

Luna giggled and squirmed in Scully arms. 

They watched the sky for a while before Luna said

 “She's with aunty Missy.”

“Yes bubele, with Aunty Missy” He said softly.

“Will I go live with them?”

“What do you mean baby?” Scully asked her.

“Sometimes I go up there too.”

Mulder felt Scully’s fear in the darkness.

“No bubele you’re not going to go live with them, because you live with us.”

“Okay” she said in a small voice.

“But uh, next time you see Sam, tell her I say hi, okay?”

“Okay poppa” She said.

Mulder wrapped his arm around Scully and kissed her hair.

“We’ve got extraordinary kids huh” he whispered into her ear.

She leaned into his shoulder and sighed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"My one in seven point nine billion." he said as he leaned down to kiss her lips with a smile.

@today-in-fic

#x files #txf #msr fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #xfiles

[leiascully]

If you're still taking prompts: bower.

(Hope you're feeling a bit better, or will soon!)

They're in a nameless hotel in the middle of the country. They've changed cars again - it's a little pickup this time, with a camper shell. Innocuous, among the backpackers and backcountry aficionados. Scully sits on the motel bed. It's not a bed for lounging. She flips through the channels on the tv and settles on a nature documentary.

"The bowerbird is unique among passerines," says a cultured voice. On the screen, a blue-black bird bobs up and down among stalks of dry grass. "The male crafts a structure to house his mate and decorates it, using found objects to accessorize it in a way that will please his potential mate."

"Well, he can't go to Hobby Lobby," Scully murmurs back to the screen. There's a tapping at the door. She gets up to flip back the privacy latch.

"Who can't?" Mulder asks, coming in.

"The bowerbird," Scully tells him. "He reminds me of you."

"I can't go to Hobby Lobby?"

"Can you?" He shrugs and hands her a greasy paper bag. "I don't know how you heard that."

"I've had you bugged for years," Mulder says easily. "I thought you knew."

"That would explain things." She opens the bag. Inside is a sandwich wrapped in plastic, a brownie likewise swaddled, and a heap of loose potato chips. Everything looks homemade. Mulder has his own bag. There's already a chip crunching between his teeth. His lips are glossy with oil.

"So why do I remind you of the bowerbird? My glossy plumage? My dance moves?" He bobs his dark head.

"The way you used to put things up around the office to entice me." Scully eats a chip. They're very good. "Fewer pebbles, more articles clipped from unedited magazines, but the theory is the same. You lured me in with your slideshows."

"That might be the only crime I've ever been accused of that I'm actually guilty," he says thoughtfully, unwrapping his sandwich.

"Breaking and entering," she says. "Criminal trespass. Tampering with and/or destroying government property. Assaulting a witness."

"I wasn't accused of that last one," he corrects her.

"You did do it." Did Roche deserve it? That's not for her to say.

"I didn't say I didn't." He takes a bite out of his sandwich. "You're one to talk, Miss Contempt of Congress."

"I'd do it again," she says vehemently.

"I know you would," he tells her, and for a moment, she feels like they're back in the basement office, making a stand, instead of on the run.

#my fic sort of #thanks for the prompt! #and the well wishes #not sure this is what you asked for haha

[unremarkablehouse]

Found an old interview Gillian did as the original series ended. Love that her top 6 memories are some of the most iconic romantic MSR moments 💜

—————————————————

March 2002

Question: Now that the X-files are ending, can you tell us what are some of your favorite memories of working on the show?

GA: Some of my favorite memories of working on the show (and not necessarily in order of importance or weight or much of anything but the order in which I remembered them.)

1. Directing "all things."

2. Singing 'Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog' to Mulder in "Detour".

3. Shooting "Triangle."

4. Shooting "Cops."

5. Shooting the kiss/bee scene in the movie.

6. Shooting the scene where Mulder shows Scully how to hit a baseball in "The Unnatural."

7. Shooting "Bad Blood" but especially the autopsy scene.

8. Doing the elephant autopsy in "Fearful Symmetry."

9. In the first season the crew used to crowd around a t.v. screen on Friday nights and watch the show over lunch. That was fun and exciting for us.

10. I remember when the casting director told me I had the job after the final network audition and I had to drive a fellow auditioning actress that I knew back to her hotel knowing that I had the job and not letting on or being able to talk about it.

11. Shooting the graveside scene in the pilot in forced freezing rain at some ungodly hour in the morning and trying to remember my name let alone whole paragraphs of dialogue.

12. Shooting scenes in the snow in Vancouver wearing a skirt and high heals and trying not to slide down hill...or having to use an umbrella so that my hair did not have to be blown out before every take.

13. Telling David in his trailer that I was pregnant and him telling me that he felt his knees buckle. Blue, as a puppy was lying sick on his bed behind him, having just been spayed.

14. Watching Jim Rose do his famous genital tricks in his trailer during the shooting of Humbug.

15. In one of the very first episodes, there's a scene where Mulder and Scully are to look at red lights in the sky that may be UFO's and follow their flying path. David and I were standing on a windy hilltop looking out onto the pitch black heavens with the cameras on our faces and being directed where to look in EXACTLY the same place at the same time (up down left right)...but with NOTHING TO LOOK AT AS A GUIDE! It was absurd.

16. Shooting Scully and Mulder's final kiss scene at the end of "Existence."

17. Shooting the dance sequence at the end of "The Post-Modern Prometheus."

18. I remember sitting at a wooden table with David on the set when Pendrell was shot, and David telling me about this date he had with a woman whose name he would not tell me, but it was kind of like the tea that you drink.

19. Sitting in a luncheon booth on the North Vancouver lot with David Nutter and for the very first time going over a script with a director beat by beat and how exhilarating that was to be creative that way and have someone care what my feedback and impressions and instincts were. The script was "Beyond The Sea."

20. Shooting the scene where Scully's stomach is pumped with air in an abduction sequence and trying not to reveal that it was actually a pregnant belly being shot. I'll have to show that scene to Piper one of these years.

21. Lying in a hospital bed on set ten days after giving birth to Piper. Hooked up to tubes and wires and drifting in and out of sleep while they shot around me and being wheeled to and from the bed in a wheelchair. Surreal. I'd just been there!

22. Shooting a scene in a rowboat in the middle of a lake all by myself for hours and my lactating breasts getting so swollen that I thought I might explode.

23. Shooting a scene in an episode about cats where Scully has to be attacked in the face by a cat but I am allergic so they built a cat on a stick covered in bunny fur whose arms could be operated by some poor special effects guy. So here I am "struggling" with this fake bunny/cat in my face pretending to get scratched and be terrified when the fake fur keeps sticking to my lipstick and going up my nose and Kim Manners and I cannot stop cracking up at the ludicrousness of it all.

24. Lying on the floor eight months pregnant and being pushed by someone across the floor to simulate me "crawling" because I was so big and my belly was in the way and I could not do it myself. I think it was "Duane Barry."

25. Sitting in the back of a jeep on one of the stages pretending to be attacked by imaginary (CGI) green bugs who are going to cocoon us and suck our life out of us...flailing away at them with all my might and then whenever we cut, turning to a big garbage can to my left and throwing up because I had horrible morning sickness.

26. When Chris Carter walked into my hospital room a day or two after Piper was born and was stopped in his tracks by the sight of this living being propped up beside me. We sat in silence for a long time.

27. Talking to Chris on some payphone outside some restaurant a couple nights before I was to go back to Network for the final audition, and him giving me notes on how to dress more 'streamlined' for the Network Execs... I borrowed a suit.

28. Talking to David for the very first time outside the audition as he chatted up the girls, and commenting on the fact that I was from N.Y. and not really meaning FROM FROM, but the disappointment which flashed across his face when I qualified that I had only actually lived there a couple years. He moved on to someone else.

29. Experiencing Rob Bowman directing for the first time, setting up elaborate shots and the crew standing around thinking what is this new guy doing spending all this time with these fancy angles...cut to...the established norm. And thank God.

30. The last day of shooting in Vancouver when the make-up artist had to redo my make-up three and four times before every take cause I was crying so much. I imagine the same will be said in a little over a month. We won't get anything shot.

The End

GA: I know it seems ridiculous that I might only have thirty memories over nine years but I am afraid that is the best I can do and still have you all read it before the end of the month.

#the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #gillian anderson #txf #david duchovny #x files #gillovny #mulder and scully #random x files deep dive

[agent-troi]

Eight Nights of Mulder, Night 1: Gold

Summary: Mulder helps Scully put on her new earrings as they’re getting ready to go to an FBI gala. (inspired by the gorgeous earrings I bought this past weekend only to find it's almost impossible for me to put them on by myself🤣)

@eightnightsofmulder @today-in-fic

ao3 link

“Mulder, can you come over here and help me with this?”

He paused in the midst of tying his tie and poked his head into Scully’s bathroom. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

“Not if you get in here and help me.” She sighed and gestured at the shiny gold hoops dangling from her earlobes. “It’s these goddamn new earrings. They looked so gorgeous in the store, but when you’re actually wearing them it’s impossible to find the right angle to connect both ends together. I need you to close them for me.”

Mulder grinned and cracked his knuckles dramatically. “My sausage fingers and I are at your service.”

Scully rolled her eyes as he stepped closer and gently grasped both ends of the little gold hoop, being as careful as he could not to tug too hard on her earlobe. “Where…?”

“It’s supposed to just slide right in.”

Mulder leaned in closer as he slid the narrow end of the earring into the wider end, noticing as he did so how incredibly wonderful she smelled. “Is that a new perfume?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said affirmatively as he moved to her other ear, lingering over her neck as his fingers danced delicately through the wisps of hair that lay there. “Jasmine and honey.”

“I like it.” He closed her other earring and gently nudged his nose into her hair. She giggled, and he slid his arms around her as he made his way down to her neck and nuzzled it, which only made her giggle harder. 

“We’re gonna be late,” she admonished him while simultaneously pressing her body against his.

“Don’t care anymore,” he murmured into her skin. “In fact, I think we should skip this thing altogether.”

“You rebel.”

“Your rebel.”

He felt her giggle again in his arms, and he thought his heart might burst. How did he get to be so lucky? 

“Skinner’s gonna be mad if we don’t come again this year,” she said.

Mulder shifted his position so she could feel his erection poking through his pants. “Trust me, coming is not going to be a problem.”

Scully let out a soft, sensual moan, and he somehow managed to get even harder. “Not for me, either…”

#today in fic #eightnightsofmulder #x files #fox mulder #dana scully #mulder x scully #msr #season of secret sex #gold #hanukkah

[randomfoggytiger]

"The Dead Are Everywhere, Scully"

(Fictober, Day 1)

*****

He wakes alone in a field, his body having shed its flesh and left only its bones. The words “putridity and liquescence” come to mind, or to the back of it; and he sits up, knowing he has something to do. There should be someone else here, he thinks as he stands.

His memory is as empty as this afterlife, fields of tombstones stretching around him with names he knows he should know but does not. 

Skeletons, he thinks, skeletons are the link. He shovels out thought after thought, leaving open graves of dead girls, dead sisters, dead fathers, and dead mothers as he pushes the boundaries of his mind in pursuit. 

And like a bright flash it comes to him: “So first they're going to eat, then they're going to drink, then they're going to dance--"

He moves away from heaps of upturned dust and decay into a happier time-- a gray, distant recollection of two souls swaying in sync, celebrating life and happy endings. 

He needs to find his dance partner. 

*****

She wakes entombed in choking sand. It sifts through her teeth, collects in her crevices, grinds against her joints. The soft gauze of her funeral dress-- hers or someone else's-- twists around her legs and arms as she bangs the sarcophagus lid for freedom. There is no pain since the nerves spreading from her spinal cord have dropped away; but there is panic and fear and failure, Death and darkness and defeat.

Death has captured her in unbreakable chains: immortality, the curse of eternal life. I won't let this thing beat me echoes, hollow, in the fruitless weight of nothingness. 

“I can’t."  

But there is another echo that spits out defiance: Yes, you can; and strength and courage and hope stir in its wake. 

Her knuckles crack, her fingers scrabble at dangerous angles, her wrists snap; but she mentally chants over the sounds of failure-- I have the strength of your beliefs, Mulder you’re the only one I trust, I won’t let this thing beat me, I won’t let this thing beat me-- 

And the lid slides off and the wind rushes in and the sand blows away. 

*****

They reunite in a graveyard, rain racing down the curved edges of their new perimeters.   

“What are we doing here?” she calls across the distance still separating them. 

“We’re having a dance, partner.” 

“Mulder--” and both of them stop as the truth opens before them. 

He breaks the silence: “Well, c’mon, Scully. I think we got a few twirls left in these old bones of ours.” 

His infectious enthusiasm and her reluctant amusement finally meet in the middle. 

“Which ones, Mulder?”

“You tell me.” 

She does. 

*****

It is only them, the rain, and the mud. 

“Mulder, I don’t understand it, any of it. How did this happen?” 

They slow, the rain pours, the mud thickens around their shifting ankles. 

“I don’t think we’ll ever know, Scully. Once I would have said ‘I think it’s about fate.'” They carefully maneuver around the awful deaths that time conjures up. “And you later argued for free will over fate on a certain later Monday. But I think we were both right, or both wrong, or both right and wrong; because we’re standing in a place where neither fate nor free will has power.” 

“Then what does, Mulder?” She almost drifts away before he draws her back. 

“I think it’s a matter of perspective. That we’ll never know, really. But one thing we do know. That you and I are Mr. and Mrs. Spooky--”

“Mulder--”

“And that we’ve beaten the odds, Scully. That we’re here together. That we found each other. That it feels right even if this existence doesn’t make sense, or at least if it doesn’t make sense yet.” 

She lets him freestyle them both a little while she thinks. “King Spooky.”

“Hm?” 

“You and I alone, together. King Spooky and Queen of the Dead.” 

He celebrates her move with a dip. “Now let’s shimmy, Queen Spooky. Get those little legs moving.” 

She raised a perfectly poised pointer finger in reproof. “That was a debatable topic even in life.” 

“You can’t dress up what Death has dressed down, Scully.” 

“And ten to one you can’t dance to it?” she asks, remembering another of his phrases from another world. 

“Well, I like to think that our perspective has managed to beat a few odds. Wouldn’t you?”  

A thoughtful, settling silence: “Yes, it did.” 

And they shake the cold from their bones in tune with the rain.

*****

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, and others who have encouraged me to start writing. This is take two; and I really, really like how it turned out.

Thank you to all the mutuals and anons who were so kind on my first fic (Son of Egypt); and thank you to @perpetually-weirdening for (probably not meaning to) getting the idea of immortal Scully stuck in my head.

And my thanks to David Duchovny for the line he wrote in Hollywood A.D.-- it made a wonderful title; and inspired me to wrangle my floating thoughts into one coherent story.

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

#txf #fic #Fictober #Day 1 #2023 #“The Dead Are Everywhere Scully” #my first Fictober! #xfiles #xf fanfic #x-files #the x files #Mulder #Scully #AU #immortal #super proud of this one #slowly trekking along #as I find my “voice” #getting there step by step #mine

[carefulfears]

rain king!

this episode has such a special place in my heart because i was taking “intro to weather and climate” when i watched it and i was exhausted after like 7 hours of doing weather lab homework and came home to watch txf and the episode was about weather lol. and it makes me laugh so much

the rain king is such a classic classic x files episode in that the setting and the case and mulder’s theories are all very silly but it just has such an enjoyable energy to it, and it has a cast of supporting characters who are so memorable.

season six is talked about a lot as being the season of the “fanfic tropes”, and the rain king is one of the more prominent examples, making it also an example of what makes season six stand out to me so much. season six is a twisted romcom, with every trope warped by the overarching narrative of the season.

this episode follows a man whose unexpressed feelings towards the woman he loves have built up so much over the years that it’s spilling over into rain. it's spinning around them in tornadoes. it's freezing into hail.

mulder and scully are mistaken for a couple by everyone they meet in this little town. they have to share a motel room. there was only one bed. the climax of the story is at a dance in a high school.

and mulder spends the night in her motel room doing nothing but talking about cows, then gives dating advice to a meteorologist the next day. scully gives a speech in a bathroom about falling in love with your best friend. about how those are the best relationships, about how a switch just flips, and suddenly they're the only person that you could ever imagine yourself with. and then goes out and stands awkwardly next to hers.

these are the most delusional people in the world, you truly can throw every trope at them and it won't make a dent.

they'll stand under the downpour of repressed love, feel the consequences of harbored feelings, and hop back in the car to the airport. it's so delicious.

and don’t ever forget the added context of s6, that through all of this, scully wants to have his babies SOOOOO BADDDDDD

#my favorite scene in rain king #is when scully hears that he's giving dating advice to holman #and she just squints and goes DEAD quiet #her life flashed before her eyes #truly the beginning of scully's 'my life is psychological torture' s6 era #thank you for the ask!! #sorry people are in your inbox lol #asks #the rain king #msr #kae meta

[numinousmysteries]

Dancing the Tandava (10/10)

We've reached the end. Thank you for all your kind words, likes, and reblogs. I'm so happy you enjoyed this story and I'm thankful this fandom is still alive and kicking <3

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Geneva, Switzerland 2023

The rumbling stops abruptly. Mulder opens his eyes and sees that light, both from the fluorescent overhead and the window, has returned to the room. He’s still huddled under the desk with Scully and Hannah but there’s no longer any debris strewn on the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Scully says, her voice taking on the high-pitched tone he knows she only uses when she’s faced with something she truly can’t explain.

Equally baffled, he shrugs as the three of them get up from the floor. They’re in the same office as they were before, but there’s no sign the room was just rocked by a seismic quake. Instead, the desk is neatly organized. The messy piles of paper are gone, along with the bael tree in the corner of the room.

“Look at this,” Hannah says, holding up a framed photo on the desk. Bellona is in the picture alongside an olive-skinned woman around his age and three teenagers who must be their children. All five are dressed in hiking gear, smiling atop a mountain.

Mulder tries the door again and this time it opens easily. Hannah and Scully follow him out into the hallway. There’s no sign of Bellona or any of his followers. The door closes behind them and he notices the nameplate bearing Bellona’s name is gone and is replaced with one that reads “Dr. Samita Shah.”

Hannah and Scully spot the nameplate as well and the three of them stare at each other in bewilderment.

“We should check the collider tunnel,” Hannah says.

Hannah doesn’t have the authority to access the LHC tunnel as an intern, but after a few texts to her friend Emmanuelle from the control center, she’s able to swipe her ID card at the ATLAS entry point. Her card grants her access to the elevator, too. The giant elevator lurches into action and they begin their long descent hundreds of feet underground.

The elevator opens into the tunnel that houses the LHC. There’s a narrow walkway along the side of the curved wall, tracing the body of the collider that extends for miles ahead of them.

Mulder spots movement up ahead and the three of them sprint down the walkway toward the shadowy shape.

“It’s William,” Scully shouts as they get closer. Mulder steps aside to let her reach William first.

Their son is on his hands and knees with his head bowed.

“Don’t move,” Scully cautions, as she checks him for signs of injury. “Did you hit your head?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he says. “I’m okay.”

Mulder joins Scully as they gently help him up to his feet. “I’m in the LHC tunnel? At CERN?” He asks.

“Yeah, buddy,” Mulder says.

“And it’s 2023?”

Mulder confirms the year for him as Scully keeps a firm grip on William’s forearm, both to keep him steady and ensure he won’t disappear again.

“Mom,” William pulls her into a hug. “You saved the world.”

“She has a habit of doing that,” Mulder says, embracing both of them.. He’s reminded of the night William was born, finding Scully and the baby in that dilapidated room, and feeling so overwhelmed by fear and love. His heart hammers as he squeezes his family tighter, unwilling to let them go.

“William!” He hears Hannah shouting and heading towards them.

William frees himself of his parents’ grasp and runs past them along the walkway to meet Hannah. Mulder and Scully watch as Hannah goes to hug him but William takes her face in his hands and kisses her on the lips. They can see Hannah’s shock melting into joy as she grabs him around the waist and draws him in closer. Their lips draw apart but their faces stay close as they whisper to each other. Mulder can’t hear everything they’re saying but he can make out a few “missed yous” and “love yous”

“They make a good team,” Scully says quietly.

“They remind me of us. I guess declarations of love following near-death time-travel experiences run in the family.”

She smirks at him but rises on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, imprinting the spot where she once landed a right hook on a ghost ship. Her lips are warm and soft on his skin, a far gentler sensation than the one her sharp knuckles left back in 1939.

William turns back towards them and calls out, “Let’s get out here.”

William and Hannah walk back to the elevator holding hands. Mulder smiles at Scully, happy to see the relief in her eyes, then guides her in the direction they came from with his hand on the small of her back.

***

Once Scully feels confident that William doesn’t have a head injury or other serious physical damage from his disappearance, the foursome make their way to CERN’s Restaurant 1 cafeteria for dinner. William fills them in on his trip to Camp Hero in 1993. A Google search on Hannah’s phone fails to turn up any articles on Samita Shah’s death. Instead, she’s currently listed as a visiting scientist at CERN, on a one-year fellowship while her husband, Vincent Bellona, continues his work as a tenured physics professor at Princeton.

“It worked, mom,” William says to Scully, smiling. “You convinced Dr. Shah not to join the project.”

“Apparently,” Scully says. “But what I don’t understand is, why do we have no memory of this? If we were able to change the past by altering Shah and Bellona’s timeline, why don’t dad and I remember meeting you in the past? Or any of this happening in 1993?”

“They must’ve wiped our memory before we left Camp Hero,” Mulder says. “The military had that technology back then. They did it to me at Ellens Air Base on one of our very first cases together.”

“Or we could be dealing with a multiverse scenario,” Hannah says.

William looks at her agape. “We must be if you’re seriously proposing that. I think I like you even more in this universe.”

“Ha, ha,” Hannah intones sarcastically and William winks back at her.

“Anyway, I can’t believe how young the two of you looked,” William says to his parents in between bites of his burger. “And even though you were just partners, I could totally tell you liked each other. It was kind of cute.”

“Oh, William,” Scully says. “I can only imagine which ridiculous suit I was wearing, or what tie your dad had on. We must’ve seemed terminally uncool.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call you guys cool now,” William counters. Mulder playfully flicks a piece of paper straw wrapper at his son. William adeptly dodges it and the balled-up paper flies over this shoulder.

Hannah pokes Wiliam’s bicep with her finger. “Don’t tease them,” she says. “Your parents are awesome. Look how they helped me find you, and how they helped you back in 1993 when they didn’t even know you.”

“They got to know me,” William says, smiling wryly at Mulder. “It took my mom a little more time to believe me, but she got there.”

Scully glances down and Mulder rests a hand on her thigh trying to comfort her. “I wouldn’t have expected any less,” he says.

“It’s just that now—” Scully starts, her voice breaking as a breath catches in her throat. “I couldn’t imagine life without you. We were so scared when you disappeared.”

The mood of the table sombers until William stands up and comes around to the other side to hug his mother. Still seated, she rests her head against his stomach and embraces him around the waist. “I would love you in any universe,” she whispers, pulling back slightly to wipe tears from her eyes.

“I know,” William says, smoothing down her auburn hair. “I think we’d always recognize each other. You too, dad.” He smiles at Mulder then over the table at Hannah. “And you too, Hannah.” Across their trays of half-eaten food, Mulder sees Hannah blushing.

Since finding out William had disappeared, Mulder’s been running on adrenaline, not giving himself a moment to pause and consider the possibility that they’d never see their son again. Now, the relief washes over him like a crashing wave and he doesn’t fight the tears as they come.

So much has changed in thirty years since a skeptical, red-headed spy sauntered into his office haughty with the confidence that comes from never seeing the supposedly immutable laws of nature mutate before your eyes. They tested and challenged each other and forged an elemental bond that couldn’t be shattered with all the energy the world’s largest particle accelerator could muster.

So much has changed for the better. They have a miracle of a son. He just heard Scully essentially admit to believing in alternate universes, although he has no intention of pointing that out to her. He hasn’t abandoned his quest for answers, but he’s found that unraveling the mysteries of the universe can coexist with loving and being loved. It’s more than he ever thought he deserved, and it’s all he could ever want for his son.

#xfiles #txf #xf fanfic #msr #xfiles fanfic #x files #the x files