#Post MSIV

[television-overload]

Part II

Read on AO3

Fall 2024.

“Hope, sweetheart, come away from the window. It's bedtime,” he said, sitting down on the frilly pink quilt on her bed with a bounce. His joints screamed out in reminder of his age, easing a little at the softness of the mattress. Hope didn't appear to be listening, a trait Scully claimed he had himself to thank for. 

He tried again. 

“Hey. Come pick out a book,” he said, kicking his feet up and settling back against the headboard.

Her pouty face, so like her mother's, turned back to him at last. “But daddy—”

“No buts, pumpkin. Mommy said I let you stay up too late last time I put you to bed. Do you want to get me in trouble?”

Still, she didn't move.

“But Daddy, look!” she said, facing the window once more with purpose. “There's a man out in the field.”

A wash of cold fear flooded his veins at her words, his mind suddenly on high alert. 

“What?” he asked, standing to his feet faster than he had in years. He was at her side in an instant, leaning over her head to peek through the curtains of her bedroom window. 

“There's a man on the baseball field!” she said again, pointing one tiny finger at the slightly overgrown homemade baseball diamond he had built years ago.

His fingers tingled with electricity, adrenaline pumping as he tried desperately to think of innocuous reasons someone might be trespassing on their remote backyard.

He squinted, the rapidly fading daylight making it hard to see much of anything. But sure enough, a dark figure lurked in the field. Mulder's stomach turned over and over, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

It had been years since they’d dealt with something like this, and never since Hope had been born. He thought they’d finally been left alone. No more looking over their shoulders, as they had before.

He should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, lifting Hope into his arms with shaky hands, all without letting the unwelcome visitor out of his sight. Eventually, though, he had to turn away, a plan of action forming in his mind. “Scully?” he called, his hand resting on Hope's back.

She appeared in the doorway at the urgent sound of his voice, throwing open the door with thinly veiled alarm.

“Have the proximity sensors gone off?” he asked, crossing the room to bring her within arms reach.

“No,” she answered, brows furrowed in concern as Mulder placed their daughter into her arms. “What is it?”

“I'm gonna go check something out,” he said. She followed him with Hope into their room, watching as he dug around for a sweatshirt.

He could see she was nervous. “Mulder, take your—”

She didn't finish her sentence, mindful of the little ears that didn't need to hear it. But Mulder could finish it for her.

His weapon.

He nodded, opening the dusty lockbox on the dresser while Scully distracted their almost 6-year old. He strapped the pistol to his hip, its weight somehow unfamiliar. 

“Be careful,” she urged him, leaning in for a quick kiss. He pressed his lips to hers, then to Hope’s auburn hair, before rushing down the stairs.

He walked with a purpose across the crunching grass of their yard, clutching the cool metal of the gun in his palm. It was getting darker, and his eyes didn't work like they used to, but he kept a lookout for any sudden movements from the high, wild grass that grew along the edges of their property. He headed in the direction of the baseball field, pushing back overgrown weeds as he followed the trail. Chancing a look back, he glanced up at the house. Scully had turned out the light in Hope's second floor bedroom, hopefully to go take shelter somewhere safe until he gave them the all clear. The house was dark. Stars would begin to dot the sky any minute now.

He raised his gun into firing position, now only a few yards away from the clearing in which he’d built the field. He took a deep breath, then breached the thick reeds that kept him concealed.

“Stay where you are!” he yelled, lining up his target. The figure, clad mostly in black, flinched. “I mean it! Don't move a muscle!”

He slowly approached, absorbing every new detail as it came into focus. The man was wearing a black jacket, the hood thrown over his head to obscure his identity. The jeans he wore were dirty and faded, hanging slightly too loose on his narrow frame.

He turned suddenly, and Mulder's finger twitched on the trigger.

“I said—!”

He froze. The breath left his lungs with a woosh, and he almost dropped his weapon at the sudden numbness spreading throughout his limbs.

“William?” he choked out, lowering his pistol in horror.

“Hey,” the boy shrugged, hardly looking apologetic for the heart attack he’d almost given his father.

“I must be losing my mind,” Mulder said, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. It took more effort than usual to remain standing, his knees feeling like jelly.

“You're not crazy,” William—Jackson—said. He shoved his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly near the pitchers mound.

“But you—you're—”

“Dead?” Jackson guessed.

“Aren't you?”

Jackson shrugged again. “Legally? I guess so.”

That wasn't enough for Mulder, though. He'd seen things. He needed absolute confirmation.

“Is this a baseball field?” Jackson asked.

The simplicity of his question broke through the swirling maelstrom of his thoughts, and Mulder almost laughed. “Yeah,” he stuttered.

“Huh.” Jackson spun around, taking in the sight. “You know, I think I've seen this in a movie once.”

Mulder cleared his throat, which was suddenly feeling as dry as the dusty ground.

“Field of Dreams. 1989. Great film.”

Jackson wobbled his head side to side. “Eh. My dad was more of a football guy.”

Of course he was.

“So, then…”

“I'm not a ghost, if that's what you were going to ask,” Jackson interrupted. “I know you believe in that sort of thing.”

Well, that cleared that up. Sort of.

“You built this?”

He nodded. "Being wanted by the FBI really clears your schedule," he joked.

Jackson seemed to understand something about that. "Tell me about it,” he sighed. It broke Mulder’s heart to think his son had spent the last six years on the run, living the life he and Scully had before they settled here, in rural Virginia. The life they’d never wanted for their child.

“Jackson, what are you doing here?” he asked. As thrilled as he was to see that his son wasn't, in fact, dead, he still had no idea why he had come.

“I, uh… ran out of money,” he spoke uncomfortably, kicking idly at the dirt at his feet. 

Money. Money was easy. Mulder could handle money.

“Before I left home, I took my parents’ savings,” he started. “I've been able to get by, but I can't get work. I didn't finish high school, I technically don't exist…”

The phone in Mulder’s pocket buzzed. He felt dizzy, trying to come to terms with this new reality.

“I didn't know what to do,” Jackson finished, running a hand through his too-long hair.

Mulder sighed and held up a finger, fishing in his pocket for his phone. The screen lit up with a picture of Scully's face. He tapped the green answer button and brought the phone to his ear.

“Mulder?” her worried voice crackled over the line.

“Stand down, Scully, I'm alright,” he said.

“Who was it, Mulder?” she asked.

Mulder’s eyes flicked to the form of their son, biting his lip as he contemplated how much to tell her. “A surprise visitor,” he settled on. “He needs a place to stay.” Jackson tried to stop him there, but Mulder held up an ever more forceful hand, not taking no for an answer. “Could you make up the couch?” he asked.

Scully shakily promised she would, and then he hung up. He felt a little sorry for not giving her more of an explanation, but phone lines were never secure, and—as Jackson had so eloquently put it—he was supposedly dead. It was probably best that their enemies, should any still exist, continue to believe that lie for as long as possible. 

“Look, I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry. I'll go,” Jackson spoke, his body language suggesting that he was seconds away from fleeing.

Mulder rolled his eyes and placed a guiding hand on his son’s shoulder, applying firm pressure there. Yep, no baseball ghosts here. His son was all too real. “Shut up and follow me,” he said, pulling the strap of Jackson's duffel bag free from his shoulder and slinging it over his own. “We're not gonna leave you to fend for yourself. You're our son.”

“Yeah, but—”

Now he felt like he was talking to Hope, trying to convince her to go to bed at a reasonable time. “No buts. Come on.”

Jackson scowled, but dutifully followed along, stepping carefully over large divots in the dirt and patches of weeds that had grown in the absence of Mulder's care. 

“You know, this field needs some work,” the young man spoke, glancing over his shoulder at the overgrown field as they left it behind.

Mulder wanted to roll his eyes again, but that would just prove Scully right that their children had inherited his attitude (as if she didn’t roll her eyes at him a thousand times a day for the last 30 some years).

“Yeah, I haven't really had the time to keep it up, lately,” he answered instead. Since Hope was born, he'd almost forgotten about the field. He was too busy looking out for their spunky little miracle baby to even think about extensive yard work.

“I can imagine,” Jackson commented. 

Something told Mulder that the boy—the man— already knew about his sister. Perhaps he'd known before Scully even did. It was hard to fathom the two of them in the same vicinity. Jackson had been one chapter of their lives, which they’d believed to be closed. Hope was a new beginning. An entirely separate part of their lives, the same way they thought about their time on the X-Files together. 

It all became jumbled, now that Jackson had resurfaced.

Mulder shivered at the slight chill in the air, early autumn turning the leaves into an array of pleasing colors. This time of night, though, everything looked washed out and gray.

William. His son. Even he looked gray as a ghost in this light. He never did get around to installing lights on the field.

Needs some work, Jackson had said?

Mulder pursed his lips, wondering if he ought to ask. Was it something Jackson might want? Would it be too much, too soon? It couldn't hurt to offer. 

Actually, yeah, it could. Rejection might hurt a lot, truthfully. But he had to try.

“There's tools in the shed, though,” Mulder started casually, gauging his response. “My gloves should fit you. We can go into town, get some weed killer.”

He felt stupid, in the silence that followed. But then his son shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Yeah. Okay.”

Mulder fought back a smile the rest of the way to the house. 

-.-.-

As soon as the motion sensing lights on the porch illuminated, the front door flew open. Scully, in her robe and slippers, searched the darkness with a frantic eye, her stunned gaze finally landing on them as they approached the porch steps.

Mulder had known, just from talking to her on the phone, that she might have had some idea of who to expect, judging by his response. But in her typical fashion, she hadn't truly believed until she saw him with her own eyes.

“Wil– Jackson,” she said, rushing forward to throw her arms around him. To his credit, Jackson didn't pull away. He stood there, albeit stiffly, enduring the fierce embrace of the mother he had never known.

“If you build it, he will come, Scully,” Mulder joked. She threw an unamused look at him over Jackson's shoulder, still not letting go. Now was not the time to be quoting movies, he gathered.

Eventually, she collected herself enough to release her hold on him, stepping back. He was so much taller than her now, towering over her. Mulder could practically see the ‘mom’ wheels turning in her head, the list of things she needed to do forming even as she stood there looking at their firstborn.

“Come inside,” she offered, turning to open the screen door for him. “Stay as long as you need,” 

Stay forever, Mulder thought.

-.-.-

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Scully set out a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of milk for Jackson, while Mulder dug out some clothes from storage—sizes he’d worn when he was 25 years younger and wasn’t regularly fed home cooked meals. The borrowed pair of pajamas would fit Jackson nicely. And they were “vintage,” too, which was apparently all the rage with kids these days.

Scully had made up the couch with a warm plaid blanket and some of the extra pillows they had laying around. At one time there had been a guest room upstairs, though guests in their house had been extremely rare.

Between them, though, there had always been a silent acknowledgement that it was William’s room, in the extremely unlikely event of him finding his way back to them one day. They’d held onto that tiny kernel of hope for so long, for years and years, until everything else began falling apart.

Then the rest happened so fast—they went back to the FBI, found Jackson, reignited their relationship… lost Jackson. And Hope had been born. Out of necessity, the guest room became a nursery.

But their son still had a place here, at least until he got back on his feet. Much as they might want him to stay, their son was a grown adult now. They couldn’t expect him to live with them forever. 

But maybe just a few years… until they could be absolutely certain no one would come looking for him. Mulder had on good authority that this was a pretty decent place to hide out from the government.

Once they were satisfied that Jackson had everything he needed for the evening, the time came for them to bid him goodnight. Scully handed him an armful of the nice guest towels from the linen closet, then pointed him toward the bathroom where he could wash up. Jackson thanked them, never quite able to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds. Mulder figured he’d feel somewhat uncomfortable if he were in Jackson’s shoes, too, so he couldn’t blame him.

Before long, Mulder and Scully were upstairs laying side-by-side in their bed, half convinced it had all been a dream.

Some night, huh? Mulder wanted to say, but words seemed insufficient to fully encompass the broad spectrum of human emotion that they had experienced in the last hour or so. How could they even begin to broach the subject?

They didn't need words spoken aloud. Scully knew every thought that was running through his head, as he knew hers.

He turned over, wrapping his arm over her stomach and pulling her in against him. His breath tickled against the back of her neck, and they laid there in silence, praying they wouldn't hear the sound of the door slamming shut downstairs. Or worse yet, their car being stolen.

But the night passed in relative silence. Outside, all that could be heard were the quiet sounds of nature, usual for this part of the state. Scully’s breath evened out, and he hugged her tightly to his chest, resting his head on her pillow.

It was hard to feel anything but grateful, at the moment. Anxious—yes—but grateful. 

He slipped into a peaceful sleep. 

-.-.-

In the morning, Mulder snuck down to the living room with bated breath, half expecting Jackson to be gone. But there he was, sprawled out on his stomach on the couch, his arm dangling onto the floor. He was in his twenties now, Mulder reminded himself, but he still looked young enough to be a teen, especially with his face relaxed in sleep.

Mulder had a hard time believing he, himself, had ever really been that young. To think of all the things he’d been through by that age… All the things he’d wanted to protect his son from.

Content that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon, Mulder headed back upstairs, careful not to step on the steps that creaked. He brought the good news back to Scully. Their house was currently occupied by two of their spawn. How crazy was that?

She smiled, nervous and hesitant to be openly happy, for fear that that happiness could go away as fast as it had come. He sat down beside her, smoothing a hand over her hip and gazing at her in shared joy. Downstairs, they heard the clumsy movements of early morning—the clink of a coffee mug, the flush of the downstairs toilet. An overwhelming sense of rightness accompanied the sounds.

Eventually, it was decided that the littlest member of their family needed to be informed about their visitor. Scully went in to wake Hope, gently explaining that there was someone special waiting for them downstairs. She carried her sleepy form down the staircase while Mulder went to give Jackson a heads up. As he suspected, the news that he was a big brother came as no shock to him.

He didn’t seem particularly thrilled by the idea, but he wasn’t upset or anything. Maybe indifferent was the right word. Still, when Scully and Hope stepped into the living room, he put on a small smile and met his sister’s gaze head-on.

“Hope, this is your big brother,” Scully said. “Remember when we told you about him? This is Jackson.”

“William,” their son corrected, to the surprise of both of his parents. “You guys can call me William. Or Will. Jackson is… I’m not Jackson anymore. William is good.”

Mulder’s throat thickened with emotion, and he felt pinpricks of tears forming in his eyes. Scully didn’t seem to be faring much better, kneeling next to Hope on the ground. He could tell she wanted to say something, but words were beyond her grasp, rendered speechless by his declaration.

“Hi, William,” their daughter said, putting forth a hand for him to shake. “I’m Hope!”

Hope, bless her, was completely oblivious to the heightened emotions in the room. To her, this was just an interesting new person to meet. Her brother, whose presence in their lives needed no explanation.

“Hey,” he greeted. His much larger hand reached for Hope’s, giving it a little shake, and she grinned.

“He’s tall,” she informed her father, earning a chuckle from William.

Maybe things would be okay.

-.-.-

Starting that first day, Mulder and William spent hours outside, working to tame the overgrown wilderness that had once been a well-manicured homemade baseball field.

William volunteered (was told) to operate the lawnmower, filling bag after bag of grass clippings and hauling it to the compost pile on the other side of the property. Slowly, the outfield began to resemble—well—an outfield. The dirt of the infield was leveled out, raked, and smoothed over until it was as fine as it ever had been. The two trampled back into the house every day at sundown, sweaty and disgusting but satisfied by the physical labor and steady progress.

On the third day, Mulder took William to the hardware store, where they purchased some lumber to replace the rotting wooden bleachers alongside the field. He also bought the necessary supplies to light up the field at night, perhaps not as well as a real stadium would, but for their purposes, it would suffice.

William expressed some doubt that Mulder had the technical skills to be able to install such complicated electrical components by himself, but Mulder insisted that anything could be learned on YouTube these days. Privately, he estimated a 75% chance that he’d need to call an electrician to assist—a luxury not afforded to him last time he’d worked on this field. But he took William’s skepticism as a challenge.

For the rest of the week, it was weed killing, dirt under their fingernails, sore muscles, and sawdust in their hair. The benches got hammered in place, William showing remarkable skill with the hand tools Mulder kept in their shed.

The seventh day, it rained.

“Looks like you’re stuck inside today,” Scully noted at breakfast. It was the weekend again, no school for Hope, and no work for Scully. She had been hesitant at first to work as the school nurse at their daughter’s school, but it afforded her so much convenience and ample time with her family, that it seemed the obvious choice. She wouldn’t trade these weekends together for the world, especially now that their family had grown by one.

They still hadn’t discussed the future—how long Will planned to stay, whether he even wanted to. They were under no illusions that he was here out of anything but necessity, but each day that passed, he seemed to grow more and more comfortable in their presence.

“Guess we’ll have to wait to put the finishing touches on another day, huh, Will?” Mulder said, watching as the sky poured down on the surrounding landscape, the sound pitter pattering on the roof of the house.

William shrugged, scooping a mouthful of cereal into his mouth.

Mulder sipped his hot coffee, turning his thoughtful gaze to his son. “There’s another project we could tackle inside, if you’re interested,” he spoke.

Will looked up from his bowl, mild interest showing on his face. “Yeah? What kind of project?”

Scully watched Mulder with curiosity, looking for some clue as to where he was going with this. Her guess was as good as William’s. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her.

Mulder shrugged nonchalantly. “You could help me clean out my office,” he offered simply.

William’s eyes flicked to the closed door connecting to the living room. “Is that what that mess of a room is over there?” he asked, causing Scully to snort into her own morning cup of coffee.

“It was,” Mulder said, bowing his head in acknowledgment. “I was thinking it might be better suited as a bedroom.”

William froze for a moment, and Scully, too, stopped breathing. 

“Y’know. Or we could turn it into a museum, put up a fake cast of a sasquatch footprint and charge people twenty bucks to come see it.”

William cleared his throat, staring fixedly into his cereal bowl and stirring his frosted mini wheats. 

“I don’t know. Makes more sense as a bedroom, I think,” he answered, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

Mulder had to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his features. His eyes met Scully’s, and he could see her fighting back tears. He reached for her hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.

“Okay then,” he choked past the lump in his throat. “We’ll have to clear it out, then we can bring up the bedframe and mattress from the basement.”

William nodded casually. “Sounds doable.”

“There’s paint, too, if you want it,” Mulder added. “I mean, if you think the room needs it. Leftover from other projects.”

It was hard to tell what his son really thought about all that. He gave no answer, no verbal indication that those plans were of particular interest to him.

But he smiled. He may have turned away to hide it, but Mulder saw. He saw his boy smile for probably the first time in his life.

It was so good to have him home.

-.-.-

The sun had begun to set on the Virginia countryside. The field of wild grasses beyond the outfield of the baseball diamond blew in the gentle wind, their rustling a steady din in the background of their quiet evening.

Mulder sat back on the newly-refurbished bleachers, surveying all that they’d accomplished together in the last couple of weeks. The field was in pristine condition, even better than it had been when it was first created.

Beside him, his son held out his bottle of beer, and Mulder clinked his against it before taking a swig, a silent toast to their success.

“Not bad, huh?” Mulder asked.

Will’s lips curled upward ever so slightly, and he nodded. “Not bad.”

The silence persisted for a few minutes more while they finished off their drinks, a reward at the end of the day for all their hard labor. As Mulder drained the last few drops of his Shiner, he hopped down from the bench, his shoes marking his footprints in the dirt. Sunflower seed shells lay scattered at his feet.

“We’d better get back before dinnertime,” he said, hoisting his toolbox up with one hand and waiting for Will to join him. “We’re probably late as it is.”

Once Will had stepped down beside him, Mulder began the trek back, heading toward the trail that would lead back to the house. He continued for a few paces before he realized William wasn’t following him.

“Hey, dad?”

William's voice stopped him in his tracks. His heart leapt to his throat, choking him momentarily. He swallowed past it, willing the prickling feeling in his eyes to go away.

He turned back, facing his son who stood backlit against the colorful pink and yellow hued sky.

“Yeah?” he asked.

William set his empty bottle down on the bleachers, then wiped his hands on the front of his jeans.

“You wanna play catch?”

Tears pooled in Mulder’s eyes, but the breeze came by to dry them before they could fall. His mouth stretched into a wobbly smile.

How long had he wished for this moment? How long had that brand new kids’ glove sat in his closet, never used? How many times had he thought of William out here, standing in the very spot he now stood?

He willed his voice to cooperate, to grant him the ability to respond to his son’s simple request.

“I’d like that,” he managed to say, nodding his acceptance. “God, I’d like that, son.”

They each slipped a glove on their left hand and made their way to the center of the field. Will grabbed a ball from the ball bucket as he went, tossing it a few times in the air, testing its weight.

Mulder felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him as he stood in place, waiting for the first throw. He couldn’t fully explain it, but it was like every hour spent building this field had led to this very moment. Like this was always meant to be.

William leaned back, his arm raised in a windup, and he propelled it forward, the ball leaving his hand in an arc. Mulder lifted his glove to catch it, and it found its target easily.

He picked the ball up with his bare hand, turning it over a few times and wondering how something so ordinary could suddenly feel so remarkable. He looked up at his son, and threw it back.

As the sky turned from pink to purple, they continued tossing the ball back and forth. Just as it was getting too dark to properly see what they were doing, the lights illuminated the field, and Mulder turned to see his wife smiling at him from where the control switch was located. Hope stood by her, holding her mother's hand and leaning her head against her side. They watched on in perfect contentment.

Fate hadn't been kind to him for most of his life. But this—here, now... This made it all worth it.

"Is there a heaven?" he sometimes wondered. Now he had his answer.

It's the place where dreams come true.

-.-.-

Tag List: (If you'd like to be added or removed, let me know! I haven't updated this in a while) @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf

Field of Dreams (X-Files fanfic)

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

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

Read on AO3

She should have known this was coming eventually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, are you gonna show me around?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An eyebrow raise.

"Like Babe Ruth."

She rolled her eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mulder smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I think it just might be."

------

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

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

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

[greycoupon]

Just finished The X-Files: Perihelion by Claudia Gray

The post season 11 X-Files novel comes out July 30th. I will have a complete review in a few days but here are my initial thoughts. This takes places a few weeks after MSIV and Mulder and Scully are very traumatized.

Mulder is also frustrated in general. Can't really blame him.

Other notes:

LGTBQIA characters! Casey, a non-binary nurse is a real stand out.

Scully has a female friend. Skinner is in a coma. Melissa flashbacks and Scully thinks of her multiple times. Monica Reyes doesn't exist. Mulder and Scully go through it. Scully investigates her pregnancy. People can teleport & conduct electricity. New A.D. and Mulder gets a quirky new source. It's a good read even if parts of the mythology are kind of out there. I read the entire book in the last 20 hrs.

Claudia Gray is a true fan and gets the characters in a way no other tie-in author has. She gets their trauma and pain and the fact that Scully's bodily autonomy has been violated over and over. The book constantly references the past and includes references to Pendrell, Duane Barry, Pusher, FTF, Emily... You spend a good bit of time inside Mulder and Scully's heads and see their scars.

Claudia started out as a fanfic writer in this fandom back in the 90's and her love for these characters and this universe comes through.

If you want to send me questions, I will answer them as best I can.

[jcmarchi]

Stackpack Secures $6.3M to Reinvent Vendor Management in an AI-Driven Business Landscape

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/stackpack-secures-6-3m-to-reinvent-vendor-management-in-an-ai-driven-business-landscape/

Stackpack Secures $6.3M to Reinvent Vendor Management in an AI-Driven Business Landscape

In a world where third-party tools, services, and contractors form the operational backbone of modern companies, Stackpack has raised $6.3 million to bring order to the growing complexity.

Led by Freestyle Capital, the funding round includes support from Elefund, Upside Partnership, Nomad Ventures, Layout Ventures, MSIV Fund, and strategic angels from Intuit, Workday, Affirm, Snapdocs, and xAI.

The funding supports Stackpack’s mission to redefine how businesses manage their expanding vendor networks—an increasingly vital task as organizations now juggle hundreds or even thousands of external partners and platforms.

Turning Chaos into Control

Founded in 2023 by Sara Wyman, formerly of Etsy and Affirm, Stackpack was built to solve a problem she knew too well: modern companies are powered by vendors, yet most still track them with outdated methods—spreadsheets, scattered documents, and guesswork. With SaaS stacks ballooning and AI tools proliferating, unmanaged vendors become silent liabilities.

“Companies call themselves ‘people-first,’ but in reality, they’re becoming ‘vendor-first,’” said Wyman. “There are often 6x more vendors than employees. Yet there’s no system of record to manage that shift—until now.”

Stackpack gives finance and IT teams a unified, AI-powered dashboard that provides real-time visibility into vendor contracts, spend, renewals, and compliance risks. The platform automatically extracts key contract terms like auto-renewal clauses, flags overlapping subscriptions, and even predicts upcoming renewals buried deep in PDFs.

AI That Works Like a Virtual Vendor Manager

Stackpack’s Behavioral AI Engine acts as an intelligent assistant, surfacing hidden cost-saving opportunities, compliance risks, and critical dates. It not only identifies inefficiencies—it takes action, issuing alerts, initiating workflows, and providing recommendations across the vendor lifecycle.

For instance:

Renewal alerts prevent surprise charges.

Spend tracking identifies underused or duplicate tools.

Contract intelligence extracts legal and pricing terms from uploads or integrations with tools like Google Drive.

Approval workflows streamline onboarding and procurement.

This brings the kind of automation once reserved for enterprise procurement platforms like Coupa or SAP to startups and mid-sized businesses—at a fraction of the cost.

A Timely Solution for a Growing Problem

Vendor management has become a boardroom issue. As more companies shift budgets from headcount to outsourced services, compliance and financial oversight have become harder to maintain. Stackpack’s early traction is proof of demand: just months after launch, it’s managing over 10,500 vendors and $510 million in spend across more than 50 customers, including Every Man Jack, Rho, Density, HouseRx, Fexa, and ZeroEyes.

“The CFO is the one left holding the bag when things go wrong,” said Brandon Lee, Accounting Manager at BizzyCar. “Stackpack means we don’t have to cross our fingers every quarter.”

Beyond Visibility: Enabling Smarter Vendor Decisions

Alongside its core platform, Stackpack is launching Requests & Approvals, a lightweight tool to simplify vendor onboarding and purchasing decisions—currently in beta. The feature is already attracting customers looking for faster, more agile alternatives to traditional procurement systems.

With a long-term vision to help companies not only manage but discover and evaluate vendors more strategically, Stackpack is laying the groundwork for a smarter, interconnected vendor ecosystem.

“Every vendor decision carries legal, financial, and security consequences,” said Dave Samuel, General Partner at Freestyle Capital. “Stackpack is building the intelligent infrastructure to manage these relationships proactively.”

The Future of Vendor Operations

As third-party ecosystems grow in size and complexity, Stackpack aims to transform vendor operations from a liability into a competitive advantage. Its AI-powered approach gives companies a modern operating system for vendor management—one that’s scalable, proactive, and deeply integrated into finance and operations.

“This isn’t just about cost control—it’s about running a smarter company,” said Wyman. “Managing your vendors should be as strategic as managing your talent. We’re giving companies the tools to make that possible.”

With fresh funding and a rapidly expanding customer base, Stackpack is poised to become the new standard for how modern businesses manage the partners powering their growth.

[tygertygerfoggybright]

Hi, friend!! For the ask game: 31, 33, 58, and 60 (what’s your favorite season of x files and why?)

A hearty 'hello' in these strange times! :D

Gonna mix these up and answer what I want to first.

33. something you want to learn

I just picked up my Japanese notebook an hour ago; and I've forgotten (but haven't, in that weird, familiar way) so many words since 2017. Never got that far to begin with, but it felt good to stretch my brain out. So, probably that; or pick up Spanish again.

Or learn how to make quality videos because A. I can and B. you never know when that skill might come in handy.

58. description of my best friend

This might sound morbid, but I don't have a best friend. (Correction: my siblings are my best friends. They're great.) I'm an antisocial tiger who wants to connect with people until I have to actually... connect.

31. 3 random facts

-I have a theory that Chris Carter showed David Duchovny My Struggle IV's script before Gillian Anderson not because he was good friends with DD-- he's not really friends with, nor does he trust, anyone-- but because David's scene came first in the last two or so hidden pages. I'd have to reread a few of his post-MSIV interviews and take a look at the scripts (can't find 'em anywhere); but the pattern was set during the OG run when he didn't tell anyone anything (not even his principle actors or writers) because of his self-admitted paranoia. Which is his... thing to work through; but I'll bet that's the case (hence why he got mad at GA and felt she unfairly maligned him; and hence why GA felt singled out and ignored.)

-Love photography. My old PowerShot died a year or two (or three?) ago; but I haven't found anything "complete" under $200 (the market prices exploded.) Need to get on that.

-Currently in a "cerebral fiction" era (which included a few DD recs: Master and Margarita, DNFed; American Pastoral, finished; One Hundred Years of Solitude, still reading) and stumbled on Jodie Foster's audio version of Contact. First science fiction book! (Bonus: before this "era", I'd read a lot of self-help books-- some which overlapped with GA's recs... which I've since forgotten, oops-- and before then, I burnt out on Victorian/Russian novels.)

60. ask me anything you want: what’s your favorite season of x files and why?

Season 8, for the same reason that David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson loved and struggled with it.

Scully was given a role away from Mulder's side, and proved her own strength and capabilities by heading the files and leading Skinner and Doggett; Mulder was abducted, then returned shaken by his experiences and his place in the world. Mulder and Scully were becoming parents but were still on their own conflicting journeys: Scully tried to preserve the files for Mulder only to realize she wanted them for herself; Mulder followed the truth back to Bellefleur and was stripped (literally) of his wonder and gumption. Both of them knew that his problems extended beyond the baby in Three Words. Both knew that he was ready and trying in Empedocles. Both swung back in the saddle-- with their own secrets, without consulting the other-- in Vienen: an independence that showed they were the same, still. Both had to tread new, domestic territory without the files to back them up in Alone. Both didn't want the files to rule their lives anymore in Essence and Existence.

Also: Doggett and his cunning and good nature and growth; Skinner and his shining belief and dogged courage and gruff comfort; TLG and their assorted mischief and tender hearts; Kersh and his diabolical avarice.

[agathabridgerton]

tbh sometimes i feel like people don’t take it seriously how violating having scully be pregnant again is in and post-msiv. like she made it very clear in “plus one” that even if she could have kids at that point she wouldn’t want to. and then i try to find even a single fix-it fic for all the nonsense of msiv and they all include the baby as if that wasn’t problematic? like it’s not the simple fact of including the baby bc ofc it’s possible to make something good out of something bad—that’s like half of the fic in this fandom. but i couldn’t find any post-revival fic w/o the baby and it got to the point where i had to write my own fic bc the lack of one exacerbated negative feelings and my need for closure. it made me doubt whether i really had watched something extremely misogynistic or not. it just doesn’t sit right with me that it feels like everyone agrees with criticisms of cc randomly making scully pregnant again but then turns around and keeps it?? idk maybe it’s just late so i’m having trouble empathizing lol i just like genuinely am having trouble imagining crossing that line after scully said she didn’t want another child. i just don’t give a fuck about that baby even though i want to. i just don’t think that any amount of positivity will warm me to the idea of the second baby unironically.

[numinousmysteries]

Fanfic ask time! :DDD 10, 25, 30~

Thanks for the ask @randomfoggytiger. Here you go:

10. shortest wip of the year: Hmm I really only have one WIP going right now that's somewhat long (or at least long for me) but I did start another shorter piece that's within the same universe as the longer WIP and might become part of it at some point, so I guess that?

25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read: I've read (and re-read) so much fantastic fic that I know I'll forget some. I only just started using the bookmark feature on Ao3 to save my favorites so there are dozens that have slipped through the cracks, as well as others on Gossamer and other places, of course. Here's what comes to mind immediately:

I re-read Isometry by @syntax6 which is just perfect, and that led to reading Universal Invariants for the first time and it's equally fantastic.

I am a 20+ year prufrock's love stan but I actually never read A Moment in the Sun until this year and I adored it. I'm not the biggest AU fan but I will trust prufrock's love to translate Mulder and Scully to any world in any century. I also re-read Promises to Keep which is super angsty but worth it.

I re-read Blinded by the White Light by @dashakay at least once a year and it never fails to make me cry.

Times Colliding by OnlyTheInevitable. So well-done and I'd love another chapter!

The entire Unfinished Business series by aka_Jake. I like to pretend MSIV never happened (along with like, everything post-Existence) but aka_Jake makes it right.

How have I never read Dryad by @aloysiavirgata before? I adore everything she writes and this is no exception.

Hour of Lead by Darla Black hurts so good.

And like everyone else in the fandom, Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013 kept me on the edge of my seat for weeks.

30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year This is an easy one. The X-Files always and forever.

[twogravesinsomecemetery]

ok but what if i did the one thing i said i never would do and started writing a post-MSiv txf fic? i still stand by the fact that them hugging out on the harbour is exactly where we should leave them, but -

to hell with it. it's HAPPENING

[atths--twice]

The Pregnancy Series 1/6

Contentment

And so begins the next chapter of their lives. The “what happens next” portion of the end of the series and of Soulmates (which I recommend you check out and of which I have recently posted). A season 12 of sorts, but no more X-Files, no more monsters in the dark, no more conspiracies. This is the life they deserve after all the shit they have been through- happy, together, a baby on the way that will not be taken, hunted, or need to be given up. 

I NEVER planned to fall into family stories for any reason. Seriously, it was not even on my radar. I had so many other stories to tackle and a baby story was not one I was super interested in working on. Then a tweet was posted about it being Father’s Day and Scully would be so far along and how Mulder would he be talking to her belly and well... I was gone. 

I wrote this one and thought I was done, but no. I went on to write over 30 more, so get ready... :) 

_________________

Mulder and Scully, together once again, content and cuddling in the Unremarkable House.

(Oh, and we obviously don’t have any pregnant photos from the revival, sooooo.... ) 

June 2018

Mulder sat on the front porch, his feet up on the railing, as he leaned back, enjoying the breeze of the summer day. It had not been too hot, for which he was grateful. It had been warm the last couple days, but today was good. Today was good.

Scully was inside making a late lunch/early dinner. Now that they were not working at the FBI anymore, they were home more. Scully had been back at the hospital for almost two months. Mulder was still thinking of what he wanted to do with his time. He had been writing, but he was not completely devoted to it yet. It helped him though, helped with all they had gone through.

He was content for now. Content being home with Scully. Watching her body change as her pregnancy progressed. Being there for every step of it this time. Holding her hand while they heard the heartbeat for the first time. Him crying and falling to his knees. She had murmured to him that it was okay, they were okay.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and closed his eyes. He still did not know how this baby came to be. Well, he thought with a smile, he knew how, because he had been there and it had been amazing. Both times. And every time since.

But this pregnancy, five months in and he still was stumped. Years of no discussion, no thought, no consideration of it and they were never expecting. Then they had a discussion in a hotel room, a roundabout discussion about their lives, their hopes, and what they had wanted. Then, he thought smiling, then she had kissed him. Kissed him like she had for years, full of love and promise.

He had rolled her on her back and looked at her until she smiled, giving him the green light. He took care of her first, he owed her that. Owed her his time and devotion. She broke quickly, calling his name, and holding tightly to his hair. She had been breathing hard, whispering his name, as he kissed her and joined their bodies. It was fast, but wonderful.

He got up and stepped over to the screen door and looked in at her. She had music on, though he could not place it. She was swaying to it as she made whatever she was working on. His heart swelled watching her. At the way her body was already changing. The extra weight, the shape of her body. He loved her so much, he would do anything to make her happy. He knew that beyond anything else. She was more important to him than anyone had ever been.

He sighed and sat back down in his chair, feeling the wind blow, closing his eyes. He needed to relax, will his body to calm down, his mind to stop racing, to not start thinking beyond what was happening in the here and now.

“Hey,” she said through the door, then pushed it open. She walked over to him and touched his arm. His eyes flew open and she smiled. “You hungry? Ready to eat?” She ran her fingers across his arm, tickling him, her smile widening. Her other hand was on her belly. The swell of her made him smile.

He pushed himself up and grabbed her hand, heading inside. She laughed and followed behind, squeezing his hand.

She had made a salad and chicken breasts for them. Something healthy for them and for the baby. She was determined to be better with her eating habits of late.

“This looks great,” he said, as he sat down and took a big bite of chicken. “I’m even going to eat the salad.” He said with a wink and a smile. “But, do we have any beer? It will make the salad taste better, I think.”

She laughed as he got up to see if there was beer in the fridge. She heard the bottle open and knew he had found at least one. He winked at her again as he sat back down. She smiled at him and grabbed her knife and fork. It was quiet for a bit as they both ate their food.

Mulder looked at her as he took a drink of his beer. “How are you feeling, Scully? You okay?” He stared at her looking for any sign that she was sad or feeling sick.

“Mulder, you’ve asked me that at least three times today. Every time, I’ve told you I’m fine. Do I not look fine to you?” she asked as she stared back at him, eyebrows raised, a small smile on her face.

“That’s not a fair question, Scully. If I say no, it implies I don’t think you’re fine- which I absolutely do,” he said with an eyebrow waggle, while she rolled her eyes. “But if I say yes, it implies I’m not actually sincere in my questioning. So..how are you?” He smiled and waited.

She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “I was a little sick this morning, as you know. I’m a little tired, but other than that I am okay.” She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He reached for her hand and she took it. He threaded his fingers with her and squeezed.

“How about if we watch a movie after we eat? You pick, and I’ll clean up. Any movie you want to watch. Yes, even Steel Magnolias.” She chuckled and squeezed his hand back. She nodded and let go of his hand so they could finish their food.

He took their plates to the sink as she picked out a movie. He was washing the dishes when he heard the music of the movie she picked and he smiled. Mystery Men. He liked this movie and she tolerated it. Of course she would pick something he would like. As he set the dishes in the rack, he looked over at her as she sat on the couch and rubbed her belly. He loved watching her do that almost as much as he loved doing it to her.

He hurried his cleaning so he could go sit with her and touch her belly. Hopefully the baby would be awake tonight so he could feel it moving again. The first time it happened, it scared the shit out of him. They had been lying on the couch spooning, his hand on her belly when he felt it move. He pulled his hand back and shouted. She had laughed and put his hand back. For twenty minutes, he had felt the wave like feeling of his baby moving around inside her. He had cried into her neck as she turned to him and held him.

He joined her on the couch, lying down, put a pillow on her thighs, and put his head down, facing her belly. She smiled down at him, while she stroked his hair. The late afternoon sun was coming through the windows and his face looked beautiful in this light. He pressed a kiss to her belly and started mumbling into it, his lips warm against her shirt.

“Do you want me to turn the movie on? Or do you want to just speak to my stomach?” She scratched her nails into his scalp and his eyes closed. He loved when she did that, it felt so good. He put his head back and looked at her.

“Scully, I read in one of the numerous books I ordered, it is important for the baby to hear our voices. He, or she, hears yours all the time, but I don’t get unlimited belly time. So, I have to use my time wisely. Tonight I’m telling him or her, about the Mothmen in Florida. About how we were hunted down and built a kickass ladder tower of dead bodies. So, if you’ll excuse us.” He put his mouth against her stomach again and started talking.

She leaned her head back against the back of the couch and smiled. She muted the television and instead listened to him tell their baby about a trip in the woods that had almost killed them. Well, another trip in the woods, as there had been many. But she could hear him telling this little miracle about how brave she had been, how she tried to light a fire with gunpowder-really smart your mom, how she had held him, kept him warm, when he was hurt.

She ran her fingers through his hair over and over, reveling in the feel of it. So soft and so familiar. She had missed him so much. Had missed nights like this, lying on the couch and watching movies. Now, his attention was on her and the life growing inside her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with love every time he laid like this and talked to their child.

She raised her head and looked down at him. He was talking about how she had sung him a song and it had been the most beautiful singing he had ever heard, when the baby moved, right against his mouth. He pulled back stunned and Scully laughed and laughed at his expression.

“Oh Mulder, I think either he or she is telling you to shut up, or calling you the liar that you are. Remember, I am with him or her all the time. My singing has been heard.” She laughed again and he put his mouth back against her.

“Don’t listen to her little bean, her voice is beautiful, because it’s hers. I love everything about her and her singing voice is part of the package.” He put his hand on her belly, moving it around, trying to feel the movement again. “She didn’t have to sing, but I asked her to and she did. That’s how it works with us, my bean. We ask of each other and we oblige. It’s a partnership. Give and take, push and pull.” He put his head back and looked at Scully. She smiled at him and stroked his face.

“I got incredibly lucky when they sent your mama to me, little bean. They thought she would be my undoing, but she was what I needed. She was my saving grace. I don’t tell her that enough, but it’s the truth.” He was telling the baby but looking at Scully. Her eyes filled with tears, but he was not done. “I almost lost her, my sweet bean. I was so close. I made some bad mistakes and I almost lost the one person I love most in this world.” He was still stroking her belly, staring in her eyes. Her tears spilled over and ran down her face.

“But, we found our way back,” his voice was lower now, the one that gives her the shivers. “We fought through the bad and the darkness to find the light again. You are part of that light, my sweet bean. You would not be here if we hadn’t fought like hell to get back to each other. I am so grateful for you. You are a testament of our love and our hope for the future." He put his mouth back on her stomach and she resumed stroking his hair. “We are going to have so many wonderful adventures. I can’t wait to experience them with you.” He kissed her belly and closed his eyes, his cheek resting against her.

As he lay there quietly, the baby moved again, right on his cheek. His eyes flew open and he looked up at her. She smiled, tear stains on her face. They both laughed at what appeared to be the baby giving him a kiss goodnight. He pressed his face against her and whispered goodnight.

The sun had set and it was the beautiful moment in the day, when the crickets and nighttime insects started their mating sounds. The males calling for their females. Mulder empathized with them tonight. He understood their hope and pain, he had felt in himself. But his female, his mate, his love, was there and his heart was happy, so very happy. They sat in the silence of the house, listening through the screen door. They began to breathe in unison.

Mulder shifted and sat up. He moved to the end of the couch, and reached for her. She went to him and laid her head on his shoulder, on her side. He shifted again, lying on his side wrapping his arms around her. He lifted his leg, allowing hers to slide between his. He pulled his leg up close to her hip, holding her close. One hand moved to her hair, the other low on her waist.

“Pretty soon we won’t be able to lie here like this,” she said as she nestled into his neck, smelling his scent and closing her eyes.

“What do you mean? Feels pretty cozy to me,” he said as he scratched her head with his fingers. She hummed and kissed his neck. He hummed back and pulled her closer.

“Right now, we fit perfectly with, as you call it, the bean between us. Give it a month..” She trailed off and he scoffed.

“Then we will just have to cuddle like this in bed. Problem solved.” He ran his hand up her back and she sighed.

“If we stay here too long, I’m going to fall asleep,” she said, her eyes already feeling heavy. His fingers in her hair was like a sleep aid. She felt so relaxed, content.

“Sleep then, Scully. Sleep.” He tightened his hold on her and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, my angelic songstress.”

He felt her laugh against his neck. “I love you too, you absolute liar.” He chuckled and kissed her again as she sighed and relaxed further into him.

The crickets sang and the summer air was warm. It created a peaceful atmosphere as all three inhabitants rested in a cocoon of love. Love created on the outside in the tangle of limbs, and love created on the inside. Swirling, growing, and preparing for the adventures her father would take her on.

[cigarettesmokingautistic]

An Unremarkable Existence

[A kinda short post-MSIV kid/babyfic, obvious spoilers, this is pure fluff]

I wrote this because even if the situation Scully has been thrown into is the actual worst, I wanted a story in which having the baby with Mulder could be a healing experience. I’ve never written or posted fanfiction before, so here goes nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the days and weeks and months after revealing her pregnancy to Mulder, life shifts into a predictable routine for the first time. In the unremarkable house, they begin to embrace their miracle.

Mulder falls for her all over again as they both fall in love with their unborn baby, taking every step of the way together. Ultrasounds, shopping for diapers and clothes, painting a nursery...It’s normal. It’s boring. It’s comfortable.

He spends hours—at least until his eyes get tired—reading books and searching the Internet to learn everything he can about pregnancy and babies and how he can support Scully when she goes into labour. He puts his glasses down and crawls into bed when he notices it’s late. An hour to midnight wasn’t ‘late’ before, but now it is.

They share so many beautiful moments together as the baby grows, and Scully along with it. Mulder is mesmerised once he’s able to feel the baby kick, and Scully often takes his hand to place it on her belly when it’s moving. In bed, he talks to the belly, kisses it, making Scully laugh. It’s adorable, and he savours every minute of it.

The two of them have the kind of honest, frank conversations about all of this that they’d never had time to have before. Mulder asks so many questions and Scully answers them, chiding him if they’re silly or he knows the answer already. She is his touchstone.

The last weeks of her pregnancy are spent in deep relaxation. They don’t go out as often, and Mulder finds himself tending to the house and the groceries and the laundry. Whenever she needs it, he massages and kisses and holds her in his arms, both of their hands on her swollen belly. Sometimes, he thanks her for giving him this gift of a normal life. Other times, he silently thanks whatever power there is in the Universe for giving him her.

By the time she goes into labour they are prepared to face whatever struggle may come. Ready to meet their child. In fleeting moments between the pain, all the trauma of the past fades, at least for a second, as she lies back in Mulder’s arms and he whispers words of encouragement to her. None of their preparations could never make this easy—she is, of course, having a baby at 54—but it is calm. It is, for the most part, quiet and reflective, a deep meditation on the possibilities, the miracle life has thrown at them.

As Scully brings their child into the world, Mulder marvels at how strong she is. He tells her she is incredible, kisses her temple. Feels entirely helpless as her face contorts in pain but is making all the difference for her by simply being there. There is no threat, no mysterious circumstances. There is just a man, a woman, and their child, whose cries as it is finally born immediately dissolve the both of them into tears, too.

This child is not remarkable in any larger sense. It’s just a tiny little human with ten fingers and ten toes. The fate of the world is not resting on its shoulders. But it is everything for the two of them. It is a victory. It is their glimmer of hope for a life with a semblance of normalcy. And...

“It’s a girl.”

[gingerstorm101]

Date Night

Special thanks to @dana-katherine-sculder​ for co-writing this with me and agreeing on how perfect of a prompt this photo is.

Scully is self conscious while getting ready for her date. Post MSIV.

The sunshines through the window as Scully holds the dress up to her chest, the long black shadowing in the light. She didn’t know what to expect when she’d pulled it from the back of her closet, but here she was, contemplating on wearing it tonight. But there was so much holding her back. She wasn’t 35 anymore, not many 54 years old women wear such revealing outfits in their day to day lives. She just didn’t want anyone to stare at her, judging her.

“You look beautiful, Dana.”

She looks up to her partner, her date, and drops the dress on their bed beside her. “No I don’t.” She mumbles, not meeting the man’s eyes. “I doubt I can even fit in it anymore.” Frowning, she turns away from him, roughly picking up the dress and taking it to the closet to hang back up. A step from the closet door, his large hand finds his way to her hips, halting her in her movements. His fingers resting near her navel reminds her of the small fetus in her womb, yet another reminder that she won’t be fitting in any of her clothing in the coming months, upsetting her even more.

He steps behind her, his lips pressing against her crown. “Don’t say that.” His breathy whisper tickles her head. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” She rolls her eyes, tilting her head to look up at him, but doesn’t reach his eyes. “In my world, then.” He presses another kiss to her head and wraps his arms around her waist.

“Mulder…” She wants to tell him to stop, that she wasn’t worth it. But the words never came, she couldn’t push him away, not today it seems. “I’ve had that dress for nearly 20 years, since before William was born.”

“I know.” He caresses her flat stomach, thinking of the now teen who they found out was still alive only earlier that week, the day when she had collapsed at work due to another massive headache from the shared vision she had of the boy. “I was there the first night you wore it.”

She recalls that night, so long ago. Their first date, disguised as her birthday dinner. He had gone all out, asking her mother to take her out dress shopping the week before, booking reservations at a Five Star restaurant called Ocean Prime, and keeping their cases close to home that entire week. Everything he had done that week had been for her. To take her out on what he declared was the perfect date. And what she later told him, it was.

She’s hasn’t worn it since.

“Wear it, you’re stunning” She hold the dress back, glancing at the long skirt and low hanging back. She debates strongly on giving in and wearing the damn dress. But the fear of her age and pregnancy was stopping her.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can, you won’t know for certain until you put it on.” He still hasn’t let her go, and by now, she doesn’t want him to. The moment he does, she would have to put on this dress.

“If I put it on, would you stop pushing me?”

He laughs, his voice deep in his chest. “Then I would win.” He pauses as he pressesing his nose into her hair, taking a deep breath. “But yes, I will.” He caresses her once more before stepping out of her space and out of the room. She takes a deep breath, a stray flashes through her mind to fling the dress away and say ‘fuck it’ and just not go out on this date with him. But she wouldn’t; she hasn’t been pampered like this for so long. ‘Just do it.’

Scully stands in front of the bedroom mirror in just her underwear, scanning her body for all the imperfections, turning to the side and sucking in, her small baby bump showing. She places a hand over the small mound before letting go of her breath, the bump disappearing. This miracle child, the second one she was never supposed to have, was starting to show that they were there.

She stands like this for a good few minutes before she finally picks up the outfit for the night. Pulling it over her head, she smooths down the fabric as it falls to her feet. Her fingers play with it as she criticizes herself for wearing such a thing. She wasn’t some red carpet celebrity, she wasn’t meant for wear something so revealing. She turns around to face away from the mirror, watching as it dips to the small of her back. She’s too old to have so much skin revealed. She’s too old to be wearing this dress.

The knock on the door brings her back in from her negative musing. “Scully?” She doesn’t say anything as he lets himself in their room. He stops when his eyes settle on her. “You’re gorgeous.” He smiles, grabbing her small hand into his large one. She doesn’t meet his gaze as she opens her mouth to argue against his declaration, he lifts his other hand and brushed her growing hair behind her ears. “Don’t deny it.” Mulder pulls her back in front of the mirror, standing behind her.

“Mulder please, just-” He shushes her.

“You’ve ripened with age, Scully. You are more beautiful than you were back then, any man would be more than happy to be with you. I am overjoyed to be that man today.” His voice was soft, he grabbed her wrist, his hands slightly callassed from the years of abuse, and pulled her hand up to his mouth to kisses her knuckles. “You may not see it, but I do. You are perfect.”

“I’m getting fat.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her figure. Yes, her dress fit her perfectly, but she has noticed that her pants were starting to get tighter, and give it another month, they will probably not button up.

“No. No no no no, Scully, you’re not fat.” He pauses, catching her eye in the mirror. “You’re pregnant. There’s a different.” He turns her to her side, showing off her petite figure. “See? You’re not fat, you’re still my Scully.” However, she wouldn’t take his word for it. This baby was already making itself known, making her sick everyday, refusing to let her good jeans fit, and ranking up her dizzy spells. “You’re beautiful.”

Beautiful? No, she’s old and pregnant.

He was probably reading her mind again. “Believe me.” She follows his lead as he turns her around to face him. “You are beautiful. You’re pregnant with our second miracle child.” He whispers, pressing his forehead against hers. It was calming, she realized, being here with her partner.

It took a moment before she whispers, “I believe you.”

“What do you believe, my love?” Their eyes close, heads press together, they stand together for many minutes.

“That according to you-”

“And many people out there-”

“I am beautiful, that you love me the way I am.”

He smiles, she doesn’t see it, but she just knows.

“Told you so.” She feels the smile grow on her own face. It’s ridiculous, her worrying about the way she looks. But when she goes out to the store and sees the young mothers with their children, or their own baby bumps, Scully gets self conscious. She was the oldest pregnant mother at the mall, buying the newest pregnancy books to know the new ways to do the mother thing.

“I keep getting asked if it was my first grandchild when I was picking up pregnancy books from the store.” She frowns, recalling the memory of the previous weekend. “Whenever I correct them, I get disapproving looks. When I do start showing, the looks won’t stop. They’ll just get worse.”

“Hey,” He softly says, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Just ignore them. It’s just us, just the three of us. You, me,” He places his hand on her flat stomach. “And baby.”

“And Jackson.” She adds, opening her eyes to him.

“And Jackson, wherever he may be hiding.” He smiles at her, gazing into her blue orbs. “So four, it’s just the four of us. There is no one else in our world.”

“Even Bill would give me weird looks, telling me to ditch you, to give it up and-”

“No one else, Scully. He doesn’t run your life, nobody does, he’s not the one who chooses what you get to do with your body. Love it the way it is, and the way it will grow with our baby.” His hands ran over her shoulders, running down her body to her hips, his thumbs reaching for her navel. “Things have changed since we were younger, there are more and more people have children at an older age. Because we’re healthy.” She gave him a questioning look. “Ok, you’re healthier than I am, but I can still have a couple go’s in a single night.” He winked and she smiles widely before letting out a short laugh. “I know you know those nights.”

“Mulder, is there a point to bringing up our sex life?”

“You mean the sudden increase in it?” He smirks at her before pressing his lips against his forehead.

She groans, but doesn’t leave his grasp. “Mulder…”

“What I mean, Scully, is that we may be older, but you’re as healthy as you were ten years ago. We won’t lose this child, and we aren’t giving them up, no matter what your idiot brother says.”

“Be nice.”

“I will if, and only if, he does.” He grabs her hands, lifting her right above her head and spins her, the long flowing dress gathering air as it spins with her. “Which is why I had ask you out on this date, to show that I’m still the fun guy you know and love, before you drag me off to California to explain to your brother that you are pregnant and, indeed, still with ‘the sorry son-of-a-bitch’ that he warned you about. Why you’re telling them the news is beyond me.”

“He’s still family.” She knows that he and her brother don’t get along, but she wants to do this, as a family. It’s what they wanted to be, after all. To be together.

His hands finally left her body, kissing her on the lips. “Remind him of that on Monday.” With him finally off of her, she looks over herself in the mirror again, happier with her appearance this time around. She opens up the closet door, pulling out her favorite black heels that goes with most of her dresses. “I’m going go get changed, reservations are at 8.” She nods, walking to the bathroom to do her hair.

Fifteen minutes later her hair is neatly curled into soft waves and a light touch of make-up graces her eyes and lips. She walks down the stairs of the unremarkable house. She meets Mulder at the front door, his hand reaching out to offer his hand to hers.

“Are you ready, beautiful?”

She blushes, taking his hand, and they walk out the door.

[astridncs]

Ligaya

Been on a writer’s block, but seeing this MSR edit on twitter made me write a little drabble (double drabble?) | also on AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic

--

Sometimes, after a nap, Mulder and Lily would go out for a walk with Daggoo – just the three of them while mommy stays home to prepare the snacks. They’d walk around the property picking flowers and pointing out little bugs and insects they’d see (even though they creep Mulder out, but for her, he’d do anything), and play fetch with the dog.

When it’s time to go home, Scully waits for them by the porch, a smile on her face as she watches them approach the house. Lily has something on her hand and she could see Mulder crouch down to her level and whisper something into her ear. Scully raises and eyebrow at this and when Mulder catches her eye, he returns a cheeky smile. Next thing she knows, their little girl come barreling to her and she could hear Mulder’s chuckles as he climbs into the steps. Scully picks up Lily even if her back protests at the weight and presses a kiss on the girl’s warm cheek.

“Flowers, Mama!” Lily exclaimed, opening her fist and presenting a wilting flower to her mother.

Scully smiled, “Thank you, bubba. I love it.” She said, once again kissing her cheek.

“Snack time?”

Her parents laughed at this and Mulder held the screen door open for them before following suit inside the house.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

..

[scully-eats-sushi]

Untitled MSIV Post-Ep Ficlet

Chapters 1 and 2

A little bit of angst, a lot of fluff. Rated PG-ish.

---------

Skinner had survived, they learned from two police officers guarding the scene. He had been taken by ambulance, unconscious, in very serious condition, to the closest trauma hospital. For the time being they couldn't do anything to help him, so they decided by unspoken agreement to head for home. They left Norfolk with heavy hearts, holding hands in the car until Scully fell asleep.

Mulder glanced over at her repeatedly as he drove. She was exhausted. He wasn't surprised that she had passed out so quickly on the ride home. He glanced over again at her beautiful face. Her face seemed to be full of pain. He thought she might be dreaming. Pregnant. Jesus. At 54 years old, she was pregnant and they were going to be parents. Again. But, not again. Painful. Leave it alone. 

How could this have possibly happened? What barren woman goes for the better part of two decades with barely a thought about birth control...? And then, at 54, to be miraculously pregnant? He couldn't fathom it. She was early into menopause, it was true, but how often did a woman her age get pregnant? 

As he turned onto the street that led to their house, he looked over at her again. God, how he loved her. He had missed everything last time. This time he would be there for every minute of it. And surely it would be even more critical for her to have support now, expecting a baby in her mid-fifties. His thoughts turned bitter. Didn't matter that he had missed it all, as it turned out. William wasn't even his. The pain. All these years, dreaming of his son. He had held it in, the longing and regret, to stay strong for her. He closed his eyes, teared up.

He heard a soft cry from Scully. Reaching the end of the driveway and parking next to the house, he looked over at her. She appeared to be in distress from her dream. 

"Scully, Scully, wake up."

"Mul, Muh..., Mulder!" She woke up with a start, looking around frantically. 

"Mulder, ohh God, William is alive! I saw him! I think he sent me a message. He survived and he came up out of the river. I don't know where he went, but he's alive! Our son is alive!"

"Scully..." he started quietly, sadly. "That's, that's wonderful. I believe you. I'm so glad he survived. But...he's not our son. He's your son."

"NO, Mulder. That bastard may have done something to me, somehow engineered it, but we still conceived William together. Oh my God, did you think I was telling you that you were not his father? Mulder..."

He couldn't believe it. They were both in tears. She leaned over, her forehead resting against his. 

"Mulder, when I was pregnant and you were gone, I considered every possibility. The timing with us was the only thing that made sense. I ran tests. Later, when you were on the run and everyone was coming after him, I did the DNA tests again. I can tell the difference between a brother and a father. YOU are William's father. He may have alien DNA from both of us but he's ours."

"God, really? Scully, I can't believe...I was so devastated. Are you sure?"

"You didn't believe the first time either. You came back from the dead and thought I was having a baby without you. Do you remember? Mulder, we still have William's hair in a vial. I will take it to Quantico and test it again for you if it will convince you. That is, if we still have jobs." They huffed out a little laugh. "But I am 100% certain."

"On the dock, I said 'What am I now if I'm not a father?'" 

"Oh, Mulder. I thought you were talking about losing William, like I was. I couldn't deal with the grief. I didn't get to be a mother to him for long enough. You didn't get to be a father at all. We both believed that eventually we might see him again. I was so...heartbroken at the thought that he was set up as an experiment that I wasn't clear. I still feel like I failed him. But he is alive. And he's no less ours."

"And you're pregnant?"

She nodded, crying. 

"How did this...? How could this possibly have happened?"

"I can't explain it. This is going to be so hard, Mulder. I'm too old. There are risks. But I want this baby."

"Scully, I'm going to be there for every minute of it this time. I'm going to be such a pain in your ass for the next nine months."

They both chuckled through the tears. "Closer to seven months now. Even less, maybe," she replied. "I think we might have gotten lucky on the first try. Or maybe the second..." They laughed. She looked into his eyes, leaned forward. They kissed once, slowly. Came back again. They kissed for several minutes, just sitting there in the quiet car. Finally, pulling back, she said, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Scully. I still can't believe this. I'm not ready for this. But I intend to get ready."

"Good, cause I'm not going anywhere and we're doing this together." She yawned.

"You're exhausted. We need to go inside and you need to get some sleep. I will call the hospital and see how Skinner's doing. If you're up to it, tomorrow or the next day we can go and see him in Norfolk."

"Yeah, okay. Come on..." 

-------- The next morning, Mulder woke up and quietly went down the stairs. He wanted to serve Scully breakfast in bed. Yesterday had been long and exhausting, and she could use the rest today. He pulled the eggs out the fridge but then thought better of them. From what he remembered hearing some time years ago, the smell of eggs sometimes bothered women who had morning sickness. She had told him yesterday that she had hid the morning sickness from him for a few days because she didn't know if she was ill and didn't want to worry him. On a whim, she had bought a pregnancy test, but she hadn't expected anything. And then she was shocked to see a plus sign. 

Mulder decided that oatmeal was a safer choice for breakfast in bed, at least until she told him what would bother her and what wouldn't. He heard the upstairs bathroom door open and close, and then again a few minutes later. Guess he'd better get up there with her breakfast.

When he arrived in the bedroom with her tray, she was sitting half-propped up on two pillows, looking a little pale. 

"Scully, are you okay?" he asked, worried.

"Yeah, Mulder. It's okay. I just need to eat a little something to help with the nausea."

"How's oatmeal?"

"That's perfect. Mmm, thank you. Tastes good. Oh, and tea, too, thanks. I could probably use some saltine crackers on the nightstand here. We'll have to go out and buy some. They really helped the first time...eighteen years ago. God, what are we getting ourselves into?"

He chuckled with her. 

She finished up and then started to get up from bed. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Mulder. I'm just going to brush my teeth.”

"Sorry, Scully. I guess I'm going to be nervous for a while."

"S'okay. I like that you worry about me." She walked over to the bathroom.

"I'm going to call the hospital soon to check up on Skinner," he called out to her from the bed, making sure she could hear him from the bathroom. She finished up. As she returned and approached Mulder, who was sitting on the bed, she unbuttoned her pajama top.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to seduce you," she responded with a grin.

"Really?”

"Really. I've missed you the last few days. And I’m feeling a little better right now." She smiled at him, biting the edge of her lip.

"Is it safe?" He touched her belly, looking down at it while she stood still between his legs.

"It's quite safe now. Nothing will happen to the baby. Now kiss me."

They sank back on the bed, the call to the hospital temporarily forgotten. -----------

Fluff to be continued...

This is my headcanon.

There, I fixed it for you.

[agathabridgerton]

if you see him in the street / walking by her side / talking by her side / have pity / they are going through the unimaginable

— “It’s Quiet Uptown,” Hamilton

[lilydalexf]

👽 X-Files “My Struggle IV” Fic Recs

Here are some good fics involving the episode "My Struggle IV" (the season 11 finale). This list is for @leiascully and her anon, who asked. Enjoy! Diner Talks by Living_Underground (@freckleslikestars) Scully and Mulder spend the year or so after series eleven getting to know a kid working in a diner they visit regularly. Family Heirloom by Baroness_Blixen (@baronessblixen) Set post-MSIV: Scully goes looking in the attic of the unremarkable house for the doll Mulder gave her in "Empedocles" for their new baby. housekeeping by audries The porch lights are on. That’s the first thing he notices. [Only 2 of 4 parts are completed, but there's not a huge cliffhanger] In Loving Hands by Baroness_Blixen (@baronessblixen) One day Jackson just shows up at their house. In the Morning Hour by aster_risk (@poeticsandaliens) His voice peppers her mind with questions, the ordinary and the extraordinary. With them come snapshots of his daily life that Scully treasures like precious postcards. If you can move things with your mind, Will asks her, is that called telepathy or telekinesis? How do I wash a coffee stain from a white t-shirt? Can I put this burrito in the microwave with the wrapper on? Slowly, strangely, Mulder and Scully re-connect with their son. It's A Brand New Day by @storybycorey Post MSIV. They sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, no space between, his hand warm and heavy on her belly, anchoring her each fitful time she wakes. Jackson Van de Kamp's Not-so-Final Repose by cecily_sass (@cecilysass) A dream café. A dead old man at a table. A message for Jackson Van de Kamp. Mystery, unconventional MSR, and family feels. It’s the post-revival Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose sequel you never knew you wanted! Learning How to Bend by @blackcoffeeandteardrops Post MS4. Mulder, Scully, & William come to terms with their new reality. Meg by Apostrophic (@mappingthexfiles) He had lived with grief long enough to learn you did not ignore happiness whenever it came. Two scenes, one before and one after a tiny someone makes three. Post-season 11. I’m coining the tag “no angst, just love.” Miracle by @poeticsandaliens Six times Dana Scully called Will a miracle and what that word really means. Morning Sickness by @sixhours "My Struggle IV" post-ep Of Monsters and Men, and a Woman part 1, part 2 by @snickerl I think I smell smoke. / Wine smells better than smoke. proelium and pervicacia by skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking) Post finale: Mulder and Scully connect with their son in an unconventional way. / Scully's pregnancy post season 11. [skuls also wrote a related fic, currently unfinished and unlikely to be finished: phantom weights] Unexepected and Certain Expectations by @mldrgrl Pre-episode Scully POV for My Struggle IV / A sequel to Unexpected and an epilogue for My Struggle IV Unlimited Future by @greekowl87 I tried to write a postep as soon as the credits roll to try and bring some semblance of peace or closure to the fandom. Mulder and Scully try to make sense of everything. Untitled by @lolcat76 Prompt request: a wish to fix the end of MSIV. Untitled by @purrykat First time making love after the 2nd baby. Extra special if Mulder makes it special and shows Scully that she’s still beautiful after having a baby.

[twogravesinsomecemetery]

I'm doing my first watch through of txf and I've seen so much frustration and sadness over iwtb and the revival (and seasons 8 and 9) and I just wanna say seeing your posts of the good things to come out of those helps me keep an open mind as I get to them and there have been lots of things I enjoyed about them (Babylon is my next ep), so wanted to say thanks for sharing those thoughts

Honestly, thank you for saying this. Not to use a Doctor Who reference to explain TXF rn, but it is very much about the pile of good things and bad things. Even if there are people who get frustrated over the revival and IWTB, then there are also people who adore them. (And there's more of us than you might think!) Even if the show wasn’t always flawless it was also incredibly happy, and honestly, if you can find contentment with what you’re watching it just makes everything so much easier to enjoy. <3 (Speaking as someone who's tried to find contentment with The Angels Take Manhattan for ten years... still haven’t managed it). 

I hope you haven’t seen too many major spoilers about the revival, (sorry if my post gave you any), but I think you’ll def like Babylon and its god-tier ending scene!! Feel free to vent your thoughts on MSiv to me when you get to it too !! I wish I could watch txf for the first time again <3