#msr fanfiction

[txf-fic-chicks-blog]

The Anniversary Collection

Hi philes, it’s been a long time! Far too long if you ask us.  Would you believe that 7 years ago today we posted our first recommendation? In celebration of our 7 year anniversary, we reached out to a few old friends and asked them to write a little something anniversary-themed for what we are calling, The Anniversary Collection. And hooboy did they come through! The collection will be updated throughout the day as more stories are added. 

Thank you writers for collaborating, for joining forces with us to bring a solid list of new recommendations!

Thank you readers for still being here, for still showing us love even long after we stopped being active. We appreciate the messages of love and support over all of this time. 

We love you all!

Patty and Kristin

Click here for The Anniversary Collection

[jessahmewren]

The Ship questions - Mulder & Scully, #15. 🤩👽

I was so excited when I got this ask! I haven't written for Moose and Squirrel in ages. Thank you, friend.

I hope you enjoy. This is what I came up with.

Based on this prompt list (I'm still taking requests!)

Scully watched he scenery slide by in green/blue flashes. They’d been driving for ages. Her tattoo itched, but she couldn’t discreetly scratch it without Mulder noticing, and it was still a sore spot for him.

Ed Jerse was a sore spot for him.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to her…his rebuttal to her rightful assertion that it was her life and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. She pursed her lips, still gazing out the window as the world zoomed by. “Yes but it’s my—“ What? My what, exactly?

She chanced a glance at him. His plump lips were working on a sunflower seed. It was a disgusting habit, and she’d never had the gumption to tell him. He was spitting the shells in little cup he held between his legs.

“Jesus, Mulder. Can you toss those out the window?” Her brow was furrowed…she could feel an indescribable need to be cross with him…to pick a fight. She couldn’t scratch the tattoo, but she could do this.

Mulder looked over at her, his eyes narrowed. He made a show of working the shell out of his mouth and holding it between his lips. He cracked it with his teeth and spit it into the cup.

“No,” he said tersely. He stepped on the gas with a little more gusto, barely imperceptible, but she noticed. He kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel, little cup of sunflower seed shells stuck between his legs.

She sighed, resting her head against the window. They had hours to go, and she could use a stop…some fresh air to clear her head. Mulder’s simmering anger and annoyance at her lapse in judgement with Ed Jerse was making the confines of the car claustrophobic.

“What’s your problem, anyway?” Mulder asked her, his jaw tight. Scully whipped her head around. “I’m not the one with the problem,” she spat.

Mulder guided the car off the road and slammed it into park. He was deathly quiet. He put the cup of sunflower seeds in the cupholder, leaving the car to idle.

Scully rolled her eyes and opened the door. She paced beside it on the grassy shoulder. There was nothing but fields of green for miles…they were in bum-fuck-nowhere looking into a supposed miracle birth. Again, his idea, not hers.

She had her hands on her hips. It was hot. A bead of sweat rolled down her back, further irritating the tattoo. She heard the car door slam and closed her eyes.

“Talk to me, Scully.”

She whipped around, hands balled into fists. She was vibrating with so much pent-up anger she wasn’t even sure she could form words. Mulder stepped forward, closing the space between them. He was wary of getting too close, so he stood looming over her. He was so stupidly handsome and tall, she thought. It only pissed her off more.

“What did you mean to say, Mulder. 'It’s my what?'” She looked up at him, eyes softening a little. The sun was behind him, and it threw his shadow between them. “What claim do you have over me? We are work partners. That’s all.”

A muscle in his jaw clenched, and if she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was still eating sunflower seeds. But they were in the car, which was still idling.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he mumbled in that sultry bedroom voice of his. It made a different type of heat unspool in her belly.

She pursed her lips, mouth turning down at the corners. “I don’t know what you mean, Mulder. You’re not making any sense.” Her anger had abated. She was tired. Hot and tired.

Mulder, closed the distance between them, a large hand on her upper arm. His hazel eyes were darker than usual. He spun her around, pressing her front to the side of the car.

“Lemme see it,” he gritted out. “I want to see it.”

Scully swallowed, pulse racing. “Mulder—“

His fingers toyed with the edge of her shirt, asking for permission. She swallowed. “Go ahead,” she said tightly. “If that’s what you want.”

She felt the warm breeze hit her skin as he lifted her shirt in back. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, and she couldn’t hide the little gasp that escaped her lips.

He pulled them down just an inch, revealing the ouroborus.

She was trembling. She had her hands braced over the car’s hot metal roof. The burn on her palms distracted her from the burn between her legs.

Mulder thumbed over it, gathering the sweat that he collected there. He pursed his lips. “It’s peeling,” he said dispassionately.

Scully swallowed. “Yeah,” she said.

Mulder stared at it a few more moments before he pulled her shirt down. He placed his hand on her back, a small press of apology. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I take a lot for granted. I take you for granted,” he muttered.

Scully held her breath. She pushed off the car and turned around to look at him. His eyes were wet. Her previous anger had left her drained and shaky. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Come on Mulder. Let’s get back on the road.”

Mulder nodded. His long strides took him to the driver’s side in just a few steps. Before climbing in, he took the cup of sunflower seeds and poured them out onto the ground. They were back on the road without a word, miles of green farmland stretched out in front of them.

[cultureisdarkbeer]

The pads of Scully’s fingers rubbed at her forehead. There was a dead body split open on the table and she had forgotten which organs she had already removed. Concentrating on the work today became more difficult as the clock slowly inched forward. With every step she took, she ached for Mulder, from Mulder, and the hours they had spent destroying the springs of her mattress. Or maybe it was the couch. Or even possibly from testing the legs of her dining room table.. then again, it could have been while draining the apartment complex of its hot water during their long shower… 

Continue Reading

@ms31x129 @today-in-fic

[spanishrose2002]

450 Fics!

I hit 450 published fics today, and I decided to celebrate myself!   Of course, I wouldn’t have published that many (since many do go unpublished) without all you wonderful people who support me by reading, talking fic with me, sending me prompts and requests, and (super-importantly) letting me know that you’re reading and want me to keep sharing!   Thank you!  I hope you’ve enjoyed something from the selection, and I hope there’s much more to come!  Have some virtual cake!  

[agent-starbuck]

Post-Detour. Somewhere in North Carolina. Mulder decides to make it up to Scully after ditching her to go chase Mothmen.

--------

After a quick shower, he throws on a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt before trekking through humid night air to the motel office. The bell jingles as he steps inside and he squints at the harsh fluorescent lighting, searching for the clerk behind the desk. Reruns of Three's Company drones on in the background.

“Uh, excuse me?” His tired, weary voice scrapes coarsely against the column of his throat.

A middle-aged man emerges from another room, resting his forearms on the counter while twirling a toothpick between his lips. He gives Mulder an unamused, blank stare.

“Whatcha need?”

“I was, um, wondering if you, by chance, had any of those little bottles of wine?” He pinches his index finger and thumb together for a visual. “Or any alcohol, really. Doesn't have to be wine. And cheese, too. Any kind of cheese would do--”

“This look like the Hilton to you, mister?” the man interrupts in a thick, southern drawl. The sitcom audience laughs on cue through the tinny speakers on the TV.

“Ah, no. No, it does not.” A self-deprecating grin tugs at his lips as he turns to walk out the door before stopping to peek his head around the frame.

“Vending machines?” He inquires out into the void.

“Around the corner next to the ice machine. Ice machine's broke, though,” the voice behind the wall replies, and he digs through his wallet for the crispest dollar bills he can find.

Back in his room, he locates the small tray that the ice bucket usually sits on and arranges his vending machine goodies, along with two flimsy plastic cups, on it. The presentation is lackluster-- almost comical-- but it's the best he can do under such short notice. He looks in the mirror to run a hand through his drying hair, and clears his throat, before walking over to Scully's room next door.

His knuckles rasp across the solid, metal door, and he waits anxiously, scuffing his shoes against the rough concrete outside. Her light is still on, the soft glow diffused by the curtains drawn shut in the window and inviting a swarm of insects to dance around what little light is bleeding through.

He hears the click of the lock moments before the door finally opens. Scully stands before him in a pair of light blue cotton pajama shorts, a white tank top, and a darker blue silk robe, still open in the front. A pair of reading glasses are perched precariously on the tip of her nose, and she's clutching a book at her side, her fingers caught in the pages like a makeshift bookmark.

He struggles not to stare at her with a dumbstruck look on his face but is wholly unsuccessful. God, she is beautiful-- standing there like a sleep-mused goddess. Seeing her like this feels intimate. Sacred. Any moment he will have turned to stone. It's what happens when mere mortals chance upon the Divine.

“Mulder? Is everything okay?” A crease forms between her eyebrows. He has the urge to smooth it away with a kiss.

“Yeah, um… can I come in?” He manages miraculously without so much as a waver in his voice.

She steps aside, and he walks past, standing awkwardly with his peace offering balanced atop his outstretched palm as she closes the door behind them. She doesn't say anything. Only nods curiously at the tray he's holding, setting her book down on the nightstand.

“I know it's not exactly wine and cheese, and I know I'm not supposed to be consorting with you in your hotel room,” he swallows as he puts the tray down on the table. “But I, I'd like to make amends for being a total idiot the other night.”

“Mulder… you didn't have to do this.”

“It was no trouble, really. For some reason the, uh, vending machine didn't have mini bottles of wine--”

“I'm shocked,” she feigns disbelief and he feels his heart grow lighter at her playfulness.

“I know! But I thought grape juice and highly, over-processed cheese and beef jerky sticks would be the next best thing.” He rips the clear, plastic covering off the cups and pours juice into each one.

“Mulder?”

“Mhmm?”

“That sounds like a terrible combination.”

His face is stricken with a look of disappointment as though she just told him Sasquatch doesn't exist.

“But, somehow, it's exactly what I'm in the mood for.” She offers him a breathtaking smile. He offers her a cup of juice in return.

“Cheers, Scully.”

Read more...

[muldermakesmehorny]

@cultureisdarkbeer @ms31x129 Since these are the names I see my mother interacting with the most. I'm sure there are others please don't be offended if I do not mention you by name. I want to thank you for giving my mother hours of enjoyment in her last days. I believe she mentioned reading novels by fans of the X-Files? She passed away and this is the first time I've had to think of what to say, but I felt I should acknowledge anyone who gave her such a gift and I didn't know how to do that other than her Tumblr account. Thank you again.

[willsdreamgirl]

amazon standing lamp ⋆｡˚ — wilbur soot x reader

wilbur soot x fem!reader

will has everything he could ever want, then why does he still feel so empty?

18+ | minors please dni! angst and smut

cw: mentions of sex, different sex positions, descriptions of sex, angst, mentions of anxiety, wilbur is NOT okay and neither is the author

word count: 600+

a/n: finally had the motivation to write after a HOT MINUTE. was inspired by wilbur’s new album, mammalian sighing reflex. angst, just BIG ANGST.

“midday missionary, midnight loathing, midnight cowgirl, morning smoking”

your fingers clutch the cream coloured sheets under you, and you spread your legs wide, as wilbur thrusts into you. the sound of skin slapping fills your shared bedroom, your moans fill his ears. “mm, will, just like that…” you look up at him, and he looks at you like he sees right through you. you search his face, his brows furrowing in deep thought rather than pleasure. you manage to string together a sentence between his methodical, almost calculated movements. “hey will… you okay?” he snaps back to reality, looks down at your body and up at you, with a small smile on his face. yet, his eyes look like bottomless voids. you don’t say anything, and neither does he. he keeps going until you orgasm, and pulls out. you sit up, not caring about the post-sex exhaustion starting to set in your bones. “will… you didn’t finish? you okay?” he looks down at the floor. in that moment, he looks so damn vulnerable, so small, all bare. he sighs and looks at you from across the from as he’s putting his boxers back on. “yeah, yeah. i’m good. just not feeling it right now…” something just wasn’t right. you bit your lip, and smiled shyly, walking across the room. you knelt down in front of him, hands running across the waistband of his boxers. “i can help with that…” he looks and you with tired eyes and pushes your hand away gently. “look y/n, not right now, okay?” he walks away, leaving you on the floor, slight carpet burn making the skin on your knees sting.

you decide to leave him alone for a while, watching his disappear behind the door of his home office. you only see him around 9:00 pm, when he comes out to grab a plate of dinner you’d called him to eat an hour ago. you get up from your chair at the table. “i can warm that up for you, love!” you offer. he looks down at his plate, before sighing. “it’s fine.” you watch him walk away from you, yet again.

you go out for a walk to clear your head. he doesn’t ask where you’re going. you return at midnight, the apartment so quiet as if it were devoid of all life. you make your way to your bedroom. wilbur’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed, fiddling with a half burnt joint between his fingers. he sighs as he senses your presence. he puts out the joint on the wood of the nightstand, and motions for you to sit on his lap. you straddle his lap, your cold thighs resting against his warm ones. he pulls you in by your jaw, and kisses you like a man starved, teeth before tongue. he tastes like weed, and if you didn’t love the idea of it, you’d almost be disgusted.

time passes and somehow, you two end up tangled in each other’s arms. you smile into his neck. he looks at you blankly, before turning his head to the side, looking at the amazon standing lamp sitting on the nightstand, as you ride him. you moan wantonly, throwing your head back, elated at finally having gotten your boy back. meanwhile, a tear falls out of the corner of wilbur’s eye. but he plays along, he could never hurt the best thing to ever happen to him. he’s memorized every detail on the amazon standing lamp, the only constant in his life.

he has everything he could ever ask for, then why does he feel so empty?

[pookie-mulder]

My Holy Grail Fics

After the past several months of reading TXF fic, here are some of my ultimate faves so far! I’d love to know what your holy grail fics are, as well. This fandom is full of incredibly talented writers!

(Also, if have any recommendations of fics you think I’d like, send them my way!)

The Boy on the Beach by @cecilysass

I read this entire thing yesterday. Ooh boy was it a page-turner! Time travel in fiction can get dicey, but this one handles it so well. I love how the time travel plot forced M&S to confront themselves and their pasts in order to better understand each other and move forward in their relationship.

Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013

This one should come as no surprise to you. It’s rare that a fic consumes my every waking thought and I spend every free second reading as much as possible, and boy, this fic delivered. I’m such a sucker for stories like this one where the character(s) don’t know if they can trust their own minds and have to really dig deep inside themselves to find the truth.

Pause by @cecilysass

Similar concept to Gaslight as far as the amnesia goes, but totally different vibes! I love the dramatic irony of the reader putting together the pieces before Scully does. It’s agonizing in the best way!

Fall Into Place series by @skelavender

My favorite WIP fic! I look forward to reading the newest installment every Friday. I adore the slowburn, UST, teetering-on-the-edge-of-something-more MSR, and LT is the master of it! This series is filled with heart-squeezy moments that make me feel like I’m melting into a puddle of goo.

X-File #02291996 by @skelavender and @7crowsinadress

Time loop my beloved! Such an interesting (and 🔥🔥🔥) take on this trope. I can’t wait to see where it goes!

Arizona Highways by Fialka

I’m always down for an Emily AU, and this one has such a compelling, angsty twist and an air of mystery that forced me to keep reading late into the night!

Tempest by MissyPennington

I love a good survival story! There’s something so delicious about two people leaning on each other both physically and emotionally to keep going. The follow-ups are incredible, too!

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog

Amazing Emily AU! Dad!Mulder is my weakness. Plus, I love the way they figured out how to treat her illness. It really felt like something that would happen in canon.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin by cuits

Beautiful soulmate AU! Only M&S could have literal, undeniable proof they’re soulmates and still overthink their relationship to a ridiculous level. And I ate it up! Give me the angst! The drama! The tension!

Emily AU by skuls

Last Emily AU, I swear! This series melts your heart in the first installment, crushes it to pieces in the second one, and then makes everything better in the finale.

[brenayla]

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, and for Scully so loved Mulder that she’s cracked his ribs to restart his heart and dug bloodied fingers into his mangled thigh to slow the gush of his femoral artery. If her unfettered belief in Mulder was enough to give him eternal life, the sun would burn out first."

ālea iacta est - AO3

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.

A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!

And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1/34 - ink and paper

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She'd never have guessed...

Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”

Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.

stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully

loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #

The word “family” is circled three times.

She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She’d never have guessed…

“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.

“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.

He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”

“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.

‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.

Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 

She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders

“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.

His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.

She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.

Typical.

“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.

She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.

“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”

He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”

“But you're looking into it because…”

“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”

She stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Since when?”

Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.

He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”

It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”

What does she say to that? Is she interested? 

“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”

He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.

“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.

She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”

“Scully…” he tries.

“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.

The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.

He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.

In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.

He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.

He picks up the pace.

“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 

His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 

“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”

“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”

Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 

“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”

She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.

He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 

“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.

There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”

This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.

“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”

She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”

That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.

Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.

“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.

She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.

“Usually.”

She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.

“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.

“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”

He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.

“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”

She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”

He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.

“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”

“Talked about what?”

He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.

“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”

She blinks back at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”

She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.

“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”

She chuckles softly.

“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”

With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.

She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 

She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.

“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.

“I was just worried about you.”

She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”

“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”

Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 

Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.

His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.

“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.

“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”

He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 

“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”

He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.

She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.

“Okay.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @bby-got-books @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @mulderscully @oofubad @p34chi @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

[the-redhead-in-a-dress]

I'm desperately trying to find an X-Files MSR fic where Mulder and Scully end up sleeping in the same bed a lot and I think it gravatates to more over time. But I think the main plot is they end up staying over at each other's places/sharing a bed(?) because of their trauma and sleeping better with the other person by their side. I think it's set in the early seasons but not 100% sure. I know I loved reading it on AO3 but for the life of me can't remember the title nor can find it after many many hours searching.

[mindibindi]

⭐(Re)Visit a Classic XF Fic [7/7]⭐

So, as part of The X files 30th anniversary celebrations, I took it upon myself to highlight some of the AMAZING authors I first read in this fandom. They were a HUGE part of my experience of watching the show during it's original run. For shippers, the original run was a marathon in faith, frustration and endurance. We were judged, dismissed, ridiculed and gaslit throughout. But in fandom, we found solidarity, and in fanfic, we found solace. (AND we won in the end, so THERE).

As a retired author, I also have a vested interest in pleading the case of older writers. Fanfic archives are libraries, not social media sites. Don't just read whatever comes up most recently in your feed. Search. Discover. Explore. Experiment. Yes, there are some differences in older fanfic culture that are evident in these seven recs. Characters may be understood differently in their original context, narrative style may also differ (more 1st/2nd person address that even addresses the reader directly), there may also be less clear trigger warnings and fewer opportunities for feedback/community. I know we all love AO3 and are grateful for its good works. But don't forget that there are other avenues through which to explore fanfiction.

For this final rec, I want to return to the first author I rec-ed. I urge you to check out her other works. The characters are sometimes a little overwrought or OOC but even when they are, her stuff is tremendously messy, sexy and fun. Here Mulder and Scully are perfectly in character in a rather rauchy scenario. (If you're a babyphile and you don't know the politics at play then ask an auntyphile to fill you in). I will post links below for all the classic authors I have rec-ed, along with a few archives you may want to check out.

Rec #7:

MSR, obligatory stakeout fic

Prompted by current events, Mulder and Scully discuss oral sex

Some knowledge of the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal required

READ MORE BY:

Rachel Anton (inc lots of Krycek content)

Beduini

Suzanne Schramm

Shalimar

Terma99

Narida Law

The search engine is not great but Gossamer IS still up and running:

X-Libris is a current archive that is doing a great job of recovering older works. You can suggest fics to be added to the site or even ask for a long lost fic to be tracked down!!

Smaller archives but also still up and running is Whispers of X and XFSM, both of which are good for different pairings, threesomes and a bit of kink, if that's your jam.

In particular, if you're into BDSM then you may want to check out Kristel St Johns "Aphrodisia" which does a beautiful job of putting Mulder and Scully in a v different, intense kind of physical relationship . The novel is unfinished but definitely still worth a read.

[darkesttimelinestuff]

"Do you recognize this?"

Day 7 of Fictober! How am I still doing this? Really proud that I've been able to write every day.

I had a lot of fun finding pictures for today's story.

Prompt #7 - "Do you recognize this?"

Find me on Ao3

Scully had turned her office upside down and inside out looking for her passport. She knew exactly where it was. Where she always kept it. Or, at least where it should have been. 

Maybe Mulder had moved it. He sometimes tossed things aside without realizing it. That’s how she had lost her paycheck once, until it turned up at the bottom of some of Mulder’s papers. Neither was quite sure how it had happened, but from then on Scully was certain to keep important documents as far from Mulder’s reach as possible. 

“Mulder, are you sure you didn’t touch the things in my desk?” she called across the room.

“I’m sure!” he shouted back defensively. “What business would I have going through your desk?”

“Because I always keep my passport right here,” she said, pointing to a drawer, “and I don’t see it. And if I can’t find it, we can’t go to Mexico tomorrow.”

Mulder stood and crossed the room to her desk. “Let me check,” he offered. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, right?”

She motioned with her hand, giving him permission to look.

“Be my guest, but I doubt you’ll find it. I’ve searched that desk twice,” she insisted, slumping in a nearby chair in frustration. 

As Mulder bent over the desk in concentration, Scully checked out his ass. Even in his 50s he had killer buns! 

“It’s so unlike you to misplace these things,” he was saying. “I’m a little disappoint…”

And then he stopped. 

“What?” she asked, worried that maybe he found her passport but it was damaged or expired. 

“Oh wow!” he exclaimed, standing up and examining something she couldn’t quite see. 

It looked like a small paper and she suddenly became very self-conscious. 

“What is it?” she asked, reaching for his hands, hoping to pry them open.

“Oh, it is the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” Mulder said, “and I can’t believe you never showed me!”

“Mulder, what is it?” she demanded, cursing her short stature. 

“Do you recognize this?” He held up a photograph.

“Oh, my god,” she said, feeling both embarrassed and defensive about the picture. “I haven't thought about that in a very long time.”

The picture showed a young Dana Katherine Scully on a bed in a black lace push-up bra and panties. She hated that word, but there was no better term for it. They weren’t underwear; that was too plain. No, these were panties. The kind a partner used their teeth to slide down your legs. 

This was Dana, not Scully, and she was bold and sensual, rather than pragmatic and sensible. Her smothering eyes said, “come fuck me,” and you couldn’t deny her anything. 

“Well,” Mulder said, licking his lips, “this is fucking incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I love this! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”

“There are,” Scully said hesitantly, “more.”

“I need to see them,” he replied, almost too excited.

“Well, this was back when I first started at the F.B.I.,” she said, searching for the other pictures. “My friend suggested it and I don’t know what possessed me, but it seemed like a good idea.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, not at all! I’m very proud of these pictures. But they’re more for me than anyone else. Ah! Here they are,” she said, handing him the rest of the photos.

The pictures showed a progression of Dana Scully shedding a man’s white button-up shirt, so that she was hugging her lace-clad breasts, posing suggestively on a bed, and, in the last one, looking right into the camera with nothing but a sheet wrapped around her.

“Well, I would be honored if they could also be for me.”

“They aren’t a secret. I just forgot about them,” she admitted. “So much has happened to us.”

“We’ve known each other, what, over twenty years,” Mulder said, “and you never thought to show me these?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“I’m really glad you lost your passport,” Mulder said, studying each and every photo.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: The X-Files

Sample Size: 17,626 stories

Source: AO3

[spanishrose2002]

400 Fanfics

I just noticed on Ao3 that I have officially written 400 fanfics.  That’s to say nothing of chapters, word counts, or how many belong to each ship or fandom.  Simply, overall, I’ve written 400 works.   That feels like something to celebrate with...fanfic.  LOL

[agent-starbuck]

Hi, hello, to the two people who follow my Tumblr account...

I am happy to announce that my laziness (as a result of ADHD) has finally subsided long enough to allow me to put the link to my fanfic in my bio. Yes, that is correct-- you can now find the link to my AO3 within my bio.

You can either read to your heart's content (or ignore it), but all you have to do is click "my fic" to access it.