"Comrade" but in a gay way

| Daniel | Brazilian | 20 something years old | Pronouns: He/Him | comics and communism enthusiast | non practicing ficwriter and fanartist |

[wintersnails]

Mulder: so… should we finally start sharing a hotel room now?

Scully: i suppose that will help us stay on budget

Mulder *taking off his pants*: exactly gotta keep Skinner happy

Scully *throwing her bra to the side*: expense reports will be so much quicker

[mamuscript]

okay I was talking to a myoot about this a few weeks ago. the absolute sisyphean weight that GA is carrying in this scene because. this is? three seconds of film? and she manages to convey that 1. she’s proud and excited to tell him that she has a date, 2. she wants to appear aloof while doing so, 3. she wants to see how he reacts to this knowledge, then immediately 4. she’s a little embarrassed at having felt all those things because they’re flirty and not professional, so 5. she tries immediately to get a handle on herself and return to being Professional Scully.

(gifs by @dailyflicks)

[esotericsulker]

They're emailing each other

[artradio]

spooky mulder

[dancinque3n]

David Duchovny's episodes let Scully laugh and Gillian Anderson's episode lets msr happen I think together they could have made the best X-Files episode in the world

[rosenkranz-does-things]

inspired by that bit in Home when Scully tells Mulder that if he had to do without a cellphone for two minutes he'd go insane

[ennabear]

watching the x files in public but shaking my head in disapproval so everybody knows i don’t agree with chris carter and his writing decisions

[mulders-slutty-black-turtleneck]

[thursdayinspace]

Most iconic partnership in the history of partnerships.

[ineffablebadwolf]

What about your family?

Well, aside from the need for corrective lenses and a tendency to be abducted by extraterrestrials involved in an international governmental conspiracy, the Mulder family passes genetic muster.

[milanesa42]

“The employees need a larger salary” “hmmmm large celery”

[h0lywaters]

“agent scully is already in love” okay and breaking news water is wet

[and-the-rest-of-the-universe]

@edierone’s golden addition to this post

[pretty-fishy]

Must suck to be Dana Scully,

She's here offering completely reasonable explanations for things that happen then Mulder turns around and says something like "No as you can tell by this slightly out of place chair, this is clearly the work of the Badadook"

And then it is in fact the Badadook, like I would be so annoyed all the time

[userfinalgirls]

Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia Organa

STAR WARS (1977) dir. George Lucas

[nodded]

Go out there, and make them remember you.

THE HUNGER GAMES: SUNRISE ON THE REAPING (2026) dir. Francis Lawrence

[numinousmysteries]

more a headcanon that got out of a hand than a fic. tw: 2020. that whole thing. [on Ao3] @today-in-fic

For years they feared a mass contagion of extraterrestrial origin spread by swarms of bees. Instead, the virus that grounds the world to a halt is an earthbound molecule transmitted invisibly through laughter, kisses, shared spaces, and spoken word.

A pall falls over the house. Banished from campus, William half-heartedly watches lectures on Zoom. Mulder starts the tiger show but turns it off in disgust before the first episode ends. 

Scully is the only moving part, chugging along in sharp contrast to their inertia. She’s long existed in the liminal state between the sick and the well, the living and the dying, but the sheer volume of devastation brought by this virus is wearing her down. Out of desperation, the hospital administration pulls her off her normal caseload and assigns her to the overcrowded ER. 

On a purely scientific level, the work—the once in a lifetime opportunity to chart a course of treatment for a novel virus in real-time—is thrilling. There are no textbooks, decision trees, or best practices; only instinct, trial and error. But this isn't just cells in a microscope—it's a protein expanding and exploding in human bodies. Bodies with children, parents, spouses, loved ones. Bodies that can no longer fit in the hospital morgue and need to be carried out to refrigerated trucks lining the streets outside. She's never felt like more of a failure.

She doesn’t want to talk about the work. She comes home still masked and then locks herself in the guest room in an attempt to protect them from whatever she’s been exposed to during the day. 

“Hey, Will,” Mulder whispers conspiratorially one April afternoon. “Did I ever show you how to pick a lock?”

But their son has all of her practicality and simply shakes his head in resignation. They compromise with a private salute to their personal healthcare hero, clanging pairs of All-Clad pans out the kitchen window to herald her arrival home. Even through her N95, they can tell it makes her smile. 

*****

William watches lectures and does his problem sets, but his heart isn't in it. Staring at the screen all day isn't as engaging as exploring physics in-person with his professors and classmates.

Mulder's got them in the habit of running laps around the property for exercise—or, as Scully says, to prevent bed sores and blood clots in their otherwise sedentary lives—and sometimes they'll do what William calls "prison workouts", push-up, planks, and bodyweight squats until their quads ache. They'll toss a ball in the yard or play one-on-one basketball on the rusted net in the driveway. 

Mulder knows their son is miserable, marooned in this house with his parents, so he's trying his best to keep the kid entertained. Secretly, he enjoys this little stolen time with his son. The kid should be out there, learning about the world and his place in it, but this could also be their last chance to spend every day together like this, and he knows better than to take it for granted. He just wishes Scully could be with them and not on the other side of a locked door.

They FaceTime with her and can hear her in-person voice preceding its echo on the phone by a few milliseconds. Will calls it mom from the future and mom from the past. They both wish she could be here in their present.

"Can we please come in?" Mulder begs quietly to the closed door one night, tracing the grooves of the wood with his fingertips. "We can all wear masks. I just need to see you." His voice cracks with need and desperation.

"I don't know," she says. "I'd never forgive myself if I got either of you sick."

"But you feel fine, right?"

"For now, sure," she concedes. "But I could be incubating the virus. Asymptomatic transmission is real and happening all over the world."

"What if we're outside, appropriately distanced, and wearing masks?"

He can hear her thinking, then sighing, from the other side of the door. "Fine. You two go outside first and sit on one end of the lawn. Then I'll come out in a few minutes and sit several feet away."

"Great!" He leaps to his feet to gather three lawn chairs and tell William the plan.

Muller and William set hers up closer to the house then measure out about six feet further out in the yard before placing two chairs for themselves.

They take their seats, put on their masks, and wait for her to emerge.

His heart breaks a little when he sees her. He watches her go to work and come home every day through the window but he hasn't noticed how thin she looks or gotten close enough to see the dark hollows under her eyes. He knows it's been rough for her. She’s tougher than most but this situation is unbearable. He's tempted to close those six feet between them and take her into his arms, coronavirus be damned.

"Move further back," she says, waving her hand off in the distance when she sees them.

He notices William is about to protest but he brings his hand to the kid's forearm and shakes his head. She's the boss in this situation. They're lucky enough to get to see her, what's a few more feet?

*****

The days drag on. Experts talk about flattening the curve. The curve does not flatten. Experts advise not buying masks, to save them for the healthcare workers who need them most. Experts say to wear cloth masks. Experts say cloth masks are not effective. The president advises drinking bleach. Bodies keep piling up. Scully keeps showing up for work and secluding herself at home. 

"Listen, why don't you quit or take some time off?" he asks her through the door. “We can afford it.” 

"I took an oath," she says solemnly and the conversation ends. He knows better than to fight against her sense of duty. He knows better than to argue she should put her own health first. The only cards he has to play would be himself or William, but she keeps isolating herself to keep them safe.

William itches to go beyond the property on his runs. The dirt road that leads away from the house is typically empty so Mulder doesn't mind if he does a few miles out and back.

"I’ll cross the street if someone is on the same side as me," William says. That's enough for Mulder.

"Should we make sourdough?" William asks one afternoon, briefly looking up from his phone.

Mulder doesn't know where this sudden culinary interest comes from but he's excited to do anything that gets William away from his screens. Especially something they can do together.

They consult with Scully who, of course, knows about starters and mothers, live cultures and pre-fermentation. From the other side of the door, they take notes.

"We'll cut your slices real thin and slide under the door," Mulder says.

The grocery store in town is doing curbside pick up so they order their ingredients online and then drive up to receive their bounty.

They mix the starter together first, watching as the liquid thickens and bubbles in a mason jar. It reminds Mulder of their old kitchen science experiments from William's childhood. Baking soda and vinegar volcanoes. Mentos in soda, although Scully didn't like the cleanup after that one. Just like he was as a kid, William is methodical and delighted by chemical reactions. 

The starter has to rest in the fridge for several hours so they take a break to research recipes. No one has ever made bread in this house, he thinks. Scully's a good cook, but she prioritizes nutrition and efficiency. She's not about to spend hours in the kitchen plodding through the steps of an elaborate recipe. Mulder is even less so. His culinary prowess has expanded from his bachelor days, when boiling water was an occasion, but he still sticks to the basics, evolving as William's tastes grew and matured.

Why had they never done this before?

"It smells good!" Scully shouts from her quarantine.

"At least we all still have our sense of smell," William jokes.

At night, Mulder and Scully sit with their backs to the door and try to inhale the familiar scent of each other. He hasn't touched or held her in weeks. It's the longest they've gone without physical contact since he was dead and buried. And the longest they've gone without sex since the first couple of months after the trauma of William's birth. He'd do anything just to hold her hand, rest his palm on the small of her back, bury his head in her hair. He knows this is harder for her, but it isn't easy for him either.

After William retreats to his room for the night, he knocks softly on her door. "Are you up?" he asks.

He hears her get out of bed and step over to the door.

"I'm up," she says, softly.

"What are you wearing?"

She gives him a hollow pity laugh. "I miss you."

"I'm right here.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, I know," he says. He knows in the deepest reaches of his being. "I miss you so much."

"Let's go somewhere when this is all over."

"Mmhmm," he agrees. "You and me on a beach. I'd say Will, too, but I'm pretty sure he's sick of us—or at least me."

"How's he doing?"

"He's holding up alright," Mulder says. "It's tough for him but I think he's putting on a brave face for my sake."

"He's a good kid."

"The best."

They're quiet for a minute. He strains to hear her breathing on the other side of the door and imagines her sitting there.

"Are you sure I can't come in?" he asks. "We can wear masks. Sit on opposite sides of the room."

"Mulder, no."

"I really want to see you."

*****

By May, it's warm enough for them to spend most of the evening outside, sitting or walking (at a safe distance) together for hours. Will retreats to his room to do homework or, they suspect, chat online with his friends, but Mulder and Scully like to stay out until after the sun sets, talking or just enjoying each other's company in the silence.

"You haven't gotten sick yet," he says, one night, initiating his latest plea to get her to open the door between them. "And I read case numbers are going down. Don't you think we can relax a little?"

"Trust me, I want to," she says with a sigh. "I miss both of you."

"You have no idea how much I miss you," he says, seriously.

"I think I have some idea," she says, the corner of her lips arching into a smile. 

"Do they know if this thing is sexually transmitted?" he asks. "We can wear masks. That could be kind of hot."

"If we're close enough to do that, I think we're close enough to infect each other," she responds quickly, making him realize she's also thought about it and that makes him smile in turn. 

They're quiet for a while, walking and feeling the air cool down as night settles over them. These chaste days feel like the early years of their partnership. He isn't sure what's worse—never having touched her or not being able to know once he knows how sweet it can be to be. Actually, he's sure the latter is worse. Now he knows what she feels like underneath him, what her skin tastes like, the sound of her little moans. They've had phone sex, quietly, from different ends of the house, after she let him leave her little pink silicone vibrator outside the door one night.

"I wish it were you," she sighed over the phone the first night.

"It can be," he said. "Just let me in."

"You know I can't."

Back on their walk, his dick pulses just thinking about the way she sounded on the phone that night. Husky, breathy, like a storm building and breaking overhead. The first time they were together, the force of her orgasm blew him away. He knew she wasn't putting on a show for him by how embarrassed she seemed afterward. He kissed her gently on her neck, her breasts, her collarbone as she came down, her breathing slowed, and let her know he'd never seen anything sexier in his entire life. Scully screamed when she came. She twisted her tiny features up in a gasp that seemed to straddle the line of pain and pleasure. Her whole body came along for the ride, spasming and pulsing, and he knew he'd spend the rest of his life trying to see that again and again. Fortunately, there were lots more times after that. As William got older, they'd learned to be quieter, which only made it more thrilling when he left for college and she realized she could come with abandon again. Of course, COVID brought him back, and sent her into the guest room, so they hadn't had a chance to be loud in months.

"Call me later," she says. It's a demand, not a request.

"You know I will," he replies. "I'm torn. I want to stay out here and be with you, but I also can't wait to go to bed and talk to you."

"Well, I was hoping we'd do more than talk."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, I know," she says. "I'm also looking forward to that."

Crickets fill the silence of the balmy spring evening. It's nice, just being with her like this. At this point, he'll take whatever he can get.

"I spoke to Frohike today," he tells her.

"Please don't tell me he's bought into these ridiculous conspiracies about the virus," she rolls her eyes over her mask.

"He has some interesting ideas," Mulder smiles. "But you know he's mostly harmless."

*****

She's among the first at the hospital to get her first vaccine dose that winter. William and Mulder celebrate from their side of the door with whiskey shots of their own.

"I still need the second dose in a couple of weeks, and then it takes two weeks after that to be effective," she says.

"But we're on the right track," Mulder calls out.

"The end is in sight!" William shouts.

“To our hero,” Mulder toasts, clinking his shot glass against the door. He never thought he’d be so intimately familiar with the texture of their guest room door. 

"Where should we go on our vacation?" Mulder asks. “You know, when this is all really over.” 

"I'm going back to school," William says.

"Good!" Scully calls from her side of the door. They both know how much he's missed his friends and his classes. In a few weeks they’ll pack him up with masks and home tests and warnings to avoid superspreader events. It’ll be a mostly virtual semester, but still good for him to get out of the house.

"I guess that leaves me and you, woman," Mulder says to the door. "Where am I whisking you away to?"

"Somewhere warm," she says longingly. "On the ocean."

"That can be arranged," he says. He's dreaming of long afternoons in the sun—well, as much actual sun as Scully will allow—holding on to her as they wade out into the ocean. Full days where they don't leave their hotel room bed. They've earned it. She certainly has.

[randomfoggytiger]

Fox Mulder, a Father: Compilation

Celebrating Mulder's Father's Day (a bit belatedly) by pulling together past posts and fic recs on the subject of fatherhood.

Have fun!

META

"Proving" Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth: All Parts

Mulder Was a Father, Even in the Desert

FICS

"Well, I Know It's a Boy" (Ao3)

Fox was holding him when she dropped by the next day, mouth agape in pride as his child wriggled against his shoulder. He’d politely surrendered his charge over to her zealous hands, nodding gently towards the bedroom with a mouthed, "Resting."

Season 8 Maggie Scully meets her newest grandson.

"Doesn’t Make Him Less of a Miracle” (Ao3)

But like all aspects in life, there were prices to be paid for peace; and little William Mulder-Scully chose closing time on an already hectic Monday to exact that price.

AU: Mulder tries to fight colonization and wrangle his "sea monster" child at the local ball pit.

"The Little Uber Scullys" (Ao3)

Wrinkling his nose, William fake gagged. "Ew, Mom."

"Ew yourself. Now, go wash up, stinky boy. You've got an early hair appointment tomorrow."

"Ooh, stinky boy," her dad chuckled, chasing Will's ribs while her brother ducked and dodged the exit assault.

AU: Mulder and William discover Lily's slugging habits.

Son of Egypt (Ao3)

A frantic, thorough, and looping search confirmed it: the Will Van De Kamp born to Samantha Van de Kamp existed only after William Mulder-Scully was adopted out.

AU: William realizes he's been raised in the crumbling ruins of the Consortium.

“There’s the Moon Again” (Ao3)

“And then… what? He, he just waltzes out of our lives and back to his fairy tale? Is that it, Mulder? Is that what always….” She stopped, tried to halt her shaking shoulders. Sipped her hot coffee and blinked her eyes and avoided his head-turn as long as she could.

“Scully,” he said, his voice lowered with conviction. “He’s ours until you say so.”

COLLECTOR'S EDITION FIC LISTS

Fics That Fit My Niche "Dad!Mulder" Likes

Everyone's been going wild for Mulder the Family Man-- understandable-- so I threw together my favorite fics/meta (because they're just as good to me) in one big hodge podge.

MORE Fics That Fit My Niche “Dad!Mulder” Likes

You know I had to do it.

It took almost a week, but here it is: Round Two.

Dad!Mulder, His "Mini Me"s, and Sports 

Mulder deserved to bond with his "mini me"s over any sport under the sun. Here are a few fics that do just that.

S9, The Season of Secret Dad (Long Fics) 

There will never be enough content to make up for the robbery of canon post S8– parenthood and readjustment and healing for Mulder and Scully with their son, whether that has a Conspiracy attached to it or not. These fics try to bridge that gap (and shoutout to @welsharcher’s coining of the phrase “Season of Secret Dad”.)

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!