#txf fics

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

i found this txf fic and was SHOCKED that it doesn’t have more hits/kudos/comments because the writing style is so gorgeous and mulder’s and scully’s voices are so beautifully authentic. im sharing it here in the hopes that it reaches more people :)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[will-on-the-internet]

Pizza and Beer | Mulder x Scully

Summary: When Mulder arrives at Scully’s apartment with Halloween movies and promise of pizza and beer, neither of them expect to be wrapped up in each other by the end of the night. 

Warnings: None, though it has not been edited closely so there could be a few mistakes! Sorry!

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Please be kind, this is my first ever MSR fic so I am very nervous about posting! Let me know what you think. Also requests are open and you can find my taglist and masterlist in the links below! And thank you to @wolfish-willow​ @lunalovecroft​ and @unpredictablybittersweet​ for your input, advice and support!

Tagging: @cececroft​ @today-in-fic​ @wolfish-willow​

MASTERLIST! | TAGLIST! | REQUESTS!

When the phone rang at 3 in the morning, Dana Scully expected it to be an emergency, like an agent calling her to come down to a crime scene or Skinner demanding that she be at headquarters at once. What she didn’t expect, was to pick up the phone and hear Mulder’s calm and light-hearted voice on the other end of the line, his fingers tapping away at the computer keyboard in their office.

“Hey Scully, wanna go on an adventure?” Mulder asked this question like he hadn’t just woken Scully up in the middle of the night, and like it was the most normal thing to ever ask someone over the phone, with no warning and when the sky was dark. Scully let out a frustrated sigh and rolled her eyes, not that Mulder could see of course, before falling back against her pillows with a soft thump.

“Mulder, it’s 3 a.m.!” She was exasperated already, and she only felt worse after she heard her partner chuckle on the other end of the line. She knew he was smiling, knew his eyes were squinting slightly as he looked down at the notes in front of him, and also knew that he would be slipping his free hand into his pocket to fish out a sunflower seed.

“Exactly, the perfect time to go find out about the unknown footprints that appeared in Southern California last week. C’mon, we could make a little holiday out of it, go to a beach even?” Scully knew that Mulder was trying every trick in the book to make her say yes, but after only getting home at 1.30 am and not getting to sleep until 2 am, she just wanted to rest, spend the next weekend catching up on laundry, doing some reading, maybe even having a bubble bath. So, she shook her head, voice softening as she started to speak back to Mulder.

“Look, we just finished a case and got back from North Dakota only a couple of hours ago. I need some sleep Mulder, and I’m sure you do too. Now, I’m going back to bed, if you still wanna go monster hunting tomorrow than by all means call me, but for now, let me sleep.” She hung up then, not even giving him enough time to respond and she put the phone back on its stand, before pulling the covers further up her body, shielding her from the cold October air.

When she got up the next morning and started making herself a breakfast of sesame bagels topped with cream cheese, avocado and smoked salmon, she had forgotten all about Mulder’s late-night call. It also seemed like he had forgotten too, because he didn’t ring her at all that morning, nor even as the morning turned to afternoon and she was eating leftover pizza while watching re-runs of some drama on television.

But then someone was knocking on her door, the voice on the other side muffled by the sound of the television. Scully sighed as she stood up from her couch and moved to answer it. She checked the peephole first and let out another sigh and closed her eyes for a small moment before opening it, really not wanting to see her partner right now. It was the weekend after all, and weekends were meant to be free from work, from colleagues, and as much as she loved Mulder, she needed a day, just one day of peace.

“What are you doing here Mulder?” She spoke as she swung open the door, revealing her co-worker standing on the other side with a lopsided grin and two coffees in his hands, a plastic bag hanging from his arm. He came in without being invited, but they both knew that Scully wouldn’t have opened the door if she didn’t want him coming in, and moved to the kitchen table, placing the hot drinks and bags down before facing his partner.

“Well, I thought, since it’s Halloween weekend, and we’re too old to dress up and go trick or treating, we should order some pizza and watch some of the classics…” Mulder’s voice dropped off as Scully turned to him with an amused look on her face, pushing some of her ginger hair behind her ears. He poured the contents of the grocery bag onto her table, revealing multiple videotapes of the usual Halloween movies.

Scully let out a chuckle at his excited face and shook her head gently as she moved to pull two mugs from her cupboard, pouring the hot coffees into them and then passing Mulder’s to him.

“And here I was thinking I was going to have a normal weekend of watching junk on tv and sorting through laundry.” Mulder openly laughed at this, his eyes squinting slightly as he smiled at his smaller partner.

“You call that normal? I call that boring.” He walked towards her television set then, pushed the videotape into the slot and grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

After nearly six years of working together, Scully had learned that Mulder has a constant tendency to make himself at home in places he felt safe and comfortable, with her apartment being one of those few places. And with this in mind, she watched as he relaxed back against the sofa cushions, pulled off his shoes and rested his socked feet on the edge of the coffee table. He looked over to her, patting the seat next to him, and all she could do was send him an exasperated look before sitting down next to him, leaning against the arm of the sofa.

“Fine, Mulder. I’ll watch crappy scary movies with you. As long as you’re paying for the pizza and the beer.” Mulder nodded back to her in agreement, and then lifted the remote, clicking play.

The night started off normal, they were just two friends watching movies together in Scully’s apartment, sipping mediocre beer that was already making Mulder’s cheeks feel warm, and eating greasy pizza that they were sure to regret the next morning. The television screen glowed, and colours flashed around the room as Mulder watched the villain chase after a screaming girl, and Scully took in the way he was so focused on the movie. It was enchanting, watching his gaze flicker with every movement on the screen, how his face scrunched up when blood or gore was shown, how he rolled his eyes when something was so cheesy it was just stupid. Her focus was only pulled away when he started muttering, voice low and blending with the sounds of the movie.

“What was that Mulder, what did you say?” He looked at her after she spoke, glancing to her and then back to the television in hopes of not missing any more of the action that Scully had grown bored of.

“I just said that the detective has got it all wrong. The murderer isn’t going after blonde-haired girls because he likes blonde hair. He’s going after them because they remind him of his mother and sisters.” Scully didn’t know what to say to that, so she just let out an amused chuckle and took a swig of her beer, letting Mulder continue. “And damn it, Scully, these cops have no idea what they’re doing. They keep looking over the important details in favour of the unimportant ones, just so it fits their idea of the murderer and his motives.”

His voice was getting higher then, louder too, and Scully couldn’t help but watch him as he moved his hands around in frustration, before collapsing back against the sofa with a pout on his face.

“You know Mulder, not every detective can be as smart as you, not even fictional ones.”

“I know, but the production team of the movie could still do some research to make their plot seem more accurate. Right now, it’s just a load of rubbish.” He let out a sigh as the end credits rolled across the television screen and sucked down the last dregs of beer from his bottle, looking at Scully after. “You want another beer and more pizza?” Scully nodded, letting Mulder take her empty plate and bottle, and then opened her mouth to speak.

“Movies aren’t always supposed to be realistic, Mulder. People watch them and enjoy them because they’re a form of escapism, something to distract our selves from the real world when everything becomes too dark and scary. They’re not meant to be taken literally.” She spoke to him as he stood up and walked to her kitchen, watching as he pulled another two bottles of beer from the fridge and noticed how the corners of his mouth turned down slightly as he picked up a couple of pizza slices and loaded them onto the plates.

“I get that they aren’t meant to be taken literally, Scully, but they could have at least done better.” He huffed as he walked back over to her, handing her the beer and pizza and then sitting back down next to her with his plate on his lap.

“You really wouldn’t like E.T then.”

“Don’t even get me started on E.T, Scully.”

The two drifted back into silence after that comment, munching on pizza quietly as the next movie played on, and the sky outside was already dark when Mulder caught Scully not watching the movie for the umpteenth time, focused instead on something else.

Maybe it was the fact that she had already nearly finished two beers and a whole pizza, but Scully couldn’t focus on anything but Mulder. She felt warm whenever he sent her a soft smile, like her heart was going to burst when he let out a loud laugh, felt safe when the two of them started leaning against each other on the couch, not noticing that there was now no space between them. He caught her staring at him at that moment, watching him with all the concentration in the world as he turned to tell her a piece of information about whatever serial killer the movie was trying to portray. But he closed his mouth when he saw her eyes on him, suddenly feeling like there was no movie, no crappy pizza or beer. Just her blue eyes watching him.

“You know…you really should be watching the movie, Scully. You don’t want to miss the best bits.” His voice was quiet, nearly shaky as he stared right back at her, and he smirked ever so slightly when she realised she had been caught, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open in surprise. But she didn’t falter, didn’t let him get the upper hand as she just let out a charming smile that had his cheeks going red.

“Says the man who just called all the movies we’ve watched tonight ‘rubbish’.” They were so close to each other now, faces inches apart and the sides of their bodies pressed against each other. The movie was forgotten about, and so was their food and drink, especially when Scully spoke next. “Besides, Mulder, I’ve got something much more entertaining right in front of me.”

“Oh yeah? And what is more entertaining than the movie right now?” She didn’t give Mulder an answer straight away like he thought she would. Instead, she opted to wind her arm around his neck and pull him closer gently, fingers carding through his hair softly, ready to stop at any time if he became uncomfortable. But he didn’t, because he was pressing into her more, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed from the feeling of her hand in his hair, and hesitantly, he placed his hand right on her hip, fingers ghosting the material of her sweatshirt.

“You…” Scully kissed him then, gently at first because she knew that he might have pulled away. Yet he was kissing her back, so hotly that it was taking her breath away, skin warming and his tongue running against her lips that she nearly let out a loud sigh, before pressing herself to him in a flurry of tangled limbs and his mouth moving across her jaw and down her neck.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that she tasted like beer and greasy cheese pizza, and maybe it was the feeling of sweet relief that he was actually kissing her that Mulder felt like he was floating above it all, on top of the world and never wanting to come down as long as he lived. He fixated on the way her fingers felt against the skin of his arms, how she started to sound out of breath but also so wanting it made him want to cry, how his lips against hers was the most perfect thing he had ever felt.

“You know, when you came over wanting to eat pizza and watch crappy movies, I kinda knew this was going to happen.” Scully’s words came out in a whisper against his lips, and her hot breath fanned out across his skin as she pulled away ever so slightly, letting him run his hands up and down her sides.

“Oh yeah? How?” Mulder was pressing delicate kisses to her cheeks, jaw, neck, any skin he could reach and smiled as he made her blush.

“Well, think about it, Mulder. Alcohol, greasy pizza and late nights tend to lead to a person making some risky decisions.” He chuckled into her neck, fingers gliding over the skin of her stomach and waist after he slipped them underneath her sweatshirt, and she gasped into his hair at the feeling, before swallowing it back down and pressing her lips to the side of his jaw.

“And what do you think, Scully? Is this a good risky decision, or a bad one?” Scully didn’t even need to think about the answer to this question, just looked right at Mulder as he pulled his lips away from her skin, brown eyes melting at the sight of her smiling at him, beaming so lovingly that he wanted to cry.

“This was the best decision I ever could have made.”

Scully and Mulder wrapped themselves in each other, a cocoon of safety, love, warmth and trust surrounding them as they kissed on Scully’s couch, the movie playing on in the background and the pizza and beer going cold, forgotten and untouched for the rest of the night. And when Scully leaned her head against her partner's chest, and he kissed the top of her head and brushed his lips against her hair, she let out a soft sigh, lingering in this moment of peace. Until she remembered the conversation over the phone from the night before.

“Mulder?”

“Hm?”

“What happened with the footprints in Southern California?” Mulder squeezed her shoulder gently as he chuckled at her question.

“They were nothing, just some kids playing a practical joke. Although, a trip to the beach would have been nice.” Scully hummed in agreement, leaning back against Mulder, and before the two of them knew it, they descended back into blissful silence, focused only on each other.

Scully loved normal weekends. She loved the peace of just lazily reading a book in bed, having a long bubble bath and cooking herself a meal with a glass of wine in hand. But she also loved the weekends that crept up on her after a long week of solving cases, the weekends where she was left surprised that even though nothing went to plan, everything seemed to work out well anyway. And this weekend, the Sunday before Halloween seemed to be one of those weekends because even though she didn’t get any reading done, had take out instead of cooking and didn’t even get her laundry folded, Mulder was here, holding her, kissing her, loving her. And that was all she could ever ask for.

[cryptidsolo]

Post Demons

Scully finds out an interesting fact about Mulder’s childhood and confronts him on it 

Based on this :

48 hours after arriving in the hospital mid seizure and Mulder has graced her with his conscious mind barely 3 times.

4 grand mals and 9 complex partials and Scully considers him lucky they haven’t found signs of lasting damage.

She watches him, her expression carefully kept emotionless as he twists and moans in his sleep. His face screws up in pain and frustration and his hands stubbornly pull at the restrains but aside from that, he makes no effort to rouse himself.

52 hours, 4 grand mals and 10 complex partials and he turns a corner. It takes him nearly an hour to claw his way back into the world of the living. His eyes flutter before slamming shut again the harsh light and a whine escapes his lips. 

“Mulder,” Scully says, sitting up and peering at his face to determine whether or not he’s lucid this time around.

“Scully,” He moans, low and miserable. “Hurts.” So far it’s the most words he managed to mumble since he was admitted. It’s a good start.

“I’ll bet,” She says bluntly, raising an eyebrow at him. He blinks several more times before turning his head to find her.

She watches his hand snake out of the blanket, reach out for her but stop at the pull of the restraints.

“Scully,” He says again, wincing as he cranes his neck to see the obstacle. “Am I--? Why am I restrained? What happened?”

“You’ve been seizing. You pulled out your IV line so we had to put you in restraints so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“I don’t remember that,” His voice pitches slightly and his face creases in concealed worry.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You were pretty far out of it,” Finally she sighs and reaches out to grab his hand. It’s cold and clammy and it doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

He bites his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth while the gears in his mind twist and turn, trying to make sense of the surely limited things he remembers from the past several days.

“My mom’s house. The last thing I remember is my mom’s house,” He says finally.

Scully hesitates before speaking, carefully planning and plotting her next words.

“I called your mom… after you were admitted.”

“Fox had petit mal seizures as a young boy. Until about age 12.”

Mulder stares at her, waiting for her continue.

“She, um… She told me about your epilepsy.”

Shock registers on Mulder’s face and now it’s Scully’s turn to bite her lip.

“She told me you suffered from seizures as a kid, Mulder.”

The silence is deafening.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find out from your--”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Scully,” His voice is cold as he distances himself from the conversation at hand. “I’m tired.”

“We need to have this conversation. Do you have any idea what kind of hurdles I’ve had to jump through in the last several days to keep them from a slapping epileptic across your forehead? If the bureau finds out you already have epilepsy--”

“I don’t have epilepsy,” He says firmly, no longer looking in Scully’s direction, his eyes closed tightly. “It went away.” She never even noticed his hand slipping out of her own.

“Mulder, this diagnosis is career ending and the bureau doesn’t need anymore reasons to kick your ass to the curb,” She says, her voice painted with frustration.

Mulder’s lip wobbles and Scully feels a wave of guilt wash over her. She sighs and leans back in her chair, cocking her head to see him better.

“Mulder, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just… It’s just frustrated,” She says softly, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. His skin blends in a little too well with the white sheets of his hospital bed, apart from the red flush across his cheeks and the dark bags that stand out like bruises under his eyes.

“I’m tired,” He whispers. “But I promise… I promise we’ll talk about this later.”

“You got yourself a deal,” She says, a hint of a smile as Mulder’s head lolls to the side. “Get some sleep.”

They never do talk about it later. Just another secret swept under the rug, just another ditch to add to the list and just another headache to file away.

The rooms falls into silence.

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

had me so good for a minute there

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

bored and rewriting the biogenesis arc to make it cooler and actually make sense

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

the x files has a lot of unique tropey episodes (bad blood with the story told through two conflicting sets of flashbacks, monday with the timeloop, etc) but i feel like the closest thing it has to the beach trip trope is hollywood ad (especially with all the fan service). i’m thinking maybe my next fic will be a beach episode

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

my roman empire will always be mulder’s telepathic abilities. like they had the pieces there—mulder’s exposure to the black oil resurfacing in the form of telepathy, skinner still being controlled by krycek, and teena mulder is still alive to have a role in all this—but it’s possibly the worst mytharc execution (i’m only counting up to season eight finale) despite all this.

i love stories about characters with telepathy so when i got to this mytharc i knew exactly what was happening with mulder’s strange headaches and i was SO excited. but i think the mytharc had become so convoluted and fused with christian ideology that it was such a disappointment. this episode in particular was weighed down by the need to reverse his telepathy, the true identity of mulder’s father, the diana question, and the repeated threat of the alien invasion. it tries to tackle too much at the same time while also giving us beautiful msr moments (“my constant, my touchstone”)

i think biogenesis is great. i even enjoy some of the sixth extinction pt 1 but i think it’d be more valuable to the general narrative to have csm use mulder as a weapon rather than a resource. with mulder’s already fragile mind, csm could try to force mulder’s hand and offer him protection from himself in exchange for the personal use of his powers against the colonization threat. i think also considering the fact that gibson praise is a telepath, it would be useful to connect him to this somehow??? either way if i was writing it, id have scully break mulder out of the hospital and drive far away with him to escape the csm threat and maybe also circle it back to dreamland and the general distortion in the atmosphere around area 51. an opportunity for msr on the run like anasazi/blessing way with high stakes and also scully trying to help mulder adapt to his telepathic abilities like gibson has. i don’t think id focus on reversing them but i also understand its a bit threatening to the general plot

[deep-sea-gigantinism]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66996310/chapters/173112199#workskin

But just as the door to their room swings open, Scully’s face falls. She drops her bag onto the floor, and with a creased brow, she stares at the unexpectedly sparse interior. Her knuckles instinctively dig into her right temple as she averts her eyes from the most glaring issue—the singular queen-sized bed.

“Scully,” Mulder teases. “We’re not trying that whole ‘method acting’ thing, are we?”