642stories

Latest Posts by 642stories

do you have any gossamer specific fanfic recs?

Collector's Edition: A Gust of Gossamers

I do, indeed! :DDD

Decided to pick authors who have crossover with each other, be it collaborations or dedicated mentions.

**Note**: There will be typos-- will edit them out later.

Loose chronological order below~

msk's

Home by Another Way

Neither of his parents had offered to come, so she'd stayed in North Carolina though it meant a run in with Blevens.

"You should have been with your family. Not hanging around my hospital room."

Truth be told, part of her hadn't wanted to come home and face the sadness.

Post Beyond the Sea Mulder and Scully bond over their fathers.

Final Arrangements

He'd insisted on bringing her home from the hospital, even though her mother had offered. Scully had sensed that it was important to him and had suggested her mother spend some time with Bill before he had to return to California.

Post Redux II Mulder finds Scully's pre-Gethsemane funeral plans.

The Brixton Witch by Kel & msk 

She paused for a moment, one hand on the car door and waited for the lightheadedness to fade. Her hesitation wasn't lost on Mulder, who shot a concerned glance in her direction....

It wasn't as if she could order her body to hustle that cellular repair because she was tired of feeling cold all the time. If it wasn't for her silk-blend long underwear, she'd be shivering in the late October breeze.

She firmly shut the car door, and strode toward the shop. Mulder overtook her, reaching around to push the door open.

Post Redux II Scully and Mulder investigate a haunted bakery.

And So It Goes

I sat up, heart pounding, gasping for breath as Mulder stumbled into the room. His hair was sticking up in the back like a rooster's comb, and if I wasn't having a breakdown, I would have laughed. "A bad one?" he asked.

"I give it a nine." I ran a shaky hand through my hair as Mulder brought me a glass of water from the bathroom.

"Yeah, but I bet you can't dance to it," he quipped as he handed me the glass and sat next to me on the bed. I took a long drink and wondered why people bring you water when you're upset. He rubbed my back as I took deep breaths and felt my heart try to escape my chest. "Which one was it? The one on the examining table?"

I bitterly regretted telling him about that particular horror show.

Post One Son Scully and Mulder investigate another abductee case.

Jabberwocky by bcfan & MaybeAmanda & Amy & Tesla & msk & Marchmont, Lucy & Kmom 

Mulder's eyes moved from Sybil to Scully. "Fro--Melvin said you had information. What's up?" he asked, the lack of expression in his voice expressing the utmost suspicion.

Sybil leaned forward, and the lazy drawl was nearly gone from her voice. "I think the company I work for is running insurance scams with the undead."

Post Bad Blood Scully and Mulder find themselves-- courtesy of the Lone Gunmen-- investigating another suspicious Texan town.

Mezzo Luna

"I think Carmela's emotions were carried through the food she cooked to the people who ate it. She was angry when she made the ravioli, and the people who ate it became enraged." He sat back and folded his arms, as if daring her to take her best shot.

Scully took a sip of her club soda and fought a smile.

Mulder and Scully investigate a town embroiled with heightened emotions (and confront a few of their own.)

"The Freedom Squad Birthday by Kel & msk 

"He wants a Freedom Squad Battle Fortress."

"I'm sure he'll like that mitt just fine."

Mulder was grinding the ball into the glove, forming the pocket. Which really wasn't necessary, but still, that's what a guy does with a new glove.

"I went to World O' Toys and Big Box Toys in Alexandria. I called a couple of stores in Arlington. I didn't get very far."

"He didn't give you much notice," Doggett said. As in, maybe if you talked to him more than once a month, you would have known earlier.

AU-- Post Existence Mulder is unstable, flaky, and constantly in and out of Scully and William's life.

mimic117's

Supermarket Sweep

Why don't they include this in the training? Especially for guys. It's gonna come up at some point. It's inevitable. You get comfortable with each other. You trust each other. You'd even die for each other. So why shouldn't you do this one little thing, too? Easy, right?

Wrong.

There's too many choices.

S1 Mulder is sent on a period shopping expedition.

One Another's Best

"I miss her, Mulder."

He places his hand on her sleeve.

"I know."

Post Paper Clip Mulder understands why Scully is snappy at work.

War Stories

How do you burn a ring inside a shirt cuff? He just smirked when I asked about that one.

He does that a lot. Never really explains anything, just shrugs or smirks.

Post Bad Blood Mulder's dry cleaner is used to regular damage.

Imperfect Penance

It's a dangerous assignment, I won't kid you about that. I knew what I was getting into from the start, although I wasn't happy about going in without backup. Still, Skinner was right. I couldn't risk the operation just because I feel naked without her next to me. But she found out anyway. Wish I could have seen her worming the details out of Skinner.

Pine Bluff Variant Mulder is glad to have Scully on the "in."

Getting By

It took a moment to achieve upright and stable, but once she did, Scully found she could shuffle with the best of the octogenarians. She'd made it around the bed, on a steady course to reach the door in under twenty minutes, when she remembered two things. One, there was someone in her apartment. Chances were really good that it was just her mother, who'd called the previous night and used her maternal radar to deduce her child's state of health. But two, she couldn't be sure of that and her gun was safely locked away in her end table. She turned and looked. Way back there. On the other side of the bed.

She swiveled slowly toward the door again and caught sight of the baseball bat standing in the corner.

S6 (or S7) Scully is very sick... and very loopy.

Jersey-deviled

"So *anyway*.... I'd just gotten close to the door when it opened again. The woman standing there yelled, 'Hey! Come on in!' and hauled me into the room."

"Did you get her description?"

"I already told you I didn't. It happened too fast, and once I was inside the room, I was mobbed."

"Right. I forgot."

Mulder and Scully, on the road with concussion stories.

Jaded

"Well, you're not upsetting me, Miss, uh..."

Ms. Cool Cucumber doesn't like it when Hotshot has to remind her of my *real* last name. Wish I could see the look she gave him. She's the one in control here and she seems to think I'm hiding something.

First Person Shooter's Jade Afterglow has thoughts after Scully and Mulder's interrogation.

Coming up Roses

"Look on the bright side, Mulder."

"Is there a bright side?"

"Of course there is. This time you weren't hurt enough to need drugs, so I won't have to listen to your snoring at night."

"Sez you. And I do not snore."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

Mulder is scratched up by rose bushes.

Chip Off the Old Block, Chip Off The Old Block 02 - Serendipity, Chip Off The Old Block 03 - Veracity, and Chip Off The Old Block 04 - Duplicity

Trading glances with Mulder, Charlie took on the task of deflecting his sister's annoyance. "We were almost mugged coming out of the gym, Sis. No big deal. We just didn't want to worry you."

"Yeah." Mulder dove through the loophole he'd been handed. "It was just some hop-head trying to score a little cash. We got the bad guy, the cops took him away, and we're both fine. End of story."

Glaring from one man to the other, Scully crossed her arms and lowered her brows. "Why do I get the feeling there's something else you're not telling me?"

AU-- Post Existence Mulder, Scully, and William are awash in Charlie Scully misadventures. (Turns out, William's little powers are genetic.)

Emily Sim's

Aeviternal

He closed the door and scooped up his jacket and a sweater he'd left on the couch. They joined other discarded parts of his wardrobe on his bed. Good to know the bed was good for something.

Post Fire Mulder ruminates on the word 'love'.

Softly

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. It thrums through his body with every beat of his heart, with every step that he takes towards her hospital room. How many times over the years has he done this? He’s only been gone a few minutes to grab some food for himself, but he can’t shake eight years’ worth of hospital visit paranoia from his shoulders.

Existence Mulder keeps watch over Scully and their son in the hospital.

Satchie's

Dancing with Mephistopheles

"You've sustained an injury to your left anterior cerebral artery, which has caused some hemorrhaging into your brain. That's why you're having speech difficulties and the weakness on your right side. We're going to repair the damaged artery and evacuate the clot."

Brain surgery? You've really outdone yourself this time, Mulder.

Post Demons Mulder realizes that it was Scully's blood, not her tears, on his shirt.

Renaissance de Mal 

Scully glanced back at the abandoned vehicle. "Don't move. I'll bring the car over here and get you situated. Then we'll go to the emergency room."

Mulder gingerly flexed his limb. "Nah. I think it's okay. I just need to work out the kinks. Probably twisted it funny or something."

"Uh huh. It's the 'or something' that worries me.

S5 Mulder adds another injury to his list while chasing after a demon dog.

Claimed

Scully frequently volunteered to handle this unpleasant task, but his misplaced guilt prevented him from accepting her gracious offer this time. For crying out loud, he nearly died simply because he went to an out-of-town basketball game. It was so senseless and humiliating. No, he would fight this battle alone.

Mulder's insurance company has no mercy.

In Extremis

The worst part of my decline is having to face my trials alone. So many times I've debated whether or not to tell Scully about my illness, but I can't seem to arrive at a decision. For crying out loud, she's a doctor. Sooner or later she's bound to notice the subtle clues of my deterioration. Do I honestly believe I can keep this from her until the bitter end? No matter how I check out, she's going to be heartbroken.

AU-- Pre-Requiem Mulder is too afraid to tell Scully about his brain disease.

Jenna's

IOU

We spend the next few hours reliving the past 22 years through my eyes. I tell her everything, but mostly about my time spent with Scully and all that has happened to us over the last two years. She finally has gained the nerve to ask "the" question.

"This Scully, is she is a "partner?" Or is she is a "partner, partner?"

AU-- Mulder and Samantha root around in their parent's attic.

Amy's

Where are You, China Blue?

"Listen to me."

He looked off, annoyed.

"You're not listening."

"Yes, I am."

"Then stop it, Daddy. Just hear me out. I don't care anymore. I don't care. It used to be fun. It used to be this great game. 'Don't get caught, Sammy', you'd say. It was great. My whole life was great. Until last week, I thought it was going to be that way forever."

AU-- Post Redux II Samantha is sick and tired of the games.

Through the Mist

You approach my body. I expect to find shock, horror and sadness etched within every line of the face I know better than my own. Instead you are smiling, you approach me as you have every other day of our friendship, your eyes take in my body with reverence, a small smile is dancing on your lips. Your arms are held behind your back and as you approach the bed I can see the little game you have intended to play. A date. The remembrance of the word is almost unbearable. Your smile grows as you present my corporeal self with the bouquet from behind your back. I can hear you lightly mocking me, laughing at the fact that I had said that fortunes would come between us and normality. You are out to prove me wrong, not out of vengeance or spite, but because that is how you and I grow and move forward.

AU-- Scully's spirit watches a broken Mulder take her body home.

Tesla's (Site)

Get Up, Mulder

He rolled onto his side. He still had his gun. What was the problem? He felt blood trickling from his scalp. Someone must have sapped him. He was such an idiot. He wiggled his fingers, tried to send a message to his feet. They moved. Good. Houston, we have movement.

"Scully?" he said, tentatively. He was in a parking deck. Something about a suspicious sale of fertilizer. Great. Wonderful. He knew Kersh wanted to kill him, but he had thought it would be death by boredom.

FTF and S6 Mulder's many "passing out" adventures.

After the Ship

"When a man has to start all over again----when a profiler, who sees evil everywhere, has to start over again- ---how do you rejoin the world?"

Black's eyebrows twitched once. "Ah," he said. "But I have a connection to the world. I have my daughter."

Mulder grimaced.

Black reached in his pocket for a couple of dollars. "Yes, Agent Mulder, I'm luckier than you. You have to find your way back without a lifeline."

Post Three Words Mulder remains disconnected, dully wondering if he's a clone.

Kel's No Longer at Ease Here

He looked over at me, nodded, and turned back to look out the window.

"If that's true, you have my deepest sympathy," he said.

If that's true. Like I'm a liar.

"Squamash, Pennsylvania. Sound familiar?" I asked him.

That got his attention.

Vienen Doggett tells Mulder about his own experience with death.

Kmom's How I Want The X-Files To End

"Scully? You awake?"

"Sure, Mulder, I'm awake." The voice is deadpan. "I'm always awake at... uh... 3:35 am."

"Well, I was wondering... "

"What else is new? Make it quick."

"Do you think it's possible for dinosaurs to still be walking the earth somewhere?"

Post Existence Mulder and Scully have an early morning conversation about reinstatement.

bcfan's

Party Line

At Mulder's hurt look, Scully swallowed and closed her eyes. Get a grip, she scolded herself. You usually love his brilliance and energy. Thinking back to yesterday's discussion - childhood report card comments - Scully remembered she'd shared "plays well with others." Mulder had countered with "has a low tolerance for repetition."

That's the key, Scully decided. I have to find a way to pull us both out of this miasma of snarkiness. I have to give Mulder something new and different to think about.

Post Firewalker quarantine slumber party.

Wired

"I'm enlisting your help on a field assignment, but it's going to be undercover. Can you get away unofficially for a few days?"

"Well, I have some back vacation time coming. Agent Scully, might I ask-"

"No. I'm on an unsecured line. Drop off whatever paperwork you need to fill out and meet me in your own car - not a Bureau car, Agent Pendrell - at the food court of the Key Mall in Frederick. It's about 40 miles from D.C. Do you know where it is?"

"I'm sure I can find it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Scully nodded. She still had one friend in the FBI.

Wetwired Scully is on the run, calling up Pendrell for help and fleeing to her mother's.

Bon Voyage with an Open Book

"No, I'm thinking about early humans. It must have been confusing for the first people to dream - to go somewhere without going."

"I never thought of that before."

Mulder throws his arm over his eyes and murmurs. "I don't want to go somewhere anymore, Scully. It's too hard."

"Mulder, I'm coming over."

Post Paper Hearts Scully drops by with a present.

Hanukkah

Scully spotted it on a dusty shelf at a gas station QuikiMart, propped next to boxes of tinsel and faded red and green ornaments. A quick decision later, the miniature menorah was tucked into her plastic bag with sunflower seeds and a lottery ticket promising 38 million dollars.

Mulder looked surprised as he examined her offering.

"For good luck," she murmured.

Post Kaddish Scully buys Mulder a menorah.

Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation

"Perfect timing, Mulder. No haircut, but I just got rid of three days worth of beard. How are you feeling?" Scully again held the water to Mulder's lips as she spoke.

"Better," he quietly replied, then gestured weakly with his hand. "Roses?"

"From my mother. Don't worry, she signed my middle name on the card. I knew they were for you, though."

Mulder smiled, and Scully's heart turned over.

"I've been dreaming. Good dreams. You're in them, Scully."

Amor Fati Mulder recovers in an old folks' home.

The Breakfast Club

"I'm cooking this morning, Mulder. Do you have a toaster?"

"Of course. This place has all the accoutrements of civilized dining."

Scully stepped into the kitchen. "Where is it?"

Mulder squeezed around her and crouched low, fishing with long arms in the back of a bottom cabinet. "Ta da." He held up an avocado clunker from the 1970s, covered in grime.

Post Amor Fati Scully keeps Mulder well-fed during his recovery; and he begins to return the favor.

Pine-scented

The funny little Charlie Brown Christmas tree looked almost lovely if he squinted and turned his head sideways. Lights sparkled in the windows and soft music caressed the room. It was beginning to look a lot like happiness realized.

Will climbed on Mulder's lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor, taping wires to the branches so the baby couldn't pull on them. Will drooled on his shirt and grabbed his nose. "Gah."

Post Existence Christmas, with poop and romance.

Obfusc8er's

Mandates from Heaven by Obfusc8er & Xtreme Unction 

Mulder leaned against one of the columns, casually crossing one ankle over the other, and squinted. He was trying to make out the textual message in the shimmering, as he is wont to do every time he visits the Lincoln Memorial. As usual, the epistle hidden in the water eluded him. He and Samantha used to play this game as children, making up imaginary Pentateuchal directives during every visit to the national mall. He smiled at the memory of some of the more ridiculous mandates from heaven they pretended to see.

AU-- Pre-S1 Mulder sees a "happily ever after" doppelganger.

Spending Time

I close my eyes briefly, trying to blink away the encroaching fog. I bite my lip until it bleeds. Even as I fade, I want her badly. She winds her hands together and shoves rhymically on my chest in a futile attempt at resuscitation. How lucky I am that my doctor is the pathologist who never says die.

Post Dod Kalm Mulder and Scully swap music requests after a night of nightmares.

True Reflections

Over here! Don't forget me! Mulder shouts silently.

"Okay. If I'm leaving anything behind, I'll just come by tomorrow to pick it up. I'll leave you alone now." She turns to leave.

He cannot take seeing her walk away right now, and he swallows hard.

"I don't want to be alone."

Post Grotesque Scully stands by her shaken partner.

Russian Roulette by Obfusc8er & bcfan 

The next time he awakens, Mulder bites his lip hard to keep silent, but he can't prevent the shakes.

Terma Mulder's stint in the Russian gulog.

Kiss and Makeup

"I got here as soon as I could. You sounded...lonely."

He lowered his eyes before saying the last word, unable to meet her gaze. She nodded at him, noting that he was no longer making an effort to pretend that his visit was anything but personal. She backed away a couple of steps, leaving the door wide open. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He stood fidgeting with the cuff of his trench coat, waiting for a cue, for a hint of what she needed from him. He was willing to do anything for her.

She wanted to let him hold her, but a lump was growing in her throat. She was busy trying desperately not to cry in front of him.

Pre-Gethsemane Scully and Mulder have a frank conversation about her health.

Reverto Ad Noctum

I can smell your fear.

Detour-- the Mothman's perspectives.

Convergence

Everything is running smoothly, and it all results in a living being, itself interacting with other beings in much the same way the wandering atoms within it do. The organism moves, communicates with, and manipulates members of its own and other kinds to become a part of an always-jostling, writhing whole conglomeration clinging precariously to a tilted, rolling rock. The system is humming along nicely, taking care of itself quite well.

And then something goes terribly wrong. The steady fluid pressure inside the organism's network of blood vessels rises slightly, the heart pumping frantically. The adrenal glands release endocrine and adrenaline into the bloodstream, causing the blood to become a much more efficient oxygen carrier. The protein hasn't made it back to the lungs yet. The combination of speeding heartbeat and frantically pumping lungs makes the entire system shake and vibrate with anticipation.

Monday, and one of the many days Scully lived through.

Deus ex Machina

Her partner was staring at the low tree stump upon which Legere had been splitting wood. She walked toward him, stopping when she saw the subject of his inspection. The face of the stump was sawed off with a smooth surface. The gray weathered grains were stained black and brown in a starburst pattern. Scully leaned closer and squinted. The stain was more recent and thinned around the edges, revealing its true pigment. It was red.

"It's blood," she stated, mostly to herself.

S6 Scully (and Mulder) come face-to-face with a demon on one of Kersh's patrols.

Papercut

"Don't move, Mulder. I'm not yelling. You have a concussion...among other things."

He winced as he felt fat raindrops falling on him with stinging force. Everything before him was a blur. He waited, and Scully's form slowly took shape.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

He looked at her, but his thoughts were clouded by pain in his head.

"Yeah. Fingers."

Scully finds her partner after he narrowly escapes a tornado.

One Man's Journey

I sense a wave of trembling pass through her frame as I marvel at the implausibility of our circumstances. Her head rests against my chest, against the very place where someone, or something, split me open and tried to remove my faith in her. When they realized they could not have that, they took everything else?

Post Three Words Mulder is desperate to keep Scully around while (temporarily) helpless to re-situate back to "normal."

Waddles52 and Little Bullit 89's Spectacular Lights and Chili Nights

"The injection should make you sleepy. I'm going to talk to the manager and find out where the closest medical facilities are. You need to be seen by a doctor."

"You're a doctor," he said sleepily. The phenergan was beginning to take effect.

"That's true, but in case you haven't noticed, the vast majority of my patients are dead.

AU-- Mulder and Scully, emergency appendicitis, and an important "I need you."

bellefleur's

Kiss of an Angel's Wings

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her face. It's been like this for months now, maybe years, but never like tonight. Never like this. The memory of those baby blues riveted to him is seared into his soul.

Post Tempus Fugit Pendrell's last, besotted thoughts.

Iced

After the fact, it was hard for Scully to describe just what had occurred since it all happened so quickly. Ernie had just finished a rousing rendition of "Rubber Ducky," and as the music changed, the other characters emerged from the curtain, one by one, for the final number. Her focus, of course, had been on Big Bird, hoping for his sake that the show could end without incident. But as she watched him glide gracefully along behind Elmo in the long line of figures circling the ice, suddenly he broke formation and made a beeline for Oscar. With a dive at the garbage can, he and the Grouch slid toward the center of the rink, in a mangled pile of feathers and fur.

Post Detour Mulder and Scully are sent on an FBI undercover mission... as Sesame Street characters on ice.

When Cows Fly

Scully froze. She stopped breathing altogether, hoping that complete lack of motion would prevent him from waking further so that she could surreptitiously pull herself away. Slowly resuming her breathing, she began to plot another run at the alarm clock when a nearby rumbling startled her.

"If you wanted to cuddle you could've just asked."

Rain King Scully is flustered by Mulder's oblivious consumption of her space.

42 Flavors

Scully turned at Mulder's voice to see him pull up alongside her, and then she followed him out the door. One of the tables they had passed on the way in was now vacant, so they took their places in the wrought iron chairs flanking the matching round table.

"So, was it a good birthday, Scully?"

"Best one I've had in six months."

Post The Unnatural Mulder whisks Scully away to get gelato.

Combustion

She and her partner had faced this situation too many times, with one possibly losing the other permanently. Had this become almost mundane for them? To someone who had never faced this trauma before, the occasion magnified lost moments and things left unsaid. But for Scully, such thoughts had not even occurred to her, until now. Was it possible that she may never see Mulder again and never have the chance to express how she truly felt about him?

Mulder survives a bomb blast cave-in; and reunites with a relieved Scully, ready to take the next step.

In Heels

You'd think by now I'd be used to getting ditched, but with Mulder, it was never about gender. Sure, he was trying to protect me from taking the same stupid risks he was, but not because he thought I was a liability. That doesn't mean it didn't piss me off, but this--this one was a personal insult. And I don't like being insulted.

Mulder's swollen ankle prevents him from joining Scully and a misogynistic detective on the field.

Mother Love

Scully had invited him to join her and her mom for brunch that Sunday, but he politely declined and explained simply, "There's something I have to do." She accepted his excuse without question, perhaps understanding, or simply respecting his need to open up to her in his own time.

Post Sein und Zeit Mulder visits Tena Mulder's grave for Valentine's Day.

Triple Returns

"The Son."

Scully and Hughes both turned to look at Mulder who had now moved into the living room and was standing over the tape outlining where the body had fallen.

"Pardon me?" Hughes inquired.

"The Son. Daniels was the only son in his family, just like the second victim of each trio before. The original killers saw themselves as an unholy trinity, and they killed along the same pattern."

AU-- S7 Mulder and Kristen Kilar meet again.

Visceral

Your focus turns back to the steel pan containing the most poetic of my earthly remains. You place it inside the frame of the scale then write down the weight. You set my heart on the cutting board and pick up a long knife, your actions practiced and controlled, almost mechanical. The blade presses against the mottled epicardium, expressing thick, clotted blood from the vessels. But you pause, held back by something invisible and unspoken, your masterful hands trembling. Turning, you look at my opened body, my innermost self exposed. A few clear drops run from beneath your mask, dripping onto the front of your gown, mingling there with a smear of red.

Post All Things Daniel Waterston selfishly watches Scully autopsy his dead body.

Then Comes Marriage

"C'mon, Scully, it'll be fun. The lights, the magic. There's no other place like it on earth."

AU-- Mulder and Scully accidentally get married in Vegas.

Arms Wide Open

It hits me again: We did it. We made a life. I can't believe it.

And once more I laugh to myself in disbelief and start crying. This seems to be an automatic response for me.

AU-- Requiem Mulder wasn't abducted; and bolts from room after being told the surprise news.

Easter Vigil

All she knows for sure is that he was dead. She held his lifeless body. She touched his decaying flesh. She stood watch as they sealed him in the casket and then lowered him into the ground.

He was dead. And then he wasn't.

He is risen.

Deadalive Scully thinks of her waxing and waning faith in miracles.

Simple Man

The moment was interrupted as Will emerged from his room and rejoined them. It was Mulder who first noticed him, and Scully followed his gaze. Their son was now wearing jeans, a Yankees shirt, a ballcap, and his baseball mitt--the way he usually dressed when his father took him to the park to play catch.

AU-- Post Existence Mulder and Scully discuss his childhood while William changes his Halloween costume.

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Mulder was standing on his desk, holding something above his head, apparently installing...

"Ceiling tiles? Mulder, what are you doing?"

He almost fell off the desk, startled by her presence, but she quickly reached out to steady him. He smiled sheepishly and climbed off the desk.

AU-- IWTB Mulder keeps putting off his doctorate.

truthwebothknow1's

Natiruvaaq

He tried to cut through the fog that left his mind in a painful vice.

Mulder, caught in the fog.

Echoes

Her aunt had been bugging her for months about coming over to spend a few days and finally meet her.

S6 (or S7) Scully vacations in Ireland, where she not only finds her own X-File but runs into her partner.

Enchanted Shores

The soft crunch of feet through wet sand broke her out of her reverie as her partner approached her, grinning like a little boy bringing her a natural sea treasure.

The man with the child in his eyes.

S6 (or S7) Mulder and Scully take a lovely dovey trip to Maine.  

Home Alone

He stood at the lip of the stairs swaying and was feeling quite disorientated when the downstairs phone ringing tore a path through the cotton in his head. His good foot shifted inadvertently onto the first step but his toes could not dig into the carpet enough to stop his forward momentum. A final sway and his crutches slipped from his grasp with a clatter and he pitched forward, too shocked and slacked jawed to cry out. The hall flooring came up to collide with his nose at an alarming speed just as the answering machine kicked in.

Mulder gets into progressively worse scrapes on Valentine's Day, resulting in Maggie's arrival, Scully and Skinner's panic, and a reporter's opportunistic attempt to snap a photo.

My December

And then they found him.

Mainly because the puddle of red stood out in stark contrast to the endless white. Fortunately, they'd spotted his limp body wedged upside-down against a snow-covered rock before the last gimlet slither of light vanished over the next mountain. Only Mulder could render himself trussed up like some macabre raspberry ripple snowball....

AU-- S7 Mulder is wrapped up in barbed wire after a disastrous car accident. With no other recourse, Skinner and Scully prepare to pull it out themselves.

If I Close My Eyes Forever and Vortex

He was so excited at the thought of revisiting his old haunts and he hadn't really come down since. He called it his Oxford beat. Scully had nearly fallen out of the boat, laughing as he said it. They nearly both ended up in the river. Good memories, he was going to need them, they both were.

A sudden slither of melancholy caught her in the ribs. His hand tugging gently at hers brought her out of her reverie.

AU-- Mulder wakes from a dreamworld, nearly debilitated with serious injuries. Scully takes him to England to help him move on from the FBI; and the two-- of course-- stumble across an x-file.

Si la vie est un cadeau

I'm not the Close Encounter hero, but I'm close to something...terrible. I'm Fox William Mulder... the most colossal looser of all time. I am both found and at the same time irrevocably lost to you...to this. And I want...no need to think that I didn't have a choice, ...like Sam, that all this was inevitable for some universal goodness concept, which somehow got lost or derailed along the way. I made the choice Scully, but was it mine to begin with? Was this not ordained long ago by happenstance of my birthright? When I think of what I've cost you...

Maybe I deserve all this; perhaps everything was leading to this, in some divine plan that was kept secret from us. Though I'm sure you would be the first to tell me that, God doesn't use power tools against helpless living flesh.

S8 Mulder recounts the temporary bouts of reprieve he'd feel amidst the trauma of his torture.

BONUS

I can't bounce from this list in good conscience without mentioning Vickie Moseley and Donna and Sheryl Martin and RocketMan and Cecily Sasserbaum and prufrock's love, authors I've put a lot of hours into. However, since Tumblr has limits on links per post, I'll merely suggest you search their names (e.g. #Vickie Moseley) on this blog; and limit this rec to a fic I became reacquainted with today.

prufrock’s love/plenilune’s (Ao3, Gossamer, WBM, colonizationhq)  

Malebolge 

"I'm not eating a bat, Mulder. We don't have any food, no drinkable water, and you've got to be freezing. Better start climbing, partner."

"I wanted to wait until you were awake - to make sure you were okay before I left you." He's on his knees, facing me, very close. I can feel the heat radiating off him in the darkness like an aura and a warm hand touches my good shoulder. "You know I care about you, don't you, Scully?"

Something was very wrong if Mulder was saying this while kneeling on my wet trench coat, half-dressed, in a cave. Maybe he hit his head - that usually precedes declarations of his love.

"I know you do, Mulder. Just go."

"Do you love me?" He'd found my hand, holding it tightly in his.

Bad wrong.

"You know I do. What's wrong, Mulder?"

AU-- Mulder and Scully (and a tour guide) become trapped in an underground cave-in, and slowly realize they're not getting out.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

there are 8394 fanfic tropes i need to read after mulder comes back fuckkkkkkk

i wanna see a good reaction to the pregnancy

i wanna see mulder finally admitting he has ptsd and telling scully about it and about what he remembers

i wanna see scully kissing his scars

i wanna see mulder being more empathetic about what scully has been through bc he knows if the roles were reversed he would have fucking lost it

i need all of it!!!!

X-Files fic recs

I'm still a bit of a Tumblr newbie, but it's about time I posted some fic recs.

This is a small sample of recent favourites - there's SO much good stuff out there, by some hella talented writers ❤️

I know I've missed some - let's call it Part 1!

The Unseelie Court by @slippinmickeys

Epic case file, gripping and masterfully written. This one was like watching an episode live, back in 1990-something.

The Course of True Love by XFNessy

Another brilliant long-haul read with great character development (I'm in awe of how people plan and structure long fics like this!)

The Finer Things by @spookyshipperfics

This was such a fun (train) ride. The premise had me gripped and there were some really tense moments (I also like a bit of Diana angst!)

Just Friends by @spookyshipperfics

I had to add another by Spooky Shipper. A more light-hearted (and hilarious) piece about Skinner fretfully observing his agents at a party.

California Dreaming by @heresince93

Really nice, well-written AU piece. Scully, a pediatrician with a young daughter, literally collides with a handsome guy (who now?) on her morning jog.

Here's a Hand in Thine by @leiascully

Mulder invites Scully to the Lone Gunmen's New Year's Eve party. This was so entertaining and I loved the tension.

Gingersnap by @cecilysass

This is such an original, fun fic. Scully is in a cookie-baking frenzy and Mulder tries to help (and cause mischief). In the midst of a hilarious scenario they are both still so in character, and I love that.

Shut up, Mulder by David S

Thanks to @thatfragilecapricorn30 (via @unremarkablehouse) for posting about this one on Tumblr, or I never would have seen it.

A brilliant, and highly hilarious, stakeout romp as Scully gets impatient and Mulder struggles with car sex logistics.

The clouds are raining cacao and cocaine by @meriwetherwrites

I need to read more Krycek fics. This was equal parts funny and hot. Mulder and Krycek investigate a small town where the inhabitants have seemingly lost their inhibitions. Need I say more.

----------

If I've incorrectly deduced you're not Tumblr - or I've tagged you incorrectly - please yell at me!

Masterlist of fanfiction- The X Files

Longer stories (5000 words and over)

Fierce Midsummer All Ablaze (12793 words) on AO3 : Mulder & Scully develop a standing agreement to attend events as each other's 'plus one' over the years.

Certain Obscure Things (13087) just completed on AO3 : An alternate ending to/extension of 'Fierce Midsummer', in which Mulder takes Scully as his guest on a trip to Oxford, to visit his old university mentor.

The Light of a Clear Blue Morning (12392 words) on AO3 : Mulder and Scully are back in the field after Redux II; what would have happened if they continued the closeness of the Cancer Arc through season 5 and beyond?

The Congruence of Triangles (5373 words) on AO3 :The final scene of Triangle, told five ways.

Shorter stories

The Work of an Instant (2463 words) on AO3: Scully and Mulder attend a game night at the Gunmen’s lair, and change is in the air (s7).

I Need My Girl (747 words) on AO3

Testament (1599 words) on AO3 : This story imagines the circumstances of Scully asking Mulder to be the witness to her living will.

Even in Another Time (3740 words) on AO3 : A post-Redux story, written in 2009.

can you recommend any good case file fic with established msr relationship???? your archive is a gift to this fandom btw THANK YOU

Mulder, Scully, and Case File RST

Eyyyyyy, here you go, anon!

@debbierhea/theexfilesbabe/iamalittleonedge’s october - full series

He’s shivering as she approaches, the blanket curled around his snoozing fox form, hair sticking out like a tail. She pushes his hair back and whispers his name, tells him to go get in her bed where it’s warm. She watches him, sleepy-eyed and vulnerable, as he makes his way to where her bed is an oasis of warmed goose feathers.

Post S5 Mulder and Scully spend an October, week-by-week, on the road and in each other's company. (While not strictly RST, it's a gentle, autumnal slow burn that, I think, counts.)

sarah_segretti/Sarah Segretti's The Current Temperature in Downtown Washington (Ao3, Xanadu)

The informant, a slightly paunchy middle-aged man with a rich Blue Ridge accent, a true local, droned on. Scully appeared to be listening raptly, but Mulder knew the look - he'd been on the receiving end more than once, and with him, it usually meant she was about to shred another one of his theories.

He knew what was wrong. They were too close to FEMA headquarters, and that made him think of Dallas, and Antarctica - and he hadn't expected to feel this way. His nightmares on that particular topic had stopped weeks ago.

Post Fight the Future Scully is determined to pick up Mulder's mood... although the "case", its unpleasant associations, and their meal afterward underscores the wounds both of them are still licking clean. (Though not strictly RST, the underlying understanding between them is undeniably bent in that direction.)

@lotsoforangesoutside/@lotzzoforangezoutside‘s (Ao3) Detoured: Arcadia (Tumblr)

Scully looks at him expectantly, and he kind of likes it a little. She never looks at him like that, like he’ll MacGyver them out of this sticky mess.

It is a sticky mess. A very sticky mess.

Arcadia Mulder is torn over the fake (and real) relationship he must project with Scully.

@aloysiavirgata's (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ) The Waters of Babylon, Petrichor, and Singing of Mount Abora

Beside him comes a rustle of paper. Scully’s printed out directions from MapQuest, checking off turns like a shopping list. “Still another three miles before the access road,” she says, not looking up from her trim navy-blue lap. She takes a sip of coffee.

Mulder coughs, says nothing. Things aren’t strained exactly, it’s not that. It’s more a liminal space. Everything’s fine, he tells himself. Everything’s fine.

He  checks his hair again.

Mulder and Scully's relationship slowly melds together, from reflective, post-Arcadia memories to tentative, post-Amor Fati consummation to stinging, miraculous post-IVF hope.

Obfusc8er's Deus ex Machina

The black, writhing shade shot out fingers of darkness, exploding into thousands of swirling entities. The light from the window was doused by the mass of evil in the room. Scully gasped, nearly dropping the phone from her hand. She stood transfixed, paralyzed by shock and fear. The volume of the chorus in her ear grew louder, and the obscure shapes grew more frantic, circling with tremendous speed.

Scully is awash with horror while on a routine Kersh detail.

Jo-Ann Lassiter's The Death of Me Yet

It was a bull moose, and it was big. And it was standing about ten feet away, smack in the middle of the trail. Even if Scully hadn't read the literature on vehicle/moose collisions and the ensuing human fatalities, she would have chosen to avoid something twice her height and weight--jeep and Mulder included.

She slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel sharply to the right, in the only direction that wouldn't get them killed outright. The change in terrain was drastic.

Kersh forces Mulder on a case, despite his ill health. With Scully as her partner's shadow, the two try to escape the woods, their safety and the approaching dark (and its monster) driving them further and further down a mountain.

TessMooreXF's Armadillo Season

She mused that it must be armadillo season, for all the hardened little corpses that had dotted the sides of the highway on her journey from Dallas. 

Post The Rain King Kersh assigns the duo to an unexpectedly twisted case.

Wylfcynne's Imagine

"You aren't getting free until we have a clear MRI," she said calmly.

Mulder exploded in rage, screaming, cursing, struggling violently. On the status monitor, everything began to escalate. Three Project doctors came running in, alerted by the system alarms, and stopped, awed at the violence they were witnessing.

Post S.R. 819 Mulder and Scully are intercepted, kidnapped, and tortured while on a cult assignment. She helps to rescue her partner, but not before he is infected with black oil.

@danascullysjournal/Paper_hearts_and_homemade_arts's If You Will Let Me (Tumblr)

Padgett’s face faded to the pale, chilled skin of the corpse she had inspected three days ago.  He grinned at her with lifeless eyes.  His fingers pressed deeper inside her chest, and red spattered his sunken face.

“I am… in you…”  The lips of the cadaver did not move.  She sensed his voice ringing inside her head.

Post Milagro Mulder and Scully slowly begin to recover... but are then thrust into more disastrous supernatural circumstances. (While not strictly post-RST, this fits along those lines.)

cropcircle's Secrets in Seattle

“This must be terrible for you just laying here, Mulder,” Scully said.

“I can’t wait until this is over. If only to get this wretched cast off my arm.” ‘And to pick up where we left off when Skinner interrupted us,’ Mulder thought to himself. “I wish I could help you more.”

Post Millennium Mulder is kidnapped while Scully investigates a hospital case. (While this isn't strictly post-RST, it does end along those lines.)

Beshter's Seasons: Seventh

"Fear doesn't have to be complicated." Mulder was already into the bag of cashews, clearly pleased with what he found.

"I know that, but it did make me think about the things we fear. What sort of fears do the average people have? Would it be enough to terrify me to death?"

"Would they?" Mulder asked around a mouthful of nuts.

Post Millennium Mulder and Scully spend the rest of Season 7 figuring out the new parameters of their new relationship.

@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys/Slippin' Mickeys's The Unseelie Court

It hadn’t been fair of her to seduce him, though it had been a glacial, intellectual courtship, inevitable, really, in every sense of the word. Mulder was tender-hearted and obsessive and after their second time together, she should have known that no amount of her stoicism or sense of workplace propriety would keep them from wanting to be together all the time. Last night, she’d had a foot out the door and was pushing him away with one hand and pulling him back with the other, his fingers tangled in her hair in rapacious bliss. 

They still weren’t sure how to be with each other, and that morning they’d walked down to Mulder’s car in a loaded, restless silence. 

In this on-going chapter fic, Mulder and Scully investigate a fae x-file, the first after their under-the-table consummation.

subtlealchemy/weetown's a trick of the light

She had been avoidant, too, of facing the reality of Mulder’s condition being her fault. Even though she knows deep down that it isn’t, that she had not meant for any of it to happen, it somehow still is her fault. 

She had been the one holding the gun, after all. And her unchecked and lonesome guilt had only expanded and nourished itself in the dark, sated in the span of two nights.

Two nights spent drifting in and out of sleep on rough, sun-dried dirt with her fistful of Mulder’s bloodied sleeve that said, Stay here, even though he had been mostly unconscious and all but about to get up and go somewhere.

Mulder and Scully investigate claims of woodland magic.

Analise's (Alt. Tumblr, Colonization HQ) Haunted House

Then a rattle. Pipes groaned and protested in rusty appeals and then a thin trickle of water burbled out of the faucet. She cupped her hands under the stream and splashed it onto her cheeks, washing the remains of her makeup off. Her hair was starting to dry in long scraggly strands around her oval face and since a shower was not an option, she ran her hairbrush through the red strands until they gleamed in the candlelight. Pulling her toothbrush out she leaned back over the sink to wet the bristles and froze.

Blood was coming out of the faucet.

Mulder and Scully find themselves in a right-from-the-movies spooky mansion, with events ramping up, not slowing down, the longer the night goes on.

@piecesofscully/PiecesOfScully's Ravenous

The scratching against the wall behind them started low, as if it was coming from under the cot they sat on, like thick nails desperately attempting to burrow through the wooden barrier. Scully’s heart beat faster, through the wood she felt the scratching gradually work its way up to her lower back, clawing up behind her spine to just above her head, then stopped. A chill ran the same path up her spine as a whisper came from just above their heads.

“Skuhhhh.”

It was only a matter of time before Mulder and Scully stumbled on another creature in the woods... but is there only one?

@syntax6's (Gossamer, FFN, omniscribe) The Man Without a Trace (omniscribe)

Mulder slackened his hold on Scully and looked at the crumpled comic book again. Sure enough, at the bottom it read, "Starring Rocky Miller and McKenzie Sally."

Post First Person Shooter Mulder and Scully find out that TLG turned them into profitable comic book characters... and stumbled on a case at Comic Con.

doctorhelena's Something In Between

Scully bit her lip and willed herself not to imagine again what would have happened if Skinner hadn't taken a leap of faith. Mulder was insistent. "What would I have mutated into if you hadn't stopped it - how many of those people are out there? People who already have identities, but who won't be reported missing by their family and friends, because they’re already dead. People who can infiltrate themselves easily into society and nobody will ever know the difference. This is huge, Scully. And I don't -" he cut off, watching her face. His eyes were alive.

"How can you-" she asked. "Mulder, how can you just - you were almost -" She couldn't talk. Her throat had closed up again. 

Post Deadalive Mulder, Scully, and Doggett begin investigating other "dead" and buried abductees.

aka Jake/aka_Jake/aka 'Jake''s Reprise

"...I’m done with all that. I no longer chase aliens.”

“This isn’t about aliens.”

“Does it matter?”

“It’s a mutant.”

She returned to sorting clothes, plucking matching socks from the pile, glad that Katie was asleep in bed and not listening in on this all-too-familiar conversation.

“A liver-eating mutant,” he added.

Post My Struggle IV Mulder and Scully tackle an old foe they thought was long dead.

AUs

aRcaDIaNFall$'s (Alt. Tumblr) Meeting This Way, These Ungodly Hours, Something Challenging, Full Circle

"So, what's the procedure for this sort of thing?"

"Procedure?" "

You know... Interviewing somebody. Getting Kayleen to agree to an examination."

"Depends on the person. Sometimes you need to tread carefully, sometimes you need to push."

She smiled. "Which category did I fall into?"

"Both. I had to make a whole new category, just for you."

AU-- Mulder becomes a reoccurring patient to ER doctor Scully. Their friendship blossoms, their relationship blooms, and she agrees to consult on a case.

CaptainLyssa's To FBI or Not To FBI

Rolling her eyes, Scully had seen the female agent leaving Mulder’s room as she exited the elevator this morning. Patrice, Mulder’s nurse assured Scully the visit had been brief and she’d gained little information about Mulder’s condition from the staff. It seemed the rumours worked in Scully’s favour in this instance.

AU-- Scully is a worn-down ER nurse that strikes up a random, fast-paced relationship with enigmatic but deeply-committed Special Agent Mulder. His sudden hospitalization, her secret pregnancy, and Diana Fowley's unwanted appearance (almost) shakes her faith in her new partner.

theramblinrose's MSR Collection

“You’re supposed to be at the hospital, Scully. I was coming as soon as…”

He broke off like he’d simply run out of words. He was coming as soon as—as soon as he could, as soon as they found Samantha, as soon as he knew what was happening.

AU-- Post One Breath Mulder and Scully begin a relationship; and very soon after discover (during the events of Aubrey) that she is expecting a little "alien."

LuvTheBeez's (mulderscreek) Snow (mulderscreek)

"Mulder, it never really occurred to me before, and I certainly admire the skill with which you construct that masterpiece you've got going there, but I seem to recall a bit of a phobia you used to have about fire." She placed his mug down on the mantle. "How have you gone from fear to Master Fire Builder?"

"It's all about control, Scully." Mulder paused for a moment as he twisted the life out of another geometrically perfect square of newspaper. "This is our house. This fireplace is a perfect little contained area, inside our house, where one can have a controlled fire that *stays* in control. If I build the fire, I have control over it. I am its master. I *am* Fire Boy."

"You've thought about this before."

AU-- Season 5 Mulder and Scully are married and expecting a very large baby. ...And are forced into a hostage situation.

@virtie333/Virtie333's The Letter, Eyes In the Night, Someday, Wambli

"I didn't want to believe her," Scully smiled tightly. "But she did know where the body was, and she's very convincing. It took a long time before she finally told me HOW she 'saw' him." She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. "Mulder, she says she can see through the eyes of any living animal. That she can transport her consciousness into another living thing and to see what it sees and feel what it feels!" 

"Can she control the mind of the animal she inhabits?" Mulder had heard of people who could transfer like this. 

"No," Scully shook her head. "She says she's just 'along for the ride'. Sometimes she can tweak its curiosity a bit, but that's all."

AU-- Post Orison Scully leaves for an ASAC position when Mulder doesn't ask her to stay. But not to worry: they are reunited a year later for a case, then another, then the explosion of the mytharc.

Khyber's Reach + Sokol (Reach, Sokol 1/2, Sokol 2/2, Sokol - Dancing Skeleton Day, Sokol - Terminus Post Quem)

"Light plane crash, Washington. Less than an hour ago. Apparently we should be there. He said to do an autopsy."

"Did you recognize the voice?" "

Whoever it was knew I was here."

AU-- Mulder and Scully take the next step after a rough, disturbing case involving a fifteen-year-old. From there, their lives only get more complicated as the Consortium closes in.

@writingwell/RocketMan/Darkstryder's (Xanadu)

It's Been . . . 01, It's Been . . . 02, It's Been . . . 03

Mulder blinked and looked at her, then shook his head.

"I have a headache."

She glanced quickly into the basment, then stopped still, shocked as she watched Nick Hazel sway before an enormous fire, sweat and dirt dripping from him in a sensuous, serpentine motion. She felt herself being pulled into the hypnotic dance of the fire and closed her eyes, tight.

Then backed away, grabbing for Mulder.

AU-- A ditch-and-dash injury changes the course of Mulder's life: recovery, marriage, a Floridian honeymoon, and an arsonist case upon their return.

WrappedInTheWind, WrappedInTheWindWhirl, WrappedInTheWindIII, WrappedInTheWindIV, WrappedInTheWind_CryingStone (Xanadu)

That was the good day. The only good day. I should have paid better attention to that day because it was a long time before that day would come again, a better day, a day with hope.

AU-- Post En Ami CSM hands over a baby of mysterious origins to Mulder. Scully resists her partner's domestic inclinations at first, but caves-- although adoption and subsequent marriage don't stop on-the-job injuries and heart-wrenching biological connections.

@rationalcashew/RationalCashew's Dark is the Way; Light is the Place (Tumblr)

Scully could feel Mulder watching her from the other side of the desk. He’d been doing it for the last week. At first, she thought it was sweet. Now, it was just annoying.

“Mulder…” she warned, cocking an eyebrow at him from over the file in her hand.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“You’re staring.”

“We’re having a baby,” he replied simply.

“Yes, we are. But, that doesn’t mean I can work with you staring at me constantly."

AU-- Although Requiem Mulder rushes back to Scully, their combined joy over an unexpected miracle becomes intertwined with frustration over a challenging, and pointedly dangerous, serial killer case.

Lapsed_Scholar's Season 9 Rewrites and Musings

Dana sighed. “I suppose this is one of those cases in which not everything is fully, satisfactorily explained. We can only make an educated guess that matches a preponderance of the evidence. Which is a foundational principle I have to somehow instill in my intro to forensic pathology students in...about five minutes, actually.” She carefully passed William (who had apparently tired of her hair and fallen asleep) to Mulder and stood up.

His eyes were shining when he smirked up at her. “How do you plan on doing that? You just gonna write ‘Uncertainty’ on the board, Scully?”

She shot him a look that had too much underlying affection to be truly quelling. 

AU-- Season 9 Mulder never leaves; and he and Scully (and William) are pulled into the Doggett-Reyes cases, despite his reluctance.

@dreamingofscully's Surely, to the sea 

When Mulder switched off the ignition, oppressive silence weighed down upon them - no birds, no chirping insects. She hadn’t noticed under the roar of the engine and the trepidation that she fought to control. Staring ahead and swallowing thickly, she forced herself to analyze the evidence they’d acquired so far. Perhaps the same thing that interfered with their radio drove away wildlife. 

AU-- Married paranormal investigators Mulder and Scully lodge with a suspiciously odd man who is always licking his fingers.

Thanks for reading¬

Enjoy!

October 2024 fic roundup

👶☑️ Beginnings by @television-overload

The most perfect follow-up to Of Our Own Making! Seeing m&s fall in love and go on their first date AFTER getting married and having a child together is just precious. (Especially Mulder’s “will u go out with me” note!) I love their unconventional relationship so much.

🐓🍽️ Untitled by @aloysiavirgata

This little fic is hilarious! I love Mulder getting the chance to be subtly petty towards Bill. I also love to see MSR being so domestic and settled down in the unremarkable house.

blue prints by @foxmulders

(Couldn’t find an ao3 link to this one)

Oof. This one hurts in the best way. It’s everything you want for these characters that they never got to have. It’s fluff, but it feels like angst because it’s a reminder of what the Mulder-Scully family could have been. I love it!

🛁🫧 the alchemy by @leiascully

I absolutely adore “platonic” intimacy that happens when they’re not quite together, and this fic starts out that way and ends in some incredibly satisfying RST. For such a short fic, this one sure does pack a punch! One of my favorites from fictober.

🕳️📍 You Send Me by spookynerd

The silliest premise leads to the sweetest romance! I love to see Mulder all pathetic and pining. My favorite line: “I’m in love. I think it’s terminal.”

🧜‍♀️💍 mermaids, native to montana by @foxmulders

I read this one a while ago and recently stumbled across it again. It’s the type of fluff with an undercurrent of sadness that creates such a powerful sense of longing. If you’re a fan of an unconventional marriage fic, read this one!

🛌🚂 Untitled by @myassbrokethefall

I usually steer clear of revival fics (I haven’t even been able to bring myself to watch it yet) but this one is just so darn sweet! I’d like to go back in time and show CC a copy of this fic so he writes it into the show.

🎂💌 Birthday Blues by Donnilee

I’m a fan of an author who can turn the silliest, most improbable situations seem probable, and this fic delivers. Read it if you’re a fan of tropey goodness and smut that’s as adorable as it is hot.

💇‍♀️💥 By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience

I was in the mood for a historical setting, and this Civil War AU fit the bill! One of my favorite things was its exploration of 19th-century gender roles, not to mention the unconventional romance.

🇮🇪🏰 Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms

If you’re a fan of Hiraeth (as I am), you’ll love this one! It has a very similar setting and plot. The writing styles are very different, though, so it’s not like they’re carbon copies of each other or anything.

Anyway, this fic is achingly romantic, with plenty of lines that take your breath away.

(If you want the epub for easier reading, let me know!)

🏝️👻 Waldron Island by @sisterspooky1013

Like Gaslight, this fic features M&S not being able to trust their own minds. However, this time, it’s for horror reasons, not sci-fi reasons. Regardless, that concept is one of my favorites to explore in fiction, so I absolutely devoured this spooky fic! (And the ending scene? 😫🔥🥵🥹‼️)

😈🪞 Succumbing to the Truth by OnlyTheInevitable

If you liked Waldron Island, you’ll love this one! It’s a similar concept, but lies more in the casefic genre rather than straight-up horror. I loooove the way it uses the plot (a succubus demon) to force M&S closer together and finally talk about their feelings. It’s one of those fics where you can see where it’s going, which adds anticipation and makes the ending so much sweeter!

🥤🛍️ Inevitable by @thefinestmuffins

This alternate version of the car conversation in Tooms is an incredible Scully character study that’s absolutely dripping with UST. For a short fic, it truly packs a punch! One of my favorite parts is this: “On the Dana Scully list of priorities, want figures very, very low. It’s not that she doesn’t possess it in great quantity, it’s just that she fights like hell to rate it less highly than ambition, dignity, control, pragmatism, self-sufficiency, stability.”

Story #85 is the poem "A Ballet Dancer"

Put your pointe shoes on

And get to the barre,

It’s your stage for tonight,

You’re a soloist.

Keep your balance,

Assemblé, 

Attitude derrière,

Show bravura,

S'il te plaît

You’re not made of wood.

Half turn here,

Half turn there

Right leg extended in alongé

Left foot strong

With your foot en pointe --

Hard?

Demi-pointe it’s then.

Face your audience

Return to the first position

Grand plie,

Grand jete,

Pas de chat.

It’s your stage for tonight

You’re a soloist.

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Photo by Nihal Demirci Erenay on Unsplash

Download this photo by Nihal Demirci Erenay on Unsplash

Stories #80-84 are chapters of the X-Files fanfiction story.

Read it on AO3

Story #79 "Mapping My Childhood"

That was a creative writing exercise from my tutor, and it's a mix of fiction and real-life events.

There was a heavy wooden bookcase in the living room of our old two-bedroom, creaky dusty shelves storing all kinds of books - detective stories, thrillers, romances that would make the most jagged reader blush. I rummaged through it from top to bottom and stopped my gaze on “Hatter’s Castle” by Archibald Cronin, a hefty volume of blue color - the book my younger self, fascinated with British and American literature – devoured whole in one week. Took me another week to digest it, before embarking on Dreiser’s “American Tragedy”.  We’ll get back to that.

Kesha, our green and yellow budgie, was tweeting in his cage as I stood there hypnotizing the book, trying to decide if it was worth a read. As I made up my mind to give it a shot, I sauntered over to the kitchen to boil some water for tea. Benny, our beautiful white mongrel, looked at me with her wet brown eyes – always seemingly sad – and I paused by the door of the kitchen with my manuscript.

Later.

We could look through Hatter’s castle later. Tea could wait too. It was time to walk.

“Hey, let’s go out for a while.”

She didn’t hesitate and jumped on me, pawing my knees excitedly.  I crouched down to be level with her lovely fluffy face and pulled her increments closer. Maybe somewhere in the back of my head, I had already known it would be one of our last times together. As I had known that one sunny day in June, I would forget to pull down the bar of Kesha’s cage while filling his bowl with fresh food, and he would fly away.

We tended to keep the balcony doors open in summer, but I still believed the chances he’d find his way out would be close to nil. Well, fucking stupid of me. But what would you expect from a fourteen-year-old – a clusterfuck of uncertainty and confusion? 

Fourth floor. Eighty-eight steps up and down. Every day for the past six years, and then the next ten. Inside it smelled like dump plaster and cigarette smoke. I used to know all my neighbors by name, the types of plants they had (they asked us to water them when on holiday), and the loudness of their spouses’ voices once a row was in full swing.

Every four weeks it was our turn to sweep the floors of the lobby and wash two flights of stairs. Twenty-two steps. Up and down. I wish we had a rug there, so I could sweep under it all the dirt and humiliation I felt every time I got spotted by a random passerby.

Checking the postbox was the thing I loved best. There were letters and postcards I could read. When I was in high school, newspapers joined them. Later, when I entered the college, catalogs and brochures were added to the pile of the mess our postbox had become.

“What you got there?” The boy from the top floor – the fifth – asked me as he stepped across the narrow two-by-two lobby to check the box of his own.

“Yves Rocher catalog,” I mumbled and he pivoted on his heels swiftly.

“What?”

“Yves Rocher catalog,” I repeated louder and then felt compelled to clarify. “You can buy a lipstick there or a mascara.”

The boy smirked and swept my body down with his eyes, grinning wickedly.

“You think it’ll help?”

At his words, my face started burning. I kept staring at him with eyes wide open, acutely aware that if I closed them for a second, the tears that had already filled the back of my throat would spill over my lashes. I swallowed a sob ready to escape any moment and brushed past the guy, bumping his shoulder painfully with my backpack.

“Fuck you.”

Story #78 is a poem inspired by a 2-word prompt "I'm from"

In the box of my memories is my Granny’s garden with yellow cherries  and apples,

And a merry-go-round where I was dizzy and sick,

All those cherries - slimy white purée on my black polished shoes. 

In the box of my memories are old fashion magazines that belong in a toilet,

And brown acidic paint Mum brushed the floors with.

In the box of my memories are the solo trips of a six-year-old me through the maze of streets, 

The smell of halva I tended to buy after school

And the traces left by the sharp blades of scissors I fell onto, giving me scars and scares.

In the box of my memories are the late-night X-files reruns,

The smell of the dead in a morgue,

and 180 questions to swot for my forensic exam.

In the box of my memories is my white wedding dress, two babies breathing into my chest,

All my dreams -broken, forgotten, the ones that came true.

Let me put ‘em aside - those memories - and make more room for the things to come. 

Story #77 is a 6-word memoir

I'm taking a creative writing course with an American specialist now, and the first task she gave us was to write a 6-word memoir.

I came up with the following:

Husband, daughter, son - my three kids.

Wanted a dog. Got a hamster.

Stories written on skin and paper.

Will is my argument, albeit flimsy.

The first one is the real me. The second is about expectations that went unmet. The third is me wanting to remind myself so much of certain things that I tattooed them on my body and put 'em in my diary.

Number four is the story that found its place between my shoulder blades written in Latin "Sic volo, sic jubeo, sit pro ratione voluntas." It was supposed to always keep me on the go, let me always be free and weightless, and be my constant reminder of all the "you can do this". Yet, it only has succeded in keeping me grounded so far. Which is not necessarily a good thing when it stops you from trying to make your dreams come true. Your biggest, most daring dreams ever.

Here I am, reminding myself again. You can do this. There's so much more in store for you. Don't ever stop.

Story #76. Based on the prompt: 'Surprise!' They cried, leaping out from behind the door.

“Surprise!” They cried leaping out from behind the door, and the glass of water she was holding, slipped out of her grasp and shuttered.  She bolted down to clean the mess and peered sideways at her unsolicited guests shifting from one leg to another. One of them, Tom - she recalled vaguely - tiptoed around the shards and intercepted her hand, reaching for paper napkins in the bottom drawer of the desk. 

“I’ll do that, don’t worry.”

The words broke the spell, prompting others to hurtle towards the couple on the floor. Flowers were put into vases, cake was set on the desk, candles were lit, and presents were stored in the corner of the room. 

“Didn’t mean to scare the shit out of you.”  Someone offered and the woman huffed a laugh.

She took a moment to meander around the office, gauging mentally whether she’d be able to take all the wrapped-up boxes and bouquets to her car in one go and then backed up and plonked down on the chair. A high tower of a cake leveled her eyes. 

“Make a wish,” Tom encouraged.

I’d like this day to start over, she said in her head and blew the candles.

Story #75, which is a CPE essay about Children's games.

Game is a fundamental concept in the realm of childhood, designed to teach rules, demonstrate examples, and guide minors through their transition to adulthood. Games reflect the behavioral patterns of their age, thus the play adopted contributes to the impact parents have on their children.

The first text outlines the idea that children's games, be they in the past or present, while chosen freely, sometimes are severely criticized by parents. Unfortunate though it is, family members tend to breed further development of the problem buying juniors the newest exorbitant toys. That state of affairs might be the driving force of why children are not aware of ways to amuse themselves without gadgets or money in their pockets. However, the author fails to take into account that people had limited availability of playthings in the past, and therefore, it was natural for children to make their own amusements.

In the second passage, the author rightly highlights that not only children's play preferences are different in this day and age, but also the nature of games is the subject of constant progress. Social transformations, albeit sometimes disproportional, affect all areas of our lives, so the games children play are no more than a continuation of these alterations. One should consider them as a sign of evolution. This point notwithstanding, parents are in charge of guiding the juniors through a wide range of entertainment means, to enhance their experiences rather than assisting them in further sinking into boredom and, therefore, seeking joy and solace in new toys.

In conclusion, although one cannot deny the fact that children's games are constantly changing, the harmful nature of these changes is rather questionable.

Word count: 277

Story #74, which is another CPE review.

Prompt: A literary magazine has invited readers to submit reviews of non-fiction books. You decide to submit a review of a book that has influenced you greatly. Your review should briefly describe the book, explain what aspects of your life have changed after reading it, and assess the importance of non-fiction literature.

“To understand the ‘artist’, you must study his ‘art’,” says the FBI profiler, Special Agent John E. Douglas in his book “Mindhunter” where the ‘artist’ is a serial killer and ‘art’ is a homicide. A gruesome account of the US's seamiest underbelly, the book is a real gem for true crime lovers, with Douglas both a predator and prey. 

Ted Bandy, Zodiac and Charles Manson. Even people who are not into crime stories heard about them. What made those seemingly normal men tick, turning them into the most notorious criminals the USA has ever known? To understand this, the former FBI agent explains, as he takes us inside his chilling-to-the-bone narrative, you have to start thinking like a criminal. In letting us into the predators’ devilish plans, he spares the readers no detail – the goriest the better, the reader rejoices.  as we spiral down the madness path together with Douglas, we can clearly see that nobody emerges unscathed after such a journey - the strain profiling has on the family cannot go unnoticed.

For an amateur writer in my person, “Mindhunter” was the manual for creating an accurate portrait of a serial killer for the novel I have in the process. Not an easy read, the book demanded all my focus, but gave me a deep insight into serial killers’ motives and obsessions. It also proved effective to fathom what steered them wrongly. Can I recognize a serial killer in broad daylight now? No, I can’t. But can I tap into the knowledge I acquired to create a believable character for my own story? Yes, I believe so. 

Douglas’ book was my source of information as the topic I explored demanded serious research. Such books are based heavily on facts, hence being valuable assets in analyzing real-life events and memories of those who bore witnesses to them. This is also their - the victims’ - way of making meaning of what happened to them. Let their stories be told and remembered. Let them not perish into oblivion.

Story #73 is a CPE review of the same book "Truly Like Lightning" by David Duchovny.

Prompt: A literary magazine has invited readers to submit reviews of modern books that might deserve the status of a classic. You decide to submit a review. Your review should briefly describe the book, explain why you think it deserves the status, and speculate on what makes a book a classic.

David Duchovny, known mainly as an actor, once again scales the heights of the literary world with his novel “Truly like lightning”. It, indeed, is truly like lightning accompanied by one clap of thunder after another – blinding and deafening in its narrative.

Duchovny’s novel tells the story of Bronson Powers, a former Hollywood stuntman and a converted Mormon, who lives off the grid in a plural marriage with three wives and ten children. Seemingly happy in their private desert outside of Joshua Tree, away from the corruption of the modern world, they spend their days hunting, foraging, and farming.  Everything changes, when Maya Abbadessa, an ambitious employee of a predatory investment firm literally stumbles upon Powers’ homestead, setting into motion a deadly chain of events that will test the beliefs of everyone involved.

Throughout the narrative, the reader is confronted with the question of how to tell right from wrong in the world of extremes. There is a constant battle of virtue and vice – money against love, sex against religion, greed against generosity. Transposed through the account of Bronson Powers, both a martyr and a crucifier, this is a story of parents who mean well and children who obey their orders blindly. As if to aggravate the situation and show the inevitability of the tragedy, in the background, the reader witnesses how the environment of the ancient desert of Joshua Tree vanishes, turning yet into another meaningless hotel slash entertaining center.

“Truly like lightning” might seem hackneyed for anyone living dangerously close to Hollywood, but unhackneyed for anyone from afar. Regardless of sounding trite in his commentary on pop culture, the multilayered themes Duchovny explores and masterfully exploits are as universal as they will ever be. After all, what deems a book classic if not the topics that undoubtedly resonate with readers at all times - past, present, and future?

Story #72, which is a 'Truly like lightning' review.

“The X-files” were my Bible throughout the 90s to 2000s. I fell in love with the character of Fox Mulder long before I fell in love for the first time for real. I didn’t think Duchovny could get any better than that until he started writing and I started reading what he had written. 

“Truly Like Lightning” is not David Duchovny’s first book, but it’s his best so far - it will strike you to the very core and leave you aching, with questions whirling like a snowstorm in the head. 

Set in the desert of Joshua Tree, the story centers around the former Hollywood stuntman Bronson Powers, now a converted Mormon living unplugged in a polygamous marriage. They raise their ten kids away from the evils of society until one day a young ambitious employee of a corrupt real estate company targets their land. Cultures clash. Faith is tested. Choices are made.

The book will hook you and won’t let you put it down… if you manage to push through the first fifty pages. Seriously, it took me two weeks to read that part, where Duchovny mostly explained the background of his characters, and only two days to finish the 445-page manuscript, when the story finally turned into an action movie-like narrative.  

All things considered, it’s worth every minute of reading. What made a successful man abandon all the perks of Hollywood and choose to live the life of an isolated nomad? What happens to Powers’ family once they are forced off their land and into the temptations of the world they left behind? What’s with the children who have never had a say in any of that? 

Read the book. And be prepared to be struck. 

Story #71 is about how I became a member of a 5 AM club.

Whenever I tell people that I usually wake up at the crack of dawn, their eyes go wide like two saucers. I then instantly bombarded with questions of how, why, and who on earth forces me out of my bed at such an ungodly hour. Once the initial shock settles though, and I share that getting up with the sun comes along with turning in with it, I'm rewarded with a look of utter disappointment. It is as if I was supposed to give them a magic pill of how to be an early riser maintaining a routine of a nightcrawler.

Sorry guys, you can’t expect to pop up eureka moments if your body’s basic need for sleep goes unmet. The membership at the club comes with a price - I gotta hit the hay before the ripe hour of ten.

So what’s the catch in being a lark? First and foremost, I have two completely quiet and uninterrupted hours to exercise, read, write and go over my agenda. Today my routine is heavily scripted - not a minute is wasted in vain. I also manage not to skip my breakfast (remember, it’s your most important meal of the day) and hardly ever feel rushed (bonus point: no added stress.) As a result, I feel accomplished well before most people hit the snooze button.

Ironically enough, the miracle morning of my first 5 AM awakening wasn’t miraculous at all. When my daughter was still a toddler, I put her to bed around nine. Since it isn’t uncommon for a newly-minted mother to feel extremely drained by the evening, I usually started snoring even before my little bundle of happiness/misery. As a result, my body had enough time to recharge its batteries, and by 4-5 AM I would wake up well-rested, replenished and all ready to jump on the world. Now I don’t even set an alarm - my biological clock is in perfect tune with my brain.

It’s possible that you already a morning person, it’s just your morning starts at 1 PM. Pun intended and achieved. But, if one day you choose to join the 5 AM club for real, I bet you will never find yourself mourning the fact that you’re no longer sleeping in the morning.

Story #70 is a message to the mothers of boys.

To the mothers of boys

I am a mother of a wonderful boy of six years. I often hear people, husband included, referring to our son as a mummy’s boy, a term I find derogatory. “You are too gentle to him,” “You are raising a wuss,” “Don’t kiss him. Don’t hug him. Don’t hold hands. Take your pick.

Friends, relatives, and even strangers dare to point their fingers at the fact that my son and I nurture a close bond as if it is something filthy. For reasons which elude me, mother-son closeness is severely stigmatized in our society. 

You encourage your son to try a new hobby and people say you’re meddling with him. You let him cry on your shoulder when he scraped his knee and they say you’re coddling him. You buy him a long-wanted toy and they say you are smothering him. A mother that keeps her son “too close” feminizes him and discourages the development of his manhood. In the world of masculinity, a big macho man is a poster child for success, yet a man who is able to express his feelings freely and be susceptible to the emotions of others is a loser.

This is simply not true. No one is ever going to become oversensitive and maladjusted from being loved and treated with care. Contrary to popular belief, boys who don’t suppress their emotions won’t become clingy wimps hiding under their mother’s skirt – they will turn out to be better equipped to navigate their lives and be empathetic spouses. 

Love won’t hurt. It will heal. So I'm just going to hug my son some more and tell him how much I love him.

Are you a mother of a boy? Maybe you should do the same then.

Story #69, which is a positive travel experience.

“Look, we gotta go there,” said my travel buddy Katya showing me the first photo that came out as she googled Austria. The photo showed the tiny alpine village of Hallstatt, nestled between a mountain and a lake with a mouthful of a name. 

The vista rendered me speechless and was enough of a reason to say yes to a holiday, yes to Austria, yes to Hallstatt.

Between us, Katya and I have five kids and the power to move mountains when it comes to traveling without them. Ironically enough, our choice fell on that postcard-perfect Instagram-worthy place at the heart of the Alps. 

Three train journeys, two soaked-through backpacks, and one ferry cruise across the lake later, we finally arrived in Hallstatt. The place, included in the top ten places to visit while in Austria, miraculously wasn’t swamped with tourists. We took a leisurely funicular ride to the skywalk observation deck, enjoyed a cup of Viennese coffee with a piece of the Sachertorte, walked up the path for another hour, and then set off on a hike back, all the way snapping away left, right and center.  

Snap and we were 900 meters above sea level. 

Snap and we were inside an old salt mine. 

Snap and we stood in front of the stained glass windows of the old Protestant Church on the main square.

Snap and we were back home, locking away new precious moments in a memory box along with a few hundreds of photos capturing those unforgettable instants. 

Story #68, which is a negative travel experience.

Here I am in my late 30s. Now scroll down my Instagram and see what I was like nine years ago - practically the same woman but with her first child (and don’t forget to wow me with “you haven’t changed a day!”) So when the baby girl turned 18 months old, our little family of three adventured off to Bulgaria - our first holiday in the status of parents.

It is not unheard of for a newly-minted mother to be cautious and plan everything ahead when a child is involved. That’s what I did. A hotel with a kid’s pool and a playground - ticked. A restaurant with a menu for picky toddlers - ticked. A suitcase filled to the brim with diapers, fruit smoothie pouches, formula, and every medicine imaginable - ticked. I was prepared for everything.

What I couldn’t have been prepared for was that three days into the holiday, Ann, my unlucky daughter, would start burning - not under the hot Bulgarian sun, but with a fever. A nasty virus, caught somewhere at the airport, and oral thrush, caught when she wined and dined herself with the beach sand are both quite innocent, but a deadly bouquet when worsened by a child violently teething. 

We made it through the holiday watching cartoons (frigging Blue Tractor), eating the suitcase of smoothie pouches, and pushing a stroller along the most deserted streets of the town. 

The hardest part was to watch her looking at the pool through the balcony bars, knowing that she couldn’t join the other kids there. The lesson learned hard - I hadn’t taken my second child on an abroad trip until all his teeth claimed their rightful places in his mouth. 

Story #67 is about all the would have beens in my life.

Everything changed. 

For better or worse is a pending question. 

My typical day now is more or less the same flurry of commotion as for any other teacher slash blogger. I teach Present Perfect and Conditionals, check CPE essays, attend another how to organize your language classroom webinar or let’s-read-or-write-or-watch-together club. However, unlike those multitaskers who somehow manage to tick every box on the list, I always have something in between. 

That something is kids. Every bullet point of my agenda is broken by “feed the kids,” “walk the kids,” “wash the kids,” and “do a million other things with kids.” And believe me, you better do, otherwise they will howl like werewolves on a full moon until someone finally draws a gun and shoots the poor bastards.

I could have done so much more with my life if I hadn’t had kids. I would have written the book I had been putting off for a decade. I would have designed a few writing courses of my own. I would have set up a gazillion of new projects. At the very least, I would have felt marginally less frazzled, drained and comatose.

Where’s that Jen who dreamed about driving along the Atlantic coast in a speeding red convertible, doing a Master’s in LSE and living in Belgravia right across Westminster Abbey? Does she know what my life would have been like if I had made other choices? Does she know what I would have missed?

It took me years to make peace with all the uncertainty those questions brought to my life, but I accepted the idea of only one true choice - all the roads would have eventually taken me right here, to this moment, when I’m sitting and typing that post. 

Indeed, my life is a far cry from anything I have imagined, yet it’s perfect in its failures. 

And even if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t change a day.

Story #66 "You are what you eat"

A cliche that sounds like a broken record. Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are. 

I’ll have to go back here to explain my point. In 2014 I was diagnosed with Cholinergic Urticaria (CU). CU is a reaction of your skin to an increase in your body temperature, resulting in tiny hives. They are itchy, swollen, and they cover you from head to toe, lasting from thirty minutes to two hours. I typically got them when I exercised, was extremely stressed or while taking a hot shower.

There’s no documented cure from CU. You just have to learn how to live with it. And I did.

In February 2023, after another regular run on a treadmill, I noticed that my skin was totally fine. No red itchy bumps closing together, nothing. For the first time in almost a decade, my skin was clean. To say I was surprised would be an understatement out of proportion. I thought that NOT having my body FAILED me, was a FAILURE in itself.

Over the following days I tested it with vigorous workouts, hot baths and sauna visits. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Now, four months later, I finally believe it. 

Do I know why it’s gone? I don’t. Do I believe that my immune system rebooted and my diet was a big part of it? Yes, I do. 

It dates back to my adolescent years when I started modeling. First, it was about trying to follow the elusive 90-60-90 standard, then about fighting acne off my skin and gastritis off my stomach. Today, I allow myself to have cheat meals and late-night snacks here and there, but what you MOSTLY won’t find in my diet is

🦋gluten 

🦋sugar

🦋red meat 

🦋dairy 

🦋tea 

Over the years things like checking the labels in a supermarket and having veggies and fruit in abundance at home have become my second nature. Whether it’s a curse or a blessing, I’m totally obsessed with what’s on my plate.

I’m a great believer in the theory that our body is capable of curing itself once you create the conditions for that. So, if there’s something to cure and you’re considering where to start, start with what’s on your plate. As simple as that. Your problems might not disappear overnight, but, little by little, they’re bound to get better.

Story #65 is something to be said about bones.

“Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw it still.”

Said Henry David Thoreau probably talking about finding your vocation and yada-yada-yada. Sitting in a wooden gazebo of my mother’s country house and looking at our twelve-year-old orange ball of a Pomeranian gnawing at a raw steak bone makes that quote a bit of a joke.

What does it take to know your own bone? How do you even know if that fucking thing is your true bone? Damn right. This is where you had to start, dear Mr. Thoreau.

I wanted to be a forensic pathologist. No, seriously. I thought I was going to cut skin and muscles and all. Literally. I would slice and dice and get to the very essence of a bone.

A human’s body is a temple, so often vandalized and violated by a few who believe they’re omnipotent - criminal offenders, abusers, perpetrators - doesn't really matter what you call them. By unraveling the mysteries of the body's destruction and gathering all the clues it left behind, I’d solve the puzzle and bring the body its dignity back. Restore it. Make it whole again. Make it more than just a set of bones.

I never became a queen of an autopsy bay. Somewhere along the way, I took another turn to explore my other obsessions. The writing was one of them, and this time it’s all down my bones.

The thing is, I didn’t recognize my bone when I first saw it. Sometimes it takes years to find it. It may take a few more to understand that it, indeed, is your true bone. However, one thing Mr. Thoreau was right about is, whatever your bone turns out to be, once you find it – gnaw at it. Gnaw at it with all your might. 

Story #64 "Living a Life of Interruptions"

I wish I could say that writing comes naturally to me, and with a click of my fingers, I shift my mind into the subspace where my silly ramblings magically turn into coherent ideas.

Much to my chagrin, I can barely find time to transmit a few sentences to my journal on a daily basis. It should be easy, isn’t it? After all, you do it with everything else in your life - exercising, hobbies like reading or knitting, your work for crying out loud!

But…come on, in all candor, when are you ever alone? Exactly.

Peace and quiet is a gossamer door into a parallel reality allowed to exist in your head only. I’m hardly alone even when I pee, much less so when it comes to all my aforementioned ventures.

I live a life of interruptions. I’m interrupted when I read, when I run on a treadmill or sweat over another set of crunches or when I take a shower.

Notifications. Messages. Ads. Kids. Random thoughts. Things you forgot. Things you must not forget. Reminders. Whether these are your children, pawing through your desk with their little hands and naked curiosity or something else, be brutally honest with yourself - you are constantly bombarded with interruptions.

Is there a way out? There must be some, right? Mine is to write in the wee wee hours when everyone is asleep. In the dark and gloomy confines of my kitchen, surrounded by the smell of freshly brewed coffee that slips into my pores and receptors of my nostrils, I have found my safe place for writing. I’m all by my lonesome, and I love every minute of it.

I disciplined myself into writing. And if the muse happens to hover over my shoulder, I grab that resentful bitch by the neck and keep doing my thing, because if I don’t, she will slam the door shut out of my creative space so loudly that it will leave the void so vast, it will echo.

Be kind to yourself. No disparaging remarks. Only courteous behavior and soft-spoken words are welcome in that sacred place where creativity is harvested. Enjoy the crackling freedom you regain, when once evanescent thoughts, finally transform into actual printed letters, demystifying every nook and cranny of your brain.

That, indeed, is real magic.

Story #63 is a review of "The Craft: Legacy" movie

“Let the ritual begin,” says the slogan of the supernatural horror film “The Craft: Legacy,” catching the attention of those starving for spectacular special effects and magic rituals. Based on the story of 1996, which had set a pretty high bar, the Legacy is yet to beat its prequel.

The protagonist Lilly, masterfully portrayed by young Cailee Spaeny, seems to be your typical kind of teenager with her ups and downs. And while the story efficiently tackles the issues teens usually face on their way to adult life, it is heavily steeped in feminism, tolerance to LGBTQ+, and all that kind of thing. There are no “normal” male characters in the film. The fiancé of the heroine’s mother she moves in with is a tyrant figure ready to scold his daughter-in-law for hitting a boy twice her size. His brood of teenage sons acts like snitches, ratting on their newfound sister on every occasion. Her classmates crack vulgar jokes over a piece of blood-drenched clothing and ask out loud about her sex life.

Of course, Lilly and her witchy girlfriends decide to punish one of such guys, bringing out his “better self”. In the blink of an eye a yesterday’s bad boy magically turns into a sensitive and gentle spirit, defending all the weak and powerless, unable to tolerate low-waist jokes, he felt absolutely comfortable with before. But is he your poster child for an ideal man? I doubt it.

Taking up so promisingly, the story becomes a mere disappointment in its final leg, reaching its peak in a poorly directed battle between Good and Evil. Here the theme of feminism re-emerges again, as Evil is represented by a single male figure and Good is carried out through a bunch of school girls. “Legacy” turns out to be no more than a maudlin melodrama with the moral in the idea that magic is the panacea for any failure.

Story #62 "My best learning experience"

Originally written as a CELTA admission essay.

It’d be fair to say that one of my best learning experiences was the one I gained being a member of the “Teachers Teach Teachers” project. In a nutshell, that’s a program created by a teacher trainer and business coach Anita Modestova, where teachers are given a unique, almost once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be taught by their fellow teachers, teach their peers themselves, discuss the methodology aspects of the overall teaching process, as well as receive the extended detailed feedback.

As a basis, we used Hugh Dellar’s “Outcomes Advanced” coursebook, implementing both the communicative and the lexical approaches. Every month, one of the participants, was nominated to teach their colleagues and Hugh, himself, hosted workshops for teachers of the month. We discussed strategies, shared our ideas for exercises, planned the whole lesson together, and in the next meeting exchanged good and bad outcomes and what needed to be improved.

Having lessons weekly, it took us roughly three years to go through the whole coursebook. Not only I became more confident as a teacher, but I got plenty of insights as a student, especially on teaching online. It was a safe place for me to implement new ideas and experiment with my own teaching style as well as test out any unconventional methods. For instance, at one point my third-year mentor Ben Brooks pointed out how much better it might be to let all students stay in the main room for an active discussion instead of dividing them into pairs. That was when I saw that sometimes the MR works better than break-out rooms, and later that year I gave a speech at the “Meaningful Weekend” conference about the whole thing and how beneficial it could be.

All in all, I’m extremely grateful for that experience and believe that it is partially responsible for what kind of teacher I am now.

Story #61 "What is a good teacher?"

Originally written as a CELTA admission essay.

What is a good teacher? What qualities one should possess to be considered a poster child for teaching? And who is to tell a good teacher from the bad one, and make the final decision? They say “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Perhaps, to an extent, it’s fair for a good vs. bad teacher as well.

When I did my TESOL course a year ago, I was asked to write an essay on my teaching philosophy, and at some point, I started contemplating what a good teacher was in my opinion, and whether I, myself, met those standards. I might repeat myself here with what I wrote in the past, but thinking back now, I stand by my words. 

I’m firmly convinced that a good teacher is a teacher who knows how to convey the information they prepared for the lesson and is able to present the material in a practicable and entertaining way, as well as be capable of engaging students in different communicative activities to provide them with vocabulary and grammar sufficient for successful communication. That kind of teacher knows the ultimate goal of any exercise they give and sets short-term and long-term aims for themselves and their students.

A good teacher knows how to encourage a student to use actively the learning strategies such as asking questions, making notes, and not being afraid of making mistakes. They can explain that experimenting with the language is impossible without mistakes, and get sure students feel confident enough in a classroom. As a rule, a good teacher sticks to the 80/20 strategy and knows how to reduce teacher talking time and increase student talking time.

They want to pass on not only their knowledge but their passion for languages and sow the seeds of the idea that any learning indeed is an exciting process a student can benefit from. A good teacher strives to show their students that there is no extrinsic motivation they need to study as they can find it within themselves. As a teacher, I try to be that source of motivation and enthusiasm for my students.

Story #60 "Power in Routine"

POWER IN ROUTINE

That's me on this tee. With one slight difference - we are not in the X-files universe where the Fox (supposedly Mulder) cries out for Scully in every single episode. 

My version goes like that: 

‘Kids! KIDS! K-EE-D-S!’

At half past six every morning. 

And that’s how our day starts. 

Ten minutes to lie in, ten more to wash up and get dressed. Fifteen to have breakfast. We gotta leave at 7.20 for school 🏫 which gives me a sufficient amount of time to return home and start my first lesson at eight.

I usually work non-stop until 11 or 12, and then I have a very long lunch. I might exercise (you gotta move that body around after being glued to your chair for hours on end), and watch some tv-series along the way. 

In the second part of the day, there are two more trips to school and back, some more lessons, extracurricular activities, and dinner. By then, I’m so exhausted that I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. 

My co-star app says that I find power in routine, and I couldn’t have said it better. 

Establishing a simple but flexible routine was my magic bullet to balance life and work and everything in between. Once I swallowed it, magic happened. Wonders haven’t seized since then.  

As a part of my daily routine, I might write, read, cook, knit, or take a nap. The list is endless, you name it. One rule applies, though - whatever it is, it has to be scheduled and put on the calendar, otherwise, chances are I won’t get it done. 

It’s all about planning. 

Here goes the main question: are you a planner or more of a spontaneous kind of person? What helps you have it done? 

Story #59 is a CPE essay on positive psychology.

Positivity. A shibboleth and a trend of modern society. Body positivity. Workplace positivity. All day everyday positivity. A cliché the proponents of stand tall with, encouraging people, as Samuel Beckett once said, to try again, fail again, and fail better. That said, is the happiness-first approach the only means to succeed, and is it fair to assume that not everyone is designed to be an “always over-exuberant smiley” person?

To be a happy individual and a better person for society, one should strive to reframe any negative mindset and adopt “happiness” principles, as the opposite brings feelings of stress into life. What the aforementioned concept fails to take into account, however, is that negative emotions are far from being something that should be just tolerated - these have to be examined through the lens of a more nuanced view. Stress is a natural physiological response a person not only suffers but also benefits from. Anecdotal as it sounds, stress serves as a medicine, which means that in healthy doses it facilitates achievement and contributes to a positive emotional state.

However, in some cases, it is simply impossible to maintain that “always happy” practice. There are people, known as defensive pessimists, whose broodiness and fatalism are the normal state of affairs as it is their way to think ahead and prepare themselves for challenges, hence the conclusion - what is acceptable for one is not for another. While riding on the pessimism bandwagon provides defensive pessimists with a unique tool to cope with stress, having an overly negative mindset may lead to clinical depression and anxiety.

Optimism and pessimism are two opposites, both of which are fundamental to mental development. That notwithstanding, it is natural for an average person to regard hopelessness, sorrow, and the like as something one has to avoid at all costs; thus, the popularity of the positive thinking concept will continue to increase.

(word count 316)

(I should also mention that my tutor said that wasn't an academic style intro - the very beginning:) It would be great for a review or an article, but too bold for a discursive essay!)

Story #58 is a super boring CPE report

Introduction

The purpose of this report is to assess the facilities of the “Garden Park” and outline a number of recommendations for improvement that would attract more visitors if implemented. The conducted investigation revealed the following. 

Stalls with food

The park has an extensive network of multicultural stalls of food throughout its area. Mainly, customers have been satisfied with the variety of dishes and beverages as well as the price range. Nevertheless, long queues during peak times might be taken into account as a possible concern, especially in respect to the atrium space.

Suggested action

The installation of several more stalls will be beneficial as it would reduce the waiting time in the busiest quarters of the park.

Bike rental services

Bike rental services are the park's primary entertainment currently available for visitors. Despite the abundance in the number of bicycles, their usage has decreased recently. It appears that the problem occurred due to the absence of electronic payment terminals.

Suggested action

I therefore strongly recommend looking into the possibility of implementing an acquiring payment system as an alternative to payments in cash. 

Playgrounds

There have been several complaints concerning the safety of “Garden Park’s” playgrounds, in particular, their suitability for infants and younger children. Some facilities available for minors are regarded by parents as health-threatening, which leads to their neglect of using them.

Suggested action

In the light of the information gathered, I would propose that we hang sign plates to indicate the age suitability of stated areas.

Conclusion

On the basis of the points mentioned above, it would seem appropriate to regard the implementation of the suggested improvements as they could increase the attendance of the park and enhance its premises for future visitors’ ventures.

(word count 288)