wanderingwords
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It was supposed to be simple, something lighthearted and fun between cases that had felt like lead weights around their necks. It should have been a way to escape the stifling air of the city, and of course, a flimsy excuse to drag her with him.
But that was before the rain.
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Bookmarked by wanderingwords
26 Aug 2026
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This story was inspired by a prompt from tictoc134 💗
The narrative builds toward Mulder finally confessing his feelings to Scully, only for her, for reasons of her own, to turn him away.
Unable to reconcile working beside her while processing the emotional fallout, Mulder leaves DC to follow a work-adjacent lead up north. There, he unexpectedly meets someone who helps him gain a sense of clarity.
In his absence, Scully remains in DC, with no word from him for three weeks. She is left sitting with the weight of what she said, fully aware of the hurt she caused, while also dealing with her own sense of loss and the pain of his complete withdrawal.
Note: This is tagged as Mulder/Other (and then of course, MSR). This is a dynamic I previously thought I would never write, but I’ve learned to never say never. 😅 That said, as with my Scully/Other content, this aspect does not dominate the story, but it serves a specific purpose within the larger arc.
Thank you, tictoc134, for the prompt! I really appreciate your patience, especially since you requested this a while ago. I made a few adjustments, but I believe the core idea is still there. I hope you enjoy it 💗🙏🥰
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Bookmarked by wanderingwords
07 Aug 2026
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Post-cancer arc. Remission changes everything and nothing. Scully and Mulder fall into a new routine: Sunday nights, case files, and conversations they're both too careful with. When someone asks for her number, Scully says yes. It's the right choice. Probably.
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Bookmarked by wanderingwords
13 Jul 2026
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“Hey, Scully?”
“Yeah?”
“What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”
Or: sometimes being stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dark and stormy night with your work partner of five-plus years is the best possible version of events.
Bookmarked by wanderingwords
25 Jun 2026
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“What were you thinking about?” she asks
He lets out a small laugh. “I was thinking about…you know. Human connections. What they are and how we define them. And why we need to put them into neat little categories that we specifically make up for them. Don’t you ever just wonder what makes relationships – any kinds of relationships – what they are?”
It's the middle of the night in a freezing cold motel room and they both haven't slept. The best time and place to figure out how relationships work -- theirs in particular.
Bookmarked by wanderingwords
25 Jun 2026