Stories #46-47 Are The X-Files Fanfictions Stories.

Stories #30-38 are The X-Files Fanfiction stories.

They are taken down for now but you can still read them on AO3.

Read it on AO3

Story 27

The X-files fanfiction "We only heal together" 1/3

Read it on AO3

1.

“Are they sleeping?”

“Oh yes, they are.”

“What are they dreaming about?”

“Their worst nightmare.”

----

The “ping” of the elevator car pulled her out of her reverie and as the doors slid open, she was confused to find the basement floor shrouded in darkness. Stepping out of the lift, Scully groped for the switch on the wall but when she flicked it, nothing happened. 

Darkness pervaded. 

At the end of the hallway, their office was beckoning her with its dim shaft of light peeking from under the door, and she moved towards it as if summoned. 

She expected Mulder, the one who didn’t seem to need much sleep and was always up with the sun, to be there. He would probably be starting the second pot of coffee by that time. Always thoughtful, she brought him a blueberry bran muffin for breakfast. A crack about him being the only person in the whole universe leaving the office after nine and coming in around six of his own volition was on the tip of her tongue. She was looking forward to their routine exchange of banter and innuendoes.

As Scully opened the door, the light from the overhead lamps spilt out into the hallway, chasing away the shadows to corners. Spending seven years in that office, she knew it inside out, but that moment she felt like a stranger. It was their office, and yet it wasn’t. Gone was the stale dusty air and little puncture holes on the ceiling from Mulder’s pencils, and even the fluorescent tube lamps blinking constantly as of recently seemed to be changed. There were two mahogany desks facing one another in the center of the room and a potted plant in the corner. Scully didn’t remember ever placing it there. She couldn’t even remember her partner putting in a request for a second desk. 

Mulder himself was nowhere to be seen. In passing, she entertained the idea of Mulder wanting to surprise her thus the desk and all the cleaning. The ludicrous idea her logical mind immediately rejected. It just wasn’t possible. They had left he office together the day before, around lunchtime, grabbed a quick bite in the nearby deli, and headed to investigate another case ending up on a damnably boring stakeout.

There was a lead into what Mulder suspected could be anything from hypnosis to telekinesis to possession. The victims claimed they were made to do terrible things against their will. One guy beat his boss half to death, but couldn’t even remember what induced such aggressive behavior. When he entered the office the next day, ready to come clean in front of everyone and make his colleagues report him to the police, his boss was there, not a scratch on his face. The face allegedly smashed to puree no more than a day before.

“A nightmare,” Scully said unimpressed. “Or wishful thinking. They probably had some beef and their hostility manifested itself in a very realistic dream. Not unheard of.”

“One for two?” It was Mulder’s turn to raise a brow. “The thing is, Scully, both remember everything down to the smallest detail, and claim they did some severe punching and kicking.”

It appeared to be worth the time to talk to the people involved, which eventually shed light on some other facts - a few hours prior to the fight, the company’s employees took part in a one-day team-building seminar conducted by two personal development coaches, who also happened to be a married couple. The agents didn’t get any insights into the case upon interrogating Maria and Sebastian Portaverro, but since their possible suspects were about to carry out another workshop, Mulder and Scully decided to stay close and check the participants afterward.

They were sitting in a car across the building where the Portaverros had an office. No matter how much she tried, Scully couldn’t remember anything that happened during or after that. She remembered being in a car with Mulder, and then she was standing in the elevator. The absurdity of the situation was bugging her -  the changes in the office, the fact that she couldn’t remember getting back home the night before, or even arriving at work in the morning - everything was wrong. A glance at her watch told her that Mulder should have been here hours ago. Where was he? She needed him to help her figure it all out. 

Trying to stay calm and not to spiral into panic, Scully decided to do what she always did best  - collect and analyse the data. Stepping over to what was supposed to be Mulder’s desk, she touched the pristine wooden surface. Instantly she knew that something was wrong. Mulder’s desk was never that clean. There was no junk. It was too tidy. Too not Mulder. The papers were put in an orderly pile, and Mulder never bothered to organize his desk’s contents in such an impeccable manner. Even office paraphernalia was scattered around in a weirdly neat way as if each object was placed in its spot, on purpose. On a whim, Scully pulled open the first drawer and felt her stomach shrivel in dread. There were none of Mulder’s most prized belongings. Not even his ever-present sunflower seeds. Scully was horrified as it sank that the only thing she was familiar with in that office was their all-time favorite full-sized “I want to believe” poster. Did someone violate their office while they were on a stakeout? To what end?

As if out of nowhere something clicked and the room was plunged into darkness. Scully recognized the sound as their old-fashioned projector came to life and started switching slides, changing the images rapidly, lighting and darkening the room in turn. It was them - Mulder and Scully. The photos flicked on the screen like memories in her head. The most significant, valuable, delightful moments of both their lives. Imprisoned by the retrospection playing out on the wall in front of her, Scully stood still, frozen. With each image, she was sent to relive her past sensory experiences all over again.

Click, and she was opening the door and looking at the agent she was assigned to work with. Their first meeting. A mixture of curiosity and caution in his hazel eyes behind the wire-rimmed  glasses.

Click, and they were in Oregon, standing in the graveyard under the rain.

Click. They were in a van and Mulder was dressed in a bulletproof vest handing her his gun.

Click, and they were sitting on the bench in a small town of Home talking about their genetic

makeup and potential parenthood.

Click, and there was a hallway in a hospital in Allentown where their words sounded like a confession. 

Click, and there was another time and other woods somewhere in Florida where she, who couldn’t carry a tune, was singing because Mulder asked her to.

Click, and they were in California, burying the daughter she had never known.

Click. “You’re my one in five billion.”

Click. Another hallway, another greatest wish never granted - their aborted kiss.

Click. He was pleading with her not to make him choose.

Click. Mulder’s high as a kite I-love-you.

Click. A hospital bed. Again. His head was on her hip, her hand was in his hair.

Click, and they were dragging their eyes over each other in the decontamination shower.

Click. She was sobbing in his arms, the floor was stained with her blood.

Click. They were exchanging vows on the threshold of his apartment.

Scully pivoted her back to the screen, unable to take it anymore. What kind of sick joke was that? It felt too much. Too personal. Too them. How was it possible to sum up the history of them so succinctly in a few slides? Who the hell played those tricks on them? Her legs went wobbly and she braced herself against Mulder’s desk.

There was another click and all of a sudden the basement was brightly lit again. Scully made a complete 180 and was face to face with Mulder, his tall figure looming over the entryway. “How long has he been standing there? Did he see that too?” There was an ominous look in his eyes, and a foreboding sense of horror permeated the air, but Scully ignored all of that. This was Mulder. He wouldn’t hurt her. The projector kept clicking the slides but with the light back on, it was nearly impossible to make out the images on the wall.

Trying to pay no heed to a knot of anxiety agitating inside, Scully took a few tentative steps toward her partner. Noticing some lint on his shoulder, she reached out to brush it off when he grabbed her arm harshly. 

“Mulder,” Scully gasped and stopped dead in her tracks at the threat that emanated from Mulder’s demeanor. 

Story #43, CELTA weeks 7-8

I believe I owe you some more insights about Celta!

Week 7 was so hard that I dreamed about sending it all to hell so I could indulge in sleeping 🛌 . Which I did the moment the second session was over. Literally. I was in bed 10 minutes after the tutor bid us goodbye 😅

On Monday I had my lesson 3 - listening - and it was relatively easy.

On Thursday I had a language focus lesson - Vocabulary. Usually, you are supposed to expose students to 10-12 new lexical items at once. In my lesson I had 23😱 I couldn’t choose the materials at that point and had to navigate my way through what I was given. So I decided to do TTT over PPP. I’ll share a post in a couple of days with some details about that particular lesson.

The trickiest thing about it was the language analysis sheet I was supposed to compete along with my lesson plan. 23 words and collocations. Definitions. CCQs for all of them. What to draw students’ attention to in terms of form? Pronunciation? Where will I need to cover an appropriacy aspect? That sheet was total shit. Took me about three hours.

On top of that, there was another live class, three more modules on the Moodle platform, a stage report one, then a personal tutorial and a stage report 2. Along the way I also conducted an interview with a student for assignment 1 I have to submit at the end of the month.

Phew. Shoot me now 🔫

Week 8 started and we were given a new group of learners - Uppers. They are cool, have been together for a while, come from different backgrounds, curious, ask dozens of questions and have established nice rapport.

Since for the first lesson with the new group we only had to cover a short “getting to know you” activity and observe our new tutor, it felt like having a breather.

Lesson 5 was Grammar - it’s time, I’d rather, I’d better.

I also completed two modules on the platform, and had gotten a “pass” for assignment 2.

Lesson 6 tomorrow! So far so good, but I’m definitely not gonna miss it when it ends!

🥱

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!

Story #1 “A Local Hero”.

This one was originally written as a part of my CPE training. It’s based on a true story, and I do love the way it turned out; however, it’s fair for most of my pieces.

___

Daniel Watzlav never planned to be a hero. He didn’t expect his life to change overnight, taking twists and turns like in an action-packed movie. It was more of a downward spiral reversing steadily until the point of no return was reached. In the summer of 2000, he took his daughter Liz to explore the Kungur’s cave in the suburbs of his home city Perm. They spent a night at the campsite, a fire cracking at their feet and a canopy of stars above their heads.

Anything can change your life forever. It can be something big like falling in love. Or something so teeny-tiny that it doesn’t even leave a mark. Like a bite of a rabid bat. Upon returning home from their holiday in the embrace of nature, Liz started exhibiting symptoms of a virus-like infection. Doctors failed to identify the root cause of her condition until it was too late. The girl died of rabies. 

It might sound awfully cliché, but as a loving parent, her father wanted to commemorate his daughter’s memory. While Liz was undergoing treatment in a hospital, Daniil became a first-hand witness of the sorry state of affairs of medical facilities. Little patients were surrounded by nothing but faceless white walls and stiff plastic chairs for parents in hallways. Daniil poured all his grief and sorrow into the project of building a state-of-the-art children’s hospital where parents would be welcomed into the healing process, and children would have buoyant space to recover that felt like home. It took another two years for the Elizaveta Watzlav Children’s Hospital to open.

Daniil played a pioneering role in addressing the problem of restricting parents’ access to their children once they were admitted to the clinic. Not only did the Elizaveta hospital become a template for all the following world-class children’s medical facilities built, but it also set the health system on track towards designing special parents’ houses on the grounds of the existing hospitals not to separate the minors with their next of kin. So, is Daniil a hero? Indeed.  But then again, do you need to be a hero to help others with all your heart?  

Story #6, CPE Review “Paradise Lost” by John Milton

Prompt⤵️

A literary magazine has invited readers to submit reviews of classical books that seem to have been undeservedly forgotten. You decide to submit a review of a forgotten classic you liked. Your review should briefly describe the book, explain why it deserves to be remembered, and assess the importance of classical literature.

----------

"Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven." There's hardly a person who'd never heard these words from the monologue delivered by Satan in John Milton's work "Paradise Lost." In his quintessential poem, epic both in scale and ambition, Milton wrote in a state of total blindness, claiming to have divine inspirations that approached him nightly.

A tragic and powerful piece whose legacy didn’t endure as firmly as one of its remarkable quotes. Beautifully and somewhat encyclopaedically, Milton explores the ideas of salvation and redemption and tells a tale of a war that rages across Hell. Outlining the portions of the Bible, he puts the story of the Fall of Man in the center of his immense drama. A fallen angel, vain and full of pride, Satan is the projection of all too human temptations that compel readers subconsciously to sympathize with him.

“Paradise Lost" is a book of questions, daunting and intense, that deserves to be remembered. As you submerge deep into philosophical matters of the nature of a human being and its purpose on Earth, you are compelled to re-conceptualize entirely your ideas of Hell, Heaven, God, and Devil. What makes it even more valuable is a chance Milton hands over to readers to analyze the evolution of the English language through his poem's lines. "Paradise Lost" allegedly gave us more than five hundred English words, such as "satanic" or "terrific," and negative forms of already existing words like "irresponsible" or "unprincipled." It also provides us with a new angle to look at the overall poetic genre. The poem doesn't rhyme; instead, Milton uses blank-verse: ten-syllable metrical lines.

The book is a classic once it withstands the test of time. Classical literature encompasses different periods of history; therefore, it enhances our comprehension of human nature and sets the basis for broader vocabulary and a profound understanding of the language, its origins, and functions. Even though most classical characters we see in the canon books might not be applicable today, the message they carry is timeless, and their merits cannot be undermined.

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!!!!

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 #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 #8 "The 5-Second Rule"

It's a CPE-based book review of "The 5-second rule" by Mel Robbins.

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.

What if somebody told you that you are just 5 seconds away from a totally different life? From having a better job? From being a better parent? From succeeding in business? The answers to all the questions above are explored by Mel Robbins, an Ivy League-educated criminal defense attorney, in her book “The 5-second rule”. Given that the only thing standing in your way is yourself, Robbins, with her quick wit and fiery opinion, hands over to the readers a simple way to break the habit of hesitation and set a scheme for a better life.

The essence of the five-second rule is in the so-called metacognition tool that enables one to trick the brain into things it wouldn’t normally do. Once you receive the impulse to work towards something, start counting backward, and then physically act on it. The moment you miss that five-second window, your mind shuts down, as it is designed to stop you from doing anything uncomfortable, uncontrollable, uncertain.

I wish I could say that to me, the book was nothing short of an epiphany. That I could trace back every single problem and complaint to hesitation and silence. That applying Robbin’s concept to my day-to-day life presented me with a prospect to push through excuses to procrastinate far enough to see how much more life had in store for me. Nothing supernatural happened though. Nonetheless, following the scheme given in her book, I managed to set my perfect routine to have just the right amount of time to go over my morning procedures, make breakfast, take the kids to school, and embark on a working day with a smile on the face.

Robbin’s 270-page debut is like a shiny new thing that attracts lots of attention. That notwithstanding, it is a prime example of why non-fiction books should probably slim down. They all have pages and pages of testimonials turned into riveting, albeit juvenile, and overly repetitive stories. Aside from that, they are heavily seasoned with pretentious advertisements, giving readers a feeling of being marketed to, on each page. That’s precisely why services like Blinkist can summarize such books succinctly into fifteen-minute reads. You may be tricked into thinking that you are handed over a tool to enrich your life; however, for jaded readers, it might be no more than an old pseudo-psychological trick wrapped in a new package.