#betsy is always like women?women.

[amageish]

Boom Boom + Cipher

From X-Men '97: Remember It.

My over-analysis of this 1.8 seconds of implied Sapphic content under the cut.

So... Let's dig in!

In Episode 5 of X-Men '97, we get a scene in a Genoshan Gala that intentionally feels like a gay club, despite it largely centering characters who, nominally at least, are straight. There is one moment of queerness in it, a scene of two women dancing together - who comic fans may recognize as Tabitha Smith AKA Boom Boom and Alisa Tager AKA Cipher.

My first reaction to this was to be confused? Like. The X-Men is a very queer brand. There are a LOT of textually queer characters who they could have used for their one moment of Sapphic desire. Hell, Karma and Galura got together while dancing at the Hellfire Gala - and Betsy and Rachel's romance began its road from subtext to text there as well. Cipher and Boom Boom feel so... random to me?

But then I began thinking about it more and talking about it with people... and I kind of really like it?

Cipher's entire thing is that she exists invisibly and intangibly. She debuts in Young X-Men, but it is revealed she has been around for years of comic history before then. She has been there the whole time, impacting the narrative from the sidelines, helping her classmates through their troubles despite being a secret to nearly everyone.

That experience can be mapped onto a lot of minority experiences, but it certainly works well for queer experiences. Queer people are historically ignored and have their stories sidelined, but they have always been around - acting in the shadows, waiting for the safety to come out and be themselves in public.

I think there's something interesting about the queer rep in this show set in the 90s being someone who has this sort of story. She may not be a protagonist, but she's the hero of her own story and is metatextually waiting for the chance to come out and show herself fully... It's neat!

On the other hand, I think this character choice could also be read as a sort of dig at Disney S&P by the animators?

Disney is often (rightfully) critiqued for having these blink-or-you'll-miss-it moments of queerness - and, when they do them, they often censor them out when releasing the films in more queerphobic markets... and so having the queer character be someone who can TURN HERSELF INVISIBLE is kind of funny in that way too? Her powers fit her role as a background Disney gay - she can make herself go unnoticed. Literally. So unnoticed that even TELEPATHS cannot read her mind.

Boom Boom, meanwhile, also makes sense as a sort of allegorical queer character, but in a less fun and interesting way... In the comics, she has a story about her father not accepting her mutanthood in a way that mirrors certain real-life queer experiences.

ANYWAY. That is probably too much opining on what is under two seconds of gay content... I do hope we see some comic book canon queers in more roles going forward - all we've gotten thus far is Northstar in a Mojoverse vision - but this gif-length of time was neat to me and got me thinking if nothing else!

[darkworkcourier]

Hi, hello, I decided to be stupidly self-indulgent and write my Courier/Cooper Howard. I guess it's an AU in the sense that I'm writing this under the No Gods, No Masters ending of FNV? Mr. House whomst.

---

All these years on, Cooper still hates Vegas.

He did some work in there—movie scenes, photo ops, theater releases. Casinos used to pay people like him just to show up, to draw in big crowds eager to gamble alongside the stars. He'd throw down a couple dollars on a blackjack table or at the roulette wheel, then make a beeline for the buffet when his time was up. He never had time to go sightseeing in the Mojave, to gaze down the long concrete throat of Hoover Dam, to catch all the sunset colors at Red Rock Canyon.

He flew in and out, and felt dirty all the while.

Knowing what he does about fellas like Robert House, he feels a particular kind of dirty again as New Vegas wavers like a mirage on the horizon. He's passed through before, following bounties through NCR checkpoints and around Legion patrols back when those bastards still crawled like red mites through the canyons and gullies.

This time is no different. A bounty on a would-be gunslinger who put a bullet into a brahmin baron's son during a bar fight. His trail's easy to follow, as all Cooper has to do is the world's longest bar crawl and ask after a shaken-up little shit in a mouse-colored duster. Same color as his coward hide, Cooper says.

His route takes him to a little outpost called Goodsprings. It's quaint in the way that Wasteland towns usually are—just people trying to keep their heads down and still attached to their necks. They must see ghouls aplenty, as everyone from the bighorner rancher to the bartender doesn't so much as bat an eye at the sight of him.

The bartender in particular is his favorite kind of person. The only question she asks is what he'll be drinking, and then she slides him a shot of whiskey and the rest of the bottle.

"Good for the caps?" she asks.

He nods, knuckles the brim of his hat as extra confirmation. "Much obliged, ma'am."

She scoffs with a smile. "Heavens to betsy, but you're polite. Oughta teach some of our other menfolk 'round here to mind their manners."

"It's a dyin' art," he agrees.

She goes back to wiping out chipped glasses with a rag that probably gets them dirtier than not. As she does, the saloon door opens with a low, throaty creak, getting both of their attentions.

The bartender coughs out a laugh. "Been a minute since you darkened our doorway, honey," she says.

Cooper glances over his shoulder to the visitor, burned-up brows rising in surprise. On one hand, she's a Wasteland special—.308 rifle slung over her shoulder, tan face windburnt on the cheeks, aged brahmin leather rucksack over her shoulder practically busting at the seams with supplies. At a glance, he can't tell if she's a scavver, caravaneer, or mercenary—maybe all three.

But on the other hand, he doesn't see women like her all that often. She's probably in her late 30s or so, although he's absolutely shit at guessing ages these days. A pair of aviator sunglasses rest on top of her head—hair blue-black and tied back—like she's a movie star at poolside. And, hell, the rest of her looks that way, too. If it weren't for all the hallmarks of a life lived out in the wastes, she'd fit right in to his best Hollywood memories. Boxed at the edges, sure, but pretty as all get out.

He doesn't often bitch about being a ghoul, but seeing girls like her out in the wastes really makes him kick himself over getting irradiated.

"Trudy," she greets, sliding onto the stool beside him easy as pie. Like the rest of the town, she doesn't so much as blink at him. "How're things?"

"Just dandy," the bartender replies, sliding a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla, of all things, across the bar top. "How's Vegas?"

The woman snorts as she opens the bottle, sliding the cap into one of her many pockets. "Same as always. Loud. Full of people with more money than brains. I needed a vacation."

"Well, you know you're always welcome," Trudy says, reaching across the bar to pat the woman on the arm. "Now, Sunny'd kill me right dead if I didn't tell her you were in town. I'm gonna hop out back an' let her know, if that's alright."

"Sure," the woman replies. She grins, a little pinch appearing at the bridge of her nose. "Me an' tall, dark, and ghoulish'll keep an eye out for any ruffians."

And just like they've been friends for decades, the woman gently elbows him in the bicep. If it were anyone else, or anywhere else, he might take a little offense. But it's not often that any gal quite like her even touches him, and this town is nice. So he just smiles and nods, good as anything.

"Of course, ma'am," he says, touching the brim of his hat again. "Do what you gotta do."

"Much obliged," she says, echoing him. She looks back to the woman. "Lizzie, you be nice to this fella."

"Always!"

Trudy heads out from behind the bar, leaving Cooper with her—Lizzie. He watches her take a long drink of her sarsaparilla, following the line of her throat, the faint bob as she swallows. She's still got sweat clinging to her skin from the desert heat, but he can also see freckles on her bare shoulders and her cheeks. If he still had the network of blood vessels to get warm in the face, he thinks he might just.

Lizzie sets her drink down and turns to look right back at him. Not at all put off by his stares. She's all smiles, eyes crinkling with crow's feet at the corners. "See somethin' you like, cowboy?" she asks.

Flirting right out the goddamn gate. It doesn't sound like a joke coming from her, which takes him by surprise.

But it's just as easy to fall into a role.

"Suppose'n I do," he replies. "If you're into irradiated fellas, that is."

She breaks into a laugh, which he almost thinks is at his expense until she follows it up. "Cariño, I'm mostly into people who click the Geiger counter," she says, all matter of fact.

Color him surprised again. "S' that so?"

Lizzie leans over the top of the bar, elbow on the top, chin resting in her palm. Her grin's as wide and content as a cat. "I got a track record, won't lie," she says. "Y'know there's a dominatrix ghoul in Freeside?"

He didn't, but that's a fact he's going to be rolling around in the ol' decrepit gray matter for a while. "Huh," is all he says before taking a shot.

"If you tell her Lizzie Holliday sent you, she might give you a discount."

"I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart."

The nickname seems to make her preen, and she takes another drink like she's fortifying herself. She sets it back down, then gives him a long once-over that almost makes him self-conscious.

Almost.

"Wanna get out of here?" she asks.

"Ain't you got a friend wantin' to visit?"

This time, her smile shows some teeth. One of her top incisors is chipped, and some deep-set part of Cooper that still wants supplies the thought that he ought to test how that tooth feels on his own tongue.

"She knows my priorities," Lizzie says.

And that's all the invitation Cooper needs.

---

Holy-good-goddamn, but he missed this.

Lizzie's riding him like he's the last train out of Yuma, rolling her hips over his, hands braced on his shoulders with a grip that would hurt someone with more nerve endings. Her hair's out of its ponytail, messed up one one side where he raked his hand through it while she was sucking his cock earlier.

And holy shit did she have some technique. He doesn't have a reason to doubt that she's fucked ghouls before, since she put just enough pressure on all the right parts so that he could feel it. And not once did she shy away from him once his clothes were on the floor and he was sprawled out on her bed.

Her bed, in a converted ranch home that she's made positively cozy. He feels like a teenager sneaking in through the window, out of place amongst the artwork and Christmas lights and tchotchkes. He could almost put himself two centuries back, in some college girl's over-decorated dorm room.

But sorority girls don't have deathclaw skulls mounted over their dressers.

Lizzie suddenly catches him on an upward thrust that makes both of them hiss. Then she seats herself flush against him, and it's the closest to heaven he's probably going to get for the kind of bastard he is. She's warm, slick-wet around him and for him. Hazel eyes blown wide and cheeks dark with arousal. It's the first time in years he's felt wanted like this; like he's something worth wanting rather than the irradiated husk of a man.

Another thrust and she shudders, muttering in Spanish and squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn't catch what she says, but he can't help a little self-deprecation for the road. "If you gotta pretend I'm someone else, by all means."

She swears—and that doesn't need a translation—before her eyes are open and fixed on him. "Give me a name to start moanin' and there won't be any confusion," she says, rolling her hips to punctuate it.

"Jesus Christ," he says through his teeth.

"I'm not callin' you that."

He wouldn't normally offer up his name to anyone not worth knowing he was a human once, but she's something different. He knows that the way the wind blows, he'll likely never see her again, but he'll keep the memory of her tucked nice and close for those lonely, long nights.

"Cooper," he says at last.

She smiles, eyes reflecting those ridiculous rainbow lights strung up around her bedroom. Something about her feels otherworldly, powerful. Either he's already in some weird endorphin-induced haze, or he's more into her than he thought.

"Cooper," she repeats. It's easy and warm as sunshine in her mouth, and he wants to hear it again. He bucks his hips for her, driving up into that heat, eager to get a gasp, a whisper—anything.

And she delivers. Leaning over, tits pressed to his chest, mouth by one of his scarred-up ears, she says his name over and over. Follows the rhythm of his thrusts, loses the syllables as he pushes her over the edge. His name is unstrung, a thread caught in her moans and keens. Then she's pushed to open-mouthed silence, riding it out in desperate asyncopation.

When she finally comes down, he's on the way up. She's clinging to his shoulders still, their chests pressed together, her heartbeat a riot of rhythm rushing through his chest.

Then her mouth goes back to his ear.

"It's Adelita," she says, sighs. "Lizzie to everyone else. Adelita to you."

It's a hell of a trade—a name for a name, a release for a god-fucking-blessed release. He comes harder than he has in years, her name warm on his tongue. He fucks into her, pulsing, filling her, earning another gasp and moan wrapped around his name.

When it's all done, she rolls off him onto her back, chest heaving for breath. He's wheezing for his through rotten lungs. But he watches her, the colors of the lights on her freckled skin and in her eyes, the tresses of her hair falling across her sweat-damp forehead, the scar—

His eyes catch on it. Two interlinked starbursts of scar tissue on the right side of her forehead.

Bullet wounds.

He reaches up to push her hair away from it, pads of his fingers brushing over her skin so that he can almost fool himself into thinking he can feel it. "Looks like there's a story up here," he says. Maybe jokes.

She's still smiling. A little weary, a little amused. "That's my hard reset," she says.

"Oh?"

His hand's still on the scar, and she reaches up to tap the back of his hand twice. Tap-tap, in hard sequence. "Two little 9mm bites," she explains. "Sent me into an early grave."

Cooper frowns, looks at her hand now resting on his, both pressed to her forehead. Now that he's looking, he can also see a faint, hair-thin scar that follows her scalp line all the way across. This girl's got some history.

"I gather that it didn't take," he replies.

Lizzie—Adelita—hums to herself, then sings, "There ain't no grave can hold my body down," before looking up at him. "I did get better."

"I see that. So, either you're the prettiest ghoul that done walked the wastes, or the Mojave's got better doctors than I thought."

"The latter," she confirms. "Myself included."

"No shit?"

Her dark brows rise, grin plain on her face. "Doc Holliday. Get it?"

The joke catches him by surprise, again. A lot of shit about this girl is a surprise. It pries a laugh out of him, then earns a few strokes through her hair. "That's good," he says. "That's real good."

"Gracias."

They lay there in a shockingly comfortable silence. His hand in her hair, combing the strands back and away from that scar. She leans up against him, eyes half-lidded, a dreamy expression on her face.

Then, she sighs, "This is already a damn good vacation."

"Glad I could contribute," Cooper says. "High-stress job?"

She sighs, blinks slow, then reaches up and rests an arm across his waist. "You have no idea," she says.

Curiosity gets the best of him. He's a man who appreciates people keeping their noses—or lack thereof—out of his business. However, he's also a bounty hunter, a man making his too-long living on asking the right questions and using those answers to his benefit down the road. It might be good to know something about her, to make connections, to network as some assholes in his past life might say.

"Merc work? Or somethin' worse?"

"Jack of all trades," she says. She raises up her gaze to him, and for one brief, strange moment, her eyes catch that unearthly light again that he can't entirely blame on the Christmas lights. "Mostly courier. An' mostly ruler of New Vegas."

---

Years down the line, Cooper Howard goes back to Vegas.

It's with company now—a vault girl he's tolerating a little more by the day, and a dog. They cross the Mojave, following the silhouette of Vegas by day and its glow by night, drawing in closer and closer like irradiated moths to Vegas' big ol' flame.

Just shy of Goodsprings, as the foothills lean forward like they're drawn in by the city, too, Lucy asks, "What kind of place is New Vegas, anyhow?"

Cooper shrugs and adjusts his pack as Dogmeat trots alongside him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. "Sleazy, dirty, bright," he says. Then, his eyes catch the tallest building in the row of casinos—the top a massive roulette wheel with its spire pointing to heaven. He has to amend his opinion, for the first time since he stepped foot in Vegas as a healthy human. "Ain't the worst watering hole, though."

"We're not going to get shot at right through the gate?"

Despite himself, Cooper smiles. He draws down the brim of his hat as low as he can without losing vision.

"Nah," he says. "All we gotta say is that Lizzie Holliday put in a good word for us."

[clarkes-and-god]

"Hi Beth! How're you doing?"

"Oh, hello Zizi! Gosh, I don't think we were expecting company. Is everything ok?"

"Don't be silly, we're fine! I just thought I'd drop by, I have a casserole for you since you're about to have that sweet baby. It's made with the mushrooms Cooper found the other day, and all the cheese is made from milk from our cow, Betsy. It's really good for you and the baby. So much better than that processed junk, that'll only make you fat."

"That's very thoughtful of you, it looks... very healthy."

"Talking about that, have you made up your mind on the home birth yet? I mean, I know it's a bit unusual for you, but I really think a home birth is the best option for you and the baby. And I can help! I've done it before, I know what I'm doing. I used to help my Mama when my little brothers and sisters were born."

"I mean, I just worry about what if something goes wrong. What would we do? It'll take so long to get to a hospital from up here, we might not get a doctor in time."

"Beth, you need to put your faith in the Lord. Us ladies are designed for this, your body knows what to do. The only reason people always have doctors nowadays is because the government wants to be involved with our kids as soon as possible, and they inject those babies with all sorts of horrible chemicals, it's not natural."

"I understand where you're coming from, Zizi, but I've just always thought I'd give birth in a hospital, and I really want what's safest for the baby. I wouldn't get the baby vaccinated or anything, my mom never did that either."

"Look, I get that you think hospitals are safer, but that's just what you've been told. Actually, more than 97% of babies in the NICU were born in hospitals, so I don't know how you can think they're any safer. And women who give birth in hospital, and their babies, are 70% more likely to have intervention related injuries! I think it all could be avoided if we just put a little more trust in God, He designed us to do this perfectly."

"Really? How awful! All those little babies all alone in the NICU! That's just horrid. So hospitals aren't safer? Goodness, maybe we should reconsider. I'll talk to Fabian about it."

"Good! Yeah, they really aren't. You know, I've heard that some women asked for their babies not to be vaccinated or something, but the hospital did it anyways! I pray every day for all those sweet babies who have mamas who put them in danger like that, just because it's what everyone else does, and because they're a slave to the system and want to go back to work as soon as possible.

"I think I will, too."

[megamindsupremacy]

Crossover PJO fics

PJO/DC

Sons of wisdom by darkmagyk

'Bruce has always known he’s meant for war.

As a son of Athena, the gods probably think he’s meant for their war.

They are wrong.'

Bruce Wayne is a Demigod. It changes absolutely everything. It changes almost nothing.

-

The ship of Theseus by zipadeea

���What do you think of the Waynes?” Percy had asked Annabeth the week before. “Seems like they’re in Gotham’s headlines all the time, and not always for great reasons. You think they’re involved with the mob or something?”

“The opposite, actually,” Annabeth had replied, a wry smile on her face.

“What’s the opposite of the mob?”

“In Gotham? What do you think?”

Percy’s eyes had widened. “No. No way. Bruce Wayne is such a goof, there’s no way--,”

“Wouldn’t that be the best cover, though?”

***

Poseidon once told Percy he was his favorite son.

But he's not the only one.

-

Oh my Gods by siren_of_the_ocean

Tim Drake is a demigod in the Battle of Manhattan. He sends Thalia to inform the Justice league about well…Everything. And Kon is concerned.

-

PJO/Marvel

Toil and trouble by silverbird6

The air was thick with magic, so similar to the Mist and yet much more…chaotic. It pulled at the strands of Hazel’s hair and clutched at her mind, trying to convince her she was Betsy, a member of the neighborhood women's club and was very interested in making sure the town talent show went off without a hitch. Hazel was more concerned with the way she seemed to lose time every once in a while and wake up in a strange house, usually cooking or cleaning or tending to the garden.

After the events of Avengers Endgame, Hazel follows some unusual magic to the small town of Westview.

-

The File by denimbeans

The elevator dinging was probably the best sound Hazel had ever heard. Thanking the Gods for Leo and his well thrown screwdriver hitting the button, she had rushed to the Doors.

Clytius got there first.

When a body had collapsed on the threshold, Hazel almost felt like throwing up. It was Percy, it had to be, but…Gods of Olympus, he looked horrible. His hair was longer than she remembered, matted and streaked with blood. His clothes were torn and coated with golden dust. His skin looked like somebody had sucked the life out of it.

-

Can I Write 'Tried to rob Tony Stark' on My Resume? by hyperInactive

Percy was at least happy that this wasn't a prophecy. Stealing back some demigod weapons from a mortal? Sure, Iron Man was a superhero and a genius, but after dealing with Gaea, that was nothing. They just had to steer clear of anyone who might recognize them, and they were positive that they could pull it off easier than most of their quests. And potentially land Leo a job, while they're at it.

But Percy should have known better. Nothing is ever that simple for a demigod.

-

The Battle of New York... the SECOND Battle of New York by Variscite

The Seven (plus Nico and Will) fight in the Battle of New York with the Avengers.

This is set after the Trials of Apollo, so if you haven’t read that you’ll get pretty major spoilers, just a heads up.

ROUND TWO ADDITION:

Ancient History, Modern Times by tearsofsaudade

Clint was the first one to notice the kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing an old blue hoodie over a faded orange shirt and sitting cross-legged on a bench in Central Park eating a sandwich.  All normal things for teenage boys to be doing.  He shook his head and brushed black hair out of his face as he took another bite, completely unconcerned.

Meanwhile, Thor flew two feet in front of him at the speed of sound as a giant robot flung him away from the fight happening literally right in front of the bench.

Or: Percy Jackson meets different Avengers because he's doing things he shouldn't be doing. As usual.

-

And Death Won't Come Knocking by icewhisper

The history books remember Steve Rogers as the son of an Irish immigrant, but the people who saw him every summer remember him as Greek.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Nisei (3x09)

For years Penny tried to ignore the flashes. It seemed like out of nowhere, she’d be blinded by a bright, white light she couldn’t blink away. Sometimes during intimacy with her husband, his loving face would be momentarily replaced by a familiar stranger looming over her, causing her to cry and pull away. Other times, all she could hear was the whirring sound of a drill.

These flashes would only last a moment, and for years she told herself it was probably just a side effect of the stress her unexplained disappearances caused. A drug habit, fugue state, an affair, everyone had their theories about where she was when she went missing. All Penny knew was that, cumulatively, there were nine months of her life that she didn’t get to live.

But then something happened, and she couldn’t ignore the flashes anymore. Penny had been to the gynecologist plenty of times in her life, but this time she was filled with a sense of impending dread. It was a perfect storm of triggers, being so exposed, her legs spread in the stirrups, the smell of anesthetic, the sharp snap of plastic gloves, the cold metal-

They were strapping her down to the table, injecting her with something that made her vision blur. Her stomach felt like it was going to burst. She could feel the metal rod impaling her.

The next thing she knew, she was in the corner of the room screaming while her OBGYN looked on in horror.

After that, she recognized the flashes for what they were: memories.

* * *

After joining the MUFON group, Penny learned there were some memories all the women in the group shared — the light, the men, the pain. 

But, usually, everyone remembered something that was unique to their experience. Lottie remembered one of her doctors sardonically humming America the Beautiful as he arranged the drill bit. Betsy remembered hearing an Asian language being spoken above her. Quite a few women fervently remembered someone smoking a cigarette.

For Penny, she remembered comforting a young woman with auburn hair. But, just like all the memories, it came back in vague bits, vignettes that were difficult to discern. 

Someone screaming, “Stop! Get away from me!”

The distant sounds of beeping getting faster.

A sense of empathetic dread.

A trembling, red-headed woman who reminded Penny of her sister.

The warmth of holding someone in her arms.

Bright blue eyes filled with tears.

Today, she finally got to put a name with a face.

Dana Scully.

* * *

There was something surreal about knowing the ins and outs of a stranger’s body language.

Dana’s tendency to blink back emotions, the anxious swipe of her tongue across her lips, her need to shield her vulnerability by hiding her face in her hands — Penny knew it all. She had been at Dana’s side during some of the darkest times of their lives, yet she had to resist the urge to pull her into her arms like she’d done a thousand times before. The younger woman didn’t remember her.

Even though Penny found comfort in knowing these other women knew what she’d gone through, she understood why it could make someone uncomfortable. The intimate violations they’d all endured were dehumanizing, cruel, and seemingly senseless. Dana seemed to be a private person, having a room full of people she didn’t recognize talk about her trauma so openly seemed to be too much.

She said she wasn’t ready to discuss her experience, and Penny respected that. Trying to figure out what words felt accurate to the violation was a personal experience for everyone. 

Penny wishes she could take away her pain. The first time is always the worst, and this woman thinks they’re going to kill her. She doesn’t realize they aren’t that merciful. She isn’t sure why they keep allowing her to approach the young woman, let alone hold her for so long, but she isn’t going to question it. Physical touch that didn’t come with pain was rare here.

* * *

There were women just like them all over the globe, women who came together after their abduction experiences to offer support to each other. The people in their day-to-day lives might not have been willing to listen to them, but according to Betsy, some of the women from the European chapters of MUFON said they had caught the attention of people who hadn’t been abducted. There was even a woman who was interested in their stories, who cared enough to document their experiences and accompany the women to their doctor’s appointments.

Getting other people to listen was the first step to being taken seriously, to finding out who was behind this.

There weren’t many of them in Allentown, but they had each other. It was the strength of these women that got her through those experiences, and it was the strength of these women that would help her embark on this dark path they were all destined to walk.

Penny’s hand covers the back of Dana’s neck where an adhesive bandage covers the mark that will tie them together forever.

Dana doesn’t say much anymore, but when she does, it’s usually the same reassurance to herself.

“He’ll find me.”

“My partner, he-uh,” Dana stammered, turning away from the window when Betsy struggled to climb down from the MRI machine, clearly exhausted from the new rounds of tests she was forced to undergo. “He’s waiting for me.”

“I know this is hard, Dana,” Penny whispered, clasping the woman’s hands in her own for the first time in over a year. “But I hope you know you’re not alone.”

Dana offered a small smile and squeezed Penny’s hand before stepping out of the room.

“Do you think we’ll be seeing her again?” Lottie asked from beside her.

“We’re going to get out of here,” the red-headed woman whispers against Penny’s temple, wiping away tears Penny didn’t realize had fallen. “You can’t give up hope.”

With a smile, Penny nodded. “Yes."

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Ao3

@gaycrouton

[cupcakeshades94]

The necessities.

∆ I want to send a deep apology to all my future children. Brown, white, or yellow. I sure have been caught in the ugliest little shorts and pajamas I will ever wear. I know what your thinking. Well sweetheart you need to smell some flowers and wake up pretty early. I proved all these beautiful fashionistas are planning these day to day outfits. If they are not than you are seriously blessed. Right sweet chops I'm trying to complement you because to look fabulous you obviously are fabulous. If not I'm here to talk about essentials. I know about all these fashion tips because of shopping and observational cues. I have been doing my own shopping for about ten years now.

• Let's start with tank tops. Please do not shy away from name branded T-shirts and tanks. I would recommend a very soft fabric like Polo. I sure would also recommend their Beverly Hills Collection. Also do not shy away from a bold red tank top. I recommend getting them in brown, tan, white, and black. I sure did own a bright purple tank top before in my High School Era. This of course was before my Apartment was raided by my immigrant family. That my dear is another topic.

• Black pants are a must. Leather is fine and expensive my dear. Try an outlet store instead of the traditional Zara. Try Nordstrom and the all traditional Marshalls. I know what your thinking. I much rather Nordstrom. I have to tell you that I found the cutest baby blue Toms there at Marshalls. Also snag a look at TJ Maxx. I would bundle up on black jeans. Try buying about five pairs of the good old black Levis jeans. If you cannot find any Levis than try a good Charlotte jean. Black has always been a color to signify death. So be careful on having so much black. Yet, a funeral outfit, is a must.

• White T-Shirt. I recommend printed whites as well. They pair well with the basic jean. Light or dark. Accompany them with more of a Jane shoe. Even the boots that yell out hippie. The color white is a good color for rebirth. It is very traditional. I also would recommend a white button down.

• Comfort Bra and Panties. I recommend the colors Tan and Black. I ain't swearing by them, but they are, the usual traditional colors. Try snagging a pink comfort bra and panties for the sake of girlhood.

• Branded socks. Try Adidas and champion. That I can swear by. For women' try a more snug feel' and men should try a more constructive feeling.

• Recognized Jewlery. Do not shy away from the old snatch of Sterling silver. I know I know. You want gold. I would recommend the site of Etsy. I love the Betsy Jewelry as well. I also recommend the Kay jewelers.

• Printed Apparel. Like the Iconic tree printed Michael Kors shirt. Very epic. I would also like to see more of these women wearing Polka Dots. Just saying.

• Black Shoes. Try one with a buckle. The dearly beloved Coach Brand can help in this.

[thebreakfastgenie]

ok Alan Alda characters in Alan Alda movies ranked by how much I like them

Jack The Four Seasons (he does have a last name in the credits but I forget what it is and can't be bothered) - he kinda sucks but he really loves Carol Burnett and I love him. he loves his kid too but he doesn't really have scenes with her because Alan was letting his daughters spread their own wings while nepo-ing them. his "I'm tired of being nice I just wanna go apeshit" moment when he smashes the shit out of a ski lodge was like. felt. also jumps in the water and takes a bite out of the middle of a baguette both of which I would do.

Joe Tynan Seduction of Joe Tynan he's a united states senator and the only one directly confirmed to eat pussy

Steve Giardino A New Life (I'm like 80% sure that's his name I'm not googling any more of these) he's like viscerally upsetting to look at but kind of in a good way. he works on wall street which is lame. he has a doctor fetish (tells his ex-wife she should be a doctor, marries a doctor). eats after sex but unlike Joe Tynan does not use this habit to confirm he eats pussy. specifically eats ice cream with red pepper flakes on it. is obsessed with putting red pepper flakes on all food.

Eddie Hopper Betsy's Wedding (ok I actually did have to google this one but I did not google Jack The Four Seasons' last name at the same time) he's so fucking stupid it takes him most of the movie to figure out he's involved with the mob

Michael Burgess Sweet Liberty the reason I can't remember any of their names with confidence is I always just call them Alan Alda but he might be the most Alan Alda of them all. he's a professor but we barely see him teach which is sad. he has some really sparkling moments though like using the same lettuce technique to pick up two different women and getting his shirt homoerotically cut to shreds by Michael Caine and having a man say "step on me" to him. he also sleeps with a woman who is portraying the subject of his historical research in a film and the gets upset that she's an actual person out of character and I wish more of the movie was about how insane he was for that. he kind of deserves all of his travails except the thing with his mother. I still love him tho.

[hackoftheyear]

top 5 quests on new vegas!

Oooo!!

Bye bye love— Joanna is charming and I get to help her and other women escape terrible things, it then also leads into me betraying and killing Cachino lol. Headcanon is that they settled down in Novac and the courier goes over for dinner sometimes

Three card bounty— I get to kill Cookcook! Very cathartic sometimes. I like the challenge of the fights overall in that one

Classic Inspiration— fun for role playing purposes especially, like “what landmarks would my courier think Michaelangelo would want to see?” I always take extra pictures, not just the ones he needs.

I forgot to remember to forget— the themes of guilt and grief and bitterness and choice. His belief that he has bad things coming to him, that he deserves it, and is just waiting for it to happen. Something about bearing the shame and weight of your past. Also I think he is right, what the legion would have done to Carla is worse than death.

I don’t hurt anymore— once again, I get to help a woman with trauma, also Betsy is a lesbian which I mean I love a lesbian, and talking to her squadmates to get their stories to try to convince her with is interesting and fills out the world of the game a little more.

Bonus: One for my baby— love Boone, love his sad story, etc etc also Novac is one of my favorite places in the game

[jomiddlemarch]

Thank you, @tortoisesshells for the kind tag! Sorry for the delay in responding-- work conference, Covid recovery, band geek mom triple threat.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

845. You read that correctly. Several proper drabbles and at least two co-authored fics, including the Mansion House Murder Hotel round robin.

2. What's your total A03 words count?

1,453,769. Again, that includes some co-written fic I am not inclined to parse for my exact count.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mercy Street, Foyle's War, Shadow and Bone, Poldark, A Discovery of Witches, Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, The Last of Us, GLOW, Downton Abbey, Frozen, James Bond, Star Wars, The Hour, Ted Lasso, Sanditon, Dune, Leap/Ballerina, Brooklyn 99, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Gilmore Girls, Far From The Madding Crowd, Emma, Betsy-Tacy, and a few others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"what it is to be a thin crescent moon" (SAB), "A Wife--at daybreak I shall be" (AOGG), "Point and Click" (SAB, modern AU), "Bear with the truths I would tell you now," (Emma), "The subtlest fold of the heart" (AOGG)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do. At a bare minimum, I try to thank the commenter for taking the time to read. In the halcyon days of Mercy Street, I wrote long, discursive essay-comments because that was our vibe. I am not always prompt, but I do try to get back to people, though sometimes if the comment is very thoughtful, it takes me a while because I want to give an equivalent response.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably "Because I could not stop for Death," a Mercy Street fic where I wrote vignettes where I killed someone in each of the 18 installments, though I did end the whole thing killing the agreed-upon most loathsome character. I don't tend to write fics with angsty endings, though I don't mind writing it midway.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This is tough, because I mostly write HEA. I'm going to pick a relatively deep cut and say "Always a Bridesmaid," the Mercy Street modern au rom-com, since the whole thing is a fairly giddy romp.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

A little. I've received 1-2 negative comments on AO3 and once wrote a gift-fic for someone in the Reylo fandom and got attacked on what was then Twitter and Tumblr by fans of the writer I was gifting, even though I had offered to the writer to take the story down. I now only write gift-fic for people I have some relationship with.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. It's full of consent, sometimes awkward (who else has written crappy postpartum sex on Tumblr? I may be the cheese standing alone on that one) and almost never results in an unplanned pregnancy as a plot device. I most write cis-het and strenuously avoid using any term for a penis that isn't dick or cock. No straining members (sounds like a bunch of constipated middle management.)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

OMG, yes! I love crossovers, so this is tough to answer. I'll go with a more recent one, "the better part of valor," Mercy Street/The Last of Us, though I have also used Sesame Street as an AU frame for Mercy Street characters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of! (Ditto to @tortoisesshells)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Maybe 1? I don't get a lot of offers and feel a bit proprietary, since I can't read it to see how well it's translated.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

You betcha! Shout-out to the Mansion House Murder Party and "We run a very tight ship" the Cruise Ship crack-fest that @fericita-s and @sagiow and I boarded during a phase of the lockdown.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I guess I'd have to say Mary Phinney/Jed Foster based on the number of fanfics I've written for them, but I don't really play favorites. I have a real fondness for every pairing I write, including the ones with the OC characters I write for @tessa-quayle.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Maybe this will change the course of history, but "what it means to be a thin crescent moon" is sort of hanging out there. I have some ideas for how to wrap it up but need the time and the mojo, which is harder to come by. I'd also like to get back to my zombie road-trip GLOW AU "Music shall untune the sky" but it's tough because that would be purely for me at this point.

16. What are your writing strengths?

(I hope) Witty banter. Strong female characters who have flaws. Description with plenty of sensory details. Use of quotations, math, and chess gambits :) A pithy drabble.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I find plot the least interesting component of writing fanfic and I think it shows. I love to read long-fic, but I struggle to sustain it. The words "so" and "just."

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I mostly stick to endearments or short phrases. I'm not fluent in any other language and no one needs to discover the various ways Google Translate has let me down.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Mercy Street. I started writing late at night after a work conference, literally drifting in and out of consciousness to lower my inhibitions enough to get started. It was a fic related to a WIP I loved and had written to the author about, so it was very relational.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

What is this, Sophie's Choice? I can't pick a favorite. I'll say I look back with great fondness on my Little Women/Mercy Street crossover "What thou and I did, till we loved," which features Marmee and the Star Trek Kobiyashi Maru Mercy Street crossover "It had the virtue of never having been tried," because like I said, I do love a crossover! Honestly, when there are over 800 fic, I'll admit to have forgotten I'd written some of these :)

Tagging: @asteraceae-blue @orlissa @vesperass-anuna @oldshrewsburyian, @ladamedusoif @trulybettyand anyone else who wants to take this out for a spin!

[terrence-silver]

Who do you think Terry lost his virginity to?

Two options I always leaned towards myself;

Logically, considering he could've been no older than seventeen or eighteen, give or take, he either lost it in Vietnam, much like countless other GI's at the time undoubtedly did, to some nameless sex worker(s), in some nameless brothel, in some city, town or village along the trail of the US war effort in the country. Possibly, after much encouragement and pushing from John and Ponytail who were convinced it was due time and that Twig needed a shove in the right direction. Believable. Some teensy-tinsy amount of peer pressure might've been involved, yes. Maybe not. Who is to tell? A bit of both?

Or, perhaps, years and years before he actually went off to the war, I can see Terry Silver's father as the overly patriarchal, hyper-traditionalist type there to ensure his boy became a man as soon as possible, especially if he deemed his son was already 'too soft', gentle and shy and 'needed fixing'. That extreme measures in these extreme circumstances needed to be taken to avoid his one and only heir from going bad, like a rotten apple; something he had to be coaxed out of a taught a lesson in true manhood 'before it is too late'. What ensued is possibly a criminally young Terry, again, brought to a sex worker or rather, lets call it a 'trusted friend of his father's' who did the job for him as young as age twelve or thirteen and it might've been an affair as clinical as a medical check-up. After all, Terry himself said he has had many teachers and his old man was definitely one of them, I think we all agree, but nobody said the things he was taught were anywhere near sane or even good, not even by the standards of the early to late 1950's when this could've taken place.

Also, I see these two options as something that can coexist side by side.

Terry, or, a young Twig during Vietnam simply lying he was still a virgin at the time he was in the military to his friends who would've undoubtedly teased him relentlessly when he, ironically, fidgety and boyish as he was lost his virginity sooner than any of them (even sooner than the buff, more classically manly, borderline All-American John Kreese himself who had a full-blown sweetheart back home in Betsy), but if he told them that was the case and that he already knew what the fuss was all about, they wouldn't believe him. That he's merely saying it to seem tough and save face. Avoid ridicule. That's what he might've felt. After all, they had a preconceived notion of him and that notion was that Twig was clumsy, silly, a bit of a sheltered haphazard and definitely the type that can't pull poontang or ladies, because hey, c'mon, he's a cute kid, but it is still Twig. Women ain't exactly lining up for some scrawny, lanky guy who is all limbs. In truth, he lost his virginity extremely early. One would even saying worryingly early. Worse yet, I can imagine that for the longest time (or maybe even all his life) Terry Silver was convinced he was done a favor with this early loss of innocence and that it helped strengthen him as a man. That that's how things should be. He became a winner instead of a wimp.

Which, if we open our third eye and tend to view what he, for example, gleefully did to a teenage Daniel Larusso back in the 1980's as a form of grooming (both into violence, bad habits and well --- god only knows) it also explains a lot. It was done to Terry once upon a time. Now, he is doing it to others. Perpetuating a multigenerational cycle of abuse. Hurt people hurt people. In Terry's case, though, he wouldn't necessarily even realize, admit or see himself as one of the hurt parties. Quite the contrary.

[msfbgraves]

Daniel loves being pregnant, but does he actually like how he looks pregnant, especially when he’s near the end of said pregnancy? He didn’t like how he looked when Terry forced him to take the first picture lol. Anyways…When Daniel’s about to go into labor, how does he (or anyone) convince Terry to calm down and let him go to the hospital considering how protective and insane Alphas get? Especially the first time Daniel is ready to have their kid, Sam. Terry was so on edge at the hospital! When their Alpha pups are older, do they feel like this when Daniel is about to have another puppy? Especially the final one, as he’s older then.

Was John the same with Betsy considering she’s a beta, or is John just less “extra” and more stoic/calm under pressure lol?

Daniel is a little vain and he was very far along for the first picture, so he'd let his standards slip somewhat - looking more casual than he'd allow himself otherwise, and nowhere near photo op material. Plus it's just a little on the nose, being photographed because his Alpha wants to show off who exactly put that puppy there. Pictures like that are usually not taken when an omega looks so very well fucked, and pardon my language.

He starts to get very good at pregnancy snazzy chic, and he likes it fine, but this being Daniel he mostly sees his puppy. His baby. All to himself, just Mama and them. It's omega overdrive, his Ma did not feel that way all the time I promise, but Daniel feels a bit selfish about his pregnancy, every time. This is the only time when the pup is completely his, his body a literal barrier between the world and their love. Don't get him wrong, he means it that puppy needs to feel and hear the love of the rest of the family - their Daddy, siblings, famiglia, their voices, love, touch, but ultimately, it's Mama and puppy's special time. And those photo ops, they're about his darling pups for Daniel, born and as yet unborn, the more he takes.

As for Alpha overdrive - that's why Terry employs betas. For somebody to stay cool. Because John Kreese may seem stoic, but especially considering his darling is beta and betas are known to die during this stuff... John is always completely stoic until he straight up flips, so... Bobby, Snake, Dennis, and the beta women like Betsy, Lucille, Jessica have a very important job in making sure people keep their heads. Lucille is mostly close at hand during Daniel's last weeks of pregnancy, and Terry and John may keep each other in check during those times but it's the betas that take over the thinking.

With the last puppies Daniel's children aren't as concerned as they would be about a mate, but Robby is working overtime to keep everyone in check, even Gianni - he seems chill until he's very much not - and Yasmin is using Luna as some kind of envoy between them, Nonna and Anthony because those two are right there at Daniel's side (that's not much use to Yasmin because Luna somehow finds her way to the pediatrics waiting rooms and occupies herself soothing other children there. They won't let her into Mama's room anyway, she's too young.) Luna is right there though when Daddy can't contain himself any longer and tries to stronghold his way unto the parental ward before he's allowed entry. With the last ever pup, she simply stays with Daddy the whole time he's in the Alpha waiting area, which just about keeps Terry coherent.

[plounce]

i like cerebro podcast but it's such a 100 vs 0 experience w the episodes. like there are some i loooove and ill relisten to (iceman, magneto, scott, stacy x, stryfe, rahne, spyral, feral - i could make a list of ones i think r great) and then there are some that i know i can never ever listen to (prodigy, boomboom, & magik bc of the perfidious LW*) bc connor is a bit of an x-office bootlicker 😭 which i understand bc he is friends with a few of them and works in the publishing industry and if i were in his position i would never start shit. but oh my god in the beast ep where spencer ackerman (KING btw) is cautiously dubious about the krakoa-israel allegory and connor rattles off this rose-colored-glasses read of hoxpox starting in jerusalem and its like. bro. you have got to relax the positivity and be suspicious. i do NOT think he's a bad guy ftr. ive just grown enough to know when smth is gonna grind my gears and that i do not need to Try It

*side note i feel bad bc she's a bi lady writer but LW has stuck her foot in her mouth too many times with characters of color for me to trust her or try to want anything to do with her. i think she DOES have a talent for writing certain female characters w depths that they deserve (betsy in xtremists, polaris in xfactor, etc) but there is always an accompanying foot-in-mouth wrt poc (the japanese mutant with RAT POWERS named NEZUKO in xtremists, the whole mess with prodigy and his subplot at the end of xfactor that i know was partially due to the book getting cancelled abruptly** but idk if that topic is a very special episode she needed to be the one to touch as a white woman, it's just so recent and horrifying and raw) that i just can't trust her. sorry women

**side side note: i feel like half the x-line is just constantly books starting and stopping and moving somewhere else there is no STABILITY. IT'S SO MESSY. it's like netflix hq over there CAN YOU JUST LET YOUR BOOKS RUN FOR A WHILE. PLEASE

[thatseventiesbitch]

If you are doing fic requests, can you make one of Donna, Eric, Jackie and Kelso meeting again after a long time and that leads to Eric to confront Kelso about Jay and Leia dating, I love overprotective dad Eric and I'm sure Kelso would take this opportunity to do his iconic burns lol

❤️❤️❤️

Thanks for the ask! This is part 1 of a 2 part double-date drabble (part 2 here 😁) Prompt Ask Game

"Be nice," Donna warned Eric as he pulled open the heavy door to the restaurant and they walked inside.

"Nice?" Eric exclaimed, incredulous.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Fine. Be... not awful."

"I'll try," he growled under his breath.

Donna waved. She spotted Jackie and Kelso across the room, and jabbed Eric with her elbow. "C'mon."

"Eric Forman," Kelso drawled as they approached the table. He stood up and reached a hand out towards his old friend, like he was going to shake his hand. But when Eric extended his, Kelso yanked his hand back and smoothed his palm over his slicked back hair. He laughed abrasively, and then yanked the scrawnier man into a hug anyway.

"Ha. Ha," Eric forced a laugh as they pulled back.

"Jugs a 'Poppin," Kelso acknowledged Donna next. He stared at her chest while he sucked on his teeth. "Still got those poppin' jugs, I see."

"Michael!" Jackie swatted at him.

"And you haven't changed at all, Kelso," Donna chuckled. She and Jackie sat down on one side of the table, and Eric and Kelso sat on the other.

They kept it cordial during their beverage order, and the bread basket. Packers vs the Bears, some small-talk about their jobs, a little about Red & Kitty and Kelso's folks. But as Kelso downed his first beer and started on his second, he licked some of the foam off his upper lip and smirked at Eric. He was starting in.

"Can't believe we have kids now."

"Yeah." Eric shook his head. "I know. It's weird. All grown up."

Kelso shook his head. "All's I can say is I'm glad me and Jackie had a boy." He burped inelegantly, and leaned in with another smirk. "So I only have to worry about one dick instead of every dick, like you."

Eric's expression hardened. "I'm only worried about one," he glared at Kelso. "Your kid better keep his nasty little hands off my Leia, or there'll be - "

"Oh they haven't done it yet," Kelso interrupted casually. He took a bite of his entree. "I asked him last week." He smirked conspiratorially. "Even gave him a few pointers, if you know what I mean - "

Eric slammed down his silverware, hard enough that it caught the attention of the tables around them. He stood up, shoving his chair back from the table with some force.

"Eric," Donna's eyes immediately shot to his, a warning, questioning look on her face. We talked about this.

His inner conflict was apparent on his face. Eric stood for a minute longer, eyes darting for the door like he was contemplating an escape, but he finally sighed and slid back into his chair, his loyalty to his wife and daughter winning out. He rested his head in his hands, while he heard Donna order him another drink. Something stronger. That was probably a bad idea.

"Kelso - you have a daughter too," he said, finally dropping his hands to look at his old friend again, exasperated. "How do you want guys to treat Betsy when they date her?"

"Oh, she's not allowed to date," Kelso chuckled.

Eric sighed. "Leia wasn't, either. Until Jay came along."

It had been the wrong thing to say. Kelso was grinning like a cat who'd eaten the canary.

"Yeah. Yeah, we Kelsos have that effect on women," he grinned proudly. His eyes widened comically. "Including your wife and daughter. BURN!"

Eric rolled his eyes. "God I... love this topic. So much."

Kelso nodded smugly. "That's why I always bring it up."

The waitress arrived with the whiskey Donna'd ordered for him, and Eric grabbed for it desperately. "Alright, give me that."

"I think it's perfect that our kids ended up together," Kelso continued. "It'll be the burn that keeps on burnin'."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Eric interrupted him. He felt the alcohol already. "No one said anything about 'ending up' together. This is a phase, alright? I'm not spending my Christmases with you."

Kelso looked wounded. "Why not, man? I do an awesome bottle rocket show every year." He grinned and held up his left hand. "Almost lost my thumb last year."

"That's... why."

Kelso had turned serious - well, as serious as he ever got, anyway. "Jay really likes her, man."

"Well of course he does. What's not to like?" Eric shrugged dismissively.

"I think we should give them a chance."

Eric was thrown by the usually goofy, immature man's tone. "A chance?" he sputtered. "A chance to do what? Get in her pants?"

"No, man. To fall in love." The words were soft and sincerely said, and they took Eric by surprise. He was quiet for a minute, actually considering Kelso's words. But then he started to laugh.

"They're 16, Kelso." Eric took another sip of his drink and shook his head, as if to reassure himself. "What are the chances?"

Kelso shrugged. "I mean - look at you and Donna." He grinned. "And me and Jackie."

Eric raised his eyebrow. "How many times have you guys been divorced again?" Kelso flashed a 2 on his fingers, and Eric frowned. "Yeah, I'm not sure that qualifies as a happily ever after..."

"Oh, we're happily ever after in bed, Eric, and that's all that matters."

"Aaaand it's time for the check." Eric glanced around hastily. "Waiter?"

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Blob for the ask game

1: sexuality headcanon - I used to think of Blob as the only straight guy in Mystique's Brotherhood, but Blob/Unus shippers have won me over. That dude is bi, for sure!

2: otp - Blob/Unus. I can't believe they are both alive on Krakoa and we haven't even seen them talking in the background! C'mon!

I've also seen Blob/Phantazia shipping, and while I really prefer Blob/Unus, I would be okay with that relationship, too.

3: brotp - I'm not sure who Blob's best buddies are, outside of Unus, who is more of an OTP for me. I'd like to imagine that he hangs out a lot with Toad, Pyro and Avalanche, just for the shared experience of being in the Brotherhood together. Pyro and Avalanche are obviously closer to each other, but Pyro was frequently paired off with Blob, and the two of them spent as much time being mean girls guys together as they did fighting with each other. Plus, it's canon that Blob relaxes the rules/sneaks drinks for Avalanche, even though he's officially been banned from the Green Lagoon for unknown reasons. Also, I'd like to think that Blob and Anole are buddies since they run the Green Lagoon together.

4: notp - I actually didn't like Blob/Psylocke. I don't mind the pairing in theory, but I didn't like how Williams handled it, and all the weird issues with Betsy in someone else's body. I didn't really like Blob getting a complete personality overhaul in that story, although in fairness it was an AU. Being a loud, angry jerk has always been part of Blob's personality, and you can make him more sympathetic and nuanced without writing him to be a completely different person. Bartender Blob on Krakoa seems to be a kinder, more thoughtful Blob who still feels like himself.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head - as Krakoa's main bartender, Blob hears ALL the secrets, and knows ALL the gossip. Pyro is always eager to tell him some new rumor, and Blob always knows already. He keeps the most important personal secrets people tell him under his belt, but he will absolutely spread the juicier gossip.

6: favorite line from this character -

Funny line - when Blob starts a fight with Avalanche because Avalanche made him drop his sandwich. It doesn't even feel like a "fat" joke, more of a "The Brotherhood guys are always ready to throw down at any excuse" joke. Also, I'd be mad about a dropped sandwich, too.

Serious line - any scene when he is desperately trying to save the dying Unus. They really gave these two guys a tragic romance friendship, then forgot for decades that Blob could be a sympathetic character.

7: one way in which I relate to this character

I can certainly sympathize with how his appearance has led to him being treated badly, much like Toad. He's not a mutant that can really "pass," and even people who don't realize he is a mutant will still judge him for being fat. I think his abrasive personality is partially due to him having to deal with that constantly.

I can also relate to wanting to be a Krakoan bartender. Stay out of the drama, just serve drinks and be chill.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

Also like Toad, writers really like to make him as gross as possible sometimes (because fat = ugly, and ugly = evil, right?). Like that horrible Ultimate version of Blob who was a cannibal. But especially that one Daredevil issue where both Blob and Pyro are being extremely gross about a young mutant girl (who looks to be about 12), who they are there to capture. Blob keeps commenting on her looks and insisting that he wants to "have her," because Pyro usually "gets all the girls" (no evidence of that in ANY of the actual X-Men comics), and then tries to force a female bartender to kiss him. I consider that one of my "Nope, that didn't happen" comics stories. It's a shame, because the rest of the issue was funny, and would have worked outside of all the grossness towards women.

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Bartender Blob is a cinnamon roll with a 70's mustache and a colorful shirt.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth (4x14) | Memento Mori

They are referred to as alien-human hybrids. While scientifically correct, they don’t consider the title to be phenomenologically accurate. They are bound in this corporeal form, but possess no superhuman capabilities or powers to signify alien origin. 

Down to the most minute cell, they are Kurt Crawford. They are the little boy who held his mother’s hand as they were taken from the El Rico Air Force Base in 1973. They are the innovation of men who weren’t satisfied with God’s plan and decided to make their own.

His existence is similar to  a violinist who can play the second movement of Tchaichovsky’s Violin Concerto without missing a note, but who failed to imbue emotion into the song — the audience can recognize the tune, hum along to the melody, but they know deep down that there’s something not quite right.

Perhaps it’s because they were not of woman borne. There was never a mother to nurture them, only the replicas of other missing people. They never experienced what it was like to grow up or figure out their place in the world — they knew their mission the moment electricity lit up their synapses. 

At least Dr. Frankenstein could see his creation was a crime against nature; even Mary Shelley couldn’t conjure the horror of a monster masquerading as a man. Perhaps the fact that the alien-human hybrids looked like the Syndicate’s loved ones is their punishment for defying the laws of science.

Regardless, the Crawfords’ pragmatism began to fade alongside the health of all the women who suffered just so they could exist. He knew some of the other series didn’t feel the same. The others thought this intervention in evolution was the key to a better world without considering who they would be making it better for.

Why bother with the betterment of humanity if there were no humans left?

John Locke always said that humans enter the world with a tabula rasa, that a person’s environment nurtures who they are to become. Jean-Jacques Rousseau contended that humans enter the world with a predestined morality, that people are innately good without interference.

But what about them? What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?

But then again, it would be an insult to claim innocence in the grand scheme. The Gregor Series may have been evil when they cloned the DNA of defenseless children, but the Crawford Series was still using the genetic material harvested from the same project they sought to destroy. The ova from the MUFON women were an integral part in piecing together the genetic puzzle of who they were, but it didn’t make it any easier whenever they saw the women begin to deteriorate.

The list was getting longer by the day;  Edna Cooper, Lottie Holloway, Betsy Hagopian, Penny Northern, soon to be —

“Scully.”

Kurt bowed his head and tried to pretend that their voices didn’t echo around the tiny apartment. For all the bravado Agent Scully was feigning, Agent Mulder matched her with unconcealed fear. This was one of the facets of humanity that made him feel alien. She was dying, and they were fighting. Earlier she had even said she was “fine” while blood poured out of her nose.

He saw death every day. Maybe not first hand, but every file referenced, every lead followed, and every medical chart the Crawfords looked at was laden with it. It seemed to him that wherever death tread, grief and despair were close behind. The losses of the MUFON group didn’t merely extend to the women who died, but the families left behind. 

All of the Kurt Crawfords believed that was uniquely human: the desire to live one’s life in the company of others, to bond with others and care for each other. They wanted to believe their desires to protect the MUFON women was evidence that their existence meant something more. They wanted to exist outside the confines of what the Syndicate had planned for them.

But the Agents standing in front of him whispering with trembling breaths went against all he’d learned about human relationships. There were no hugs of reassurance or words of comfort, yet their gazes held an intimate yearning for each other that reached a depth Kurt couldn’t fathom.

Even as the woman rushed out of the apartment, sparing a sideways glance in the hallway mirror to check for dried blood, Agent Mulder’s eyes never left her. The moment the door shut, the man’s entire body seemed to deflate, his head bowing down as his shoulders curved inward. Agent Mulder raised his hand to his mouth and rubbed the short hairs growing across his skin.

Agent Mulder looked like he might vomit or start crying at a moment's notice, and it struck Kurt that maybe what he was witnessing was one of the most important elements of being human he hadn’t experienced yet. 

Love.

Kurt couldn’t help but think it looked painful, but maybe that was the laws of equivalent exchange at work. He supposed someone could only feel such intense despair and profound loss because they’d known joy and contentment.

“How soon-“ Agent Mulder started, pausing to take a measured breath. “Do you know how long ago Penny found out about her cancer?”

“Within the past year,” Kurt replied, hoping the Agent would accept this answer so that he wouldn’t have to admit it had only been a couple of months.

The answer was grim nonetheless and they both knew it. Kurt could see Mulder tying to could every grain in the proverbial hourglass Scully had left, and he knew it would be a matter of time before he was crushed under the weight of the spent sand.

“Did Betsy have any files on Scully at her place?”

Kurt knew she didn’t, not really, but he could tell Mulder needed to feel like there was something he could do to help her. So Kurt did the most human thing of all.

“I think she did.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

[deathsbestgirl]

memento mori

i’m ready to be torn to shreds

okay but !!! i’m weak every time scully has a little monologue. the way she speaks just cuts right through me. the words, the rhythm of her speech. yes thank you gillian (+ writers)

the words she’s saying for mulder. speaking to him over anyone else in her life. monumental. they know what they have even if it isn’t voiced or shown traditionally between them.

(i am SO curious — did viewers have any idea that this is what was coming? scully having cancer?)

mulder making his way through the hospital with flowers. making a joke, like he always does. her smile. she loves him so much. but his worry is palpable and he can’t wait for her to tell him so he asks. the way he looks at her !!!!

she’s so GENTLE when she tells him. at the same time though, she’s telling him there’s no hope. eventually, however much time there is, she will die. he refuses to accept that — because there can’t possibly be a life without scully. they’re too entwined, their connection consuming. and she knows this. she know what losing her will do to him…

so they already know who has gotten treatment? like the next scene they’re in skinner’s office. was this part of a past case idr?? when she met all the mufon women?

scully just has no idea what she means to skinner. they’re not close, but he’s someone they want to trust even though he’s a thorn in their sides more often than not. because that’s his job lol but he’s always there when they need him.

she doesn’t want it to be ~awkward. she doesn’t want his concern or pity, or to take leave (as he rightfully expects her to take) — she just wants the go ahead to investigate the source of her cancer. like this woman. these agents. they’re crazy and he can’t tell them no. i LOVE skinner.

and then they learn betsy hagopian is already gone. her fear.

god when they’re chasing kurt crawford and scully’s nose starts bleeding. mulder can’t hide his concern, can’t even let her finish in the bathroom before checking on her 🥺

she’s so BOTHERED when he isn’t in cuffs anymore lmao

this scene makes it so clear that scully really is afraid to believe. she can’t believe she was abducted by aliens or the government and experimented on, resulting in her cancer & probable eventual death. it goes “against” everything she believes in — in her country, her faith. and it’s a terrifying thing even without that.

mulder is so gentle when he tries to encourage her confront it, and she doesn’t seem to want to but she listens & visits penny northern. and i think it’s just so precious the way she listens to him despite how much she doesn’t want to believe & how scared she is, even though she’s trying not to be.

“…i think that we both know that right now the truth is in me and that’s where i need to pursue it…”

he want to stay on the path he’s on to help her, but scully asks for him and he doesn’t hesitate for a second 🥹🥺🥺

scully knew mulder would come & do as she asked, without question, without any doubt. this arc is so painful but it’s my favorite for the leaps & bounds their relationship takes — even if they don’t explicitly voice anything. for mulder, you see it with his gestures & his worry/concern for her. with scully, you see it in the way she’s so vulnerable with him.

maggie scully’s reaction is soul crushing. her fear, her terror is almost unbearable. she can’t lose another child. and she doesn’t want to be protected.

scully writing to mulder — her thoughts & feelings — is so intense. she’s trying so hard to allay his guilt and bring him peace. like. this is the most heart wrenching thing and so fucking heartfelt. i love when we get to see into scully’s mind because it’s always overflowing with love & so many emotions that we only get to ~see rarely.

gods her nightmare. was that a memory? and then penny northern was there for her again. even the way she shows vulnerability with penny is just. incredible. scully still can’t face it though. she doesn’t want to remember or make sense of it, and penny is so gentle with her too. the compassion is just. overflowing

OH GOD. mulder going to skinner.

“i’m pretty damn sure sure she’s never undergone treatment for fertility.” especially not at a federal facility…

he wants a meeting with csm so he can save scully — skinner won’t let him put himself in that position because csm ~deals in lies~ (I LOVE SKINNER WITH MY WHOLE HEART)

and finally FINALLY mulder brings in the gunmen. i love this little family so much.

and god. skinner knows he’ll find csm in THEIR office. how fucking dare he be there?? skinner is so willing to put himself on the line for them, knowing a lot more about what he’s setting himself up for. but he does it because he loves scully (& mulder) and he believes they’re worth it. like literally my heart could explode. i feel like this is the moment you truly know skinner is on their side. he’s done a few things in the past (not letting mulder abandon the x files, wetwired) but this is next level, so far beyond anything.

he has this whole operation going to find out what’s going on with the fertility clinic & scully is writing to him — calling it “his own path” when it’s all for scully. like my dear sweet scully, your paths are the same. they can’t be separated anymore.

and he finds more kurt crawfords. he knows exactly what they are now. (team they were made from scully because they’re so soft and i like this guy.)

the way they’re trying to cure the cancer that’s afflicted all these women. and he finds scully’s ova, they bring mulder right to them. learning scully’s barren. that the abducted women are their mothers. they want to save their mothers 😭

sincerely, the lengths these men go to for scully is so far beyond the realm of possibility and they are INCREDIBLE.

close call with that psycho shooter and mulder SPRINTS to scully’s room, he doesn’t find her but he finds the notebook she’s been writing in. the PAIN.

when byers leads him to scully, the RELIEF in his eyes. penny northern instilling hope in scully again. it’s so good. scully has the softest heart & incredible strength. mulder sat outside the room waiting for scully, giving her that time with penny. then telling her about reading what she wrote and she’s so sad he read it. because she has more to do, she’s not giving up. he has so much faith in her, that she will find the answers & save herself. scully still thinks she’s going to die, but she also believes she can live with the cancer. it’s the ~treatment that can kill a person faster.

she has too much left to do. for all those other women, for the x files, for mulder. for HERSELF. i can’t explain how happy it makes me that she puts herself on the list & that’s what’s most important. the LIGHT in mulder’s eyes when she says it.

mulder calling skinner to tell him he’s right about csm, that there’s another way — and skinner is sitting there with him and says “there’s always another way” and that fucking bastard “if you’re willing to pay the price. mulder was but scully is fighting & that’s all he needed to know. but skinner. he’ll still pay the price in case it’s necessary. again — love this man with my whole heart