#gene reyes

[gurumog]

Dracula vs. Frankenstein (1970) aka Assignment: Terror Los Monstruos del Terror Castilla Films Dir. Hugo Fregonese and Tulio Demicheli (uncredited) and Eberhard Meichsner (uncredited, completed the film)

Craig Hill as Inspector Tobermann Ferdinando Murolo as The Monster of Frankenstein Gene Reyes as Tao-Tet, the Mummy

[leclercskiesahead]

Oh to be swathed in a mass of Spanish hugs

[onlylonelylatino]

Blue Beetle, Mary Marvel, Supergirl, Monkey Prince, Cyborg, Power Girl, Zatanna and Blue Devil by Bernard Chang

[pettyprocrastination]

wanting to write some horror/monster Simon Riley shit but I need to figure out what specific monster traits he will have...hmmmm

[theaskew]

Lyrics

I see your face in the perfect sand. And with a kiss, I know I'm losing my way. I get a feeling I just can't explain… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

She take the one and left the chump behind. She left her heart on Hollywood & Baker. You call her "Poppy" but it's just a name… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

La La La La La La La

She take the one and left the chump behind. She left her heart on Hollywood & Baker. You call her "Poppy" but it's not her name We did it all, but was it all in vain?

La La La La La La La

I see your face in the perfect sand. And with a kiss, I know I'm losing my way. I get a feeling I just can't explain… I'll be your candle in the pouring rain.

[harrysfolklore]

Hi!!! i just saw the pictures of Carlos x 2 content for his last driver w ferrari and since there’s already a lot on piastri sis bonding with reyes, can we have piastri sis bonding with Carlos sr too

🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i really wanted to take on this request! i love my little bitches so much 🥹

The early morning Maranello sun caught the Ferrari badges as you walked hand-in-hand with Carlos toward the garage. His grip was slightly tighter than usual, betraying the emotion he was trying to contain.

"Ready?" you squeezed his hand.

"No," he admitted quietly. "But yes."

Carlos Sr. was already there, talking with the mechanics, but his face lit up when he saw you both. "Mis hijos!" [my kids]

Charles was there too, leaning against the garage wall in his puffer jacket. He straightened when he saw Carlos, and there was a moment of shared understanding between the teammates - soon to be former teammates.

"Don't make it weird, Leclerc," Carlos tried to joke.

"Me? Never," but Charles's voice was suspiciously rough as he pulled Carlos into a hug. "Save the tears for later, no?”

"Who's crying? I'm not crying."

"Of course not," you rolled your eyes fondly.

While Charles dragged Carlos off to inspect the cars, Carlos Sr. pulled you aside.

"How is he really?"

You watched Carlos run his hands over the Ferrari's nose cone, Charles pointing out something that made them both laugh.

"Emotional. Trying not to show it."

"Like his father," Carlos Sr. smiled sadly.

"Exactly like his father."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You know, when he first told me about you, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you would understand us. The Sainz men - we feel everything so deeply, even when we pretend we don't."

"I noticed," you smiled. "The dramatic genes run strong."

"Hey!" but he was laughing. "We're not dramatic!"

"Carlos cried over a pizza last week."

"It was an emotional pizza!"

"See? Dramatic."

His expression softened. "You're good for him. For all of us. You understand this life, this passion."

"It's my life too."

"Si, it is. And..." he hesitated. "I want you to know, whatever comes next, whatever team, whatever challenges - you're our family. Mine and Reyes's daughter, not just Carlos' girlfriend."

Your throat tightened. "I- "

"No crying!" he warned, but pulled you closer. "We save tears for after, yes?"

"Charles said the same thing."

"Charles is smart boy. Sometimes."

Across the garage, Carlos and Charles were now arguing about something, gesturing wildly at the car while mechanics pretended not to laugh.

"Should we save them?" you asked.

"Let them have this moment," Carlos Sr. squeezed your shoulder. "Soon enough..."

You both watched as Carlos ran his hand along the Ferrari's sidepod, the gesture almost reverent.

"He'll be okay," you assured Carlos Sr.

"Of course he will. He has you."

"He has all of us."

"Si," Carlos Sr. nodded. "Always family first."

Charles's voice carried across the garage: "Carlos, stop being dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic!"

"You're stroking the car!"

"It's a goodbye caress!"

"See?" Carlos Sr. grinned. "Not dramatic at all."

You laughed, leaning into his embrace. "Not even a little bit."

Later, the garage had emptied, leaving just the two of you. Carlos was still in his race suit, pushed down to his waist, his Ferrari shirt underneath damp with emotion and exertion. He stood there, hand resting on the car's nose, lost in thought.

"Hey, little bitch," you said softly, coming up behind him.

He laughed wetly, not turning around. "Only you could make that sound loving."

"It's a gift."

When he finally faced you, his eyes were red but his smile was real. You reached up to wipe a smudge of tear track from his cheek.

"Last dance in red," you murmured.

"Was it good?"

"Perfect. You and your dad... that was something special."

He pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. You could feel him trembling slightly, letting go of the composure he'd held all day.

"I've got you," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "Let it out, baby.”

"I thought I was ready," his voice was muffled against your skin.

"You were. You are. Doesn't make it easier."

He lifted his head to look at you, and your heart ached at the naked emotion in his eyes. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably cry a lot more dramatically."

"I'm not dramatic!"

"Says the man who spent ten minutes saying goodbye to each tire."

"They needed proper farewells!"

You kissed him softly, feeling him melt into you. "My dramatic little bitch.”

"Your dramatic little bitch," he agreed against your lips. He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "God, I love you."

"I know."

"Even when you're mean to me."

"Especially then."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, pouring everything he couldn't say into it.

"Ready to go home?" you asked when you finally parted.

"One more minute," he turned to look at the car one last time, keeping you tucked against his side.

"Take all the time you need."

He pressed a kiss to your temple. "As long as you're here."

[confused-bi-queer]

¿Quién quiere rosca?

¡Feliz Día de los Reyes Magos! A Mexican Tradition with its Mexican fanfic

Hello, friends. I am once again back with my Mexican SnowBaz.

During December, I noticed I could draw and I realized I could make Mexican prompts, so that’s what I’m doing.

Today is January 6th, and here in Mexico, we celebrate something that's kind of the equivalent of Christmas morning for some people, but it depends on the region of the country. For example, most of us don’t believe in Santa Claus (only the north does, like Monterrey which is in the border with US, next to Texas; I don’t know about the rest), but we do believe in “the Three Kings” or “the Magi”, which are entirely from Catholic/Christian lore. Jesus was born during Christmas, so after 12 days, the Three Kings come to give him gifts, so we Mexicans get those gifts today. You’re allowed to ask for 3 gifts (one per king) and we give the letter through a ballon we throw into the sky on the night of January 5th. Kids (and myself as well) are receiving their presents today.

Alongside that tradition, we have something called “la rosca de reyes”, or king’s bread or king’s wreath. It’s an oval orange bread with ate (quince jelly), fig, cherry and sugary bread. We cut this bread with our family and, inside the bread there are a few figurines of baby Jesus (nowadays, people put more things into the rosca, like the Kings or tamales), so if you cut your piece and you get the “niño” (child, baby, kid, whatever), on February 2nd, el día de la Calendaria, you’re in charge of making the tamales. Allegedly. And yesterday I learned why there are babies Jesus in the rosca: it’s a reference of how they had to hide Jesus so he wouldn’t get killed by Herodes. Insane.

This is one of my favorite festivities because it entails so many little traditions and because it’s very Mexican. And I wanted SnowBaz to have this memory because it’s something sweet. I wanted them to enjoy my culture, and I like sharing it.

I wrote something for the art I’ve made, and you can find it here down here:

BAZ

There is nothing that could make being awakened by yelling and the bed jumping a good thing. My eyes are heavy as I try to get them to open, but thankfully there is no light outside.

It’s not even morning yet.

I turn to Simon and hide myself on his neck, searching for his warmth, and shaking him awake.

“Your son is up,” I mumble, closing my eyes, relishing in Simon’s soft body.

“My son?”

“Wake up!” Ángel yells, too loudly for any kind of ears.

“Those early-riser-genes aren’t mine,” I groan.

Ángel lays down on top of both of us, his arms around our heads, and we decide to get up. Much against our wishes.

Simon sits down, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and Ángel grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him awake.

“The Kings came!” he yells, his smile as bright as his dad’s.

I smile as I get off the bed, putting on my dark blue slippers. I grab the closest robe, and as I wrap it around me, I notice it’s Simon’s. I turn back to find him putting my football Watford hoodie over his head, his wings guarded into it.

“I’m going down alone if you don’t hurry!” Ángel yells again, and he grabs Simon’s tail. “Dad!”

“We’re up, we’re up,” Simon says, standing up, letting Ángel pull him out of our bedroom.

As soon as Ángel’s out the door, he rushes to the stairs but doesn’t go downstairs. He smiles at us, jumping in his place.

“Hurry!”

Simon and I walk faster, climbing down the stairs, full of 3 gigantic framed pictures of our wedding, and a smaller one of Ángel’s newborn face with six different expressions in it. I like the one where he’s looking to the side; Simon and I were being silly to make him laugh for the photos.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Ángel yells.

“Look, papá, it’s a sword! Like dad’s!” he screams, throwing himself to the floor.

He grabs the long, thin box with a plastic toy with the figure of a sword.

I turn to Simon, fake-smiling.

“The Magi brought our seven-year-old a sword,” I say through gritted teeth.

Simon smiles without taking his eyes off our kid, desacrating the box of the toy.

“Ángel asked for it,” he mumbles.

“Maybe Melchor should have asked Gaspar and Baltazar about it beforehand.”

Ángel jumps up and starts looking for scissors to get the sword off its container.

“Balthazar couldn’t have brought it to him,” Simon says. “He was too far away in the East.”

“Balthazar brought another gift. The kid has four.”

Simon looks at me then, eyes wide open in fear.

“What?”

It’s at that moment that Ángel notices it as well.

“The Magi brought me four gifts! That’s so cool!”

I force a smile as our kid looks up from his sitting position on the floor, a sword large enough to resemble Simon’s.

“Does this mean I’m getting four gifts every year?” he asks, eyes lit up with excitement.

Simon and I sit down slowly on the floor, next to Ángel.

“Maybe this year you behaved extra well,” Simon says. “We’ll see what they think next year, okay?”

“I’ll be super, extra, mega good!”

Simon kisses Ángel’s forehead.

“I’m sure you will.”

Maybe a kid with a plastic toy can make this day better.

SIMON

While Ángel’s showing Baz everything the Magi gave him this morning (I can hear everything from the kitchen since he's loud), I pull out the lid of the rosca for us three to be able to eat some for breakfast.

I’ll make some coffee for Baz and then I’ll give Ángel milk, and we’ll see who gets the baby. It’s not a rule for us to prepare tamales, but we do have some on February 2nd.

“Alright,” I call out. “¿Quién quiere rosca?”

[papaver-decervicatus]

Headcanons- Sobieslaw "Gromsko" Kościuszko

Is not-so-secretly displeased that no one can pronounce his name. He is absolutely a Polish Culture fanatic and is incredibly patriotic. It bothers him that people either can’t or aren’t willing to learn how to say his name. 

For this reason, a quick way to get in his good books is to practice his name and get it right to him. If a pretty girl does it, he’s not-so-subtly hearing wedding bells. 

Lowkey misogynist, very traditional

Wants a wife and kids. No kids are a deal breaker for him. 

Wants a wife who will clean and cook for him when he can fix stuff around the house and earn income with the military

Grew up with 4 siblings, two brothers, and two sisters, they all have the most Polish names imaginable. 

Desperately wants at least three kids.

Generally very outgoing and boisterous. Is commonly told that he’s “too loud”

His response is to smile and laugh even louder than previously. 

The exception to this is when he’s embarrassed, which is incredibly infrequent. He will get quiet and turn red if he does anything particularly stupid

He bought a copy of Silence of the Lambs thinking it was a field cooking guide. He gets genuinely flustered when people bring it up

Reads a lot in his off time, and learned English from reading almost exclusively 

As such he mispronounces words in ways that people that learned from English speakers typically don’t, like pronouncing “chassis” like “chass-iss” not “chass-ee”

If anyone brings it up he blue screens for a second and argues back that that makes no sense and why can’t it be phonetic? 

He inadvertently started a book club with Reyes, Nova, and a few other SpecGru operators by asking around for books to practice with. 

Sleeps naked or in very tight boxers much to his bunk mates' chagrin. 

He has the unique habit of sleeping on his arm and holding his pillow to his chest and between his legs when he’s asleep. 

It’s because his right knee is damaged from a particularly rough infill landing, having his knees together when he sleeps is really painful

Everyone assumes it’s something to do with humping his pillow because he’s just. Got no shame like that, but it isn’t actually. 

Has no insecurities appearance-wise. He is how he is and people can like that or not, he doesn’t give a shit. 

Cocky? confident? Self-assured? 

all of the above and then some. 

Magic touch when it comes to being a medic. He has stabilized people who damn well should have bled out and died on the field. 

He should be a bad medic because he’s so loud and aggressive on the field

And yet, he’s nearly always right on target and right where he needs to be to help someone out. 

His whole demeanor changes from patient to patient. 

Otherworldly sense of what people need emotionally when they’re hurt.

Need someone to empathize with you? He’s already telling you how much your family back home needs you to pull through. 

Need to get your mind off the pain? He’s telling you knock-knock jokes that don’t really make sense in between stories of his childhood misadventures. 

Need someone to kick you into gear? He’s spitting in your face about how you can’t just give up now and die like a fucking dog. 

Need some peace and quiet? He’s holding your hand and stroking your wrist with his thumb, only providing pulses of pressure to keep you in the moment. 

Absolutely capable of gentleness and caring, but just does so very infrequently. 

He is kind, not nice. 

He will help out anyone with anything without being asked to, but he’s gonna make fun of them the whole time. (Playful banter, he means no harm by it)

Much more likely to be “nice” to a woman or a child than a man. 

Handles his liquor poorly at the moment, will get black-out drunk without batting an eye, and yet somehow never gets hungover. 

The others are convinced he takes medical supplies for homemade hangover cures, he doesn’t but he lets them think that. 

Superior Polish genes, baby. His liver is the strongest thing about him. 

He does not necessarily need to be “the alpha male” in any given room or situation, but very much commands a certain kind of attention. 

This man occupies space. Wide stance, a loud voice, a louder laugh, and the personality of a wrecking ball. His ego is through the door before he is. 

Despite this, most of his coworkers don’t really find him all that jarring because he doesn’t demand subservience. He knows his station and does not need validation outside of it. 

He doesn’t care to be a leader, it’s not that he’s opposed, he just has a different skill set. 

He tends to wander on the battlefield, always hyper-vigilant to where he is needed most. 

His weapon of choice is a rocket launcher. 

AVADA KADABRA KURWA 

BOOM

He and Soap are on the top of the “UNDER NO FUCKING CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOWED TO USE A ROCKET LAUNCHER” list, followed closely (and inexplicably) by Farah?

Read about that story here!

Despite being in a profession centered around fixing people/caring for wounds, has a natural tendency towards destruction. 

Soldiers' vocabulary all the way. Every 5th word is a swear, and that’s on a “clean” day.

[the-126-family]

It’s Wednesday!! Hope you’re having a good day! This ask is a bit easier 😉 Do you have any personal headcanons for the 126? Can literally be anything!

Happy Wednesday and Happy New Year as well!! Did you do anything exciting today?

Today I'm feeling very emotional about the 126 family and how much they all love each other and have grown to be such a family. So this is very cheesy, but I'm going to say that they will ALWAYS stay this close, no matter what life brings them, and will always be a big part of each other's lives. I'm also feeling so full of love knowing that Jonah will grow up being a part of this huge, crazy, loving family.

Jonah looks at Paul, Marjan, Mateo, Nancy, Judd, Grace, and Tommy as his aunts and uncles. Tommy's girls often babysit Jonah so that Carlos and TK can go out on a date. Jonah and Charlie become really good friends and they often stay over at each other's houses. Whenever Jonah is in something like a school play everyone from the 126 is in the audience, cheering loudly for him. Jonah loves playing with all his cousins (Carlos's nieces and nephews), and Carlos brings him to the Reyes Ranch when he's a little older to teach him how to ride a horse. Owen adores Jonah and constantly spoils him. He calls Owen "Pop Pop" because Owen refuses to be called "Grandpa," claiming it makes him feel way too old.

At some point, Jonah will definitely let Lou II out of his cage. Carlos will have a heart attack. It is inevitable. Jonah will carry on the Strand gene of loving animals, so Carlos will always have to stop him from bringing bugs and critters he finds into the house. (It can get hard when TK sees whatever Jonah has found, and also wants to bring it in the house because "It's so sad and lonely out here, Carlos! It will be so happy in our house."

Another random headcanon I love (which I think I've said before, so apologies if you are sick of this) is that Paul has two cats named Sherlock and Watson. This is very important to me. I feel like Asha has a cat as well, so when she and Paul eventually move in together they will have three cats in total.

[joelsprettyprincess]

i haven't been able to play rdr1 the past couple days (fuck you calculus) but i played today! spoilers ig

the savagery of coronel allende and all his bootlickers is actually insane. even john is disgusted 😭

but then, he just ignores it bc he just wants javier and bill above everything else. like there was this one mission where he helps the army destroy a rebel base and they capture the women, and make it NO SECRET what they're gonna do to them. i was so horrified and i really thought john was gonna help the women but he didn't...like i understand he has a mission but still 😭😭

also de santa is gay...right? it was a little funny when he was telling john he'd never take a wife- like yeah, we know why, you kiss MEN. 💀

well, he was gay. i put him six feet under. 😋

and can we please talk about abraham reyes....FREE LUISA. that poor girl. she has such a pure heart but abraham is literally manipulating her

when john rescued him and mentioned luisa, and reyes said "who?" my heart broke.

and he is just so weird. i was already sus after he didn't know who luisa was, then he was like "when i rule over mexico.." and talking down on the peasants... like shut up.

AND THEN JOHN WALKED IN ON HIM FUCKING SOME WOMAN 💀

he's more similar to de santa and even allende a little bit than you'd think. he was srsly talking about "breeding" and "spreading his genes" across mexico....alright bro.

anyway, i FINALLY captured javier and turned him in. but how did the US agents get their car here so fast? 😭 so now we must hunt bill, and i assume we'll kill allende too. i actually finished my calc work within a reasonable time so im gonna play soon 😋

[leclercskiesahead]

Staring at his back

[overwatchloresnstuff]

Moira lore

Next deep lore dive examines quite possibly the most evil, and most misunderstood, character in the Overwatch universe.

Our beloved mad scientist, the Irish auntie, the sardonic sequencer, Moira O’Deorain!

“We are bedevilled by the mysteries of creation. Science can reveal the truths that lie behind these many questions. What we learn can unlock the true potential of humanity.” - Moira

Moira has always had a desire to understand man’s place in the evolutionary cycle. As a talented doctor of genetics, evolution, and cellular sciences, she caused waves in the scientific community from a relatively early time in her career. The world was experiencing a scientific golden age with the creation of God programs, Omnium’s and the fast advancement of AI, and Moira was swept up in that firestorm.

Her most controversial paper detailed the editing of human DNA via custom genetic programs. By implanting genes of her own making, she could force the body to adapt, to evolve, to overcome. While many people praised her work for its implication in curing disease, Moira had her eyes on much loftier goals.

Unfortunately for her, the ethics of her paper were called into question…especially when no other geneticists were able to reproduce her results. Combined with Moira’s marked disregard for the care of the rabbits and other animals she experimented on, her career became tarnished. What should have ushered humanity into an era free of cancers and genetic disorders devolved into accusations of shoddy scientific work and ethical violations that saw Moira stripped of her PhD and dismissed from the University of Dublin. Overwatch was one of many condemning her work, which only threw fuel on the fire.

Unemployable and without funding to continue her work, Moira fell into a dark depression. While she didn’t give a fig for her colleagues or the loss of a title, it was preventing her from doing any work. The biggest consensus by far was that she was too close to the ideals that had brought about the Omnic Crisis, and sometimes advancements without acknowledging the costs were too dangerous to be trusted.

Her name became poison in the mouths of every scientist on the planet.

Moira received a lifeline from none other than Gabriel Reyes. While Overwatch had slammed Moira’s work, Gabriel saw the potential. He had been on the receiving end of similar gene treatments through the soldier enhancement program, and courted the suspicious O’Deorain with promises of technology beyond her wildest dreams. She relished the idea of being able to rub her accomplishments into the faces of everyone who slandered her.

Unlike other Blackwatch acquisitions like Genji and Cassidy, who were recruited on a semi-public basis, Moira was kept secret. If Blackwatch was Overwatch’s dirty little secret, Moira was Blackwatch’s.

Moira was distrusted by the entirety of Blackwatch. Genji and Cassidy point blank refused her treatments and enhancements, disturbed and frightened by her promises of power. Moira’s command over genetics was accelerating wildly, and Reyes gave himself over willingly to her experiments. In return she granted him the power of…a strange immortality. Gabriel Reyes’ cells would decay and renew at a rate never before seen, allowing him to dissolve into smoke and reform at will.

She was their chief field medic and geneticist, and her funding, projects, and involvement didn’t become public until Blackwatch’s exposure following the assassination of a key Talon member in Venice. When Angela Ziegler discovered just who had been treating Blackwatch agents during their missions, she was furious. She publicly ousted O’Deorain with the idea of humiliating her yet again.

This time, Moira was approached by Oasis University and offered the position of Minister of Genetics. She continued her work, but under strict observation. She resented the chains of ethics, and when presented with the opportunity to resume her work under Talon…she leapt at the opportunity. Finally, with no babysitters, no laws, no threat of Overwatch discovery or interference…Moira crafted her masterpieces.

Her first step was to prove her worth to Doomfist. She enhanced and brainwashed Amelie Lacroix into Widowmaker, a deadly sniper with no feelings that Talon could use as a weapon. Doomfist was overjoyed with the results, and lavished funding and unfettered access to whatever Moira desired.

It was little surprise that when both Morrison and Reyes were caught in the destruction of Overwatch HQ, Moira appeared in the ashes. She found Reyes barely alive, dying, his body struggling to rebuild broken bones and shattered organs. She injected him with an enhanced version of her earlier formula. Gabriel Reyes became Reaper…a man forever doomed to live and die at once. Every nerve cell screamed in agony, plunging Reaper into a tortured existence of feeling his body decay and rebuild all at once. She presented Talon with their new pit dog, and was rewarded a seat on the Inner Council at Doomfist’s right hand.

Currently, Moira is in possession of her newest acquisition…a bright scientist abandoned by Overwatch in the chaos of the Horizon Lunar Colony, stolen from a government facility by Talon: Siebren de Kuiper.

Moira is both fascinated and repulsed by Subject Sigma; while she acknowledges his contributions to gravity research, she expresses frustration with his shattered state of mind which seem to be barring her and Talon from gaining complete control.

Moira’s experiments on herself have changed her into a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Her twisting of Angela Ziegler’s healing abilities into decay have turned her right arm into a withered husk. This doesn’t seem to bother her, and the shortened nails on her left hand seem to hint that she is left handed anyway.

Moira is treated with revulsion by many Overwatch agents, with the exception of Cassidy. While he enjoys amusedly poking at her, he doesn’t seem to have the genuine hatred for her that Mercy, Genji, Hanzo, Sombra or the others possess. Doomfist treats her professionally and coolly, and Sigma seems to see her as another colleague. Moira has only offered an olive branch to Lifeweaver, and has an interaction implying he should join her at Oasis. Lifeweaver, perhaps knowing her reputation, refuses.

While Moira is a controversial and brilliant figure, labeled evil by some and misunderstood by others, it’s clear she possesses a unique set of powers. She is an incredibly dangerous, intelligent, and beautiful woman in her own way.

Perhaps one day, she will try and turn her talents toward curing rather than modification.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[welcometololaland]

DEARLY BELOVEDS once again I have no new Tarlos content for you (only RWRB, maybe if enough people are keen I can post some of that on Wednesday or something). So, I must regretfully force you to accept this additional snippet of ALTA (this one is from chapter 2). I will also post a moodboard below of ALTA chapter 2 for your appraisal and (hopefully) general confusion. Please provide feedback.

“How did you get here?” Carlos asks, tugging his keys from the pocket of his jeans with his free hand. It’s a bit of a struggle, his left hand isn’t his dominant one, and these jeans are very tight. He isn’t sure why he chose to wear this particular pair, but it maybe wasn’t the most practical option.

“Gene dropped me off,” TK says. “God, Carlos, why are you running?”

“This is walking with purpose, TK,” Carlos retorts, a smile itching at the corners of his mouth. “You should try it sometime.”

“I’ve lived in New York City for the better part of the last six years,” TK points out. “I know what walking with purpose looks like and this isn’t it.”

“Maybe it’s because your legs are short.”

“My legs are one inch shorter than yours!”

Carlos throws caution to the wind and laughs, finding a soft pout on TK’s flushed face as they step in front of the Camaro. “Here,” he says, pushing the paper bag into TK’s hand as he opens the car door for him. “You’re in charge of the precious cargo.”

“You know, I almost can’t believe this is your car,” TK quips as Carlos shuts his door and slides into the driver’s seat. “What happened to that absolute bomb you had in college?”

“Upgraded,” Carlos replies breezily, throwing the car into reverse and then manoeuvring them through the parking lot and onto the main road. “I had to save for ages on a government salary, though.”

“It’s nice,” TK says, cradling the paper bag and leaning back against the leather seat in Carlos’ peripherals. “You deserve nice things.”

BEHOLD ALTA CH 2 MOODBOARD TO CONFUSE YOU (SORRY I'VE HAD VERY LITTLE SLEEP)

TAGS UNDER THE CUT!

Thanks to the following treasured mutuals for the inspiration and seven sentence sunday tags, i love and adore each of you with my whole corporeal being. All of your posts are in my queue!!!!!! @jesuisici33 @reyesstrand @cha-melodius @freneticfloetry @iboatedhere @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @walkinginland @strandnreyes @three-drink-amy @louis-ii-reyes-strand @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @indomitable-love @theghostofashton and if I forgot anyone I'm truly so sorry!

I am SO SO SO SO LATE so this is an open tag - PLEASE tag me if you participate so I can appreciate with my eyeballs!!! I'll also leave a tag for a few people I haven't seen but would love to see if they have anything available, or a tag that can be stored for a later time if preferred :) @lightningboltreader @tailoredshirt @chaotictarlos @marjansmarwani @chicgeekgirl89 @nontoxic-writes @noxsoulmate @lilythesilly @rosedavid @apothecarose @wtfuckevenknows @sunshinestrand @basilsunrise @statueinthestone @inexplicablymine @redshirt2 @cinnaluminum @athousandrooms @ladytessa74 @wandering-night19 @goodways

[fran-kubelik]

Mitzi Gaynor, the effervescent dancer and actor who starred as Nellie Forbush in the 1958 film of “South Pacific” and appeared in other musicals with Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly, has died. She was 93. Gaynor, among the last survivors of the so-called golden age of the Hollywood musical, died of natural causes in Los Angeles on Thursday morning, her long-time managers Rene Reyes and Shane Rosamonda confirmed in a statement to The Associated Press. “As we celebrate her legacy, we offer our thanks to her friends and fans and the countless audiences she entertained throughout her long life,” Reyes and Rosamonda said in a joint statement. “Your love, support and appreciation meant so very much to her and was a sustaining gift in her life.”

[randomfoggytiger]

I’m happy to hear you love to chat and I’m sorry I’m on anon… what do you think Mulder, Scully and their family are up to now? What’s life and love for them in the year 2024? I personally hope they are happy, healthy and still have tons of sex 🔥

No worries, anon! Unidentifiable asks are just as fun as identifiable ones. Plus, they give a nice little "ooh, I have a wider audience" kick. ;))

Per the Revival: you're probably right~.

I do wonder: would their daughter inadvertently shove them into more traditional settings, say, a mommy-daughter or daddy-daughter group, dance recitals, and local little leagues games while raising her eyebrow at their responses-- or lack of-- to the age old "why didn't you ever get married to mommy/daddy?" question? If so, Jackson would be a reflection of their more complicated, "outside the norm" past whereas Lily would come from a place of sweeter connection and greater appreciation for their second chance. In short, stability; a sense of normalcy. Or, perhaps, she'd be just fine with their "different"; and it's Mulder and Scully who-- like any parent-- would wonder if their unconventional job or numerous enemies or wandering son are a reflection of their abilities?

I don't believe Mulder or Scully could completely disattach from the files, not yet. It fulfills them, it grows them, it shares their history, it bonds them. Post S8? Yes, Post S9? Yes. Post IWTB? Yes. But each of those scenarios ended with an opportunity to do something else, more, different. The Revival ended with change and second chances but also reopened wounds that needed healing and last questions that needed resolution-- a way to end on their own terms, not have a finale thrust unexpectedly on them.

What would they do? Coursework, in my opinion. Light cases. Seminars. Training opportunities. Skinner would have a hand in that, would pointedly shrug on his cane if Mulder and Scully got stir crazy, would pointedly ask them how their daughter was over the weekend. Would delay a permission slip to pursue and solve paranormal cases until there was no other recourse. Would quietly look into who Mulder or Scully hired to watch their kid while they were gone.

Monica Reyes is buried, sorry.

DOGGETT. Doggett's no longer in contact because he sensed a shift in Monica before Mulder and Scully began their Revival shenanigans; and withdrew, jaded, from anything other than regular work. Explore that pain a little: he had to process the inability to save his son during S8 and S9 by accepting the paranormal and its reality; and still lost Mulder and Scully to the quest and Monica to "the darkness." Heavy.

Work in that psychic Charlie story line. Perhaps that's the case that brings Mulder and Scully back out of semi-retirement following the birth of their daughter. Work in the angle that he represents another sort of disconnection from his family or friends, a similar but different path than his sister walked. Meet his niece, ask hard questions about his nephew. Maybe William got some of his powers through those heavily implied psychic Scully genes from the original run. Maybe Lily does, instead; and Scully's case is a way to heal the fears Scully and Mulder face from her burgeoning psychic inclinations: she's not a Jackson 2.0, she's her own person. Etc. It'll help put to bed a few things for Scully, too.

What are Mulder and Scully doing now now? I think others would have a clearer perspective than I do or would; but here we go:

Mulder's looking into what he says are the cost of repairs but are really thinly veiled easy renovations he can tackle with his daughter. Scully is mid-nod before this dawns on her; and she swoops over his shoulder to exclaim "Painted granite countertops?" Lily's... what age, again? Old enough to know the difference between careful mess and wanton chaos; and, more importantly, when to sniff out an opportunity and make a break for it. While her parents are caught up in their discussion ("Not permanent paint, Scully, something washable"), she speeds around collecting string or yarn or anything thin and tie-able; and is halfway through her plan of pulling out a tooth via the old door-and-string trick before her parents sense the silence and bolt for her room. Scully explains why her tooth needs to stay in a few more years and Mulder promises her that the tooth fairy won't come if it's pulled too early. They call it early that night, read her a few books, and collapse on the couch, hearts still racing a little.