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astra-galaxie · 7 months

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what are some of your LGBTQ headcanons for some of the CC characters?

My LGBTQ headcanons for CC characters? Sure, I’ve got some! I’ll also list some characters' canon facts since I support them, but let’s see what non-canon ones I can come up with!

And disclaimer! These are my current LGBTQ headcanons; there is a chance that they could change as my story progresses!

Sexuality-based LGBTQ Headcanons:

Main Characters

Heterosexual/Ally:

Samuel King

Eduardo Ramirez

Frank Knight

Elizabeth Ripley

Angela Douglas

Elliot Clayton

Arthur Wright

Issac Bontemps

Diane Parker

Gloria Hayes

Gabriel Herrera

Penelope Sage

Priya Desai

Felix Reed

Gay:

Nathan Pandit

Amir Devani

Orlando Ordelaffi

Ben Shepard

Lesbians:

Hannah Choi

Carmen Martinez

Michelle Zuria

Evie Holloway

Rose Zhao (She and her husband married for none-romantic reasons)

Bisexuals:

David Jones (Has a preference for women ((and hasn’t realized his attraction to men yet…))

Grace Delaney (She tried to get Jones to realize his sexuality in high school but couldn't get him to understand…)

Alex Turner

Andrea Marquez

Yann Toussaint

Jack Archer (With a preference for women, but unlike Jones, he recognizes his feelings toward men)

Lars Douglas (He likes to call himself and Jack bi-bros and bi-buddies)

Marina Romanova

Jonah Karam

Cathy Turner

Nebet

Jacob Arrow

Hugo Mercier

Pansexuals:

Amy Young

Roxie Sparks

Maddie O’Malley

Charlie Dupont

Deigo del Lobo

Martine Meunier

Janis Rivers

Jean-Philippe Delacroix

Gauthier Delacroix

Enzo Traoré

Léa Bonnet

Polyamory:

Zara Tien

Theo Moon

Kai Malano

Nadia Den Yamin

Demisexual:

Russell Crane

Ingrid Bjorn

Rupert Winchester

AroAce:

Dick Wells (This man called science his mistress once, and I have headcanoned him as AroAce ever since!)

Hope Newman

Acesexual:

Armand Dupont

Viola Pemberton

Questioning:

Rita Estevez: Thought she was straight but started having feelings towards a certain woman…

Luke Fernandez: He thought he was straight, but after everything with Fabien de la Mort, he started questioning

Carrie James: Unsure of her sexuality

Émile Bardot: Unsure of her sexuality

Other Characters

Olivia Hall: Lesbian

James Savage: Demisexual

Edward Dante: Pansexual

Karen Knight: Bisexual

Nigel Adakue: Gay

Asal Hawaa: Bisexual

Katherine Woolf: Lesbian

Jasper Everett: Gay

Mia Loukas: Bisexual

Arthur Darkwood: Gay

Geroge Mathison: Gay

Cody James: Pansexual

Gender-based LGBTQ Headcanons:

Nathan Pandit: Transgender (female to male)

Alex Turner: Demiboy

Hannah Choi: Demigirl

Jean-Philippe Delacroix: Genderqueer

(I don’t have many gender-based headcanons yet…)

That’s everything I could come up with! And like always, I am open to hearing about your opinions, headcanons and suggestions on this topic!

#criminal case #criminal case grimsborough #criminal case pacific bay #criminal case save the world #criminal case mysteries of the past #criminal case the conspiracy #criminal case travel in time #criminal case supernatural investigations #criminal case city of romance #headcanons #ask

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shieldofiron · 10 months

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Okay so now that I'm more awake and it's not 2 am I'm finally able to get my thoughts out. So could I get smut where it's Jason's birthday and he had to do this dinner with his parents and it's just all so exhausting, so when he gets home Eddie's expecting that he'll want soft sex. But Jason ends up having to fucking beg to get fucked stupid and Eddie has basically no choice but to give his good boy what he wants. Plus aftercare please and thank you.

Of course! Happy Birthday my friend! Warning for very light bdsm, and slightly mean Eddie (upon Jason's request of course), and mentions of Jason's parent's homophobia.

He totally knew it would be bad. But his mom was going on about how his dad wanted to see him, how they'd spent every one of his birthday's together since he was a tiny baby and... he'd caved. He knew after one step in the door that it was a problem. He should have just gone to Eddie's show, but he was glad Eddie didn't have to be subjected to it. 45 minutes of tense conversation where despite it all going so badly his dad had apparently thought it was a good time to ask if Jason would ever consider checking himself into a conversion camp for adults. His parents would pay, of course.

Of course, of course. He knew this was hard for them. They'd lived eighteen years with one Jason only for him to turn around and become "someone else." His therapist said if he wanted any kind of relationship with them, he had to set boundaries, not make more secrets. But that was easier said than done.

Still, he just about cried when he got home and saw rose petals outside the door of their dinky one room apartment. The landlords, a couple of "best friend" old ladies, had given them a deal when they'd turned up, but a deal didn't make the place any bigger. Still, there was no better sight right now than his postage stamp.

Eddie was already on the bed, his hair damp and curling from a shower, though he'd thrown on some unbuttoned jeans. He looked tired but elated, like he usually did after a show, and he sat up for Jason, his eyes eager.

"Hey," Eddie smiled, "Happy Birthday!"

Jason's smile warbled, and he buried his face in his hands.

"Oh fuck," Eddie was on Jason in an instant, closing the door behind him and folding him into a hug, "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing, sorry," He swiped at his eyes, "God, sorry. I'm just really happy to see you."

"Yeah?" Eddie rubbed his back in gentle circles, "I'm happy to see you too, Tiger. I've got some plans for you, if you're up to it."

Jason cuddles into Eddie's arms, nuzzling at Eddie's necklace with his nose, "Please tell me these plans involve tying me down and using me until I can't think."

Eddie's large hand trembles a little, "Are you sure? I thought you'd want... like something soft. I got wine."

"Wining and dining me ended about two years ago when Heather Holloway walked in on me choking on your dick, Eddie," Jason frowns.

"No," Eddie shook his head, tickling Jason's face with the end of his hair, "There's always time for romancing you, Tiger."

Jason just turned his chin so he could look up at him. Eddie really was pretty. Under all that hair and layers of black clothes... no, with them. Jason liked him with them. But... he was so beautiful.

"Eddie," Jason whispered, "Please."

Eddie's brown eyes got darker, deeper, more depthless, "You wanna be my good boy?"

"Please."

"You want me to use you, Tiger? Use this cute little body to make myself feel good?" Eddie's hand stroked up Jason's spine, featherlight.

Jason nodded mutely.

Eddie rubbed his thumb along Jason's chin, snaring him with those dark eyes and backing him towards the bed, "Say it, honey. Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me."

Jason swallowed, "Will you please use me, Eddie? W-wanna... I want..."

Eddie cocked his head to the side, "Tell me."

"Want you to fuck my ass hard," Jason felt a flush spread across his face and up to his ears, "G-grab me and j-just... push me around until you're satisfied."

Eddie's lids lowered, "Strip."

Jason's clothes should have disappeared but his hands were numb and shaky, and he felt like he was breathing too fast. That empty feeling swirled around his brain, cleaning it of every thought but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Everything else could go down the drain as far as Jason was concerned.

Jason hiccuped on a breath as Eddie guided him down to the bed with just a thumb on his chin and his palm urging Jason onto his stomach. Eddie's jeans brushed against Jason's thighs as he stroked gently over the swell of Jason's ass.

"I want-"

"I know," Eddie smacked him hard across one cheek, "I know how you want it."

Jason cried out, arching his back up, but Eddie resumed softly stroking him.

"P-Please, please, Eddie, please," Jason curled his hands into their blankets, "Please, I'll be a good boy, I promise I-"

Eddie bit into the meat of his cheek for one sizzling second, and then soothed it with the flat of his tongue, "Keep begging, Tiger. I love it."

"Please," Jason choked, "Use me, I wanna-"

Eddie grabbed Jason's shoulders and arched him back, grinding himself into Jason's ass and plastering Jason's back to his chest. Jason sputtered as he wrapped a cool calloused hand around Jason's cock.

"Aww why'd you stop?" Eddie's breath was hot in Jason's ear and he held fast in an iron band across Jason's chest, "Come on. Beg me."

"Please fuck me, Eddie. Anywhere you want... nhh," Jason trembled, "Please."

It wasn't even about Eddie stroking him, it was... his brain was foggy and helpless. He needed it more than he needed to breathe, more than he needed to cum or think.

Eddie sunk his teeth into Jason's shoulders, earning another jerky tremble.

"Okay, be a good boy and put your ass up again."

Jason melted with relief, "T-thank you... Eddie... please... I just please..."

Eddie guided him back to the bed, "Aww, listen to you. Can't even speak you need my cock so bad, Tiger."

Jason buried his face in the blankets, "That's what I've been saying."

"I know, awww, Tiger, does it hurt?"

Jason screamed into the blankets in frustration, "You know it does."

Eddie smacked him across the ass again, once, twice, and then soothed it with a rough grab, "Who's using who, baby?"

Jason's head was too blank and clean to think through that statement, and he was distracted by sensation of cool lube pouring over him. As usual it felt like way too much, sliding down his balls and making him jerk with surprise.

Eddie didn't have to work that hard to warm him up, but the bastard seemed intent on taking his time, making Jason work himself on his fingers while covering Jason's ass with bite marks.

Jason buried his face in the blanket, nearly sobbing with relief when Eddie finally slid inside and began to work him over relentlessly, slamming Jason's hips back roughly.

"That's it," Eddie gripped hard, digging his fingernails in, "Fuck, look at that. Wish you could see it baby. I'm sure you can feel it, though..."

He grabbed one of Jason's hands and shoved it beneath them, falling over Jason and mashing him into the mattress. He pressed their hands to Jason's stomach, digging his fingers into the trail of pubic hair there.

"Feel it?" Eddie groaned into Jason's ear, "Feel that, Tiger."

Jason shook, because it probably was just his imagination, but he did feel it. Inside, dragging against his prostate relentlessly, pressing all of his guts, up against his palm... he moaned, mouth full of dry blanket, trying with everything he had to hold on.

"You gonna come? You like this? Being pressed into the bed and pounded? I bet you do. Bet you wish it was always like this, ass up, ready for me any time I wanted, I could come home and just bury myself in you," Eddie growled the last word and Jason's eyes rolled back in his head, "My good boy. Good fucking boy."

"Eddie," The word was half muffled, hard to say with Jason's tongue feeling so loose, his thoughts untied and weightless.

"You can come, Jason," Eddie pressed a biting kiss into the side of Jason's neck, "As long as my dick is deep inside you, you can come."

Jason stiffened for a moment, and then his muscles released, all the tension from the evening unraveling as his hips worked in the tiny space he had and he spilled onto the bed.

Eddie didn't change his pace, but he did become rougher, his thrusts less measured and rhythmic. Jason was limp beneath him, breathing lightly through the over-stimulation. His whole body felt heavy, just open and free and fucked out. Eddie groaned low in his throat and buried his face in Jason's neck.

"Good... Fuck, Jason, you're so good to me, baby," Eddie kissed the tip of his ear, "Look at how good you take me, baby."

Jason gasped out as pleasure pulled up short in the pit of his stomach once more and he tightened down on Eddie again. Pleasure rippled out and back in and he came across the sheets with a breathy groan.

"Fuck," Eddie jerked against him and came with a few rough thrusts, before he stilled, his hand still clasped around Jason's hand and his hip.

Eddie just lay there a moment, his breath coming out in softer and softer puffs on the back of Jason's neck, and he squeezed Jason's hand tightly.

Jason could barely keep his eyes open as Eddie slid out and got a warm washcloth, cleaning off first Jason's back, and then his stomach. He rolled Jason gently to one side, and awkwardly pulled off the top blanket, tossing it towards the laundry basket. Luckily their apartment was so small, so Eddie didn't have to let go of their still clasped hands to do any of it.

"I didn't even give you your birthday kisses," Eddie pouted a little as he lay down and tugged Jason close.

Jason vaguely thought he might want to say sorry but it just came out as a weak whimper.

"My sweet boy," Eddie kissed Jason's cheek, "Fuck, you're amazing, you know that?"

Jason smiled at the praise, but that appeared to be all he was capable of at the moment.

"So sweet," Eddie kissed his nose, "So sexy. I love you, Tiger."

Jason burrowed into the next kisses, his mind gradually coming back online as Eddie cooed praise and kissed each rough bitemark and flushed bit of skin. He was only supposed to get nineteen kisses for his birthday, but Eddie blew right past that number as they curled up together on the bed.

Finally, when Jason had been as thoroughly kissed as he had been thoroughly fucked, Eddie finally pulled back, a serious look in his eye.

"Next time, I'm coming with you," He said, "No more holding back tears until you get home."

"But-"

Eddie shook his head, holding Jason tighter and folding their hands together once more. "Don't make me beg, Tiger. I can't stand to see you hurting. Let me be there, make sure they're on their best behavior."

Jason blinked up at this beautiful boy, with the dark eyes and the laughing smile, "Okay. I love you, Eddie."

"I love you, baby," Eddie kissed him softly, "Happy Birthday."

#munver #tigerfreak ficlet #tigerfreak #lemon #jason x eddie #eddie x jason #asks

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superblysubpar · 4 months

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Tis gross and cold and rainy today, hit me with some summertime magic? 🥺

Ask Me About My WIPs

It's like that here too! I'm sending all the summery vibes and also hot cocoa 💛

I just answered one about summertime magic here , but here is the teeniest sneak peek at part one of Eddie's story, June: You Need A Lipstick Stain On Your Whiskey Ice

(also you'll see, but the theater/arcade is actually gonna be called Newby's now and the waterpark in Steve's story is Holloway's - I just haven't got around to changing that)

📻Now Playing: No Sleep Till Brooklyn by Beastie Boys

“While you’re at the job working nine to five, The Beastie Boys at the Gard-”

Your finger slams the radio off, car plowing into a spot behind the old brick building and coming to an abrupt halt.

Coffee burns as it rushes over your tongue and down your throat, your fingers adjusting the hem of your skirt as you slip your keys into your bag and jog up the steps and inside the cool AC that’s already humming in overtime. Fuck, it was gonna be a day.

The dimly lit hallway of Newby’s is a labyrinth and no easy feat for a beginner. The lights are basically non-existent and your boss, Keith, unloads shipments there. The narrow space is already cramped, and with the foam cups spilling out, reels, chords for arcade games, it is a precise and intricate dance from the back door to the staff room. At this point, you can sway and skip your way around it with your eyes closed, but on a morning like today, you’re simply not inclined to care.

Your tennis shoe kicks at a box of popcorn buckets, knee smacking into something that you’re fairly certain is a butter shipment, due to the stains on the side of the cardboard, and a sharp and loud ‘mother-fucker’ leaves your lips.

His voice calls from down the hall, “You’re late.”

Unwilling to give an ounce of satisfaction to him, you roll your shoulders back and step into the staff room, the faint smell of burnt pizza from an unfortunate microwave incident last summer still lingers in the fabric of the threadbare carpet and cheap couch. You ignore the boy laying on said couch and open your locker.

Eddie pretends not to look at you, but his eyes roam up the back of your exposed legs, to the hem of your skirt and he swallows. Ignoring the way the slight rise of your work polo lifting and revealing a part of your midriff makes his stomach twist up. It’s when you slam your locker closed, curl a piece of loose hair around your ear and take a sip of coffee that he sees it and remembers.

He shakes his head and stands, walking out of the room, “Late night?”

Your body heats up but you just smile at his profile, “Jealous, Munson?”

Eddie’s in his usual outfit. The black polo for the first day of summer, the black, ripped at the knees jeans, dirty white sneakers. It’s only when he stops in the doorway, turning back around to face you, that you see his face fully for the first time since last summer and your fingers adjust on your coffee cup.

He seems taller, his jaw a little more angular, and you detect a slight scruff over it. His hands land on the frame, ringed fingers curling around the wood as he smirks, nodding at your shirt, “Nope. But you might want to cover that up.”

As he leaves with a whistle of a song that stirs something familiar in your brain, you spin and look in the mirror, whispering, “Shit.” The faintest little hickey blooms on your neck and is totally, one hundred percent, visible.

You were gonna kill Steve Harrington.

But that was a problem for a different day, because as the faint sounds of popcorn popping and the stereo begins to harmonize with arcade buzzes and whirs, you have to start your first day of your summer job.

Newby’s was the first of Hawkin’s newly renovated downtown, a town favorite and bustling place when the Indianna summer heat reached insane temperatures. Keith had already given you a spiel about how the new waterpark was going to affect business and you and Eddie needed to be on better behavior than normal - especially if you wanted the manager promotion.

Which you honestly weren’t sure what he was referring to in terms of “better behavior than normal”. There had only been one bucket of popcorn dumped on a head last summer, one Icee to the face, and only like, five, unofficial parties.

But despite hating your co-worker, you really did love the job. You enjoyed the cool temp of the building and the dim lighting to soothe many a summer hangover. Free snacks and plenty of downtime, with good hours that left you with ample free time most evenings. Now, with three summer’s under your belt, you were determined to become the manager, and were certain you’d do a better job than Munson.

Three summer’s of knowing the exact way the popcorn machine could be coaxed into a few more kernels without burning. The bump of your hip in a very precise spot to get the coins the pac man machine would eat, loose. The perfect time to refill salt shakers and napkin holders and run the Icee machine in the lull that came like clockwork before a rush.

But most importantly, you know how to make Eddie Munson tick, even with just a simple piece of bubblegum in your mouth. And sure, maybe it was immature to place the gum in your mouth as you rounded the corner and began the opening duties with him. Maybe it was childish, unprofessional, and not manager material to try to get him amped up already, but you missed seeing his ears turn red and that look flash across his brown eyes. Missed the way your stomach sort of swooped when he swallowed and your faces got close together when you started yelling at each other and-

The bright pink bubble pops loudly as you clean the second popcorn machine, Eddie sighs somewhere behind your shoulder. You relish in the grunt that follows when you snap it loudly across your teeth. Alternating between bubble and snap for the last five minutes.

Early morning light filters in through the small window that runs across the top of the blacked out doors, the movie theater and arcade dim with warm lighting and neon flashes that trick you into thinking it's cooler outside than it is.The trailer for the new action thriller coming in July harmonizes with the whir of a pinball machine, the clatter and cheer from a fake audience in the racing game home screen.

As you close the glass panel of the popcorn machine and hit start on a second batch, you turn with another bubble ready to pop. A pencil in his outstretched hand pokes it.

The sad pink glob deflates over the yellow wood and he smirks at your pout. You release the gum, letting it dangle off the pencil as you hiss, "You could have poked my fucking eye out, Munson."

"Damn," he whistles, motioning with the gummy pencil towards your lips, "Read my mind sweetheart, put this back in there and I'll try again."

Your spine prickles with a familiar heat as you place your hands on your hips. “What the hell is your problem?”

Eddie laughs, gesturing to his chest with the pencil, “My problem? Princess, you showed up late on our first fucking day with a hickey from Harrington and you’re already starting your get under Eddie’s skin on purpose shit with the gum…” He blinks at you, trailing off as you tilt your head to the side with narrowed eyes, “What?”

Your arms cross over your chest. “How’d you know it was from Steve?”

Eddie’s cheeks start to turn pale pink and he chucks the pencil in the garbage, gum and all and turns towards the registers, “I-I uh-”

The double doors swing open forcefully, making you both squint against the harsh light as several voices start yelling over each other.

“La, la, la, la, can’t hear you,” Dustin Henderson sings as he puts his hands over his ears, beelining towards the arcade.

Mike Wheeler is fast on his heel, shouting about something you can’t quite make out. Will Byers and Lucas Sinclair head towards the two of you with smiles that tell you they’re already up to no good and it’s only the first day of summer.

Eddie shakes his head, “No. I know what you’re about to ask, no.”

Lucas places his hands into a prayer in front of his chest, “Eddie, Mr. Munson, if I can just have a minute of your time to tell you our very reasonable request and walk you through an opportunity that you are for sure wanna hear about.”

“You’re not getting free Icee’s. You know what you did.” Eddie points towards the arcade without another word and the two boys’ shoulders fall, turning on their heels. He calls out after them, “And why aren’t you all working? Little old to spend your day in the arcade still, isn’t it boys?”

The four old teens flip him off and then convene around Dragon Slayer, groaning as they look at the screen then over at him. He salutes with two fingers and they all raise two hands, double flipping him off.

#taylor's asks 💋#wip game #sarah ☀#summertime magic au #eddie munson #eddie munson series #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic

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all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth · 2 months

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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

#all eyes lead to the truth #x files #fanfic #x files fanfic #kurt crawford #memento mori #4x14 #cancer arc #mulder #scully #msr

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gracehosborn · 3 months

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Can you please share more about what you mentioned about "My Dear Hamilton"? I am so interested in learning about American Revolution historical fiction you have read and what your tastes are!

Hi, Anon! I had another ask about My Dear Hamilton that I’m working on answering with great length, but the short of it is that I feel that Eliza wasn’t the main character of her own story that had wanted to be told, and I don’t like the characterizations of either Alexander or Eliza. From a writer’s perspective, the novel also has issues that I wasn’t a fan of in how the story was structured and told.

In terms of other novels that I have read set during or around the American Revolution, I have only thus far read Susan Holloway Scott’s I, Eliza Hamilton, and Jean M. Robert’s Blood In the Valley. I dislike both of these novels much more than My Dear Hamilton, for many of the same reasons as above.

Overall, outside of the AmRev space, I haven’t read a lot of historical fiction in a long time, and that’s mostly due to the fact that as I’ve gotten older I just simply haven’t had as much time or energy as I would like to read more. Some titles on my TBR that I want to knock off this year though are Bernard Cornwell’s Redcoat, David Liss’ The Whiskey Rebels, and Salina B. Baker’s The Line of Splendor. And there are of course others.

I am a huge fan of historical accuracy, and more specifically in this vein, utilizing the historical record to tell a good story in unique ways that bring out small little facts that otherwise would be forgotten about. Part of my issue with My Dear Hamilton and I, Eliza Hamilton, is that both novels deal with subjects that are well-documented, and yet on multiple occasions there was blatant contradiction to the historical record without much narrative reason for the changes. This is not to say that I dislike authors taking creative liberties—I have had to utilize them myself in writing TAI—but when you are writing about real people, you should take care in what you want to do with them.

#thanks anon #thanks for the ask!#amrev #alexander hamilton #elizabeth schuyler #historical fiction #the american revolution

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kwebtv · 4 months

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Character Actress

Jan Clayton (August 26, 1917 – August 28, 1983) Film, musical theater, and television actress. She starred in the popular 1950s TV series Lassie.

In May 1954, Clayton guest-starred in ABC's sitcom Where's Raymond?, starring Ray Bolger as a song-and-dance man, Raymond Wallace. She played Francine Tremont, an actress and wife of a banker.

In 1954, Clayton was one of the many guest stars in a television spectacular tribute to Rodgers and Hammerstein, The General Foods 25th Anniversary Show, which featured all the then-surviving stars (except Alfred Drake) of all the classic Broadway musicals that the team had written (1943–1954). Clayton and John Raitt, in full makeup and costume, performed "If I Loved You" (also known as the Bench Scene) from Carousel. It was the first opportunity for millions of viewers to see a scene from the musical, since none of the film versions of the Rodgers and Hammerstein stage musicals had yet been released. Clayton during this period also played herself in an appearance on Peter Lawford's short-lived NBC sitcom Dear Phoebe.

Clayton became known to TV audiences as the mother of Jeff Miller (Tommy Rettig) on the television series Lassie (a.k.a. Jeff's Collie in syndication reruns). Clayton played the first four seasons of Lassie, from September 1954 to December 1957, as Ellen Miller, a war widow living on her father-in-law's farm with her preteen son, Jeff, and her late husband's cantankerous old father, Gramps (played by the Canadian-born George Cleveland).

Clayton performed in the 1961 episode "The Prairie Story" on NBC's Wagon Train. The episode, written by Jean Holloway, examines how the harsh prairie causes havoc in the lives of some of the women on the wagon train. Robert Horton starred in this episode, which aired three months after the death of Ward Bond.

In the 1962 episode "St. Louis Woman" on NBC's The Tall Man, Clayton performed in the role of Janet Harper, a widow engaged to Tom Davis ( Canadian-born Russ Conway), a friend of Sheriff Pat Garrett (Barry Sullivan). While Tom is away from Lincoln, New Mexico, the setting of The Tall Man, on a cattle drive, Janet begins to show a romantic interest in Garrett. Roger Mobley appears in this episode as David Harper, Janet's young son.

In "The Man Who Wouldn't Die", a 1967 episode of the syndicated series Death Valley Days, Clayton was cast as the Margaret Wilbarger, the sister of Texas pioneer Josiah Wilbarger, who lived for 11 years after being scalped by the Comanche. Don Collier played Wilbarger, for whom Wilbarger County, Texas, is named, along with Wilbarger's brother.

Her other TV credits include:

Your Show Time

Your Jeweler’s Showcase

Racket Squad

Matinee Theatre

The Millionaire

The Deputy

Tales of Wells Fargo

The Danny Thomas Show

Gunsmoke

Never Too Young

My Three Sons

Daktari

Circle of Fear

Nakia

Archer

Medical Story

Police Story

The Streets of San Francisco

Time Express

Scruples

The Dukes of Hazzard

The Love Boat

Insight

#Character Actress #TV #Jan Clayton #Lassie

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