Don't Mess With The Mothership

Watch Us Write

badforthefish — Thu, 07 Apr 2016 13:14:18 GMT

memories_child posted a link to this Teen Vogue Article on Twitter, "How One Girl Learned About Sex From Harry Potter Fan Fiction"

I had a little flag waving rant about it:

This may not be why I write, but I am proud our fanfiction communities help educate young people on sexual behaviours, help them develop a positive, empowering sexuality free of taboo. Men have porn, women have fanfiction and through this medium has emerged an incredible support system. Women helping women. Women educating women. Fanfiction counteracts the female objectification and humiliation found in male-oriented porn. Fanfiction creates safe spaces for minorities and marginalized groups. It gives them representation. It gives them a voice.

Fanfiction is our fucking shout that: THIS IS HOW WE LIKE SEX. THIS IS HOW WE LOVE.

Words have power. They’re our weapons against sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, bi-phobia, misogyny, bigotry and plain old ignorance.

This is our quiet revolution.

Watch us write.

The Good Wife - Kalinda & The Florricks

badforthefish — Fri, 25 Mar 2016 15:28:47 GMT

Peter & Grace.

Submission for The Good Wife Fandom Fest.

I always wanted to explore the relationship between Kalinda and the various members of the Florrick family.
Here are two “missing scenes”.
One with Peter, on how Kalinda ended up working for the State's Attorney's office and what happened between her and Peter.
And one with Grace, taking place after Kalinda found her in the church with Jimmy Patrick in 3X10 - Parenting Made Easy.

Alicia & Zach will be added later.

The Good Wife - Sun

badforthefish — Wed, 16 Mar 2016 15:35:21 GMT

After writing Huis Clos, I didn't feel like I had addressed everything I wanted. It felt more like an introduction into my exploration of Kalicia. I wanted to try my hand at writing a Kalinda POV, I wanted to write a back story for her. I could have written a different story, but I liked what I had started to build between these two.
The title of course is a reference to Kalinda's name, which means "Sun" in Hindi.

The Good Wife - Terminus

badforthefish — Tue, 15 Mar 2016 17:03:15 GMT

Written for The Good Wife Fandom Fest

I wanted to write a sweet Kalicia story for the Fest and this is what came out. The subject matter - Alzheimer - is by no mean a cheerful one, but it's not as sad as you might think it is, even if my beta says it has a lot of pathos.

The Good Wife - Huis Clos

badforthefish — Wed, 09 Mar 2016 15:47:38 GMT

The Sequel to "Graveyard Shifts", where I dig deeper into the Kalicia relationship. I absolutely loved writing this story. I was partly inspired by the episode of Masters of Sex - "Fight", where the characters spend the day in a hotel room and where sex is used as a way to peel away all the layers of unsaid things between them. Okay, I also wanted these two to have great sex, eh. I am currently finishing a sequel to that sequel, where I begin to tackle Kalinda's back story -- well, my headcanon of it, at any rate. I really should have made this a WIP, but I have a terrible track record with finishing those.

I also wanted to say that I am blessed with two terrific betas for this story and the others: schwarmerei1 and orangeandlemons who are also brilliant writers in their own right. If you haven't read their stories, you should.

The Good Wife - Graveyard Shifts

badforthefish — Wed, 09 Mar 2016 15:26:31 GMT

My second TGW fic and first attempt at femslash and Kalicia. I could not let their story end with 6X22, but were they going to 'talk' to me?
I thought I had Alicia pretty much figured out, but Kalinda was trickier because she communicates mostly with her eyes, and says very little. I followed schwarmerei1's advice which had been given to her by threeguesses: write the dialogue, cut in half what Kalinda says and then cut it again. Since I work in layers, starting with a skeleton frame, I quickly realised that all I had to do was the opposite: leave Kalinda's lines as they were without adding to it and concentrate on her body language instead.

The Good Wife - Heliotropes

badforthefish — Wed, 09 Mar 2016 15:07:07 GMT

My first TGW fanfic.
I wasn't feeling quite ready to tackle Kalicia, so instead I wrote an Alicia X Cary story, where both characters deal with Kalinda's departure. Just for the record, I don't ship this pairing. I started to write them, they decided to behave badly and I let them. *grins*

JE SUIS CHARLIE

badforthefish — Thu, 08 Jan 2015 18:34:20 GMT

The last time I burst into tears over news was when I heard the sound of the bodies hitting the ground on 9/11. But the attack on Charlie Hebdo feels so much more personal. Because they're my people, and because I grew up reading their irreverent cartoons. Every Wednesday I used to read Cabu's comic Strip in my dad's "Canard Enchainé". I bought several of his books over the years - the man was such a sharp observer of the human nature. I used to sneak into the adult section of the library to read Wolinski's stuff. Their irreverence and good natured blasphemy shaped my belief system, nurtured in me a strong secular rebellious streak. Charlie Hebdo poked fun at everybody: the Pope, Allah, the Dalai Lama, Catholics, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, they had no boundaries - everybody was fair game. Their cartoons were often outrageous, sometimes extremely rude but also at times very insightful and sharp satires of the ludicrousness of our society. Did I think the magazine crossed the boundaries of good taste? Yes, I often did. But I considered them a relic of the fuck-you attitude of May 68 - and for that I loved them - in the same way you love that scruffy old uncle who makes inappropriate comments at family gatherings. People often talk about freedom of speech, Charlie Hebdo used it for all it was worth.

And they died for it. Because some islamic fascist fucktards thought it would please Allah, who - if I believed in such things - would probably spit in their face.

I only found out about the shooting this morning and cried in my car all the way to work.

The Fall WIP: In This Valley of Dying Stars

badforthefish — Mon, 22 Dec 2014 18:48:05 GMT

I will not spoil things for you my over-the-pond friends, since you have to wait mid January for Netflix to air S2 of The Fall.
Let's just say you have two strong, independent, highly qualified female characters: Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson played by Gillian Anderson and the pathologist Professor Reed Smith played by Archie Panjabi.
And let's just say the show set some things in motion between the two of them and then pretty much dropped the ball.
Ergo fanfiction.

Love Your Suit

badforthefish — Sat, 08 Nov 2014 13:16:11 GMT

The Fall is back next Thusday! Woohoo!

Click on the pic to go to my Tumblr for the full article (I thought I might as well start using the damn thing. It's been gathering dust since I created it).

I do miss our Scully, but Stella turned out to be a very interesting character as well.

Radio Times got lazy and used a Net a Porter photoshoot from last July. Can't blame them, it's a great shot. Wanted to get my hand on that Isa Arfen top but it would cost me £245. I think I'll wait for the sales.

Oooh Boy.

badforthefish — Sat, 01 Nov 2014 01:12:44 GMT

Sorry for those of you who also have the X-Files com on their F-list. You will see this post twice, but I HAD to have this pic on lmy own LJ as well.
She looks so badass, I can't wait for season 2.
And she's wearing a suit. Sniff...
I've almost gotten used to her hair colour now. Almost. Still like her better with shorter hair though.

Theef

badforthefish — Sat, 25 Oct 2014 18:13:07 GMT

ETA: forget what I said below. This is not a harmless fic aggregating site as I initially thought . The web owner has apparently been posting more than fanfic, including locked entries, art, and other personal posts from other people. They are also making money out of our stuff because they have advertising on their site.

THIS IS NOT ON.

Please spread around.

~

Ayup Duckies,

This comment made it to my inbox but not to the comment page of "The Festival" entry where its author had initially tried to post it. Out of fandom solidarity I'm spreading the word. Honestly, though, I don't quite understand why people have got their knickers in such a twist over a fic aggregating site. I knew about it before this warning and thought it was a pretty good idea. Free publicity and all that.

Maybe it's because I've often had my stuff archived here and there without my consent over the years and never minded, or maybe it's because I consider that we, fanfic writers ARE thieves of other people's characters in the first place. Therefore I feel I don't really have much of a leg to stand on to howl about copyright violation and intellectual property.

Anyway, fellow fic writers, it's your choice. Here's the info:

Hello, I wanted to let you know that your LJ is one that is being stolen from by the person running fanfic-journal dot com. It’s how I found my way to you and this particular entry.

Despite multiple people telling them they have no right under CCL or Fair Use or Intellectual Property laws to steal our posts, they refuse to stop. Right now, as me and others dig for the proper way to shut them down, we can only warn people they've stolen from and let you know that you can complain, and they seem to be removing entries.

The thing that is dazzlingly clear is, they aren’t going to stop because they have said that their disbelief in our rights means they have every right to scrape our journals until told to stop by the individual. Most people I have spoken to were completely unaware that this was happening and that someone is generating money off their property. That’s where me and others come in. We’re trying to spread the word as far and wide as we can and it’s working, but more the better, so if you’re willing, by all means, please share this information. You can find more info on my LJ here: http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/226783.html if you want.

If you wish to complain you can go here: http://www.donotlink.com/framed?564015

Be clear if you do choose to make a complaint. Request they delete all your entries and never copy any more from you and any communities you maintain.

If I can help in anyway, don’t hesitate to contact me via my LJ.

If I’ve already commented on another of your stolen posts, or you already know, my apologies, I don’t mean to be a bother, I just want to be sure no one else is victimized further by this thief.

Best wishes, and sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

The Festival

badforthefish — Thu, 23 Oct 2014 06:27:50 GMT

Rating: PG.

Genre: it's Halloween in 8 days what do you expect?

Timeline: a certain number of years after IWTB.
Initially done for xf_is_love 2014.
Author's notes at the end.

~~~
“Fecund America! To-day,
Thou art all over set in births and joys!”

Walt Whitman - A Carol of Harvest for 1867 -

“Daaaaaddddyyyyy!” The little girl ran up to Mulder's legs, chubby fingers clutching at his trousers.

“Hey, One. What's up?” he said, closing the front door and picking up his daughter. She slapped both hands on his cheeks with adoration. Her hands were sticky. They always were. He suspected jam this time. He blew a raspberry on her warm neck. Her squeal was so high-pitched, he wondered if they had any crystal in the house.

Probably not.

Two rounded the corner with a bunch of crayons in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other.

“Look, Daddy. I drew a lizard.”

Mulder set One down and knelt to admire his other daughter's work. “It's lovely, Peanut, but didn't you say last night you were going to try drawing a princess?”

Two stared at him with all the gravitas a four-year-old can muster while wearing a pink Hello Kitty sweater. “The lizard ate her.”

Mulder nodded. “These things happen.”

“I drew a lizard too,” One pointed out, “but mine's yellow.”

“Where is it?” Mulder asked, standing up.

“Mommy put it on the fridge with maggots.”

“Don't you mean magnets? Or has your mother been bringing work home with her again?” He loosened his tie, walking into the kitchen. He could indeed see a piece of paper stuck to the side of the fridge with a yellow blob drawn on it. Next to it was the family calendar. Tomorrow's date was circled in red with the words “Harvest Festival” scribbled over it. Scully's handwriting.

Not for the first time today, he felt like there was something –

No, there was nothing.

In the living room, he could hear the twins arguing over the yellow crayon. He went back in and settled the dispute by breaking it in half.

“Oooh, Mommy is going to kill you,” One said. Her sister nodded.

Mulder smiled. “She tried that once. It didn't work. Where is your mom, by the way?”

“Upstairs,” Two said, staring up at him with her impossibly blue eyes.

He pointed a finger at them. “Stop fighting over those crayons.”

From the sideways glares the two little girls exchanged, he knew there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of that happening. Maybe they should have gotten an extra box.

He found Scully in their bedroom. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by stacks of papers. She had her glasses on.

“Hey, whatcha doin’, partner?” he drawled. A poor man’s John Wayne.

He still liked to think of her as his partner even if these days their partnership had a definite parenting slant to it. They hadn't worked together for many years – though he couldn't remember exactly how long. Somewhere along the line, they'd gotten married. They'd moved to the suburbs. He'd taken a desk job as a behavioural analyst. She'd gone to work at the local hospital. He tried to remember something about her job and failed. That was odd. He and Steve from accounting had been discussing their respective spouses' professions not two days ago, he remembered that much. So why couldn't he –

It didn't matter. Everything was fine.

She looked up at him, frowning. “Mulder, why don’t we have any photo albums?”

He joined her on the bed, making it bounce. He stroked her hair, bringing her face towards him to kiss her temple. “Don’t be silly, of course we have photo albums.”

She pulled away, pinning him with that stubborn stare he often saw his daughters using. “Are you sure?”

“What brought this on?” he asked.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A memory. My mother's home. She had a ridiculous amount of silver picture frames on the mantelpiece. There was one where my father stood on a jetty in full Navy uniform, holding me up in his arms. I must have been the girls' age. I remember my mother holding the camera.” She smiled. “I can still feel the sea spray on my face.”

Mulder reached out for her hand. Her eyes bore into his.

“We have two daughters, Mulder. We should have picture frames and photo albums. So where are they?”

“They’re – ” This was ridiculous. They did have photo albums. He knew they did. And they were always kept in –

Something fell apart inside him, a hitherto solid floor suddenly giving way.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted, running a hand down his neck. He could use a haircut.

“You don’t remember because there is nothing to remember. We don’t own any photo albums.”

“What family doesn’t have photo albums?” He shook his head.

“Ours, apparently.” She gathered up the piles of papers and put them back in the box beside her.

“But I remember taking pictures. Just last month, when we went to the beach, I took a shot of the girls holding up a starfish.”

Scully took her glasses off. “Yes, I remember that too. But you know what’s weird? I can’t remember how we got there.”

“We took the car.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. We drove there,” he insisted.

“What was the date? How long did the trip take?”

“Scully –”

“Do you even remember the name of the beach we went to?”

“Of course! We went to –”

Shit.

Scully opened her mouth to speak but was cut short by two pink bullets entering the bedroom in a flurry of noise and brandished artwork. She shot him a brief ‘we’re-not-done’ look, before opening her arms wide, catching Two mid-flight before her daughter’s rainbow-smeared hands made any contact with the bedspread.

“Picasso, Matisse, it’s time for your bath,” she told the little girls.

As usual, there were protests, pleas, bargaining and various attempts at side-tracking, but between the two of them they managed to get their offspring relatively clean and into bed within the hour. Under the harsh bathroom light, the dark circles under his wife’s eyes stood out. He volunteered for story-telling duty and she didn't argue, even though it wasn't his night.

***

He came downstairs and joined Scully in the kitchen. She was making sandwiches. He hoped they had grape jelly left. He dropped the Knuffle Bunny book he was still holding onto a nearby chair.

“Are they both asleep?” Scully asked, twisting the lid off the peanut butter jar.

“Yep. The natives are finally restful.”

She acknowledged this with a nod, spreading Jif on several slices of bread she'd laid out. “I am in awe of your sandman proficiencies.”

“Ambien in their milk works wonders.”

She smiled and sighed, “It would make bedtime so much easier.”

“It would,” he agreed.

“We’re terrible parents.” She grinned.

“The worst.” He grinned back.

He watched her cut the crusts off the sandwiches.

“This is a waste of perfectly good bread,” he pointed out, pulling up a chair to sit down.

Scully shrugged. “You go ahead, fight that battle with your daughters,” she replied.

He made a face at her. “My daughters are suffering from Yellow Crayon Shortage.”

Scully wiped her hands on a dish towel and went to pull open one of the kitchen drawer behind her. Half a dozen yellow crayons clattered on the table in front of him.

“Learning To Share 101,” she informed him.

Mulder winced. “I may have sabotaged your efforts.”

“I know. They told me not two seconds after you'd left the bathroom.”

He stretched his arms, crossing his hands behind his head. “Betrayed by my own flesh and blood,” he sighed.

“Trust no one,” she reminded him.

They smiled at each other.

There was something important they'd meant to discuss but he’d forgotten what it was. His eyes fell on the calendar again.

“What time do we have to leave tomorrow?” he asked her, nodding towards the fridge.

She followed his gaze. “Ten a.m. should give us plenty of time to get there.”

Something was scratching inside his head, the splinter of a thought he should not be having. He pulled on it.

“We went last year, didn’t we?”

There was something – something –

She stopped wrapping the sandwiches in aluminium foil just long enough to give him a puzzled look. “Of course we did. We go every year.”

“It’s a family tradition. We never miss the Harvest Festival.”

They stopped dead in their tracks and stared at one another. They had spoken those words at the exact same time.

“Mulder –” Scully began.

“What the hell was that?” he wondered out loud.

“We’ve been married too long,” she tried to joke, but her eyes held no mirth. It reassured him to know she was experiencing the same discomfort he was. It wasn't just his usual paranoia talking. Something was –

He ran a thumb over a smear of peanut butter on the table, licked his finger. “Maybe –” He held her gaze, choosing his words carefully. His mind was trying to swerve away and he pushed against it. “Tell me what happened last year. At the Festival.”

She tilted her head. “You know what happened. You were there with me.”

“Humor me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine, we went to the Festival and we –” Her eyes widened. She tried again. “We –” She shook her head, incredulous. “Mulder –”

The photo albums. They had no photo albums. That's the conversation she'd wanted to continue but it had slipped their minds somehow. Even now, he was finding it hard to hold on to the thought. The memory of that earlier discussion felt thin and crumpled like used tissue paper.

Something was wrong. Something about their life was wrong. His chair clattered to the ground as he stood up.

“Scully –”

He witnessed the same dangerous thoughts bloom behind her eyes, watched his own rising sense of panic reflected there. The world was spinning around him and she was the only mooring he could trust. He meant to go around the table, he needed to touch her.

He froze.

“Scully, your nose is bleeding.”

She brought her hand up, staring in disbelief at the red on her fingertips. She looked over at him.

“Mulder. So is yours.”

Everything went white.

***

“Welcome to the Harvest Festival,” said the man in the ticket booth. His strong jaw and thick-set features looked familiar. Maybe it was the same guy who'd been giving out tickets last year. Mulder wondered what kind of job he had during the rest of the year. Maybe he sold tickets at the swimming pool, or the ice rink.

Mulder paid for the tickets, let Scully take them, and the family went through the metal detector, or at least that's what he supposed it was. With big gatherings like this one, you could never be too careful. He spotted their neighbours, the Duncans, farther down the line. He made a note to talk to Douglas about his lawn-mower-at-8am-on-Sundays habit. One of their twin boys was perched on Doug's shoulders, a colorful rainbow lollipop halfway in his mouth.

Next to him, One and Two were fussing. He should have brought candy, even though Scully had lots of sensible doctory things to say about children and sugar intake. He knelt down to meet his daughters' eyes. “What's the matter?”

“I want to go home,” One said, sniffling.

“Yes, Daddy, let's go home,” Two agreed. “We don't like it here.”

“Go home? But you girls love the Harvest Festival,” Scully said, kneeling next to Mulder.

One shot Two a weird look. “Mommy, we've never been here before,” Two said slowly.

Mulder reached out to stroke his daughter's copper curls. “What are you talking about?” he said, smiling widely. “We go every year.”

“It's a family tradition,” Scully added, giving One a peck on the cheek.

The little girls said nothing more. One edged closer to her sister. Two took One by the hand and didn't let go. A pretty blonde Festival attendant in a pristine gray uniform and white gloves approached them and cooed at the twins. She collected the tickets from Scully and, taking hold of One's free hand, led the girls towards the children's main entrance.

Two turned her head to look back at Mulder with an uncertain, worried expression. He felt something stir inside him but it was so distant, he couldn't –

He raised his hand to wave at his daughters but the Festival attendant was already leading them through the gate. Soon they were lost in the crowd of children.

He felt Scully's fingers wrap themselves around his. He looked at her. Her face was ashen. She tried to speak, but no words came out. He did not understand what was going on, but pulled her in his arms all the same. Her body shook briefly against his before going very still.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mulder?”

Their own Festival attendant had arrived. Everything was going to be fine now.

“Her last name is Scully,” he said, rubbing his hand soothingly against her back. “She never took my name.”

The attendant, a short balding man with a plain face, consulted his list, then shrugged. “Please follow me.”

They did.

***

Mulder woke up with a start. Scully was lying on her side next to him, hands curled into loose fists under her chin. Indistinct noises were coming from the baby monitor.

He crawled out of bed, limbs heavy. His head was foggy and there was an unpleasantly tight pressure in his skull. He wasn't a young man any more. He padded wearily to the nursery. One of the twins was awake. Curious hazel eyes stared right up at him.

He lifted the little boy up from his crib, nestled him against his arm.

“Good morning, Three,” he said, ruffling the child's wispy brown hair. “Let's not wake Mommy just yet.”

Three gurgled a spit bubble in agreement.

He took his son to the window. Together, they watched the sun rise over the red tiled roofs.

The End.

A MOTHERSHIP OF THANKS: to chinapatterns, hankmoodyblues and wendelah1 for last minute emergency beta during which I was saved from the demons of bad punctuation, erratic grammar and foreign turn of phrases. You ladies are simply fabulous.

NOTES: I wanted to see if I could subvert the Mulder & Scully Happy Family White Picket Fence trope. I thought all those mind control experiments our dynamic duo investigated over the years must have played a major role in the colonization grand master plan. There would be no Resist or Serve if the cattle was not aware it was serving. Besides, Halloween is nigh, so a creepy story seemed in order. Yes, I know, I know, I ruined their happy ending and you all hate me now. Life is hard.

Emergency Beta Needed.

badforthefish — Wed, 15 Oct 2014 21:19:13 GMT

UH! My gift for X-F is love is due 5 days from now. I wrote a short story (1000 word or so). I may need a couple more days to polish up the ending, but like an idiot I haven't thought about the beta side of things. So if anybody has got time to take a quick look to check that I am not being let down by my Pidgin English, it would be great.

What is it about? Mulder & Scully, married with two adorable twins. They live in a nice house in the subburbs.

What? You smell a rat?

You know me too damn well. *evil grin*

Houston We Have XF Love Lift Off

badforthefish — Fri, 03 Oct 2014 20:33:23 GMT

Dearest F-List.

You may be just lurking, or busy with URGENT MUST BE DONE TOUT-DE-SUITE (yes this is how you spell it, philistines) Life Stuff. HOWEVER do not forget that you are or were at some point an X-Files fan. This defines and will keep defining you in many small wonderful ways. You will never be able to say "There's no time!" without adding a "Mulder" first. You will never look at a bottle of Iced Tea like average people do, or a bag of sunflower seeds. The words "beige trenchcoat" will always bring a fond smile to your lips. And if you have to buy swimming goggles in Tesco/Wallmart you will pick the Speedo brand, just because. You will always find that singing off key a song about a wine drinking amphibian is the most adorable thing on the planet. You will get warm fuzzies when watching new shows and recognizing actors or writers or producers who once were on the XF - the "family" is still out there, the universe is therefore balanced. okay, maybe that last one is just me...

Anywayyyy... all this to say that X-Files for many of us was, is and keeps being LOVE. And October is the month we celebrate just that. So take a few minutes to come and check out the great stuff this fandom still has to offer, or just have a chat and take a walk down S2 memory lane.

xf_is_love
The X-Files is Love Month - October 1-31

Fanfic Reading List - 2014/2015

badforthefish — Sun, 21 Sep 2014 00:05:21 GMT

This is a list of all the stories I intend to read this year. Because I never manage to keep track of anything and forget about what I *do* read. I hope this will allow me to be more organised when it comes to fanfiction. The stories I've read are in green.

Haven Rec

The Living Dead and Other Fable by Pipistrelle.

I'll be blunt (yes, I know when aren't I, right? Would you believe me if I told you I've mellowed a lot?) the tags on AO3 put me off. 'Aromantic Scully' 'Asexual Mulder' and a term I'd never heard before 'Queerplatonic' made me wonder what kind of teenage Emo trip I was about to read. As it turned out the writing is very decent, and there is even a great line from Mulder about an unusal bouquet. But the Scully characterization screamed Mary Sue at me, which ok, could have been because I was influenced by those damn tags. In any case I am not buying Scully's mindscape in this at all. Scully would not make such a big fuss over Mulder being romantic or not post Millenium, and she would definitely not discuss the issue in detail. These two do not vocalize their emotions much, or when they do it's much more subtle than that. A UST tag would have sufficed. Anybody who thinks of Mulder as 'asexual' must have been watching the show with a blindfold. DD oozes raw sexuality, so does Annderson and as a result there's enough sexual tension between Mulder and Scullly to power a small state. You can stretch characterizations to fit the story you wanna tell - up to a point.

(Oops, I just realised I read the last vignette in the series instead of the first one - not that it would change my opinion.)

XF is Love - October 2014

Ravenous by Audrey Roget
A lovely Hungry post ep. Great UST. Vivid descriptions.

Four ways William Scully got picked up from daycare by Naraht.
Good writing, enjoyable third POV story. A couple of nitpicks about character's descriptions but nothing major.

Nothing Wicked by Discordia
Excellent writing as usual. Discordia is my favourite new writer (because when I read her stuff my inner beta mostly shuts up and admires what she produces with envy). People who are familiar with Ray Bradbury's work will get an extra kick out of this.
Post Humbug. Mulder and Scully sit on a bench watching a funfair that has taken residence next to their motel.

The Darkness Within - Sept 2014.

Rec Origin: xf_book_club

How A Resurrection Really Feels by idella.
Brilliant story. Incredibly vivid. Gorgeous style. Love it.

Prisons of Innocents by JRFPatton

And if I make my bed in Sheol by threeguesses.
How could I forget such a wonderful story? I did read this, many years ago and left raving feedback on threegueses' LJ. This is beautifully written, both funny and heartbreaking. I really wish this author had written more for this fandom.

Telephones by cucumberspy.
I guess I was half awake when I read it, or that I read it too fast, because the main plot points totally went over my head. It's a great story, but I kind of missed the full impact of it. Doh.

Drive, He Said by Jennifer-Oksana.
I remembered this one as soon as I started reading it. Very, very dark but oh so damn brilliant - an emotional slingshot.

Blue Patches by Maybe Amanda.

To Carthage Then I Came by Annakovsky.

One and Only, First and Last by onpaperfirst.

Hollow Day by Kel.

Oyster by Jordan.

Certitude by Justin Glasser.

Night Giving Off Flames by JET.

The Sin Eater by Jane Mortimer.

Fugue by Rivkat.

Devoutly to be wished by Rivkat.

The Other Man by Jess Mabe.
Chilling idea, but IIRC didn't quite work for me.

Negative Utopia by Prufrock's love.

The 13th Sign by Prufrock's love.

Sokol by Khyber

The Wasteland by ?

Neither Here Nor There by Tesla.

Fata Morgana by Julie Fortune.
Great story. Julie Fortune is an excellent writer.

“Night Touch” by Sophia Jirafe.
Dark, dark and so very gut wrenchingly painful. I was very impressed by this, even if I don't buy clueless!Mulder. Not to this extent. He would know, wouldn't he?

“Unintended Consequences” by Sarah Segretti.

“Anyone with a Gun” by V. Salmone
Otherwise known as Sab & Punk. Fandom Classic. One of my favourite post Orison fic.

“for the weary” by threeguesses.

“White Noise” by Adrienne

Blue by Susan

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense by Naraht.

Resurgam by Ophelia.

Loss of Yesterday by Jintian.

Butterfly by Oracle.
A well written, peculiar story, with a really interesting premise but marred by too much touchy-feely-kissy Mulder and Scully, which I found OOC. Not a big fan of Scully having so little power either.

Falling Stars by Julie Fortune.
I know I've read this and it was good. What it's about though, I can't remember.

Of Ladies Most Deject and Wretched by Circe Invidiosa & Helen Quilley.

Living with the Dreaming Body by Punk Maneuverability.

Reflections as the Light Begins to Fade by Amilyn.

Five Things That Never Happened to Dana Scully by anythingbutgrey.

Anger by Jennifer Maurer & Leyla Harrison.

Crowning Glory by CiCi Lean.

triptych: but for the urge of this unrest by baroquechemistry

In Ed’s Bed by Nancy V.

“Keeping Melissa” by Oracle.

“Careful” by Oracle.

“Ante Bellum” by Athene.

Kevin by Justin Glasser

Anamorphosis by Megan Reilly.

Ghosts by Anjou

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar.

Rec Origin: Haven

Split The Lark by Syntax6

And Death Shall Have No Dominion by Jean Helms

Seeds of Synchronicity by Mountainphile

Error in Judgement by Tim Scott

The Conversation by Katwoman

The Darkness Before The Light by Patrice Farmer

Walls, Fists and White Bathrobes.

badforthefish — Mon, 28 Jul 2014 07:36:45 GMT

This last episode of Masters of Sex, S02E03 "The Fight" absolutely blew me away. This was no doubt the best character driven episode I've seen on television this decade. And boy, it was SO HAWT! There was one scene in particular, well -- let's just said Spontaneous Human Combustion is an understatement to describe that one. Wait, actually, there were two. Oh. My.

You know that feeling, when you're watching something so perfect, you get goosebumps and your stomach is doing little flips of "Oh my God I can't believe they just went there!" IT WAS LIKE THAT!

And the layers of characterizations, THE LAYERS!!! It was an absolutely outstanding study on what 'getting naked' really means.

Lizzy Caplan and ~~Martin~~ Michael Sheen deserves a truck load of Emmys and Oscars for this performance - a huis clos in a hotel room.

I could write pages and pages of review about this, sadly, Mulder, there's no time.

Why yes, Bill, I liked it very much. Thank you. *lights cigarette*

ETA: Time said the show hit a "narrative G-Spot" and it's exactly what it was.

MoS - Vid Rec.

badforthefish — Sat, 19 Jul 2014 23:06:19 GMT

Okay, last one and I'm done spamming yer LJs for today. And no, it's not like I'm trying to convert my F-List to this new telly crush of mine. I swear.

Oh and this vid has sexytiems in it, so be warned and avert your blushing eyes.

Paying Respect To Your Elders.

badforthefish — Sat, 19 Jul 2014 22:31:40 GMT

Masters of Sex is doing it right. Observe:

Sadly, Mulder and Scully never did a photoshoot like this one:

Oooh boy, now I want to write MoS fanfic. *sigh*

Fish Rant - Purity Control

badforthefish — Sat, 19 Jul 2014 19:51:51 GMT

Privacy no longer means a thing on the Internet. Whatever you do on the web can and is monitored, controlled, analyzed, categorized and easily referenced. Describing yourself as a 'private person' means shit if you're online. The platforms we use know exactly who we are, our likes, dislikes, where we travel, how long we stayed there, how many siblings we have, if we're on speaking terms with them, the state of our love life, our political and religious leanings, etc... and soon with those connected watches and eye-wear, Google, Apple & co will know our heart rate, sleep patterns and physical health as well.

But it's all in the name of progress, for the good of mankind, right?

Right.

I am old enough to remember the cold war, my parents were in their late teens during WW2 and my uncle was involved in atomic matters. As a kid I thought I would never make it to my 18th birtday because a nuclear war was going to kill us all. My dear brother kept telling me so, and I worshipped him. So, of course, I believed him. I was going to take refuge inside the well in the cellar, I had it all planned out.

Of course, the world didn't end, but I guess growing up this way meant I never took peace for granted the way people do in our part of the world. I studied French collaboration with Nazi Germany, 'normal' people settling scores with their neighbours, selling each other over minor feuds. Can you imagine WW2 with Twitter and Facebook? "I didn't know Mrs. Martin had so many nephews! The littlle darlings are real shy and won't get out of the house, though." (Pierre Laval likes this)

If the shit ever hits the fan again, it will be real easy for a modern Vichy government to get rid of the voices of dissent. Because they'll know exactly where to find us.

And yet, when Edward Snowden revealed the extent of government spying on all of us, the world barely shrugged. Our government's Big Brother ways were nowhere as scary as the lethargy of the public response. Google and Facebook are monitoring everything I type and the government has acess to all of it? Whatever.

They may have access but they can't control what we say or think just yet, although they are giving it their best shot, things still filter through. For example everybody knows these days that Monsanto and the FDA do not have the general public's health or best interests in mind, in spite of their million dollars advertising campaigns.The Internet made this possible.

The Internet, this big, unruly, chaotic machine that brings out the worst and the best in us. It also makes one hell of a case for freedom of speech. Like minded people can fight for Just Causes together, raise funds for charity together, it brings information and comfort to millions of souls all over the world. And the great thing is, no corporation or government has control over it. Yet.

It might change though.

In America, cable companies are in the process of hatching an Evil Plan (TM) to control the web. This is how it starts guys. Please inform yourself.

End of rant.

Masters of Pretzels

badforthefish — Sun, 13 Jul 2014 18:07:45 GMT

Season 2 of Masters of Sex, which, in my opinion, was hands down the best new show to grace our screens last year, starts tonight. If you have Firefox with the Adblock Plus addon, to get rid of all those pesky ads and pop ups, you can watch it on Solarmovie.tl Just google it.

Just watching the trailer gave me little butterflies I haven't experienced since S3 of the X-Files. That show is gorgeous, the fashion of that time period is gorgeous, Lizzy Caplan is fucking magnificent (and is nominated for an Emmy, because even those old coots can't ignore that much talent) Martin Sheen is a tad short but so intense. Beau Bridges and Alisson Janney are superb. Caitlin Fitzgerald looks like Grace Kelly. And all this wonderful cast plays wonderfully complex characters with great story arcs. If there is ONE show you should catch up with this year, it's this one. Forget it was given the worst show title in history of televison, and give a go to what is without a doubt the most feminist high profile show on screen.

Isn't this cover strangely familiar?
They're work partners too, you know... *grins*

Stuff You Should Watch: The 100

badforthefish — Thu, 03 Jul 2014 23:26:41 GMT

Months ago I watched the Pilot and promptly dismissed this show as the new Revolution, Terra Nova and similar sci-fi series, i.e. the ones full of improbably good looking and bland youth with the acting abilities of the mould behind my fridge - paper thin plots, soapy romance and really cheesy pseudo sci-fi attempts.

Then I read one too many praises on TV Com and thought I'd give it another go. I suffered through the Pilot again and the second episode and then, well, it got better, much, much better.

100 kids, who comitted various felonies on a giant space station that was built after a nuclear war destroyed life on Earth - are sent back down to find out if life is possible there.

The start of the show is like any other teen show on telly. There's the clever blonde kid, the rebel teen, the dark and tortured kid, the funny kid...etc. But then people start dying left right and centre, on the planet which is not as empty as they thought - on the space station, where people are running out of air and hard choices have to be made.

Man, that show gets dark and brutal real fast. This is more Hunger Games or BSG than Twilight, let me tell you. You think things are going to turn out for the best, because on these type of shows, that's how it goes except that here, the cavalry doesn't always arrive in time, when it arrives at all.

The 100 is a bit of a wolf in teen's clothing.

The characters are layered and well crafted, both adults and teens. People you hated at the start grow on you and the 'bad guys' have good reasons for acting the way they do.

Yes, there are teen love triangles because hey, this is the CW network after all, but the romantic shennanigans pretty much come second to the need to survive in a hostile environment.

There are a few familiar faces, the chap who played Gaeta on Battlestar Galactica - in more or less the same role. "Dr. Burke" from Grey's Anatomy runs the station. "sierra" from Dollhouse plays a "grounder" leader.

It's not perfect, far from it, some plot lines could do with not being there such as some of the teen romance stuff, but for what it is or trying to be, it's pretty good.

Yay! Rewatch!

badforthefish — Sat, 21 Jun 2014 07:57:34 GMT

xf_book_club
Mini-rewatch June 21-27

"Live Journal is not dead Scully, I will prove it to you."
"You can ply me with beer all you want, Mulder. I still need proof."

Scully in 155: Rewired.

badforthefish — Sun, 15 Jun 2014 19:16:36 GMT

I was rummaging around my stuff, and realised I never got round to posting this little thing I wrote for scully_fest on my own LJ. Better late than never, uh? You can also listen to it because the wonderful idella recorded an anthology of all the 'Scully in 155' written for this challenge.

This scene takes place after Wetwired, where Scully accused Mulder of having killed her sister.

~

REWIRED

The chill of the stone seeps through her gloved hand. She leaves it there. She deserves that cold. Her body should be the one still and decaying in that hole in the ground. She shouldn't be the warm one.

I miss you.

She doesn't say it out loud but the words fill her head. The emotion they carry take too much space within her chest. She breathes in deeply, painfully. Some visits are easier than others.

A warm hand closes on her shoulder.

She straightens up but does not turn around.

“I didn't mean what I said,” she tells him.

“I know. That's all right, Scully.”

No. None of this is all right. Her paranoid meltdown gave voice to the ugly things between them they never address. He didn't pull the trigger. Neither did she, and yet -

Her hand leaves the tombstone.

She catches his arm. “Let's go home, Mulder.”

~

Feathering My A03 Nest

badforthefish — Thu, 12 Jun 2014 16:24:51 GMT

Just to say that after years of saying I was going to do it, I've finally started uploading my fics on A03.

Thanks to namarie24 who IIRC gave me an invite back when the dinosaurs roamed the Earth.