#anyway screaming into the void etc

[hinamie]

doodles

[unseeliefaerie]

Good omens season 2 spoilers!

I don't usually get meta out of my brain semi-coherently but I'm seeing a lot of people misunderstanding Aziraphale's intentions in those final 15 minutes and I'm here to swing for my boy

I think one thing people might be missing the undercurrent of is the offer to make Crowley an angel again

It's not just an ooh we'd be on the same side, the good guys, and we'd be allowed to be together, though of course that is some of it

Aziraphale thinks he's being offered the chance to grant Crowley, who he knows has been tortured and almost killed by Hell, who risks punishment to disobey Hell's orders when they ask him to be cruel, divine forgiveness

That's kind of a big deal when Falling is the worst thing that can happen to an angel, besides being erased from existence

It's a way to get Crowley out of a job he hates and the persistent threat of torture, give him the freedom to be kind, as Aziraphale really believes he is deep down, underneath the obligations of being a Demon, without worrying about being punished for it

Of course he would want that for Crowley, that's not out of character at all

Aziraphale doesn't even want to go back to Heaven until it's stated that he can take Crowley with him, that Crowley can be an angel again

Crowley can be safe, and free from the trauma/repercussions of Falling, and they can be together forever in a real partnership

Why wouldn't he see it as a perfect solution?

He genuinely doesn't understand why Crowley doesn't want that

He's been given a chance to give Crowley salvation and protection from harm, and it's so shocking and confusing and upsetting that Crowley doesn't want to be saved, such a sting of rejection that he'd choose remaining Fallen on Earth over being an angel again with Aziraphale in Heaven, that in his heartbreak he ends up agreeing to go without Crowley despite Crowley being the only reason he considered it in the first place

Here's where I want to point out that I don't think Aziraphale understands how the Fall actually did change Crowley quite a bit. From Aziraphale's point of view, Crowley as an Angel and Crowley as a Demon are the same person just with different jobs. He's not entirely wrong about that, and given how often he's seen Crowley do the 'right' thing he's got evidence to back it up

But I'm not sure he knows what Crowley was telling Gabriel, that his own memories from before the Fall are hard to access and he did in essence have to start from scratch and build up a whole new sense of self

And besides that, being cast out of Heaven is a horrific abandonment. You don't just get over something like that when they invite you back - and you don't just get over seeing firsthand that they almost destroyed the love of your life without remorse only to turn around and ask him to run the place now (or all the other cruelty you've seen committed on their orders.)

Crowley has learned that kindness is not inherent in Heaven and having once been an angel has nothing to do with what he believes is right, while Aziraphale is still idealistic about good and evil (tbh Aziraphale admitting that Heaven needs to change is already a huge step in the right direction, it just wasn't enough)

From Crowley's pov Aziraphale is choosing an unjust and abusive workplace over the life they already have together, and asking him to change because he's not good enough as he is, even though that's not how Aziraphale means it at all.

I'm sure the Metatron knew that Crowley wouldn't go for it for precisely those reasons, but I don't think he needed to do anything more than make the offer to cause a rift

Tl;dr I vehemently believe Aziraphale wasn't poisoned he's just a well-meaning moron and the true villain here is miscommunication

[sp4ceboo]

rant but im a bit scared im going to get attacked

[femmeleatherface]

fully convinced that the only reason the opening lawyer's office scene in big trouble in little china exists is to establish that the film is secretly part of the x files universe

[thatonefatgumsimp]

I NEED HELP (DND Stuff, might be a dumb question idk-)

So genuine question for DND side of tumblr, but- I've been thinking recently...

And are the things next to the dragonborn colors in the player handbook, like, types of damage that are less effective, their magical girl power, or both?

Cuz I never really thought about that before and I have absolutely no idea-

[tardis--dreams]

*through gritted teeth* I just gotta do it and get through it i just gotta do it and get through it i just gotta do it and get th *starts crying*

[girls-and-honey]

hey does anyone want to come over and knock me out cartoon style with a frying pan or perhaps an anvil so I can get some sleep

[malusrecord]

((I'm really fuckin sad that I feel that I'm not able to engage with a fando/m that I truly love and adore with all my heart---or that my engagement isn't wanted within said space, to be a bit more precise, close friends know more concrete details and I won't go into it in full here---and how it's such a strongly cemented impression (and some bad experiences have not helped, nor has the size of the fa/ndom which makes things even more limited, complicated, etc) and my main blog has been suffering as a result. I hate it.))

[amaraudermind]

The heart of punk culture has been made trendy and commercialized as upcycling and punk fashion has become leather accessories and harnesses and $80 jeans that have been aesthetically ripped just so and an expensive trend

Upcycling actively encourages you to buy things you don't need that someone else DOES to make something #cute and young punk culture is about excluding those who don't adhere to the style and

What the fuck. This fucking sucks.

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard

*COD medieval au - Simon Riley x reader

cw: arranged marriage, dark themes, attempted sa & non-graphic sa but pls *read at your own discretion*, gore/violence, sexual themes, etc.

word count: 1.1k

“Again.”

You can’t help but to flinch at the sound of swords being drawn; it rings in your ears, echos in the recesses of your brain. The piercing, metallic clangs resound throughout the room-

How long had you been here, anyway? Judging from the sunlight that peers through the high transom windows, its golden rays giving the great hall an ethereal sort of glow, it must be nearing time for dinner-

“I’ve seen enough, thank you.”

With a dismissive wave, you rise from the bronze throne and turn on your heel, eyes focused straight ahead, fixated on the intricate carvings in the doors, your escape just within reach-

“Your Grace..”

General Leon’s voice is laced with exasperation and warning, and your long history with him is the only reason you halt, your handmaid nearly bumping into you as you turn again- the young woman struggling to rearrange the ridiculous train on your gown as the man speaks,

“You cannot continue on without a Queen’s Guard- His Grace demands the position be filled.”

Oh, of course. How thoughtful of your kind husband. The husband who only sees you when the physicians deem you fertile enough to produce an heir. The husband who you’re not even sure could pick your face in a crowd because he only ever fucks you from behind, your face pushed down into the animal furs beneath you.

The husband who killed your last guard, gods rest his soul.

Yes, I’m sure he’s very concerned for my safety..

You give a heavy sigh, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you feel the placating smile tug at your lips; the one you’re so, so good at. The practiced smile that puts everyone in the room at ease, the one you’ve perfected in your relatively short existence of being groomed for this very life.

The life everyone dreams of, a life of royalty, of the highest privilege and power- how little they truly know.

“Of course, please, let us meet the next one then.”

Taking your place upon the throne once again, you sit properly, prim and demure, just like you were taught. The very picture of perfection in your emerald colored silks, not a single hair out of place-

Yet, inside, you were wasting away, your thoughts boiling and raging, your anger smoldering just under the surface, like a vein of coal in the earth that’s been lit aflame- the embers never dying, but never able to turn into the inferno they so wishe to be.

You don’t bother to spare your gaze when the doors open with a low groan, the quiet footfalls that enter the space only really given away by the shifting of chainmail and armor.

They’re confident strides, you notice- long and steady, and without even seeing him yet, you can feel the energy shift around you, his presence seeming to fill every available void,

“Ser Simon Riley, Your Grace.”

With one look, you’re utterly struck by the imposing man walking towards you- shoulders and hips swaying with each deliberate step, left hand resting lazily on the hilt of his long-sword.

His armor plates are dark, obsidian in hue, so different from the usual flashy silver you see everywhere you look. He is a looming shadow in front of you, somehow as wide as he is tall, if that were possible- and his eyes. The skin around them have been smudged with kohl, making the mottled amber of his irises look preternatural, his unmoving gaze entirely focused on you, even when he bows,

“Your Majesty.”

Your mind screams danger, much like it would if a fully grown wolf had just sauntered through the doors, looking for its next meal- and yet, for as much fear as he inspires, there’s something that draws you in- like a siren singing to sailors lost at sea.

Returning his gesture, you gently nod, holding his eyes until the General calls him back to assume a fighting stance; and even then, you swear you see his head tilt just so, just enough to flash you an arrogant look as the guard takes his place across from him. Ser Simon must easily stand a head and a half taller than the other man, you think, his figure even more impressive than it was before.

The men exchange nods before drawing swords, their dance beginning the same as all the others, assessing and calculating each other until the guard makes the first move-

The heavy whoosh of his blade is dodged with little effort, the giant wraith of a man moving far faster than any of you expected. He gracefully ducks under the other’s still outstretched arm, placing himself in the perfect position to swing his own sword towards his opponent's exposed neck- a maneuver surely meant to behead if this were anything other than a mock duel.

“Reset-”

“No.” You stand abruptly, stepping down from the throne much to your own surprise, “Ser Simon, what experience do you have as a Royal Guard?”

“Your Grace, this is-”

With a raised hand, you quiet the General, watching the mysterious knight sheath his sword once more, bowing again as he faces you,

“None, Your Majesty.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“What experience do you have then?”

His head tilts to the side, and you watch the other guards tense when he takes a single step closer, those damned eyes gleaming down at you with a hunger you’ve never quite seen before,

“Battle, Your Grace. I’ve seen far more than most.”

This time, it’s you moving towards him, and when you step closer, the Kingsguard follows suit, though it seems nothing goes unnoticed by the towering specter.

“Well, Ser, I do not go into battle.. You might be better suited for my husband’s army, no?”

You watch the very corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, his gaze narrowing in amusement, and you’re positive you would see a devilish smile on his lips if he removed the helmet,

“I might.” He says flippantly, broad shoulders shrugging as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “But, I came here to serve you, My Queen.”

A deep and burning chill blooms in your core at his words and the resolute way he says them; it lights every nerve on fire, every cell and molecule, every atom in your being vibrating at a frequency you’ve never felt as the title rolls off his gilded tongue.

No, you’ve never met a man quite like this, and part of you questions if he truly is just a man at all- because no man has ever felt like this, no man has ever been able to pick you apart so quickly, make you feel bare with just his gaze alone.

He terrifies you as much as he excites you, and oh, how you’ve longed to feel something other than loathing, and boredom.

There is nothing practiced or placating about the smirk on your lips now as you nod toward your General, your handmaid once again adjusting the cumbersome fabric of your gown as you move forward-

“Well, you’ve gotten your wish, Ser Simon.” You coo as you breeze past him without a parting glance, “General Leon, make sure my guard is taken to his new quarters, will you?”

They fall into a sweeping bow as you exit, a quiet acknowledgement being the last thing you hear before the deep pulsing of your own heartbeat fills your ears.

What in the seven hells have I done..

[chapter 2 >>>]

[gladiatorcunt]

i'd really like to know if he'd have any types of kinks or a type?!!

like from what I've read from you, maybe it's just my impression, but does he find chubby people more attractive? (self-insert hihi)

or just kinks he'd have; like, modern!coryo screams corruption kink (maybe even a virgin!reader 👀), and things like degradation/praise, as well as a pretty big dom situation 👀

anyways, love your stuff!

I can't help coming back to your modern! coryo au literally everyday, I'm in love 🫡🫠

CW: implied-ish plus sized reader but i use “chubbier” so it’s a bit ambiguous i guess but that’s how i picture them, don’t like don’t read

First of all, thank you so much for loving the au, it's kind of getting demotivating a bit to see the fandom slow down but I'll ALWAYS have modern! coryo brain rot. So, I guess someday I'll be shouting into the void lmao.

I do think that when it comes to preferences, he does prefer chubbier people. He's one of those guys that likes being able to just really grab and slap anything and everything because you've got more than enough meat on your bones. Also, idk how to quite explain it, but I think he enjoys what he believes is a more realistic (?) body, like he'd deadass get so offended if you thought you had to shave or cover up stretch marks. He comes from a very superficial world where the beauty standards are impossible to achieve (edit: i’m NOT talking about being skinny being impossible, i’m talking about general beauty standards and having an unrealistically proportioned body like the ones in media, i’m aware that skinny people exist) . It's like how for a while, Aphrodite and other similar goddesses were depicted in media as very skinny but when you look back at how they were actually worshiped, there are statues and carvings and etc. with belly rolls and all kinds of versions of bigger bodies. That's what reader's body reminds him of, gets him feel closer to God and all that.

I'll get to some actual kinks in a second, but I do think he likes more of a reluctant person. He's someone that is built for the chase and that really revels in the wooing process, he'd never been in love before you, so the rush of intense feelings kicks his adrenaline into overdrive. It's a sort of predator/prey thing without being a full-blown kink, Coryo stalks and he circles around you until you're given such a small window of escape that you already missed your chance by the time he decides that he's done waiting around. You have the whole cutesy 'will they? won't they?' thing going for a bit until you just don't anymore.

In my head, modern!coryo's reader is a virgin for that exact purpose lol like he does have a fuck boy past that's typical for his place in society, so I just love the idea of sex suddenly becoming so "special" to him now that he's possessed with the need to mold your experience around him so you could never be satisfied by anyone else. I think he'd want to keep some of that shyness and insecurity no matter how much experience he gives you, so he can reassure you and praise you and tell you to suck on his fingers so the stretch of his cock won't be all you can think about.

He does favor praise over degradation but when he does degrade it's more... positive (???) in his eyes, calling you dumb because he wants you know you don't have to be smart, saying you're his slutty whore because he wants you to feel comfortable enough being as nasty as possible with him, etc. No matter what name he calls you, he's adding 'my' in front of it. The words will be the same, but his tone will change based on if you're driving him crazy (basically if he gets jealous for no reason again)

I also think that's he way more of a Dom type, he'll never go into extreme type stuff and he's more of a gentle Dom depending on the situation that led up to you fucking or making love. My modern!coryo is never going to let you have more control than letting you ride him (and you always end up getting tired, so he has to take over, which he is more than happy to do!). His control issues are severe like they are in canon, he's exhausted trying to hold himself back from just losing it on everybody. So, having a stress toy of an s/o that he can micromanage and love without limits does wonders for his mental health.

He's obviously obsessed with spanking/LIGHT impact play. The only bruises you'll get will be from him squeezing you too hard or littering your body with hickies, he'd bite you to pieces too but he likes to think that he has some sense of decorum.

He could get behind silk bondage, whether it's patterns on your body or spreading you out on the bed with your ankles and wrists tied to the bed frame. But he wouldn't do it because he wants to keep you from touching, he just wants to love you properly without you hurting yourself because you got shy and squirmed all over the place.

© talonplague 2024. please reblog and interact if you enjoyed!!

[rayshippouuchiha]

Dearest Fox Void, I am glad you have returned.

I need to tell you about my transfem!Ed Elric idea.

Mostly, it's that Ed has never thought about her gender, but as soon as anyone brings up she may be a girl her response is to think about it for a bit, then go "Oh! No wait that makes sense." And proceed to go all in about it.

Specifically, I'm thinking about Ed being on the run with Greed and the others and needing a disguise. What better disguise when the country is on the lookout for a short loud blond boy alchemist than a fairly normal height blond girl? Ed transmutes his coat into a dress, keeps his hair down, adds a bit more heel to his boots and speaks quietly or not at all and Boom! that's just a shy girl.

After a little bit of doing this, with Ed seemingly not having any issues with the act, Greed tries to poke at Ed a little bit.

Greed: So, you seem to be playing a girl so well, what if you actually are one? (Expecting Ed to blow up about being a man and not into girly things, etc.)

Ed: [shrugs] It's not like it's a big deal, cross-dressing is fun, everyone enjoys it a little bit.

The Chimeras: ... no, no they don't.

Ed: ... What?

Darius: Honestly, kid, i'm not sure how you do it all the time. I think if I tried it I would feel uncomfortable even if I *could* pull it off.

Heinkel: Yeah, and you seem to... enjoy being seen as a girl more than as a boy.

Ed: ...

Greed is now expecting panic and loud, fervent denials, but Ed remains quiet. It's, like, half an hour before he comes back and is like, "no, yeah, turns out I'm actually a girl. Huh."

Greed: What??? Just like that??? No angst or anything???

Ed: [shrugs] it's not like it's anything bad. I just never thought about it.

Heinkel: [deciding that he's gonna roll with it to screw with Greed] so, are you gonna change your name? Edward is pretty masculine.

Ed: [oblivious to Heinkel's game and Greedlings internal screaming] Well, I want to keep being Ed, but I never really liked Edward much anyway. Maybe Eden?

Darius: [picked up on Heinkel's wavelength] sounds good to me.

So, yeah, now Ed is going by Eden and she/her pronouns. Every time Ed meets up with someone who really knows her (Al. Winry, Pinako, Izumi and Sig) and tells them, the general reaction is "no, yeah, that tracks" and Greedling is so *so* frustrated at the nonchalance. (Hohenheim is surprised, but his general demeanor makes him incapable of expressing it to the degree Greed wants.)

After the final battle, Ling leaves Ed with a cute outfit (think that one emo anime-girl pic that was everywhere. Or any hot-topic teenage girl. The red plaid miniskirt with the chains is required) and Ed loves it, and hates that she loves it, and is mildly weirded out by the fact that it is tailored to her. But, the important thing is that she wears it to Team Mustangs room to quit the military, which is how she comes out to all of them.

See I read this and all I can think is "where's the fic, anon?" because yes please and thank you????

[sp4ceboo]

ai rant in tags bc im so fucking tired

[sigritandtheelves]

Moment of Hope

1.5k wds | PG13 | msr, scenes in between, season 9, “Trust No 1”

God help me because I HATE season 9, but I watched “Trust No 1” last night (there was some factoid I was after in the “Dearest Dana” letter exchange), and I got mad about it all over again. This ep is especially cruel when you consider where the rest of the season goes (“Some day you’ll ask me, my son…” etc.) but I’m not ever going to deal with that except in fix-its. Anyway, it occurred to me that at the end of the ep, both Mulder and Scully are in the quarry. We don’t see how either of them gets out, so presumably… they could have found each other there, at least temporarily.

Indulge me. 🤷‍♀️

—

In the presence of the quarry’s iron, whispers of an old gift come back. He can hear her fright: mortal terror in the face of a monster worse than anything they ever hunted together. But the mind of the thing that follows her is an echoing void—like a high-pitched whine. She’s screaming at it, demanding answers, which Mulder can hear with both his mind and ears—she's some yards away, in the box canyon made by the digging.

The thing will kill her, without hesitation, to get to him. How stupid he was to think they could possibly be safe. It’s suicide, but he runs toward her, toward the danger that wants him dead. Between her death and his, there isn’t even a choice.

And then, something strange. The whine gets higher-pitched, begins to vibrate like a string pulled tight and plucked. The tension builds until, like a bowstring released, there's an explosion of rock and dust. The vibration is gone. The monster is dead.

Mulder listens for any others, fellow soldiers who might be following—hunting him. But there’s nothing. He sprints through the flat plane of rock, through the hulking monoliths of digging equipment and trucks. He hears her footsteps and they are so close—she is so close. “Scully!”

The footsteps stop. “Mulder?”

“I’m here!” He jogs toward her voice, and suddenly there she is—stunning, perfect, beautiful, his Scully. They crash into each other, and he throws his arms around her. She is sobbing against him, gripping his coat, shoving her face against his shirt.

“Oh god,” she chokes out. “Oh, Mulder.”

He can’t speak. He can hardly breathe. Instead he squeezes his eyes closed and presses his lips to her hair. It’s longer now. He lets his fingers slip through it, cup the back of her head. He puts only enough room between them so he can bend his face down and kiss her.

Theirs is the desperate love of the perpetually endangered, and this kiss is no different. He swallows her fear as best he can, devours the anguish of their terrible separation. Being away from her is the worst and hardest thing he’s ever done. “Scully,” he says into her mouth. “Dana.”

She lets out another little sob, then brings her hands to his face. She holds his cheeks, looking at him in the dusty moonlight of the quarry. “You’re really here,” she says.

He drops his forehead to hers. “Scully, are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I think so. That thing, that man—he was going to kill me, I think, or he wanted to kill you. He said either you or William has to die, which doesn’t make any sense, Mulder.”

“It might,” he says. “Because of the rock. The iron.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He died, right? The rock wall of the quarry killed him.”

“I—yes. He just kind of exploded into the rock, like it was a magnet. It pulled him into it.”

Mulder nods. “The iron does something to me, too. When I’m near it, I can hear thoughts again. I can hear yours.”

Her eyebrow goes up. “Right now?”

Another nod.

“What am I thinking?”

He listens for a moment, and then smiles. “You’re thinking, Mulder you’re crazy.”

She bites her lip. “What else?”

“You’re crazy, but I love you.”

Her smile is the best thing he’s seen in months. Then her expression shifts, brow furrowing. “But what does that mean, Mulder? What does it have to do with William?”

“I could hear the supersoldier, too, Scully. Not what he was thinking, but the sound of him. Like a…” He holds his hand beside his ear and twists it back and forth. “A kind of vibration. And I think William will be able to do the same, maybe even without being near the rocks. That’s why we’re a threat to them.”

“William can do those things because of you?”

“Because of both of us.” He drags a thumb over her cheek. “You had the vaccine too. You touched the artifact, the ship in Africa.”

“William is different,” she confesses. He can see how hard it is for her to say and thinks maybe she’s never said it out loud before. He watches a crestfallen tilt emerge on her lips and brow. “So he’ll always be in danger, won’t he? You both will.”

This, it seems, is the impossible choice, the terrible price they have to pay for keeping them all alive: that they will never be together as a whole family unit.

But now they have something they didn’t before. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true, Scully.” She tilts her head, a look of both despair and expectation on her face. “Now we know how to find them,” he says. “And now we know how to kill them.”

At that moment, more footsteps come barreling toward them across the gravel, so they pull apart quickly, preparing for a fight.

“Agent Scully!”

But it’s only Monica and John.

“Over here,” Scully calls before holstering her gun and falling back against Mulder’s chest. He hooks his arm around her waist, kisses the top of her head.

“Mulder!” Monica cries. Both of the other agents look surprised to see him. "Why are you still here?"

“It's the safest place to be. Maybe the only safe place to be.”

Doggett and Reyes look at each other in confusion.

“The Shadow Man is dead,” Scully says. “We might have found a way to kill them.”

It’s good news, and Mulder should be happy about it. But standing here beside Scully is breaking his heart because the longer he stays, the harder it will be to leave again. There may be no more of these monsters in the quarry, but there are hundreds of them in D.C.

Scully digs her keys out of her jacket pocket. “I’ll explain in the car,” she says, walking toward the sedan parked near the site’s entrance. When she notices that Mulder isn’t following, she stops. Now she’s standing with Doggett and Reyes, and he is apart from them, clenching his jaw, his fist, every muscle in his body, it seems. “Mulder?”

He doesn’t want to do this again. He can’t. A steady stream of no no no no no goes through his head and they’re still in the quarry so he can hear Scully, too—figuring it out, realizing, shifting from hope to dread.

Oh no. No no. Mulder, please come with me, I need you, I can’t do this anymore, please please I need you, I can’t, no no, you have to stay you have to come with me you have to see William he needs you too and I’m so lonely, god please I love you Mulder you have to stay don’t do this to me again—

And it almost breaks him, cracks something inside him, and he has to turn away from her to speak. “I can’t, Scully.”

She’s rushing back to him, pulling his arm, turning him so he has to see the pain on her face. “Mulder, please. You said it yourself, we know how to find them now. We know what kills them.”

He’s shaking his head, but it’s so painful to refuse. “It’s not safe. I don’t want to get you hurt.” He takes her face in his hands and bends down to kiss her again. He pours all of his love into it, all of his hope that they will be together soon. When he’s alone again in a run-down trailer in the middle of nowhere, when he’s missing her so much that it physically hurts his chest, maybe he can draw from this. He feels the love pouring off of her not in words but in waves and waves of emotion. He feels her fear and her desperation and her sadness too, but mostly her love.

She breaks the kiss this time because she’s crying, and her breath hitches. Monica and John have turned away to give them privacy, but Mulder glances over at them. “You three have the tools now,” he says. “It's time to figure out a weapon, and when we know how to fight them, you come find me. Look for the iron, Scully, and that’s where I’ll be. That’s where the fight will be.”

She nods her head, but he can feel how much it hurts her to agree. “It’ll be soon, Mulder. We’ll work fast. I can’t do this for much longer.”

“Neither can I.” He wipes another round of tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Dana.”

She reaches into her pocket before he can force himself to back away and says, “Wait.” She’s holding a flat square of paper. “This is for you.”

He takes it from her. It’s a photo of William, chubby-cheeked and smiling in her arms, though her face is not quite visible in the frame. He bites his tongue until it bleeds to keep from crying, from giving in and saying he will stay. “Thank you,” he manages.

Scully looks at him like he is ripping her heart in half, which he supposes he is. I love you, she mouths silently.

He begins to back away and tries to smile, but it falls flat. “Write me another email,” he says. “They’re monitoring everything. Make them think I never saw you, okay?”

She nods, tears streaming freely down her face now. He turns, and he leaves half of his own heart behind.

— End —

Okay, that was way sadder than I thought it would be—initially I thought I’d write some kind of smut against the quarry rocks fic, lol, but that seemed slightly out of character. Anyway IN THIS UNIVERSE THE EPISODE “WILLIAM” NEVER HAPPENS and the show follows a logical plot line around the supersoldiers in which the X-Files team actually studied the iron and figured out how to kill them (why didn’t they do this on the show???) and Mulder could come back. Because honestly what the fuck was going on the rest of the time in that season?

TY for reading my middle-of-the-night word puke. 🛸❤️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for messaging an ex friend who blocked me on WhatsApp?

Before you vote YTA, this AITA isn't about block evading but I didn't know how else to describe the situation.

Ex friend 21F and I 20F are coworkers. I won't go into what happened between us because it's a loooong story, both of us made mistakes but she blows everything out of proportions and I was weak and couldn't defend myself from the wild accusations she kept making at me.

Anyway, once I started setting boundaries and standing up for myself, she got upset and blocked me on WhatsApp. For those who don't know, if you try to message someone who blocked you on WhatsApp, the message will go through but they won't receive it, after I realized she had blocked me, it felt like I was screaming into the void.

Anyway, I didn't stop messaging her, I sent long rants about all the pent up anger that accumulated throughout the one year we were friends (or more accurately tried to make the friendship work), talking about how she misinterprets my whole character and believes she's an infallible angel who never done anything to me etc etc etc.

The messages were satisfying somehow, I felt like I lectured her on what she did to me, it also reminded me of letting it out as if I were writing in a diary. I would've stopped at that point but she still harasses me from time to time even though we don't talk anymore, so I made it a habit to scream at her in her chat whenever she does something to me. I literally turned her chat into a venting diary.

One day, she "stole" my chair right in front of me, between brackets because it was clear she actually didn't know it was mine but the etiquette is to ask first and/or check if this chair was taken. She can literally know that if she just looked at the computer screen and see if an account was logged on or off.

I wanted to call her out but after all, we were both sternly told to stay away from each other. So I kept my cool because I didn't want to make a scene and instead went to WhatsApp to scream at her again. In the rant I called her thief and all sorts of insults that implied she did it on purpose, that hurts no one because she won't read it. Not to mention, she did accuse me of stealing her money before so it was like I was getting back at her for that.

After a couple of hours, she was crying and ranting to our coworkers that she accused of stealing, and that we "chould've talked about it like adults" because she didn't mean to take a taken chair and how she was finally moving on from this toxic friendship but I won't let it go blah blah blah.

I was confused because she wasn't supposed to read the message, that's when I realized she had unblocked me sometimes these past couple of weeks for some reason. I was called to HR and I would've been fired but I defended myself by listing all the terrible things she did to me. Finding evidence wasn't difficult because my rants included chat screenshots of the terrible things she said to be before and they decided she was a bigger AH than I was, but they were creeped by my behaviors and called me out on it. Not only HR, but my coworkers too.

AITA for continuing to send messages without taking into account the possibility she might unblock me anytime?

What are these acronyms?

[piko-rose]

If there's one thing from Season 2 of Sonic Prime that lives rent free in my head, it's THIS-

It's a small moment, but so much is dissected in just three seconds of this one shot.

Mainly the expression and the voice from Sonic here.

Deven Mack's delivery on screaming out for Shadow's name is just, incredible. You can literally hear the fear in Sonic's tone when Shadow got slammed by some giant crystals and fell into the void. (or whatever the heck it's called I'm thinking about rewatching some episodes until Season 3)

And since we can recall the final moments in Adventure 2 where Shadow falls to the Earth, and apparently knowing that according to one of the Takeovers, Sonic was going to save him but Shadow refused him to so that way he wouldn't fall with him, this just makes this moment, and the delivery alone, even more intense, if not, heartbreaking. (At least in my opinion lol)

And we need to mention the eyes.

I couldn't help but notice some of the smallest of details not a lot of people pay attention to, unless you're me, who goes insane over outstanding animation details. XD

My personal favorite details are the eyes, since they express a lot of emotion without words. This is the best example.

These emerald eyes? Right here? Fucking horrified of loosing Shadow.

Frantically looking around the darkness looking for a black and red figure and just praying that he's still there, but especially alive and okay.

This tiny moment here just means so much to me.

Sonic here, for a split second, thought that he lost Shadow, and not only did he nearly loose him again, but Shadow was the only person he knows from his own world, meanwhile his friends (and Eggman) were shattered, and this was also after seeing his friends as ghosts on loop.

And even though earlier they were fighting over Nine's gadgets, Sonic here was worried, if not, terrified, about loosing Shadow, the only one who survived the whole shattering the shards shtick aside from himself.

Plus, he needed someone from his world to talk to anyway (at least try to talk to) since his friends right now don't know who he is, suspects him as a bad guy, betrayed him at some point, all of the above, etc.

He ain't loosing Shadow. He doesn't even care if they were fighting, he is NOT loosing Shadow.

He is NOT loosing his only friend.

And that's why I love this shot here.

And I also wish I can just clip videos instead of just taking pics without said audio god dammit-