#subject ; chatting

[gladosluver]

glados speaking to the personality cores like "chat do we fill the room with deadly neurotoxin"

[avaetin]

Nico in a modern world setting would be a streamer called 'Ghost King'.

Specifically, a horror game streamer. That would be like his main thing. He's that streamer who plays horror games but rarely gets jumpscared. He's the type to make sarcastic comments and critic on game design while being chased down by a ghost.

He rarely plays multiplayer games, but when he does, his streams are so fun and chaotic because he would lose his cool while playing with his friends who, especially in a game setting, he consider as idiots.

Imagine him playing Phasmophobia, Forewarned or Demonologist and just getting invested with trying to figure out the type of ghost/spirit/evil while the other three players are running around, unintentionally provoking the ghost/spirit/evil as they scream into the background. They'll be wondering why Nico isn't responding to them and jump into his stream, only to find out that Nico have them on mute.

Imagine him playing Among Us. He would be a ruthless killer.

[randomfoggytiger]

I’ve been an x files fan for years now (since 2008ish) but fan fic has never been my thing. If I wanted to give it another go, what writers or pieces of fic would be a good place for me to start? Thanks! 😊

What a dream request, thank you!

Not much of a fic reader? Hm. I drifted to fanfiction because I wanted a canonical hole plugged in; but it sounds like you're looking for quality.

I'm narrowing these suggestions to long-form fics, and going to try to keep them as "fandom approved" as possible. (I'm also cutting back on the "famfic" recs because that's not everyone's cup of tea~.)

Authors whose works could (one could argue, should) be published as novels, in no particular order:

@amplifyme/Lydia Bower, @aloysiavirgata, @slippinmickeys,

@cecilysass, @teethnbone, @dreamingofscully, @sixhours,

@mashnotesofthemythopoeic/Penumbra, @sigritandtheelves/Darla,

@onpaperfirst, @melforbes, @ghostbustermelanieking/skuls,

Jenna Tooms, @seek-its-opposite, @settle-down-frohike,

@frostbitepandaaaaa, @leiascully, @darwin-xf, Beshter,

@scenes-in-between/scullywolf, @scullylikesscience

Here's a brief rundown on each author, to the best of my abilities:

amplifyme

My mother's embraces are frightening in their intensity, and I can feel her fear as though it seeps from her pores. Mulder's arms hold me easily but fully. And there is a calming effect in his touch. He restores me to myself, makes me strong again. I wish I had taken the chance and discovered that years ago.

-Dance Without Sleeping

One of the OGs. Her writing explores the paths of Mulder's and Scully's minds. The Scully in her stories is pragmatic, matter-of-fact, and protective of her secrets. The Mulder in her stories is tender, predictably mercurial, and secretive, as well. The most direct admittance can be the most damaging, and the most healing. Her longest work is, I believe, Dance Without Sleeping; but my favorite, though short, happens to be Light Don't Sleep. Her Ao3 is here.

aloysiavirgata

“That’s a fair question, Senator,” Scully observes in her liquid nitrogen voice. She leans forward in her seat, just a little, just enough, to remind him that predators have eyes at the front of their heads. Scully crosses her legs and gives the Senator the full force of her blue eyes, the hard angles of her good cheekbones.  

She is magnificent, Mulder thinks, smitten. She is Themis, she is Ma’at. One day she will devour the hearts of the unrighteous, his own included.

-Singing of Mount Abora

One of the OGs. She treads the line between poetry and prose so seamlessly you are left, baffled, by her intelligence. Her writing features Mulder and Scully with a little bite: neither are fools, and neither will be trifled with. (They're also wickedly intelligent nerds.) Mulder is Jewish (though that rarely comes up) and was married before (though that only comes up when it comes up.) Canon halts in Season 7, but that doesn't stop her from writing Season 9 masterpieces with Mulder and Scully and their son-- which is where I'd recommend you begin, with By Falling In and In. If that's not your cup of tea, I'd say catch up on her canon divergent Waters of Babylon, Petrichor, and Singing of Mount Abora. Her Ao3 is here.

slippingmickeys

The boy winced and inhaled sharply as her fingers ran over the cleft where the fibula met the talus and she rocked back on her heels, eyeing the darkening horizon. Did he have people nearby? Could she leave him here without guilt? She didn’t really have the time or inclination to take on a project — she and Mulder had tried that before — banding together with other survivors, and it had always ended poorly. And boys his age, as few as she had seen, made her uncomfortable. Her subconscious would scan their features, looking for a genetic echo of the Scully-Mulder’s. Mulder would have to pull her aside and whisper “it’s not him,” and she didn’t have the space in her heart for the guilt. Even now she had to ignore the blue of his eyes and the way his gritted teeth had the same gnathic slant as the only man she’d ever loved.

-North of Zero

One of the OGs. Her Mulder and Scully are practical, capable, sleek survivors. Her writing exists somewhere between the clack of a gun slide and the omnipresence scent of a wild pine forest. She's written extensively on... everything: Colonization, space, POL, case files, mytharc, everything; and well. I'd recommend North of Zero for a starter. Her Ao3 is here.

cecilysass

It’s Mulder, she reminds herself. No matter how long you may have been gone, or what has happened in your absence, you know what to expect from Mulder.

At last he shuffles through the door, and it’s him, definitely him: head bent, looking weary and wilted. He turns to lock the door again, evidently not paying very much attention to his surroundings.

Her heart constricts. “Mulder,” she voices softly.

She can see his whole body go still from behind, but he doesn’t look right away. His back remains to her.

-Pause

One of the OGs. Her Mulder and Scully are weighed by secrets, by their unspoken. Her writing dwells in the silences; and the tones of her work shift depending on the narrative: insular and psychologically exploratory, fast-paced and bitterly overwhelming, slow and unspooling and peaceful-- but always with a bittersweet aftertaste. I would do a disservice if I didn't recommend A Boy on the Beach first; but my personal favorite is Pause (and All the Dead Mulders and Not Orpheus, Not Eurydice.) Her Ao3 is here.

darwin_xf

Mulder. Her genius. Who happened also to be her blithering idiot. A fresh swell of affection overtook her. This is how it was for her, even just talking to him. One minute she was standing in the shallows enjoying or enduring or surviving a day at the beach, whichever kind of day it was. The next she'd find herself walloped and rolled by the rogue wave of her feelings for him. Then she was surfacing, sputtering, salt-blind, struggling to find the steady line of the horizon.

-Vox Mulder: Fired and Wired

One of the OGs. Darwin's writing is clipped and "action" focused. Her Mulder and Scully are fond and quippy and silently torturing themselves with their own repressions or secrets. Vox Mulder: Fired and Wired covers the IVF arc concurrent with Mulder's (secret) brain disease diagnosis; and her notes tearing into canon's handling of the latter arc are incredibly detailed, incredibly satisfying, and incredibly hilarious. Her Ao3 is here.

dreamingofscully

They searched, staying together with Scully’s single flashlight. As she suspected, they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. The cellar was devoid of sound and light, not a single rat or insect scurrying about. No more traces of the unknown substance.

They followed the trail of viscous fluid back to their room. Their adrenaline-fueled trek left her exhausted, and she was hopeful she would be able to sleep for a few more hours before dawn. Not even her fear could break through the cottony haze that clouded her mind. Collapsing on the bed, Mulder pulled off her slippers. 

-Surely, to the sea

One of the OGs. Her writing is practical and pleading-- the veneer that Mulder and Scully front, and the truth. Her Scully has teeth but prefers silence and distance. Her Mulder stubbornly walks the thin line between opening his partner up or closing her back together tighter. Trust-- in each other, in themselves-- can be broken and mended with the right words, the right meaning. I recommend starting with Surely, to the Sea (and my favorite short fic is this one.) Her Ao3 is here.

Frostbite Panda

“I make you a whole person,” she whispers. The slam of sudden memory is heady, destabilizing, threatening to spin her clean from reality. 

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, a sound escaping him that she cannot identify. Truth be told, he looks a bit ridiculous— wrapped in a green sleeping bag looking like a dormant pupa, not the wrecked and ruined man he was. 

-Four Days on the 63rd Parallel

One of the OGs (I believe.) Her writing is grand and touching, a microcosm of the macro effects Mulder and Scully face alongside, and with, each other. Her Scully is reluctant, doubting Mulder's beliefs but trusting him; and her Mulder is courageous and wallowing, afraid to try for fear of rejection. Four Days on the 63rd Parallel (and its follow-up In a Perfect World) explores what would have happened if Mulder and Scully had been trapped in Antarctica, in a snocat, alone, until help arrived. Her Ao3 is here, and requires you to be logged in.

Jenna Tooms

Then there's the matter of Mulder and his reaction to scissors and the razor. When he was first released from the hospital I took him to his old barber. He made it into a seat, and even let the barber tie the cloth around his neck. At the first flash of the scissors, though, he was up and out so fast for a moment I only stood in the waiting area dumbfounded, the baby in my arms.

He will, however, let me cut his hair and trim his beard--which he grew to cover his facial scars. I let him keep it as long as he lets me keep it neat.

-An Acceptable Level of Happiness

One of the OGs (if I recall.) Her writing is just north of canon, veering off to give us better, brighter spots to land Mulder and Scully. Her Mulder and Scully are soft, seemingly delicate with a touch of steel underneath. They've taken a beating, have internalized that beating, and are being supported wholeheartedly by the other person in their partnership. If you want canon-ish, I'd recommend An Acceptable Level of Happiness; if you want mytharc-ish further down the timeline, I'd suggest Truly, Madly, Deeply, and if you want canon veered off from and returned to-ish after Requiem (16 years later), then I'd strongly lobby for Shooting Star. Her Ao3 requires a log-in, here; but Jenna's works are also on Gossamer (here).

leiascully

“Did you see this?”

She blinked at the screen of Mulder’s phone and gently pushed his wrist until it was at a distance she could focus on. Technology changed but Mulder didn’t. She couldn’t count the near misses with magazines and file folders, the threat of papercuts across her cheeks.

“Ford isn’t going to make Tauruses anymore,” he told her before she’d had a chance to actually read the headline. That was also standard procedure. Mulder was a scrolling marquee of odd headlines and interesting trivia. He was the original clickbait, drawing her in with his promises to change her world and alter her perception.

-Taurus Season

One of the OGs. leiascully's prose captures the essence and magic of ordinary things. Her Scully is secretly a wanderer, her Mulder an errant domestic. There is reciprocity in their strengths and weaknesses; and the world is always more beautifully strange together. I recommend her Visitor series, which rewrites Revival canon along necessary lines. Her Ao3 is here, and requires a log-in.

Penumbra

They slipped among the dumpsters at the back of the building and into the empty quivering night, jaywalking the shadows up the hill streets, ringing the manhole covers. False planetary lights floated about in the foggy sky. Scully opened her fawn umbrella. Mulder glanced often behind them, his fingers pressed into the suspension muscles of her hard young back.

-Bad Radio

One of the OGs. Her Scully is strong and silent and will not be swayed; her Mulder is withdrawn and foreboding. Her most infamous work is Heuvelmans' On the Tracks, but I know her better through this post Gethsemane cancer arc fic: its darkness, its inevitability, its immovable-object-meets-unstoppable-force. Her Ao3 is here.

Prufrock's Love

"He says a horse bit him," Duana translated for her mother. Duana stripped off Lord William's tunic and ruined shirt to reveal the wound. "He damages more clothing..."

Lord William stooped to show Caithrin the twin rows of tooth marks on his left shoulder, still telling his woeful tale....

Not sure what was expected of her and thoroughly intimidated, Caithrin did as she would with her own sons. She made the sympathetic face and clucked over him like a mother hen. Lord William, pacified, settled down on the stool by the fire to let Duana doctor him.

-Hiraeth

One of the OGs. Her Mulder and Scully are messed up, secrets upon secrets, love and miscommunication and chaos towards each other and themselves. Prufrock's prose and dry wit can't be denied; and she's most notably known for Belghor's Prime, a Mulder time-traveling story, and Paracelsus, a Civil War fic that loosely locks into her sprawling, transformative "past lives" series. I, personally, prefer Hiraeth, because the Mulder and Scully I read there aligns (mostly) with my interpretation of canon. Her Ao3 is here.

onpaperfirst

The chip was round and under a microscope the texture looked like fish scales. 

The procedure was over in ten minutes. Three tiny stitches at the back of her neck with a gauze pad taped on top. It shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

-Snakebitten

One of the OGs (if I recall.) Her Mulder and Scully are inherently bound, even if the plot has driven a wedge between them. They speak the same language with different words, they work back to each other with lightning speed, they are chummy, they are contented. Their humor is fantastic. Her longest, angstiest work is Snakebitten, a rewrite leading up to The Pine Bluff Variant; but my personal ones are (surprise, surprise) her "part one" and "part two" short fics, Home, Home and Honey Hi. Her Ao3 is here.

seek_its_opposite

She leaves her rumpled partner in the car with the window cracked while she goes to the front desk, glancing back possessively over her shoulder as the woman behind the counter gets their keys. One room, two beds. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, Mulder.”

She keeps seeing him like she found him, on his knees before the ghosts of his childhood. She sees him praying to the barrel of his gun.

-photosensitivity

One of the OGs (I think?) She writes incredible meta on the series; but she's also written one of my favorite short fics, ever (and I have a lot of those.) You can navigate to the rest of her Ao3 through this link, but you'll have to get through photosensitivity first. >:DDD

settle-down-frohike

“I’m fine, Scully,” indignantly going back to the task at hand. And she’d have believed him too, if he wasn’t looking through her, if his pitch hadn’t been a little too high, if he hadn’t forgotten the fact that her shoes were the very last thing to put on and she wasn’t even out of her hospital gown yet. She allowed it out of pity, mostly. Or humor. But his hands shook, fumbling with the laces like a feening alcoholic.

-for the WIP prompt: hospital

One of the OGs. She writes distraught Mulder incredibly well; and balances him with a Scully who is dry, caring, and bouyant all in one breath. I can't rave enough about her short fics (their links can be found here); but I'd recommend this and this and this because they tie together to form a Redux II whole. Her Ao3 is here.

sigritandtheelves

The world is different now, after so much has been lost. It moves a little slower, takes for granted a little less. It is still a dangerous place—because fear is catching and learning that things are not as they seem can make some go mad with denial and rage and terror at the loss of their footing. But it is also more peaceful, in some ways—because loss reminds us to hold love close. Because all the hearts that stopped beating are still felt in their absence. Because people, in the end, come together in crisis. They don’t only tear each other apart.

“I think we did okay,” he murmurs. “With our quarter century.”

Scully leans her head back to look at him. “Just okay?”

“Mm hmm.”

-Advent

One of the OGs. Her writing is pure sensation: cotton and earth and jeans and nine o'clock shadows and soft skin and the tangible grasp of wishes come true. Advent is her longest fic; but I implore you, on my hands and knees, to read all four of her pages on Ao3-- they're not only the gateway drug to other incredible, incredible short fic writers (ghostbustermelanieking, @baronessblixen, @o6666666, all the authors mentioned here, and so many, many more) but are also a shining example of family fic done well-- a very hard skill to pull off. Her Ao3 is here.

sixhours

Back to sleep. Sleep. No big deal. Just go to sleep.

A minute passes, then two. He’s not tired, in fact, he feels incredibly awake. His heart is pounding, a distracting pulse in his ears. The bed is too soft, too deep, too…real. He can hear her breathing next to him, feel the warmth radiating off her body, his senses screaming at the level of detail, the texture, the vividness of it all. Instinct is a dog with a bone, and it won’t let go.

Something’s wrong.

-Lucidity

One of the OGs. Her writing clips along at an even pace, the story driving Mulder and Scully ever forward. Mulder is most often on the outs, Scully most often peering at her partner silently, trying to figure him out and draw him in. But mostly, the two function independently of each other, content to drift further or nearer as long as they are together. I would recommend Lucidity as a primer. Her Ao3 is here.

touchstoneaf

He did not soften, at first.  Did not edge away, nor did he lean into her.  Much like that awful night when their office had burnt he simply stood cold with shock and while she supported him; the steadfast fidelity of their bond never questioned in the decade that they had been together.

“I was there,” she murmured into his shoulder.  /I’ll always be here./  He could accept it now.  She was finally able to press her arms about him in the night.  Feel the strong bones beneath unblemished flesh; amazed that he was even alive for her to hold after an ordeal that had indeed taken him from her for so long that she had lost all hope.  She shuddered and cinched her arms tighter; felt his ribs shift beneath the silky envelope of his skin.  They creaked in protest, but he did not move, and she spoke like one driven. 

-Amor Fati: Destinata (The Fated Love), Act Three

One of the OGs. So OG, in fact, that the butchery of Season 9's mytharc pushed her to write a mythology replacement. Scully is fearful, anxious, but strong to her core. Mulder is lonely, and loving, and afraid to slip back into dark places. Both push each other to become better than they believed they could be. Her Amor Fati, Destinata (The Fated Love) series is still being written; but it's detailed reconstruction is well-worth the read. Her Ao3 is here.

I separated these two authors out because they're the x and y axes of my personal taste:

melforbes

She falls asleep before him. In some ways, it’s a burden to share a bed with someone, not a pleasure; if he moves, he fears he’ll wake her, but it’s horrible to stay so still for so long, especially when he can’t sleep. But he can see her eyelashes in the dark, and her cheek is squashed against her own pillow, and she checked the room when they arrived to make sure that there were plenty of tissues. Had there been a couch here, even a divan, he would’ve taken to that instead, let her sleep soundly without him. The day of the wedding - he almost tenses at the word wedding, not because he dislikes it but because it feels so strange and unreal, as if it never really happened even though he remembers it so easily and comfortably - they had a makeshift reception in her apartment, just cutting cake with her mother and then sharing slices with the Gunmen after her mother left. If anything, it felt more like a funeral than a wedding reception, so many questions tiptoed around, everything too urgent and human to be a celebration, but between guests, she grabbed part of her slice with her bare fingers and pressed the cake against his face unexpectedly, and he looked at her with surprise, and she laughed in an inward way that made her shoulders move. 

-seaglass blue

One of the OGs (I believe.) I have to start here because seaglass blue is grafted onto my heart. Set before Gethsemane, the author based it on a real couple's journey with impending death; and the way she wrote Mulder's POV-- how she kept us always locked in his head each and every day of his honeymoon with Scully-- is forever burned on my psyche. I don't see the emotional damage, if you will, as unnecessary or melodramatic or traumatic-- it's just a window into the slow approach to the end, or a fear of it. (However, if the writing is too "overlapping" or "run-on" for your taste, I'd recommend aloysiavirgata's gorgeously succinct prose, mentioned above~.) All of her works are fantastic; and, oddly, the rest are usually beautifully cozy (if you can find them on her page.) (Note: authors with their own uniquely similar styles include @teethnbone and @enigmaticdrblockhead -- can't recommend their work enough, particularly The Ansted Graft and this list here, respectively.) mel's Ao3 is here.

skuls

They follow Mulder's trail, Scully's heart thudding too hard against her ribs. Skinner is telling her that Mulder wouldn't do anything crazy when it comes, the headache. Pounding against her skull. And then she hears Will crying out: Dad!

Scully bends over, stomach against her knees, clutching her temple. “Scully?” Skinner is saying. “Scully, what's going on?” But she can't hear him over the roaring in her eyes. William is still speaking, rapid-fire in her mind: They're hurting him, Mom, they're hurting him! Make them stop!

In a flash, she can see what William sees. Mulder barely conscious, being dragged outside through the snow. An axe in the hand of his attacker. “Scully, are you alright?” Skinner protests.

-silent conversations

One of the new recruits (I think.) Her writing is an art form: painting broad, sweeping pictures on the tiniest canvases, in the shortest sentences. Her descriptions, characterizations, and dialogue all serve the plot-- not a hair out of place and not a nook or cranny neglected. I will never be over her short fics, but her longer works are crafted carefully, too. If you want a complete rewrite of the entire series' mythology, then the Half-Light universe does it, and does it better; if you want a Season 8 casefile, then snow in april manipulates Mulder and Scully to a very sinister town; if you want Season 7 to properly deal with Mulder's brain disease, encephalon's got you covered; if you want William to stay with Mulder and Scully, William AU (relent, silent conversations, noises echoing, not out loud) bends in that direction; and if you want a complete rewrite of Samantha's abduction, california winter is where I'd start. Her Ao3 is here.

And lastly, do you want to read long-form fill in series? These three are masterfully done.

Beshter

There were few things in the world that Dana Scully could imagine were more arduous in her the world than family dinner night. Perhaps climbing Mt. Everest in the middle of a howling blizzard would be one. Maybe crawling out of the Amazon rainforest with a broken limb would be another. Even walking single-handedly into the desert with just one canteen of water between you and horrible death under the scorching sun could trump the monthly gathering of the Scully clan at her parent's house in Baltimore to have dinner with her parents.

One of the OGs. Her X-files Seasons covers every crack, crevice, and canyon in the show: Scully's life and family separate from Mulder, the journey drawing her closer into Mulder's world, and her own transformation from the green agent she was to the woman of diamond she became. Her Ao3 is here.

scullylikesscience

Over the course of the weekend, Mulder hardly talked at all. When he did speak, he was abrupt, flippant, and sometimes defensive. He still didn’t want to be touched, nor did it seem to Scully that he wanted to touch her. He kept a wall up around him, a protective shield. She tried to give him what she thought he wanted, space and distance, while at the same time trying to let him know that she was there if he needed her. It was a difficult balance. He seemed glad of her company, yet disinclined to talk to her at all.

-Chapter 87

One of the OGs. Her He is the Master of His Fate, She is the Captain of Her Soul series exquisitely fills in Season 7, Season 8, Season 9, IWTB, Season 10, and S11 while filing over and rewriting the incredibly stupid canon decisions along the way. Her Ao3 is here.

scullywolf

Mulder stirred again and mumbled something she couldn’t make out, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking in his sleep or actually trying to tell her something. She leaned over to put her face closer to his, listening.

“They’re not the same.”

She frowned. “What’s not?”

He shifted, blinking up at her. “Moth men. You might think they’re the same as the Jersey Devil, and the circumstances are similar, but they’re not the same.”

“You mean aside from the fact that this is Florida, not New Jersey?”

-Detour

One of the OGs (I believe.) Her TXF: Scenes in Between series plucks one moment from each episode and builds upon it, providing a window into either Mulder's or Scully's psyches. She even tackles Mulder's (alleged) Season 7 brain disease. Her Ao3 is here.

If you want more fic recs, I have lists catalogued under my Collector's Edition tag. If you want even more fic recs, I wrote a fanfic resource post here. And if those aren't enough to appease your hunger, @lilydalexf and @fine-nephrit have pinned master posts that will probably have something for you.

Hope this helped~! And drop back in sometime-- let me know if you read something you enjoyed, or found fanfic still isn't your preference. :DDDD

[merakiui]

I want to ruin Rollo so bad that he he stumbles out of the student president's office before he has time to fix himself. Maybe he comes back for seconds, if he does, he's getting thrown on the bed.

SO REAL OMG..... I need to give him just a crumb of pussy,,, a film preview, if you will, so that he's laying awake every night thinking about it in the most debilitating of ways. I need him to be drooling over me,,, that scene from Hunchback where Frollo's eyes are all red from monologuing in front of the fireplace,,,, that but instead Rollo was up all night writing erotica in his diary because he's down bad, and somehow the bags under his eyes are even darker and deeper than they were before. You can't give him just a tease of romance/lust/sex and expect him to be normal about it.

Giving him the best head of his life and it leaves him grabbing at the air. I need him weak in the knees. I need him desperate and pathetic. I need to peg him.

Rollo Flamme after succumbing to his lust:

[l3irdl3rain]

Just the Two of Them (they can make it if they tryyyy!)

Hope you are doing okay. I'm so, so sorry about Merrill. Also please kiss Arthur's goofy head for me

top 10 silliest looking creatures of all time. Numbers 6 and 7 will shock you!!!

I am doing okay. I’m in a little bit of a slump but the weather has finally improved after a week of rain and some snow. This was unfortunate timing though bc I now have a whole week off work at the clinic and I prefer to keep myself busy while I’m grieving, otherwise I just sit around and mope and that’s no good for my mental health. When I got home after the euthanasia yesterday a Kermit the frog shirt I’d ordered had been delivered. That was cool.

[beatriceportinari]

Another year, another outfit to die in! Happy birthday again Izuna!!!!!!

Like last year, I played with someone else's lines for these charming patterns, thank you so much Lena @elhnrt ! I had a ton of fun :D

Check the readmore for pattern references and explanations, there are some easter eggs in there :)

(x,x,x,x)

My goal for this piece, in addition to playing with patterns and textures and adding some Naruto references, was to add as many death flags as possible.

The idea of having Izuna in a fireman's coat is obviously not from me. I've always like the idea of Uchihas in fire resistant clothes, and the opportunity for a thick texture alongside a reversible double pattern is very appealing. I used the image of the second reference as a base, with skulls on one side and stylized lightning patterns on the other (visible inside the sleeves and collar). Both were common immagery of firemen coats.

The actual skull pattern is taken from the third reference. I'd seen this one before and before even learning anything abt it it was too beautiful to pass up. Those white and navy gradients are absolutely delightful and I enjoyed using my gel pens for them very much.... This particular type of imagery with skulls and bones in a field is called Nozarashi, inspired by Buddhist representation of death and transience.

The lightning pattern itself is a reference to water and lightning dragons :) Like Tobirama's iconic jutsu, it's one of the hints of what's abt to happen to our little guy. The scabbard is also decorated with dragon motifs for the same reason.

The background pattern is taken from the first reference, another fireman's coat with an illustration of Raijin, the thunder god. He is often representated with drums decorated with tomoes. It works nicely as a standard looking sharingan illustration, with a reference to Tobirama's hiraishingiris with the thunder imagery, like the thunder patterns inside the coat.

If you're interested in this I recommend the book linked in the second reference! It is entirely about skeleton motifs in japanese clothing of the early 20th century.

[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?

[staab]

Trying new styles with queen bee

[incorrect-primarchs-quotes]

By the way, about the female custodes drama - since I just answered anon this came to my mind-, the other day I saw something absolutely "funny".

Apparently most lore yt channels are fine with female custodes, especially those who are known to be lore human libraries.

People's reaction to them: ewww tourists >:c

Then:

Random person who clearly has only read the wiki once: *explain why they are against female custodes*

The same exact people: real man, you know so much omg 🥰

It was.. weird.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

cant scribble it out bc its too Involved but here's a Laughingstock thought that just feels Right:

im imagining them sitting down and going through a list of pet names to use for each other. like Howdy has a clipboard, Barnaby's sitting across the counter, they're going through the list and striking out the ones that don't work. playfully teasing each other about certain suggestions, losing it over a Bit where they try to call each other the names in the most sickeningly sweet lovey-dovey voices and see who cracks first, mutually making fun of some options, getting flustered when they find one they like. yeah <3

[richter10]

When we really stop to think, the great tragedy of Miraculous is that Marinette was led to believe that she herself needs to endure every burden, solve every problem, stand to whatever pressure, match every expectation of everybogy around her... that she needs to hold the sky, just so she could be considered to be enough.

And no one tells her that she is actually allowed to ask for help... no one actually tells her she do not need to be Atlas...

[formelydailynowweeklykillersans]

killer please eat, even just a little bit, even some water is good too if you can’t eat that much. We all care about you even though you barely know us! We want you to be safe and to try and lift your spirits as best as we can!!

if no one’s gonna like you, then you have us, the kind anons, you may not know us, but we’re rooting for you!! Because we love you!! (/platonic)

also, try being friends with that ‘Color’ guy, it’ll be very beneficial!! :)

...

...

You guys are really insisting about that rainbow guy.

[ask-asexual-crystal-gems]

*Alloromantics talking about romance

Me, an aro: god make it stop

*Allosexuals talking about sex

Me, an ace spec repulsed person: god shut upppppp

*Gendered people discoursing enndddlesssly about gender which is so abstract

Me, agender: why. Just why.

(which is far more common in the ace community)

(I was gonna wait to post this until we found out whether Trump was thwarted in the election, but @galaxy--ace put out a call for spicy takes, and mentioned something very similar, so I guess here we go…)

*conventionally trans people waxing poetic about their ideal body and bemoaning the one they have

Me, agender: My ideal form is genital-less and maybe not even physical. I can’t transition to that. Oh, you can transition but are still complaining and not contemplating body positivity or body neutrality? Hm. I’m sure the people or teens you’re mentoring and those you’re socially influencing will benefit from that discourse omission.

*alloplatonic people talking about friendships

Me, an aplatonic(?): Yes. Yes that right there. Good shit. Keep going. More! Morrrre!!!! I have so much vicarious fun watching you do something despite the fact I don’t much seem to be interested in such.

*goes back to watching shows about various careers and stuff I’d never do

*returns

Wholesome! Nom nom! Feed me!

[phosphorus-noodles]

every once in a while i'll remember this friend i had in high school that was one of the few mcyt fans i knew irl and EXCLUSIVELY watched content from techno and wilbur soot and actively refused to watch anything else. i wonder how she's doing now, because. well

[merakiui]

overblot! Riddle nonconning you in front of Ace and Deuce while going on about how this is the only thing a magicless nobody is good for 👍🏼

Omg yes,,,,,,,,

(cw: yandere, gender neutral, nsfw, non-con, humiliation/degradation, public sex)

Amidst a ruined, debris-ridden rose maze, a monster looms. No one dares stray close, lest they find themselves maimed and sent to the grave, and so they can only watch helplessly from the safety of overturned chairs, tables, and uprooted rose trees. The scene was once serene, an almost-perfect Unbirthday. Now it is desolate and bleak, a nightmarish reality that leaves thick, discomforting silence blanketing the grounds.

Riddle casts a grotesquely bone-chilling shadow, and his appearance mirrors that of a creature torn from the pages of a classic horror; that's the only way to describe him: cruel and cold, all sharp, vicious edges and thorns, dripping blot. He's on the verge of a supernova, toeing the line of life and death, a monstrous mage who has reached the consequences of a culmination of excessive magic, spilled over into bitter negativity. The aura that clings to him is, in a word, utterly terrifying.

And you're right there in his shadow, a fragile, caged thing bent down on your hands and knees. Your fingers curl into the grass, tearing clumps. No one dares to speak up, to demand he release you, to fight for your safety and dignity. Hopelessly collared, Ace and Deuce, your closest companions in all of this mess, look on in horror even though they don't mean to.

It's like a tragedy spun right before their eyes. They want to look away, but they can't. It's morbidly ensorcelling.

"Observe!" Riddle's voice booms, commanding absolute obedience and attention. His pallid hips press against your ass while clawed hands dig into your hips, holding you perfectly still. Blood is drawn; it seeps beneath his sharpened nails, leaving painful indents. You feel filthy and fearful, cut down to something small and insignificant and weak. Droplets of blot speckle your backside each time he shifts. It's warm like candle wax, but it doesn't burn.

The betrayal does, though—stains through to your very soul.

You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of drifting off elsewhere. Anywhere that isn't here, speared on his cock for all to see, forced into the grass like you're bowing apologetically before the Queen and her card soldiers.

"You lack the key capabilities all mages must possess, and yet you thought it wise to challenge my rules? Here? When my word is law?" He barks out a laugh, sickly amused. Scarlet eyes narrow with disdain. "Perhaps you're as slovenly as you are disobedient. As expected of a disrespectful, magic-less fool who knows nothing! Absolutely nothing of the order I so carefully uphold!"

He pulls back, seething through grit teeth, and snaps his hips forwards. You collapse on shaky arms, gasping in pain.

It hurts more than heartbreak, more than a bruise, more than a slap. Tears spot your lash line, threatening to fall with one more well-aimed, brutal thrust. Spidery fingers dance along your waist, tracing a line towards your neck. He grips your chin and forces you to look upon a crowd of terrified faces, all ogling with bated breath. Ace is watching and so is Deuce, albeit through the cracks in his hands.

"What did you hope to achieve—to prove—by defying me?" he demands, his grip a deadly vise. "That I could be in the wrong? That all I've worked tirelessly for, all that I've done, is wrong?"

"Riddle..." You wince in your futile attempt to pull away. "Riddle, please... I... I'm sorry, but please... You're hurting me..."

He turns your head towards him, eyes ablaze with a furious tempest, and he leans closer, pinning you with startling ease. His cock presses up against your insides, enveloped tightly in your walls, and you shudder through the discomfort and the agony. A single claw traces dangerously close to your jugular.

"Speak up if you have something to say!"

"It hurts!" You gasp again, outright sobbing now. "It hurts! Please..."

"It's a punishment," he sneers, glaring disapprovingly. "It's meant to impart a lesson—one learned through pain. If you understand this, stop sniveling and respond appropriately."

You're not sure which is worse: humiliation at the hands of someone you considered a friendly acquaintance or the fact that, no matter how villainous he may be, you only wish for him to return to himself. You'd never wish this fate on anyone, but maybe it's your too-big heart that makes it impossible to hate him. You don't hate him. You can't.

And perhaps that's the worst part of all this.

You hang your head, defeated and devoid of hope. "Yes, Dorm Leader..."

And so he teaches you and all those who witness the devastating spectacle a lesson neither will ever forget.

Red is passionate and fiery, a reflection of roses and redamancy. But it is not a pleasant color. Not anymore. Not in the aftermath.

Red is the color of Riddle and Heartslabyul and blood and pain and anger. And every time you spy the slowly healing marks from that day, you feel it all over you. Red everywhere, inside and out. Externally, you may heal with all matter of magical cures, but internally it's not an easy fix.

So red is no longer a comfortable color. You wish you could look upon it and admire it for what it is: a color. But that proves impossible, for a color that is so highly revered as pretty does not evoke pretty feelings for you.

[cr0wqui11]

I love embracing the “cringe” like yes I wanna look at xenogenders on pintrest while singing Memento Mori and I/Me/Myself at the top of my lungs and nobody can fucking stop me