#and probably makes no coherent sense

[sniperct]

hullo! I suppose I've just been curious about Ithilrin, your elf OC. How did she get started? What universe(s?) is she a part of?

So for years my wife and I have taken our LOTRO characters and played and RP'd with them in various AUs and universes before we started to write something original with them (in a sort of technomagic type setting with fae, elves and humans(there's a human city that's more advanced in tech and certain kinds of magics, while the fae courts are high magic with some tech, and the elves are more like wood elves and traditionally naturey. But are related to fae. There are also dark fae which play an important role), along with air aspected dwarves). These are elves and rangers and regular folks who all kind of became interconnected over time playing the game and writing them.

And as we were writing some of this in that setting she just kind of popped into my head and announced her existence as the younger sister of two of our elves (granted she's still many thousands of years old, 8200 in LOTRO, 2800 in the original setting)). She ended up filling in some key missing bits in their backstory and is now firmly one of my favorite OCs. Everything tends to revolve around her siblings and her (and their immediate circle which ended up with several polycules)

So was easily backfilled into LOTRO and quickly spread to other MMOs I play lol this got long. But her most filled out settings are LOTR and the original universe. I don't actually play her in FF14 but she's a viera there, I did roll her up.

In the original setting (which is super self-indulgent ngl) she was presumed to be dead for a few thousand years, due to being run through by her father but had been revived from near death and working with a group that was uh, they do a kind of ritualistic sex work. Magic that improves the harvest and the planting, and also a lot of general therapy type stuff. (in hindsight, the companions from firefly and Inara in particular may have played a subconscious role in developing Rin).

Because of that and assorted past trauma's she's a champion of consent/safe words, and a very do-what-you-want-but-don't-harm-others kind of person.

In most settings she's a noble at best (in LOTRO she's the High Elf race, specifically a Noldor from Valinor. High Elves in LOTR are those that saw the light of the trees).

In the original setting she and her siblings are the heirs to the Lunar court and also aspects of assorted concepts and gods. Her brother is the chosen of war, her sister is death, and she's chosen of the moon. Chosen in this universe act as both high priestesses and also vessels of their goddess(sun/moon/various seasons, etc) and will all eventually replace their goddesses by taking their power into themselves, but as themselves rather than being deities themselves.

So right now she's the Queen. Her brother is older but he married the Sun chosen so is king there now. Her sister was removed from the line of succssion. I could go into all the other characters (like the mermaid pirate captains and the messengers called the Crows and Lomea the Queen of the summer court who long time followers may have seen in other forms ;) Or Rin's brother in law who has the gift of seeing the past clearly.

And then there's the heir to the abyss who's mother is the mother of monsters and rules over the city that is the last safe place for the dark fae and adheres to darkness doesn't necessarily mean evil)

So they need to replace their gods and then kill God himself because he keeps 'restarting' time since nothing goes right and there's always darkness. So that'll be fun. Oh but first they have to kill their father, who's basically satan, three times as was foreseen. And then the fatesinger (this was before endwalker lmao) will speak and undo the world so they can sing in a new world, imperfect, but a world of their choosing. And darkness must exist for there to be light, etc etc. The mother of monsters is very invested in making sure there's room for her and her kind in this world. (and they have to kill god before remaking the world, or before he remakes it, of course)

(Illidan voice: I AM MY SCARS)

Her lover is an elf who's a wolf-spirit/shifter and said shifter's twin sister is also often involved, while also being with the Summer chosen maiden.

(My PFP is Ryscewen, aspect of Chaos, and one of the few who remembers the worlds that came before. (She started out as Fox in another original setting my wife created many years ago that we would like to also finish some day) her love is raven, who is the fatesinger who cannot speak because if she does it will kill those around her. Hence when she speaks it will end the world)

She became, in a way, a vessel for exploring darker and more taboo subjects

[sweetlullabyebye]

Charles' thing is that he wants to feel alive and that's part of the reason why he decided to never move on to the afterlife right? Meanwhile Edwin thinks Charles will move on and that he'll be alone again because 'he isn't good with people'.

But then when the Night Nurse shows up a second time Charles is ready to go wherever -including Hell- as long as Edwin shouldn't have to go back there, meanwhile Edwin refuses that they be split up, and both are okay with being sent together to the Lost and Found Department to be sorted out later as long as they're together-

[houseswife]

I love how neferiously hugh laurie delivered his lines in that 5x1 scene where house is blackmailing wilson. because the dialogue could’ve been conveyed in a manner that was obviously facetious and unserious (like the way RSL was playing the scene: “You’d jeopardise a patient—? 😒🙄) but he literally chose to go “If it keeps you here😈👹” in the most deadass, diabolical tone. so the result is that we have house sounding like a genuine psychopath as he threatens to let a woman die and then wilson proving he’s an even BIGGER one by responding with, like, mild exasperation at best. 10/10 dynamic no notes

[kimasousparky]

i post one (1) little luiasy doodle and suddenly im like "WAIT i've seen a lot of people drawing mario giving fire flowers to peach. what if luigi gave superball flowers to daisy???" djfbjfngk

[demonslayedher]

Well... after spending most of my day languidly sighing about having to wait for more content but how much that content is gonna hurt, I did my rewatch with a friend and we spent about an hour pouring over every detail of it and how good it was, as well as our apprehension about the pacing of combining other content into movies. As much as we'd love to see a return to a 60 episode anime arc for the sake of momentum, we come to Ufotable expecting quality, and they wouldn't decide to do this unless they had a plan for how to make it quality. Try though I might to guess how and where they'll split this into three movies, it's all guesswork (heck, maybe they'll even switch the order of things around so that Douma's defeat comes before Akaza's for the sake of a more complete-feeling movie.

But the thing that makes me most sad about the announcement, now that it is official and not just a rumor, is that I don't know how long I have to wait.

And what will I get at the end of this wait? The death I fear watching the most, and they're gonna make me go through that in the theater, and not even at the end of the movie. That's gonna be almost right at the start.

Phew. Anyway. We really did gush and gush and gush and gush about everything that was so good in this episode, and it's because of this that I trust Ufotable (mostly). There is SO MUCH to gush about it, and it doesn't just come down to the slow-mo explosion and use of color to show how healthy Muzan is in comparison to Kagaya and the layering and timing of images and sound, but also just what the editorial decisions did to take Gotouge's characterization and make it unmistakable.

It's such a good reminder than what has kept me so deeply in this is the characters themselves, the layers going on between what we're given. Like, Kagaya only being able to trust Himejima with this mission, knowing there is a possibility Himejima will have to hold his own against Muzan, for who knows how long, and how is touched by Kagaya's faith in him, and how the unsurprising realization settles that this will indeed be a fight until sunrise, and the relief as well as the pride he feels when the other Hashira assemble so quickly, and the way his voice cracks when he announces who they are looking at? And nobody else made that connection except for Tanjiro, for their thoughts were so wrapped up in either holding out some desperate hope that their master might respond to them calling out his name like Mitsuri and Iguro, or like Sanemi consumed with the thought this demon, whoever he is, killed their master, for again, only Tanjiro who smelled the explosives seems to realize right away that this was on purpose? And the fact that Kagaya thought through every one of those five Hashira, and decided one by one that he couldn't tell them his plan? Even Shinobu, who herself has the very same plan and has discussed it with Kagaya, cannot be entrusted with the knowledge that he plans to use himself as bait. And that Kagaya, for every word he said, he was very consciously stretching that out, second by second, knowing that any extra innocuous thing he can get Muzan to listen to, whether it be prattling about tigers and dragons or asking Amane what he looks like, is going to save his children precious seconds of having to keep an onslaught going until sunrise. The little touches of characterization, like drawing us in to wonder if Zenitsu is sleeping and then revealing that no, indeed he is not, and the fact that Nichika and Hinaki had to choose to go outside, to a courtyard where a stranger was already standing, to start playing and do their best to play up their innocence for the sake of adding seconds more of distraction, and the way Kagaya turns toward Amane in the very last second, and Giyuu looking for Tanjiro as they fall, and despite everyone else stuck in free fall or smacking into things, Tanjiro, the only one who has seen Muzan before, is the only one to find his footing, is such a good main character moment.

And the "people's feelings are inextinguishable" moment among candlelit graves? Thank you. I had been thinking about those graves ever since we didn't see them in any of Muzan's strut through the previous episode.

Okay, speaking of linking images with sounds and lines, the fact that Kagaya brings up how Muzan hasn't been forgiven for ruthlessly taking away others' lives, and how it focuses especially on Hinaki and Nichika, whom Kagaya has already chosen to do the same to? And the hot linger of slaughters innocents represented by all those toy balls? AND HOW EVERY MOMENT MADE US MANGA READERS FLINCH AND THINK "NOW IT BLOWS UP"? Yeah, that was good.

Also, Japanese Netflix did not include the Taisho Secret. I don't know if this extra-secret Taisho Secret was only available on FujiTV or something, but when it comes to the mood this episode set me into, I'm glad I didn't initially see it. While I'm generally happy it exists (and I've been hoping for this kind of content ever since the previous season), I wish they would have had a little more restraint to make it sweeter. But hey, it was still sweet and I bought a sweet potato today for obvious reasons.

[solcorvidae]

I've been thinking about how Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt all deal with the trials and how it shapes them into the people they would grow to become.

Lambert remembers his past. He is angry, upset, bitter, and vindictive. He's got this fire in him that is only stoked by the pain and suffering forced upon him. He remembers the boys who did not make it: the hell they all had to go through, and he has a complicated relationship with Vesemir that surrounds it. Lambert does questionable things that Geralt is bothered by in his grief and anger. Geralt calls him out for killing in cold blood, needlessly and mercilessly.

Lambert avoids Vesemir at Kaer Morhen and mocks him when he is not around. He may come off as childish and like an asshole, but Lambert knows what he feels. Lambert doesn't lash out because he can't control his emotions or because he doesn't understand the path of least resistance. He knows. He chooses to avoid conflict with Vesemir at Kaer Morhen by keeping out of his way. He knows he can't control his emotions effectively if he is face-to-face with him for too long. He knows, and he isn't stupid.

Lambert talks to Geralt about the trials and the injustice of it all. He probably looks up to Geralt, hoping his brother feels just as angry about it as he does. He went through the Trial of the Grasses twice for Christ's sake! Why is he not more angry? Why is he so apathetic?

And Geralt brushes him off time and time again. Such is life, is his attitude. We all went through it, he says. Geralt can't be upset because there is nothing he can feasibly do about it. He didn't choose to be a Witcher. He wouldn't have chosen this life. He would have some other job somewhere else, just like he told Regis. He can't change the past. He can't go back and fix something he never had control over in the first place. Besides, they can’t inflict the trials upon a new generation of kids, not anymore. It’s in the past now, so why dwell on it? What’s done is done and thank god no other kids have to suffer the way they did. It’s over. It’s time to move on.

Geralt doesn't enjoy fame. He tells Eskel this in To Bait a Forktail. Geralt is the famous twice-grassed White Wolf. He is The Witcher. The famed Geralt of Rivia. He has expectations piled upon him the size of mountains. He's got to be the perfect Witcher, he's got to be a loyal brother, a lover, and a best friend… Geralt had expectations put upon him that set him aside from the rest since he was a kid. He hates it. Underneath the banter and the wit, Geralt accepts that this is his life, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He tolerates it because it is his reality and nothing more. If he thinks about it for too long… maybe it will consume him.

"You remember her?" he asks Eskel about his mother.

Unlike Lambert, Geralt hardly knows what it means to live another life. He doesn't have that following him like it does with his brother. What little he remembers is not enough to erase the apathy drilled into him at such a young age. Maybe he has a more strict moral code than say, Lambert, (or if you want to bring in the other Witcher schools, most of the Cats and the caravan) but that doesn't make him the most ethical person on the Continent. How could you be? After all that he has endured, the things he was taught? Where do you draw the line? He kills monsters, but like in Velen, it's hard to see where the line's drawn in the sand.

Humans are monstrous too.

Eskel, however? Maybe he's jealous. He did everything right, why shouldn’t he be? He is superiorly skilled in magic, one hell of a good Witcher. He has a reputation for it. Maybe he's not as kind as your average person, but he gets the job done. He's got a more relaxed demeanour than his brothers which reveals itself in his reputation. He's reliable. He is damn good at what he does. So why does Geralt get all the attention? The fame? He clearly doesn't want it.

While Lambert got turned into a vindictive prick and Geralt became a quick-witted nihilist, Eskel? He's exactly who he should be. Why shouldn't he be praised for it like his brother? Why should he be forced to bend over backwards to accommodate people and keep up with his reputation? For what? His skills? Ha! He lives in the shadows of Geralt who's notably a good Witcher, but he's not quite as good as Eskel.

Eskel was beaten shaped into the man he is today because of the trials, his training, and everything else. Should he not get credited for that too? Why does someone who doesn't even want his fame get all the recognition? Genetic predisposition? Shouldn't his hard work be given more consideration and praise? Thank god Geralt survived the hell of being subjected to two rounds of mutagens rather than one, but why should that overshadow the efforts, the time, and the sacrifices that everyone else around him has made? Eskel is exactly the man that they intended him to be by the end of it all. He is an efficient hunter, he is outstanding with signs, and he works diligently for his reputation. He did everything right. He does everything right. Why is that not enough?

TL;DR: Lambert, Geralt and Eskel handle their traumas in different ways. Lambert gets vengeful, Geralt gets apathetic, and Eskel gets borderline jealous. (And it breaks my heart)

[mousemannation]

serious post time. concerning some thoughts ive had about zverev at LC. nothing too heavy but under the cut in case u just wanna scroll past.

i was talking to my mum about this and i think most of tennisblr share the same sentiment towards him so im not gonna be saying anything too radical. Its also not going to be super concise because im mostly spitballing here.

I was just thinking about how we talk about him and how we as a community navigate his presence on tour. I know that there's a vindictive joy that comes with seeing him lose that's especially potent since he basically got away with domestic violence scot free.

Seeing him lose is a good feeling because he clearly cares a lot and it feels like winning that he's upset, but it also doesn't actually mean anything in the scope of things. Obviously on some level if he lost enough he would no longer be relevant but it's inescapable that he is, unfortunately, very good at tennis. He's number 2 in the world. Call him a choker all you want, he's still vastly more successful that 99.9% of all tennis players.

But it's also just sport- a game. It's not the outcome of the match that amounts to anything outside of a very small community of people; its the celebrity, the money and clout and hero worship. The fact of the matter is it doesn't make a difference to the women he abused if he wins a match because he still abused them and he is still famous. He will always have been famous, even if he retires tomorrow. They will still interview him, laud him in press, put him in ads.

I just sometimes think- what right do I have to feel vindicated by his losses? To weigh his literal actual crimes against the outcome of some silly ball game? In a perfect world he would not be playing, he would be banned by the ITF and shunned publicly by his fellow players. He would not be invited to Laver Cup.

I won't say I don't look at tournament draws and hope for his early loss, but at least at tour events that means an early exit. I can't find it in myself to care if he wins or loses at Laver Cup, not really. Because he will still be there, he is still part of the team, he is still on the bench. It doesn't matter if he wins because he's still an abuser people paid thousands of dollars to watch play a game.

[dotmander]

you know, i see a lot of people criticizing the final fight with zhaitan. some people say that it's annoying to play (fair and true; i usually have to get someone to keep mobs off me while i'm on cannons, or vice versa). some people say they wish we got to actually FIGHT zhaitan, rather than just shooting cannons at him. some people say it doesn't make sense, with what we later learn about elder dragons having weaknesses - har har, zhaitan's weakness must have been a Big Fucking Cannon, right?

but like

we take him down with a bigass cannon, yes, but. we're not the only ones shooting. the pact is there, physically, on the ships with us; but all of tyria was in the hands that shaped the metal and enchanted the crystals and built every SINGLE piece of that ship

plus - trahearne, the scholar, who was not made to be a marshal but picked up the sword regardless, who rallied the orders that had been fighting for as long as they had existed, who failed his quest but did not give up, who dreamed of orr, green and growing -

zhaitan is the dragon of death and shadow. where it flies, misery follows. but what is a dragon, in the face of the world standing together as one? what's despair in the face of hope? what's death and decay when there's still someone dreaming of a better world?

to me, that is the thesis statement of this story: reach out a hand to others. lift other people up. don't give up the fight just yet. so. of course we need to rely on other people to watch our back. of course we need someone to cleanse orr and strike at the dragon to weaken it. how could this story end any other way?

[harukaboo]

*Penacony Spoilers, Self indulgent, selfship coded if you squint maybe? Also probably doesn’t make sense I can’t think*

I feel like Sunday with a s/o with chronic pain would be such a interesting dynamic. Doesn’t even necessarily have to be yandere Sunday cause he’s already got the savior complex-

iirc Sundays whole thing is feeling like people should abandon reality and live in the dreamscape because there’s no suffering, I think having an s/o that has chronic pain would really feed his his delusions that they’d be better off forever in the dreamscape

For yan Sunday, if his darling actively disagreed and told him he was wrong for wanting to keep them in a dream *chefs kiss* I love this delusional ass man

[glitteringdepths]

had some brainworms about transfem furina.... can anyone hear me.

i feel like this would have really interesting implications in her story, much as she loves acting, but struggles with it due to the 500 years she spent being forced to act, would being a woman be the same for her? she doesn't know where the act ends and where her actual identity begins. is she a woman because she wants to be, or just because she had to be one. even if she enjoys it more than the alternative, does she actually enjoy it? or is it just because she was one for so long that she enjoys it?

i can imagine that focalors likely didnt care much about her identity/presentation as archons have been shown to be able to change their forms at will basically, but furina is the human counterpart of focalors. she doesn't have that ability to change herself just like that. i imagine gender identity would be much more important to a human, especially one that must keep up an act at all times, than a god, and thus something that would affect her. something she would think about. a lot.

maybe post-prophecy, she would experiment. figure out if femininity is in fact something she wants. maybe she would try to go back to being "cis" and then realize it wasn't right for her. and i imagine that she would flourish more being able to properly express her femininity rather than doing it just because it was apart of the role.

[manynarrators]

Armand & Newton’s First Law

Inspired by @sleepdeprivedsurgeon ‘s post about Armand as a caged bird, and an idea I’ve had for a few days.

Armand is basically the perfect example of a metaphorical character use of the physics concept of Newton’s first law, the “objects at rest/in motion will remain in such a state unless acted upon by an external force”. If it’s at rest it stays like that, if it’s in motion it will continue in straight, perpetual line with no changes in speed/direction. Forgive me the slight foray into basic physics!

On Earth, in terms of actual physics, there’s no good applications of this. You can’t keep going up because of gravity, you can’t go sideways because of friction. These are constant forces acting against an object.

But as for Armand, I would posit these two forces are freedom/agency and his immortality.

For the average person, we all know our time is limited, so we do what we can in what time we do have. Sometimes we get stuck in a rut, but often we can find a way out of it. See the combination of mortality and agency?

Whereas for Armand, he exists on these straight lines. You give him a cage, you give him a status quo, and it will be maintained so perfectly, even when the person who put him in the cage is long gone. The external force that set him on this path was already applied, their subsequent absence doesn’t change that. Additionally, there’s none of this innate agency that acts as one of the external forces. Additionally, he’s immortal, so the idea of having to do what you want in the time you have… doesn’t really apply. How can you worry about deadlines when there aren’t any?

Every object has gravity, but this is not enough to, on its own, alter its course. In much the same way Armand might help in attracting these world altering people to him, to help destroy his status quos, but he himself is not the force with agency.

See also: the idea of angels and trains.

[natjennie]

no actually because remember that post I made about button house physically mirroring the progress the ghosts and alison make as a family. and now I'm thinking about how s5 made that even more of a direct relation because like. fanny's whole poem about home and the idea that they are considering selling a chunk of the land just as the ghosts are nervous one of them is going to move on and then the selling of the whole estate is negated when julian makes his speech. oaauggh I need to read a million different things about houses as characters and places as reflections of their inhabitants god

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 21 - 4:00 AM

prev - chapter 1

"Hosah, what the fuck was that.." Shouting turned to confused muttering as the voice from behind him approached hurriedly, before stopping dead and asking, "What are you doing?"

It was a good thing the shifter hadn't opened the second bottle of beer, as he was intending to do, by the time Teddy got there. Instead of answering him, Hosah turned back, offering him the drink and a seat beside him whilst he was at it.

The pair sat in silence for a little while, neither of them necessarily being uncomfortable despite the obvious tension that practically radiated off of them like steam.

"I looked all over for you, you know. I've never ran that much in my life." Teddy tried to laugh, but he was too out of breath and frustrated to even push out a fake one.

To say it was a beautiful night would be an understatement. Despite it very nearly being November, the weather wasn't too bad at all. The air was still fairly warm, the cold breeze feeling much more like a refreshment than a nip at the tips of the shifter's fingers. He just wished the previous events of the day hadn't spoiled such a night. Hosah leant back on the bench, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and quickly saying a prayer in his head before turning back to face the fire.

"I'm sorry."

Teddy shrugged, "It's okay. I needed the air."

"Not that. Well, that too, but, for everything. I'm a dickhead." The shifter put his elbows on his knees and began to pull at his hair with his head hanging low, something he'd realised he did a lot when he wasn't particularly feeling his best. "I don't know what to do. How to get better. You were right. I'll... I'll take your help, really this time."

"You don't need my help. You need your therapist's help. How come you've been lying to me about going?" The fact Hosah couldn't tell just what Teddy was thinking or feeling n through his voice alone was something that frightened him.

"... I don't know." Hosah lied, partially. He did know, he just wasn't sure how to phrase it without it sounding too pathetic and self-destructive.

The shifter kept his head forward, straight down in front of him, his palms sweating as he gripped the fabric of his pants, like they'd fall to pieces upon release. Another hand, fairly larger than his own, fell upon his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, before its owner spoke up;

"You don't have to give me a reason, just... What are you thinking? Or, feeling, if that's any easier." Teddy's voice was reassuring, although his addition just confused the shifter even more. "You can be completely transparent with me, I'm not gonna... Judge you, or lecture you, or give you any unsolicited advice. Unless you want me to."

Hosah didn't say anything for a short while, taking to pulling his hair as if that would make him think any harder.

"I don't want my body to change, I don't want my mind to change, I don't want my life to change, I don't want to get better." The silence that followed after his admission was another thing that frightened him.

Teddy sighed, loudly and dramatically, swatting Hosah's hands away from tugging at his hair before grabbing a tuft himself, pulling the shifter's head up from the shaking hands to look back over at him, "It'll be okay. I promise."

The grip Teddy had on the shifter's hair softened as he brushed it back and out of the direction of the wind, until he'd decided to just go for it, bringing his arms around the head and pressing it carefully against his shoulder.

"It's not easy, I understand that, I got a bit too emotional before, I could've been more patient with you, I know. It's gonna be okay though. You might be scared now, but it'll be worth it in time. You just... I wish I could give you all the time in the world. That I could just pause and make everything stop for a bit. I just need you to be honest with me from now on, even if it's just in little ways, I need to know if something is bothering you, you don't have to hide anything. I just wanna be there for you, help you, understand you, anything you need. That's what I wanna do."

The response was so perfect, it was almost robotic. That was a problem Teddy had to work on, actually. In his few hours of being completely isolated with his thoughts, he'd come to realise that Hosah had more or less been a problem for him to solve rather than a person for him to understand. Ridding him of all his issues was the main goal at hand, which is probably why it was so frustrating to watch the man do and say things that weren't as straightforward and reasonable as they seemed. He'd thought of all the ways to approach the subject, the words he'd use, how Hosah would theoretically respond if all was to go to plan. Planning your interactions out in your head before they happen usually isn't as helpful as it seems, but it was a habit Teddy had been doing subconsciously his entire life, even when he actively tried not to.

As he sat with the shifters head in both of his hands, playing with each strand of hair he could grasp onto in the moment, Teddy wished so desperately that he could just tear right into his brain and look at what went on inside of it. Swapping consciousness and memories with another person was something Teddy often prayed science would evolve to be able to do seamlessly, although he'd probably take the risk of a few scratches and bumps just to experience what someone else's mind was like, even if it was just for a moment, so he could take that knowledge back to his own body and keep it in mind for every interaction he'd further have with the person at hand.

"It's just frustrating when you try cover up what you're actually thinking and feeling with jokes. I want to understand you better, that's all." Teddy brushed his hands through the hair as he spoke, continuing to ramble without letting the shifter get a word in just yet.

He felt a little bit hypocritical lecturing Hosah like this, as if he himself had been all that honest about his own thoughts and feelings about everything either, but he could face the consequences for that later. Right now, what was most important was getting the shifter to understand how desperately he needed his cooperation.

Teddy had always wanted to fix people. It was the entire reason he studied psychology in the first place, the original plan being to become a therapist and give people straightforward solutions for their straightforward problems. During his time in college, however, was when he learnt how not at all straightforward most problems were, especially in regards to one's mental and psychological state. He didn't understand why Hosah didn't eat, it was obvious that the act in itself was self destructive, but he didn't push for an answer to this question, despite how badly he wanted to.

The handfuls of hair Teddy once was able to brush his hands through became less and less in the passing seconds, as did the weight of the shifter leaning against him, until a single hand could cradle his entire body in the spot just his head once sat. Knowing Hosah felt safe enough to shrink at will around him sent an excited rush through Teddy's body every time, one that made him feel incredibly heavy with guilt as he'd end up making the comparison between himself and the likes of Arthur Emily. The last thing Teddy wanted to do was to make the shifter feel like he was taking pleasure in their power dynamic.

"I don't know how else I'm supposed to open up to you, to be vulnerable with you." Hosah finally spoke, struggling against the fabric of the giant's coat until he'd been adjusted to sitting in an open palm in-front of Teddy's face."Just ask me what you want to know and I'll tell you. But you're gonna have to do the same for me."

Teddy thought for a moment as his eyes scanned over the shifters body. He desperately didn't want to admit of his own fear of opening up, of his past experiences defining what Hosah thought of him, he wasn't the person he was when he was a child, in fact, he wasn't the person he was the day before he'd met the shifter. The Teddy that Hosah knew was a perfectly planned, cherry-picked idealised version of himself. He was happy being Teddy, and not Edward.

The giant's gaze lowered back down to his shoes, the same pair Hosah had used to stand on a little over a week ago whilst they danced in the streets. The memory itself brought a soft smile to Teddy's face.

"Okay, deal." Teddy sighed, bringing his other hand forward to graze his fingertips across the surface of the shifter's impossibly small head. As almost perverted as it made him feel, he'd probably never get over how euphoric it felt to hold an entire person in the centre of his palm like this. "My first question, what do you think we should do about that thread of posts?"

-~-

As much as it pained him, Hosah didn't know anyone else quite as knowledgeable on computers as the security guard. The shifter stood by the keyboard as the pair of giants looked back over the posts, his eyes squinting suspiciously at the individual sitting in front of him, Scotty.

"Isn't there a way to see where the computer it was posted from is?" Hosah walked over towards the mouse, where Scotty's hand rested,  staring up at his own reflection in the glare of his glasses as he spoke.

"Mm, usually there would be, but there's no way this guy isn't taking precautions to avoid that. You know what a VPN is? That's like, the bare minimum to protecting your privacy on the internet. I highly doubt that even if we could get an IP, that it'd be accurate." Whenever Scotty was actually speaking seriously about something he was interested in rather than trying to be funny in his weird, semi-offensive way, he wasn't actually so bad to be around. "Besides, this websites whole gist is anonymity, best thing I'd recommend you do is make an account yourself and try get into contact, go undercover and shit. Don't even know if this is the guy yet anyway."

"Right." The gritting of Teddy's teeth could be heard in his voice, the shifter had never seen such a bitter expression on his face.

Hosah looked between the two, Scotty sitting at the desk in front of him, and Teddy standing, leaning over to see from behind the chair. He didn't think there'd ever be a day where the security guard would be wilfully allowed into their apartment, but here he was, right in front of him. The shifter looked over Scotty with wary eyes, hesitantly examining his form with tense shoulders, as if he were prepared to run away, if it were to come to it. He watched for sudden movements, for him to jump out and grab at him, but alas, he was too transfixed on Teddy's internet discovery to really take any notice of him. Teddy himself, however, was taking great notice of him.

Ever since they'd argued a few days back, Teddy had been on edge. He'd find himself holding onto the shifter too tight, grabbing him too suddenly, keeping ahold of him even when he'd ask to be let go. It wasn't on purpose, of course, and he felt guilty for it every time, but lately, he'd found his mind had become so cloudy, that he couldn't quite hear the noise outside of his own thoughts. They were loud, and they were daunting. Ones that told him Hosah would fade into thin air if he'd let go, that he'd run away again, that if he didn't grab the shifter, someone else would, and there'd be no chance of getting him back. Teddy had never thought of himself to be a jealous person, but being so far away from the shifter, watching as Scotty pressed his fingers against his shrunken stature to shoo him away from the mouse so he could continue reading the text post... It was driving him crazy.

He'd found the words repeating over and over again in his head, that the person behind the letters, maybe even the posts, didn't know what they'd do with, who he'd presumed to be, Hosah- just that they wouldn't hold back. Teddy gripped the chair he leant against just a little tighter, his hands itching to reach out and hold the shifter, to never let him go, just incase anything were to happen to him. It wasn't the first time he'd felt so overwhelmingly overprotective, and he still felt the crushing weight of his guilt for his altercation with Jeanne after what he'd told the shifter regarding the state of the bodies. It made his skin crawl. Teddy wouldn't call himself a violent person, per se, at least not anymore,

"Careful." Teddy muttered, mostly to himself, as he watched the shifter stumble back from the push.

Scotty just laughed, an aggravating scoff that tightened the knot in Teddy's brow, "Relax. He's fine- You're fine, aren't you, Hosah?" He didn't even bother to glance over the shifter as he started to speak again, "Anyway, there's still radio silence from the police about getting that gun back to you. I mean, I'm no expert, but it's been like, a month, hasn't it? Can't take that long to check for any DNA traces. And they've just left you defenceless too."

The fact brought a grimace to Teddy's face. Hosah could answer for himself. Not that the, lack of, police's cooperation wasn't concerning too, of course, but Teddy just couldn't focus on that. He wasn't quite sure what to think at all. One thing that did cross his mind, however, was the proposal Hosah had made to him weeks and weeks back. It felt like years ago, and that is should've been around now that they'd be sitting on their porch reminiscing on these times. He wished to be able to give the shifter what he wanted, his cabin by the lake, firewood for the evening, a fish hand-caught to share for dinner, and most importantly, a clear sky at night, where all the stars would be visible. He couldn't believe Hosah was fine, until he himself could give all of that to him. There'd be no one else surrounding them, no one to fear, to worry about, just the two of them.

"Say.." Scotty began, pushing the wooden chair back and making a horrible squeaking, scraping sound against the floor as he did so, "Have you been back to check the apartment lately?"

It was only a matter of time before the security guard had convinced both Hosah and Teddy that they should absolutely go with him to check for any new notes. It wasn't like the shifter was particularly complaining, as he had been itching to return for a while now, his morbid curiosity lingering in the back of his mind, just waiting to get the better of him. Fear wasn't necessarily how he felt towards the situation, in fact, he was rather conflicted on the topic. He couldn't quite word exactly what it was that rushed through him whenever he was reminded of it, of them. Excitement wasn't quite right, it was more of a sort of guilty pleasure sort of thing. Despite the shame, there was a part of him that desperately waited and longed for more to happen, like in the build up before a jump-scare in one of those shitty horror movies similar to the one Teddy endured with him in the theatre, it kept him on his toes, anxious, preparing himself for something more to come, for something to reach out and get him. He'd almost come to accept it by now, that he was just waiting for the end.

"I don't think this is such a good idea." The voice vibrated against Hosah's back as he hung out of the pocket of whom it belonged to. That was one of the better parts about being tiny, all kinds of physical stimulants are amplified by a hundred, and the shifter had always quite enjoyed sensory overloads.

The pair sat in the back seat despite the fact the passenger seat of Scotty's dusty old car was vacant. Frost had began to settle on the windshield the night before, meaning it was far too cold to drive with the windows down, which was a huge shame given the fact that the hanging air freshener was much more intoxicating than pleasantly fresh. It was best to sit as far away from it as possible to avoid any kind of car sickness.

"What other choice do we have?" Scotty said with a smile on his face. The plan was to drive back to his house so he could 'prepare' , whatever that meant, and then they'd head to the complex and check briefly for anything of substance. A quick job, one the security guard would take an hour, that and a half at the absolute maximum. Hosah didn't quite know what he meant by 'we', as this case had absolutely nothing to do with him at all.

Teddy spoke quietly, seemingly being much more focused on the rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the car door, "Wouldn't waiting for the police to do a search be.. I don't know, safer? I already feel stupid for going the first time, going back a second just feels like we're pushing our luck."

"Don't.. Don't be a fuckin' pussy, man. Jesus." Scotty's attitude was a perfect confirmation that this was, in fact, a terrible idea.

The drive had been rather pointless after all, as it seemed fate, or maybe the lord, was on Teddy's side after all. The whole city was chockablock. Total gridlock. Scotty turned the radio up to louder than it needed be, grumbling all the while. "God dammit. This fucking city-"

A familiar voice echoed through the static. Ah, the pairs favourite radio personality. Arthur Emily was like a mould. No matter how many times you'd scrape him up, he'd reappear sooner than the last time.

Something held the city on standby, shooting for a new advertisement for some already sold out show. Using shifters that could grow rather than shrink only really went two ways, you either became a model or some other sub-category of celebrity, or you went and you fought for your country. There was no in between. A new experience, completely fool proof, stadiums that would fit almost a million people, all with great views as the performers were as big as buildings. People were honking from every direction as hi-vis wearing work men came by and personally spoke to every driver. Well shit. Talk about divine intervention. Praise the lord, Teddy thought as he stepped out of the car, much to the security guards dislike as he protested loudly. He followed the crowd that stood by the fenced off part of the city.

Weaving through the sea of stagnant cars, Teddy made it up close to whatever was going on. Sure enough, there he was. A giant. A real, actual giant, not like himself around Hosah, who had long been asleep as car rides in pockets usually did to him. He wasn't actually quite sure what he was doing standing there. There wasn't much of anything to really see. Instead of gawking at the giant, who turned every now and then to give out waves and smiles to the growing audience, he thought about Hosah. He thought about how everyone around him was in the same position as the singular person they stared at. That they were in that position every day of their lives, they just didn't care to take notice. Being giant was nothing spectacular, really.

"The fuck are you doing?" Scotty came to rest a hand upon his shoulder to heave for a moment.

Teddy didn't really know the answer himself, "Aren't you supposed to be paying attention to the road?"

"Nah, we're not gonna be moving for a long time. Everyone else has gotten out anyway." He spoke, still out of breath despite it not having been a very far distance to run, "Not much to see, huh."

"I don't get it." Teddy brought a hand up to his chest pocket, hovering hesitantly around it as to not wake the shifter, despite the fact he was quite the deep sleeper. "I mean, we do this every day. It's just... Perspective."

Scotty hummed, taking off his glasses to look up at the spectacle himself, "You know what I don't get? Shutting down the whole fucking city for this bullshit. They never heard of green screens? I mean, come on. Some gayass band's got a shifter, who gives a shit?"

"Thank you, Scotty, I think.. I'm gonna try walk back up to the office."

"That's like- three miles away, Edward??"

Teddy didn't really listen as he pushed his way back and out of the crowd, "I'll see you soon."

He hoped he wouldn't.

Teddy walked his way backwards in the direction they drove from. The line of cars all waiting to get to where they needed to be wrapped around the labyrinth of perfect squares that was the city layout. He wasn't sure what he was doing, what he was thinking, what was even going on, he just needed to get away. Away from Hosah's old apartment, away from the crowd, away from the prospect of something being there, waiting for them. Frankly, he was terrified. He couldn't take Hosah back there.

"Hey... cmon, wake up." He whispered, nudging the bottom of his pocket, waiting for movement. He needed everything to stop, for Hosah, for the world to come to a halt for a month or two. The shifter really didn't ask for much, not for anything at all, but Teddy still needed to give it to him, if he specifically wanted it or not.

Teddy had an idea. He needed to speak to someone. Not Jules, not yet. There was only one person who he knew for a fact would know how to go about it all.

He needed to get both himself, and especially Hosah, off of the case.

The shifter rustled in his pocket, "Mm, Where are we..? God- stop, stop letting me fall asleep here. My back, shit."

"I know, I know." Teddy instinctively went to pet the shifter through the fabric, before ultimately deciding that was probably too weird, even for him. "... Hey, I'm gonna... Let's go back to the office. Talk to Jeanne about that thing- about making an account and talking to the guy through that, the inside job."

"What. Jeanne doesn't know shit about the internet." Hosah hauled himself up so his upper half dangled out of the pocket.

"Not like that. Just, his opinion. We'd probably get into some kind of trouble if we didn't consult anyone about it before hand."

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Teddy managed to speed-walk a mile to the nearest subway station in ten minutes, give or take. He didn't stop to listen to whatever Hosah was trying to talk to him about, he just needed to get them off the case.

He knew Hosah was strong, he was capable, he could do it all and more all at once, but he couldn't let him. There was something inherently terrifying about knowing someone wouldn't stop at anything to reach, to hurt someone you loved, but what scared Teddy even more was the fact that there was something right in front of him that actively destroyed Hosah from the inside out.

As the shifter sat, essentially talking to himself out of the fabric of his coat, Teddy was reminded of the farm. He was ten years old, and there was nothing better to do than tend to the cats. Hosah reminded him a lot of that time, of how hard he tried to save every single one of them. His grandparents didn’t care what the animals got up to, as long as there were no mice, whether a few kittens survived or died wasn’t their problem. It was around then when Teddy stopped sleeping all together. He’d sneak out of the house and run all the way to the barn with a milk replacer he’d come to perfect. Condensed milk, water, plain yogurt, and egg yolks, heated up to around a hundred Fahrenheit. There was always one specific kitten that always came to mind when he reminisced on these days, one that refused to drink, Teddy tried all he could just to get her to accept the help, she wouldn’t survive the night without it. It confused him so much that he ran all the way back to the farmhouse to get his sister, and only then did the kitten actually cooperate.

He wondered if that would be all it’d take to nurse Hosah back to peak health. Maybe, it wasn’t the help the shifter didn’t want specifically, it was just the help from him, from Teddy. Jeanne would know what to do.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[tswwwit]

What are some ideas you have floating around that you don't have any plans on writing but like to entertain as a thought?

Many of them, in fact! Though they sort of vanish from my memory if I don't make a record of them, here's a few ones I jotted down when they came to mind.

For a domestic one: Bill thought he'd hate a lot of being married! Even though he loves Dipper, he thought he'd rebel against the chains of domesticity - and in some ways he still does - but one major benefit he's found is not having to be 'on' all the time.

No need to be perfectly performing all the time! No shoving around for social influence, no intimidation, or clever tricks. No commanding attention or taking up the room. Hell, there's surprisingly little upkeep! Bill can undo his tie and pick his nose and bitch about his day to someone who isn't bending over backwards to agree with him on everything. Someone who doesn't give him a weird look and sneer if he, god forbid, actually wants to sit down, read a book, drop the grin for an hour or two.

The concept in question is Bill's very first moment of great surprise. That when he isn't being the most charming, terrifying, and exciting guy in the universe, and just chilling out for like, five minutes, Dipper comes over and snuggles up to him on the couch, or wraps his arms around his shoulders and kisses the top of his head. And when Bill asks 'what was that for?', Dipper shrugs and goes 'eh, just felt like it'. It's both baffling and extremely compelling.

A short where Reincarnated Dip is Definitely Sure he's Not Gay!!! Especially not for this Hot Demon Man who is getting so close and touchy with him with his big smile and horrible wiles. Yep. Just keeping an eye on him to make sure he's not up to something Nefarious ™.

A discussion between Dipper and Bill where Dipper insists that Bill should understand this, or not do that, because, like. Y'know, Bill's a guy! There are guy things! Making Bill stare at Dipper like he's an idiot. He proceeds to informs Dipper how that's stupid for multiple reasons! First, that Bill's Not Human to begin with, his gender can't be put into a little box! And frankly, he never filled out the paperwork for his original one, come to think of it. Sure, he/him's fine, but c'mon, sapling, thinking of the whole shebang like a binary is dumb as hell. Now Dipper has to do some mental readjustment re: his own issues with masculinity/gender.

[simcardiac-arrested]

zavijava info PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!! PLEASEEEEE ZAVIJAVA COME HOME ... PLEASE .... umm um um ill tell you about umm . tma au im making for nastya if u tell me about her .PLEASE!!!!!!!

so she is definitely a star of some kind. i mean she is an angel but in that story in particular The Stars are kind of angels. like they’re otherworldly beings and they jus kinda hang out. cosmically. it’s a different dimension separated from the human one but like, obviously stars still exist for humans, they just don’t do anything crazy because the rules of the world dictate that their realities shouldn’t interact. angels can observe the other world from far up above yet they still exist on a different level. But tbh zavijava had never enjoyed the otherworldly ethereal whatever lifestyle—she just didn’t feel like she fit in there. she is a #1 humans fan though so she knows that’s where she’d fit in. so she does just that. she fits in perfectly :) and normally :) yay :)