#and then just did not record them for over a month

[senipsenipsenip]

Dipper sighed as he felt another pen crack between his molars. Great, Mabel was definitely going to make fun of him for the ink stains on his mouth when she got home. He could hear it now, Wow Dipper, I knew you were a nerd, but I didn't know if I left you alone you'd start kissing your homework.

Dipper sighed and threw the pen into the trash with the other three he'd already snapped. It wasn't fair - he spent the whole summer fighting monsters and saving the world, why did he have to learn the stupid Great Depression's effect on American Literature or whatever. He glanced at the calendar. Only a little over a month until winter break. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford had promised to try and make it back to Gravity Falls so they could host the twins for the holidays. Sure, they had only been on the open ocean for a couple of months, but the two of them decided it would probably be best to start with a shorter trip then build up from there. After all, despite their age, they were still rookies. Besides, there was nothing on the sea that would help jog Stan's memory other than Great Uncle Ford's questioning. Being on home soil would hopefully bring back some more of Stan's forgotten past.

Dipper's phone pinged. He frowned. That shouldn't happen. He had his phone on Do Not Disturb so he could finish studying. The only alerts that would still pass through were texts from Mabel, Grunkle Stan, or Great Uncle Ford. Mabel never texted when she was out with her friends, and it's not like there was a lot of cell reception out at sea. Curiosity peaked, Dipper unlocked his phone.

It was Stan. More specifically, Stan's boots on the deck of the boat. It was a video, and before Dipper could press play, three little dots appeared indicating Stan was typing. Dipper sat back and waited. It usually took Grunkle Stan awhile to type out his messages. He always blamed the too small phone screen, saying it wasn't designed for fat fingers and cataracts.

What does this mean?

Dipper frowned at the message. Was he asking Dipper to decode a message? Why wouldn't he just ask Great Uncle Ford? Unless...oh gosh was Great Uncle Ford in danger? Did they need help? Why wouldn't he call? Dipper turned his volume up as high as he could, pressing play with a sweaty thumb.

The video started on Stan's boots, but quickly shifted as Stan started pointing his phone at something on the...oh. The wooden planks Dipper had seen Stan standing on weren't the planks of the boat deck, they were floorboards for an outdoor patio. A patio that was full of people speaking...some sort of language. Something Nordic maybe. Geez, weren't they freezing? Maybe not because...Nordic.

The camera was pointed at the door separating the bar from the patio, specifically, the top right corner where a set of speakers had been hung. Oh, Dipper realized. He's trying to record the music. Dipper held the phone to his ear. Maybe Stan was trying to figure out a secret code in the lyrics? He was pretty sure he had told Stan all about that day when they saved Wendy from Robbie's horrible music. This sounded a lot different than Robbie's music though. It was way more upbeat and -

...comin' through, that girl is youuuu...

"Oh my God," Dipper groaned, letting his head fall to his desk. Of course. Of course that's what would be playing. Of course a Nordic bar would be blasting Icelandic Pop Sensation BABBA.

Now Stan's message made sense. He had heard the song and felt "The Itching". That's what Stan had taken to calling it when he could feel himself starting to remember something, but needed a little extra help making it make sense. Stan said it was because it felt like an itching in the back of his brain. Dipper was pretty sure he called it that because if he announced he had "an itch that needs scratching" it was always a fifty-fifty toss up as to whether he needed help with a memory or literally wanted someone to help him scratch himself. Sometimes it was both. Either away, Stan got a kick out of how many times he could trick Ford.

Dipper grimaced. Maybe he could get out of this one. After all, Stan doesn't need all of his memories...right? He could forget some of the more embarrassing ones.

It's a song by BABBA. He typed. It's called "Disco Girl." There. The fact Stan's going to know that Dipper can identify the song is embarrassing enough, he doesn't need to remember The Incident.

The three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Oh. OK.

Dipper sat his phone down. There. That was that. He didn't need to feel guilty about how Stan somehow managed to sound disappointed with two words. Besides, he had homework to do. He was a busy guy. Yep, not gonna think about it.

His phone pinged.

Made me think of you.

Okay. Starting to feel guilty now. Dipper sighed. Even over text message, he could hear the tone of voice Stan would say it in. That tone where he would say something like it was just a careless aside so that you wouldn't think he was taking something seriously, so then you wouldn't take it seriously, so that he could tell himself you didn't take it seriously because you thought he wasn't taking it seriously and not because you don't take him seriously or care about him seriously or -

Dipper frowned. Maybe these English classes were doing something after all. Apparently all of that fictional character analysis made him better at analyzing his uncle.

He could picture Stan now, having already sat his phone face-down on the table, wondering why there was some memory of Dipper that Dipper didn't want to share with him. Oh man, he probably thinks Dipper's tired of helping out with his memories or something.

That's because you heard me sing it once. Dipper wrote. That should be enough to jog Stan's memory a bit.

The three dots. Heard or saw?

Dipper groaned. Maybe Stan was just messing with him. He probably remembered the whole thing and was just trying to get Dipper to regale him with the story again so he could laugh at him.

Whatever. Dipper would be the bigger man.

Both. You walked in on me after I got out of the shower. You really need to learn how to knock, man.

There. That should be enough. Hopefully Stan and Ford will get back on the boat and see a giant Kraken or something equally as awesome so Stan forgets all about this conversation.

He exited out of their message thread and opened up his thread with Great Uncle Ford. Whatever "clever" joke Stan wanted to make at his expense would probably take forever to write. Might as well take advantage of the good cell service while he knows they have it.

Hey! Are you with Grunkle Stan?

Three bubbled appeared. Dipper didn't have to wait long. Ford was a surprisingly quick texter.

Yes, we're exploring the town together. I take it you're the one he's been texting?

Yeah. He had an itch. Nothing crazy, just a song he heard this summer he couldn't remember the name of. Okay, he probably could have told Ford. Especially after learning about the whole Kiss-Bot incident, Dipper's BABBA incident definitely didn't come close. But c'mon, wasn't Dipper allowed to have at least one family member who thought he had a shred of dignity left?

He smiled. Probably not. After all, he was a Pines.

Ah, that explains his behavior then.

Dipper frowned. Behavior? Is he okay?

Oh yes, of course. My apologies if my language was alarming, Stanley says I tend to word things "dramatically". He's simply trying to ask the table next to us if there are any music stores nearby. I didn't realize children still used physical CDs.

Wait. Stan is looking for a music store? Why specifically mention children? Dipper typed slowly, wording his questions as discretely as he could.

Oh? Is Stan looking for a CD?

The bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Dipper frowned. They reappeared.

Disregard my earlier message.

Oh they were definitely up to something. Two could play at that game. You don't live with a professional con man all summer and not learn how to get what you want out of someone.

Okay. Hey, Grunkle Stan showed me a bit of the patio. Can you send a video too? Would be interested in seeing where you are.

Of course. One moment, please.

Dipper sat his phone on his desk while he waited. Realistically, he should be working on his homework while he waits. It's not like he'll be able to focus on anything when Mabel gets home. But, it's not like he can focus on anything now, mind buzzing as much as it is.

After three minutes and fifty-three seconds, Dipper's phone pinged. He grinned and pressed play.

The video started pointing toward the other side of the patio. Made sense, Ford was probably sitting across from Stan at their table. Stan was nowhere to be seen though. He must have stood up to speak to the table next to him. Dipper could see townsfolk sat at their tables in heavy winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations, and while Ford panned slowly across the porch, Dipper recognized another BABBA song playing faintly in the background. The owner must have had a playlist going. There were fairy lights strung up across the porch, street lamps helping illuminate the night. Wherever they were must have been in the middle of some small town, probably no bigger than Gravity Falls.

"Ford!" Grunkle Stan's voice rang out. Dipper quickly held the phone up to his ear again. There was a loud metallic grating sound - probably Grunkle Stan pulling out his chair to sit down again.

"You're never gonna believe it!" Stan sounded excited about something.

"A moment, please, Stan," Ford murmured.

"We don't have to go to the music store! Those people didn't speak English but the guy who runs this place does a little. That internet translator did the rest."

"Google, Stanley."

"Whatever. Anyway, he said he'd sell me the CD he's playing right now when he closes up for the night."

"That's great Stan. Hold on a moment I'm just trying to film this for -"

"Dipper's gonna love this! I think. It's sort of coming back to me. I think that memory he helped me with, I think..."

Stan trailed off. Dipper pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the video had ended, but Ford was still dutifully scanning their surroundings with the camera. It looked like Ford had stood up, holding the phone high above his head to show Dipper the coastline beyond the porch railings.

"I think I told him I was proud of him that day." Stan's confession was quiet. But Stan quiet. Which meant loud enough to be picked up on Ford's camera.

Ford's movement stopped. "You did? Why?"

"Well. I sorta did. I think. He was tryna prove he was 'a man' or whatever, so I told him he was. He stood up for what was right even though no one else agreed with him. And then I think I uh...ripped my shirt off and showed him my chest hair. Maybe I should get him to fill in some of those blanks there."

Ford laughed. "I don't remember it taking much to get you to take your shirt off."

"I'm a gross, old man now, Ford. We'd all prefer if it stayed on."

Ford hummed. "So how much is the CD?"

"Eh, he wants like 500 Kroner."

"Seems overpriced."

"Well it's gonna be free."

Ford sighed. "Stanley..."

"What?" Stan cried indignantly. "He's obviously tryna scam me anyway! Besides, it's worth it. Dipper will love it! It's a CD of a band he likes from Iceland stolen from Iceland. Trust me it'll be worth the -"

All sound stopped. The video had ended. Dipper sat at his desk, a small smile on his face. He had been so worried about Stan remembering one of his more embarrassing moments but...Stan remembered it as a day that Dipper made him proud. Huh.

He exited the video and saw that Ford had sent him another message only a minute after sending the video.

Please disregard that video. Terrible audio quality, I have to retake it.

As Dipper began to type a reply, he saw three bubbles appear. He waited.

I'm going to infer that the delay in your response is because you didn't see my message in time and already viewed the video. My apologies, I forget how strong the audio quality of phone cameras are.

Three more bubbles.

Please act surprised.

Ah well. Dipper had omitted the truth a couple of times tonight. What was one more? He started to type.

Sorry, I was working on my homework while I waited for an answer. Guess I got distracted. Should I not watch the video?

Three bubbles. Ah, I see. Yes, that would be for the best. I'll take another video for you now. In the meantime, keep up the good work!

Dipper sat his phone back down on the table and picked up another pen. Might as well do a little more homework so he wasn't totally lying. But first...

He opened his message thread with Stan.

Need help with anything else?

Nope. Go to bed.

Dipper laughed. There it was. The curmudgeon was back, trying to hide the fact he was a big softie underneath.

It's earlier here you know. If anyone should be in bed, it should be you.

I'm old. I do what I want.

Okay old man. Love you!

Sap.

Dipper snorted and sat down his phone. A moment later, it pinged again. He glanced at the screen and saw it was another message from Stan. It was only two words, but they knocked together like flint and steel, lighting something warm in Dipper's chest.

You too.

AN: A continuation of this! I kind of just want to write a bunch of one shots going with this. Some ideas are brewing!

[hiddengiggles]

Let’s talk about consent and smart ways to play

Yes, consent can be revoked at any time. That’s normal and your boundaries should be reexamined regularly as part of your own check ins.

No, it doesn’t mean either party did anything wrong, it can just be a change of what either wants. Shaming either party for changing their mind serves no one. Don’t act like the person who was receiving the action is unfair or a “tease” for changing their mind. Don’t act like the person giving the action was bad or wrong for doing the thing for which they had consent at the time because you didn’t like it.

Yes, it’s awesome to be able to open yourself up and be vulnerable for different activities and kinks. When you don’t have a partner to engage with regularly, it can be thrilling to finally find a person to play with, I know.

No, blanket consent for EVERYTHING right from the jump is NOT a good idea. If you’re connecting with a play partner the first few times, start slow and expand. Feeling enough trust to give consent for some kinks can and probably should take time so uou can be really comfortably vulnerable

Yes, it is exciting to safely meet play partners from the online world when you are BOTH ready for it! When you’re safe about meeting (getting to know them slowly, setting a neutral meeting point, letting a few people know where you’re going and the name of your friend, etc) it can be a great way to get time with your kinks. When it isn’t forced, rushed, or for too long a time period, the organic connection can be magical!

No, you should not assume each party is on the same page unless you’ve communicated multiple times, especially in writing. If you had a phone call a month ago that talked about boundaries and assume all is well, you’re not actually playing safely. Some people write out rules, some BDSM players sometimes make it a “contract”, but a verbal conversation will not protect you or help you if worse comes to worst. This is especially important for partners still new to playing together. Record the hard conversations in some way.

Yes, you can start a conversation on boundaries and kinks with generalization. Example on my end, my husband and I both are okay with pictures and videos taken of us and posting them. In the early days of our relationship, we checked every time we played “Is it okay if I film this?” but after years together we’ve both agreed it’s okay to take them anytime, though we check with each other if we’re comfortable with what was captured regularly.

No, a general conversation is not enough. Continuing my example, we both have boundaries for ourselves and for each other to make sure we’re okay with it being posted (or sometimes sold). Earlier today, I put on a really pretty lingerie set for some birthday giggles. However, I stopped and asked “If you wanted to film this, would you be comfortable with me being seen in this publicly? Our usually boundaries call for a top and bottoms covering”. He paused, considered, and said no, so I put on a tank top and shorts too. Get specific with every aspect of your play, from your comfortable clothing levels, to where content can be posted, to areas you don’t want touched that day that you might normally be okay with otherwise. Assuming you already know the answer is not enough, say it again.

Consent is a lot bigger and more complicated than just this post, so talk about it A LOT with your partner(s). The biggest key to a good relationship in and out of kink (friendship, mentorship, romantic relationship) is to NEVER STOP TALKING. Communication is key, talk about your boundaries and consent over and over and over. They will change and grow, and so will you.

Mistakes and miscommunications will happen, but it’s important to talk about them like the grown people you are. A lot of consent issues with new partners aren’t malicious, they can easily stem from either party being unclear or simply not thinkinh to ask about something that could be a boundary issue. Unless it was a blatant “I KNEW the boundary and disregarded it purposely because I wanted to do it” situation, be an adult and talk about it. If you’re adult enough to be engaging in activities or kinks for adults, you need to follow through and talk about what went right and wrong. Learn and grow from the stuff you didn’t do as well before, accept responsibility for your part, and move on, with or without that partner.

[azurem]

(Warning for lots of yapping)

Would married inkmare have a wedding anniversary that they celebrate ? Or a dating anniversary for non-married!inkmare ?

My hc is that the first couple of years (if they make it that far) ink writes the date in his scarf but forgets about it until the day of/the day before. Nm plans ahead and makes it super romantic and evil. But with time they kinda stop being extra (nm has a hard time with that) and they meet up for a cuddling session with extra kisses.

For gifts, my hc is that that Ink ’’buys’’ a human made gift from an au, stores it in the doodlesphere, forgets that he already got a gift, gets another gift and stashes it. After a couple of months there’s a small pile collecting dust. The day of the date he apologizes to nm that he didn’t get him a gift (he did, he forgor) :( and the next day he pops into the castle and leaves a mysterious pile of gifts. (This happened at least twice). The other sans(es) don’t hesitate to steal two or three things >:). With time he has an easier time remembering and the pile isn’t as impressive.

Nm knows that his partner is going to/might forget about their anniversary, so he plans ahead and makes it really romantic. Like, over the top fancy and classy dark academia royal themed date. He mostly does it for himself because he loves being classy and dramatic and extra. He writes poems and plays music on his record player (that ink gifted him). For gifts, nm gives… actually I’m not sure what he could gift someone that can draw anything into existence ? Idk I can’t think of anything he could give him. Maybe he’d write him something extra extra romantic ?

Last thing is they ignore the 3 kisses per day quota, just for a day !

I have so many other things to add honestly I hate them sm >:(

I think celebrating anniversaries is kinda hard for them because time passes weirdly in the multiverse. I think Nightmare would try to keep track of the date™ (by snooping around in a "twin" of the branch of Outertale where they married and trying to figure out what day it was). Dating anniversary is. Hm. Hard?? I don't think they have a date where they officially started dating, but they def would celebrate the date of their ultimate truce™ instead hmmm

My headcanon aligns very closely with yours I see......! I like the idea that Ink would try to make the effort but legit forget that he already did DKJDKD Nightmare just overall carrying the romance™ is very much in character for my version of him, too...!

I think Ink would prefer acts of service rather than gifts, but he'd appreciate art materials all the same. Underfell merch too/silly. I think it'd be funny if Nightmare tried to compose him a little tune every time. He gets pretty smug whenever he hears ink humming it to himself hmmmm

Yea, yea. I think they invent the concept of negative kisses just for the special occasions™. Or maybe they keep track of days where they haven't seen each other and "recover" the kisses that couldn't be given???? Evil stuff id say

[conundrumoftime]

A note of caution for those in TROP fandom who were not around before s2: you cannot trust FoF on leaks. I mean you should take all leaks with a decent pinch of salt anyway, such is the nature of 'leaks', but FoF in particular have a record of presenting unsourced (and untrue) info as '100% confirmed'; of doing whatever will get them the most clicks and never mind if this has e.g. set one of the actors up to get a ton of abuse from the fandom racists on Christmas day; and on just not being able to tell the difference between "this is a thing we have heard" and "this is what we think that thing means".

Is the leak yesterday about TROP casting for a main character 'high-born knight' in his 30s true? eh. maybe. Did the casting call actually say it was TROP, or have they just assumed that? Is it actually a main character? who can say.

That said: if this is true I do hope it's Celeborn, because I want him to be in s3 (and also think he will be in s3, which - note, FoF! - is not the same thing).

(but. lord. I am not sure I am strong enough for 18 more months of tedious ship war slapfights over this elf. Some of us aged about fifteen years in the last mid-season hiatus! Please can someone start a really controversial yet believable rumour about anything else that'll have everyone focusing on that for a while? pleeeeeeeeeeease)

[home-sweet-hive]

ALTERNATE HUMANITY

A Field Guide to "Humanity Removal Therapy"

Part 2: Facade (ft. @dawning-mars )

This is a complimentary series to this system's other Animal HRT series; Black Arms HRT

Letter from your "Penpal":

Hey, very sorry about this part taking a while to come out. It's one thing for a comic to take a while, but I feel a little pathetic that it took me over a month to write this part out. Yeah yeah, "self deprecation isn't gonna get you anywhere", I know. Let me do things wrong sometimes. But hey, I did get it complete in time for the big Dragon HRT send off, so that's something I guess. Aik did a lot of being poetic and stuff yesterday with his Fish HRT fanart, I don't wanna bore you by doing the same. (Not like I have anything of the sort to say, anyways.)

Let's get on with the show. Thanks for reading and making the community what it is or whatever, I like writing about y'all.

WARNING: This part still has the Swearing, Mentions of Death, and the Untrustworthy Narrator/Main Character from last time, but also there are now Mentions of Cults and Violent Threats. Also just a general horror vibe, especially towards the end. Reader Beware.

Prev | Next (COMING SOON. HOPEFULLY.)

8:00am, February 9th, 2025

The following is an audio recording from Doctor Theodore H. Erian, transcripted into text;

“Eight in the morning, February the 9th. … Is that necessary? I’ll admit, I’ve never done something like this. I’ve had some patients of mine send in audio tapes for their transition journals before, for one reason or another, sure, but I’ve never made one myself. I… I just want to be vigilant.”

“That journal that I read a week ago… It still haunts me a little. I know, I know, I contort human bodies into resembling animals for a living, and a simple PDF sent to me via email is what keeps me up at night.”

“But in the days that have passed since I conversed with Doctor Fortune, I’ve been rereading those journal entries in between working with patients. I’ve been picking up on… Details. Unsettling details. The one that gets at me the worst is when the author mentions how the technology behind Animal HRT would ‘go to a much more important use’ if in their hands… Just what do they even mean by that? Furthermore, the author seems to work for a news station, but their descriptions in certain places throughout their entries suggests their workplace has responsibilities far beyond the scope of such a profession. They also seem rather close with and even have some authority over a pair of researchers from a laboratory, as if the two businesses are subsidiaries of another organization. The greater organization both the station and laboratory are under is probably the one Doctor Fortune mentioned in her emails, come to think of it.”

“But back to the point. The reason why I’m recording myself right now. The day that the journal suggested its author would come for me has arrived, and I indeed have several appointments on my schedule today. One of them being for a L. Black. I… feel like it’d be a breach of privacy to give their full name in this recording. But that patient does have the same first initial as the author of the journal, which is arguably the most important detail. I do have the full first name now, mind you, though I’m sure you’re not surprised to hear that the name was generic enough for me to get flooded with results from all sorts of different dimensions when I tried to look them up. In the end, I wasn’t able to get much information on them.” 

“The surname suggests a possible connection to the Black Arms, at least in my opinion. Soon before Doctor Fortune had approached me, I had been given a ‘notice of investigation’ by the Guardian Units of Nations. They’re trying to deter me from ever making or distributing an HRT for the Black Arms, and it honestly does seem similar to what Doctor Fortune is doing. In fact, I did try asking her a few days ago if she was affiliated with G.U.N.”

“She seemed rather offended by the question, chastising me for ‘comparing this situation to a video game plot’... Can she blame me? I work in and for a land between dimensions, for fucks sake…”

“But aside from that, I suppose all I can do now is… wait. Wait and see what Mr. Black does. What they… want.”

--

9:20am, February 9th, 2025

>Real time transcription from audio recording.

>Any typos or mistakes made are either L████’s or another ████████████████████████████████’s responsibility to detect and correct.

>Reminder: I am not a grammar checker, and my knowledge unfortunately relies on what is given to me.

[sound description: door opening, followed by a bell ringing, and the door then closing]

“Welcome to the TOHC Primary Care Center. Let me guess, you’re here for Doctor Erian?”

“Yep. I have an appointment.” 

“Do you now? Heh, most just waltz in here without so much as a 15 minute notice call…” “What’s your name?”

“L████ ████.’

“Thank you.”

[sound description: Tapping of keyboard keys]

“I see. You do indeed have an appointment with Doctor Erian, but you’re quite early, don’t you think?” 

“Am I now?”

“Yes. Your appointment is at noon. Did you mean to schedule it earlier in the day or…?”

“Noon is fine.”

“Good, ‘cause you wouldn’t be able to reschedule your appointment unless you changed the day outright.”

“Tch. Of course not.”

“You can go sit down in the waiting area now.”

--

9:30-10:30am, February 9th, 2025

Removed the recording of this section of time and the subsequent transcript made for it. Nothing of importance really occurred during this time, just people coming in and out of the building without much coming from that. Keeping it around was just unnecessary in my opinion.

--

10:40am, February 9th, 2025

Okay, here’s where things get interesting again~

[sound description: door opening, followed by a bell ringing, and the door then closing]

[sound description: distant talking, sound too far for accurate transcription]

[sound description: someone sitting down in a chair nearby]

“Oh, hello.”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t notice you there, hun!”

“Don’t sweat it, I don’t mind having someone to talk to while I wait.”

“Ah, alright…” “So… What is it that you’re waiting for?”

“I have an appointment with Doctor Erian at noon.”

“Really? I have an appointment with him too!”

“Heh. Doesn’t sound much like ‘waltzing in here with no notice’ to me.”

“Huh?”

“Oh right, sorry. When I got here the receptionist made a remark about most people treating the place like a walk-in and I found it funny how you’re proving her wrong.” “But it didn’t quite click in time that you wouldn’t have been able to know that context.”

“I see!” “That’s… comforting? Maybe?”

“Hmm?”

“It seems like Erian isn’t the only one around here that’s got a sharp tongue…”

“Is he… known for being harsh?” 

“From what I’ve heard, yeah…”

“That explains some things, then.”

“But anyways, what kind of Animal HRT are you hoping to get on?” 

“Oh, I’m not here to get myself a prescription.” “My friend tried to get on Cat HRT through him but was denied. I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh…”

“... Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I-”

“No, you’re fine, hun.” 

“... If you insist.” “Can I assume you ARE looking to get a prescription, then?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask for what?”

“A-ah, well… I know it sounds crazy, but-”

“No judgement from me, you’re in crazed company.”

“... I want to go on Eldritch HRT.” 

“Eldritch?”

“Y-Yeah. That’s… That’s what I want!”

“How interesting! Do you have a specific entity you want to be like? A cult you want to curate or join? Just how many so-called ‘eldritch entities’ across the realms are you aware of? Are… Are you-”

“I… Haven’t given it all that much thought, to be honest…”

“That’s fine! That just means you’re up for anything, right?” 

“U-Uhm… I guess so?” “You seem… really excited by all this. Are you a fan of eldritch horror too?”

“I guess you could say that~” “Oh-! Where have my manners been? I don’t think I got your name!”

“Did I not give it? Sorry about that, hun!” “Mars ████.”

“Nice to meet you, Mars! My name’s L████. L████ ████.”

“Nice to meet you too, L████!” 

“But back to the Eldritch HRT thing of yours – how many entities are you aware of?”

“Well, I do know a good bit of the writings of HP Lovecraft…”

“Is that it?”

“Is there more I should know?”

“Yes! But that’s alright, I can teach you everything you need to know. Let me just-”

“Mars?”

“That’s me!”

“Shit, is it time for your appointment already? Well maybe we can keep talking after you-”

[sound description: Mars walks off with Doctor Erian to his office]

–

She didn’t come back to talk to me after her appointment. It seemed that she was pretty upset as she left the building. Did she get rejected too? 

I hope to meet up with Mars again soon. 

I sensed some hesitation in her voice as we talked, but I just know she’d be a perfect fit for us once she learns about us and what we are.

But anyways, nothing of interest occurred in the hour after my conversation with Mars, so I deleted that section of recording as well.

Which takes us right to my meeting with Doctor Erian. 

What a mess that was…

--

12:00pm, February 9th, 2025

The following is a written recounting by Doctor Theodore H. Erian.

I had originally intended to audio record my meeting with Mr. Black, just like the recording I had made this morning.

However, the moment I saw him, I knew that I would have to get on his level, so to speak. Audio wasn’t going to cut it when it came to conveying the full picture of my experience. 

So here we are.

As I mentioned in my emails to Doctor Fortune, I had gotten many, many results when I looked his name up, but despite all that, he managed to look nothing like any of them in person.

I could sense I was being deceived, or perhaps even toyed with in some way. But I wasn’t sure in what way it was.

After having noticed that, I then took notice of a rather large bag they had slung around their shoulders. Looked to be a laptop bag, by my best guess. I of course remembered what Doctor Fortune had said to me about not allowing him to show me anything on his laptop if they offer, and so I readied myself to refuse anything of that sort.

But to my surprise, he didn’t even do so much as open the bag. 

Instead, when he entered my office, he just… stood there, looking around at the place. This went on for about a minute or two – I wasn’t keeping exact notice of the time.

At first, I had thought that they were eyeing the various types of medication I had stored. But once he opened his mouth, it became apparent that it was something else entirely that had caught their eye…

“Is that an RCA RP3503 shoebox cassette recorder and player you have back there?” 

My recorder, the one I had used to record my personal record from this morning, the one that I had intended to use to document this meeting… That had been what he noticed first.

It's a bit impressive that they identified the exact model, I must admit. Didn’t help with how much they intimidated me in the slightest, though.

“... Yes? Why do you ask?” 

I had responded. I didn’t want to come off as suspicious to him, but rather, just genuinely interested in the conversation. I couldn’t let them know I had seen their journal.

“It’s not often I see a cassette player in the wild these days. Damn shame, I know that phones and mp3 players are more modern and in ways more convenient, and the typical ‘retro throwback’ audio playing format of choice is vinyl, but I really do have such a soft spot for cassettes.”

Really, I was surprised with just how normal this starting conversation was. If I was to be conspiratory, I could even say that it was too normal, as if he was luring me into some sort of false sense of security with this mundane discussion.

“Do you now?”

I replied, allowing the conversation to carry on.

“Yes! Though, I’d rather not get too sidetracked with all that!”

I remember it felt like a pit had dropped into my stomach when they said that. Here I was thinking I could give myself some time to formulate how I was going to respond to him trying to get answers out of me by fueling this clear interest of his. But it seems that they had caught on to that plan of mine.

“The real reason I pointed it out was to ask… You’re not going to use it to record this meeting of ours… are you?” 

He then asked me.

I wish I had been able to somehow record this meeting on video, because I don’t know if words alone can describe the bone chilling aura that the look Mr. Black had given me as they said those words carried. Somehow, his face managed to darken in real time, a shadow cast over the top half of it that made it look as if his eyes were glowing at that very moment. They had tilted their head ever so slightly as they spoke, their face adorned with a subtle, yet noticeable grin, despite the seeming worry that the question carried with it. 

Considering my line of work, I’m quite familiar with the inhuman, and let me tell you – I saw that inhumanness in this man in that fleeting moment.

Despite wearing what looked to be colored contacts of some kind, I could see in his eyes a wildness that was inherently animalistic. 

I know what Mr. Black is here for, and I know it isn’t treatment. But if I hadn’t known better, I may just have been convinced to hand him a prescription right then and there.

Or maybe he is already something other than human. 

I said no, of course not.

“Good, good.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I responded to that remark by asking him if he didn’t like his life being documented. 

“What an odd question…”

As if I hadn’t already regretted my words the moment they came out of my mouth, I certainly would have after that reaction from him.

I was like Icarus in that moment, my wings equipped as I set myself straight towards the sun. I had pushed my luck too far, and they were catching on that I knew more than I should. Surely.

“But to answer it, I do actually like to document my life. But I much prefer it when I’m the one doing the documentation. I’m sure you wouldn’t be too fond of me if I took your chair right there and started giving people prescriptions and check ups, would you?” 

I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure what they meant by that comparison. He’s a news reporter, isn’t he? I do suppose in a way that is documenting lives, but that’s much more about others’ lives rather than their own, no? 

Either way, I shook my head no.

“That’s what I thought.” 

I really can’t tell why he was so surprised that “B” kiddo and Serena were intimidated by him. He has to be doing this shit on purpose to get a rise out of people.

“Can we get to the point of this meeting, please?” 

I requested. Maybe if I act just as intimidating, I’ll manage to evade ending up in whatever position he wants me to be in.

“Hmph. We may.”

He seemed unimpressed by my shift in attitude, his grin folding into something of a snarl. But he did oblige. 

“It is to my knowledge that a friend of mine, Serena Holmes, came by your office a little bit under a month ago seeking a Cat HRT prescription from you. You rejected her. Why so?”

Perhaps it was the frown they already had from their reaction to me making demands at him, but I could both see and hear the anger coming off of him that I had seen before in that journal of his as they spoke. 

No matter his motives, it does seem he cares about their friend.

“I had gotten a questionable result when I had run a-”

I answered. I knew it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t let them know I knew that.

As expected, they cut me off mid-sentence.

“No. I want the real reason.” 

Despite my patience being worn quite thin by this point, I took a deep breath in and began to formulate a response to Mr. Black. 

My goal, at least at first, had not been to actually tell him the truth. Rather, it was to make up a lie that was believable enough for them to take it as if it was the truth. 

As I did such, they spoke again, unknowingly giving me a hint as to what route I could go down with this lie of mine. 

“And if you are telling the truth, what was the ‘questionable result' you speak of?” 

Looking back, I should have made use of that hint in my response.

“Okay, fine! You want the real reason? I’ll give you the real reason! I turned Serena away because it was clear to me that she didn’t truly know what it was that she wanted!” 

He had raised an eyebrow at my response, clearly skeptical.

“How… interesting. She seemed pretty dead set on being a cat to me.” 

I honestly couldn’t tell if they believed me or not, but they did act as if they did.

“But I suppose my perspective was skewed.”

In a way, that did give me relief. 

Even if it was a ruse on his end, I could also go along with it and feel confident in my responses, at least for a little while.

“But tell me, Doctor Erian… If that is the true reason you turned Serena away… Then why did you tell her it was due to a background check?”

It was a valid question, honestly, and a hole in the plot I was constructing. Hence why I had said earlier that I wished I had just gone down that background check route he had given me.

“I… I didn’t want her to believe I did not believe she was truly therian.” 

With a bit of hesitation, I sputtered out that excuse.

He wasn’t buying it. I could tell by the glare he had given me.

“Then why not be honest with her? You could have explained that they had simply seemed too unsure of kitself to go through with the procedure. You could have given it advice as to how to do some soul searching so that she could come to find her true self. All these things you didn’t do… Why is that, Doctor Erian?”

Their eyes almost seemed to lock onto me as they questioned me. I was a target for them, lined up for slaughter.

Before I could even try to plead my case, he continued.

“To me, there are only two explanations for this. Either you are bad at your job, or…

You’re lying to me.”

With that final explanation – or rather, accusation, he stood up from where I had him sit and slammed his hands on my desk. To be honest, it shook me quite badly. It wasn’t just the delivery, either, the words cut terribly deep as well.

“So, which is it?”

Deep enough to cause me to make perhaps the stupidest decision I’ve ever made in my entire life.

For I had let my ego and reputation get the best of me.

“... I lied to you.” 

I so stupidly confessed. 

Mr. Black grinned, grinning wider than he ever had by that point of the appointment, as he let out a truly evil cackle.

“I knew it.” 

And with that remark, they pushed aside the chair that was behind them, and walked over to behind my desk.

I yelled out to him that he’s not supposed to be back there, but he completely ignored me as he rummaged through my personal cabinets.

They quickly found exactly what I was hoping they wouldn’t. 

“How curious…!” 

He exclaimed, holding the note Doctor Fortune had given me during my first ever encounter with her in his hands.

I felt like I could have died right then and there.

“Looks to me you know a bit too much for your own good, eh, Erian?” 

He then turned to me, a sinister grin still stretched wide across their face while they held up the note, turned over to the backside where she had drawn that blasted symbol.

I wanted to say something at the time, I really did. But I must admit, I was petrified. It really is embarrassing to look back on. 

“Hmmm… one could argue that I should kill you right about now, make sure you don’t go spreading the good word unmanaged.”

They continued to speak as they crept up behind me.

“I don’t even know what that symbol IS!! All she told me was that it was the symbol of your organization!! She didn’t even tell me what it’s called!!” 

I cried out in desperation. As most people do, I didn’t want to die.

Mr. Black paused. His face softened, somewhat. 

He seemed to have realized that I, for once, was being honest with him.

“Who’s ‘she’?” 

He asked me quite plainly.

“D-Doctor Mirai Fortune… She had come into my office a couple months ago and left this warning for me… We’ve… We’ve been talking over email ever since, but she’s very vague about a lot of things…!” 

I confessed. I confessed all of it. I was convinced that I needed to do so in order to live.

“Is she the reason why you turned Serena away?” 

They looked at me with a look of certainty in what he expected the answer to be. But I answered anyway.

“Yes.”

Mr. Black finally sat back down in the chair across from my desk.

“See, was that really so hard?” 

I did not respond. Really, I am terribly repulsed by his sarcastic demeanor. It tends to come off more as patronizing than anything else. 

“I’d love to see those emails, if you’d be so kind.”

I wordlessly turned around my computer monitor for him to look through. I had the thought to warn them not to go into any patient files, but I didn’t act upon it.

“Hah! She really was as vague as you said, huh?” 

He remarked as he read through the emails. I did not react.

“Though, I do see that she let you get a sneak peek at my notes, hmm?”

An arrow of fear shot through my chest, making me worry that they would be angered by this. But much to my surprise, they had simply laughed it off.

“Hey, how about we make a deal, old man?” 

He offered. 

I looked at them, cueing them to continue. 

“I can give you not just these notes of mine, but ALL of my notes, completely uncensored. Any information on that symbol and what it represents you could possibly desire. A brand new market for your Humanity Removal Therapy… All of it, for one simple little price…~” 

I was skeptical. That was a big claim, a big offer. But I pressed further.

“What’s the price?” 

I asked him.

“Yes, yes… All you need to do to start this new chapter in your life… Is to give Serena her Cat HRT prescription.” 

That… couldn’t possibly be all there was to it. 

That was the singular thought in my mind.

It was too simple. There had to be more to it. 

He mentioned “a new market for Humanity Removal Therapy” – for all I could know, that could mean that they would steal my formula right from under me.

It would put me out of a job!

And I can only imagine what Iris would think…

“No. I’m sorry Mr. Black, but I just can’t do that.” 

I responded to him, knowing fully that it could get me killed.

I couldn’t betray my patients like that, though.

I can’t betray Iris like that.

Sure, we butt heads many times, but I would be nothing without any of them.

And above all, I want to see each and every one of them live their happiest lives.

I saw Mr. Black frown in response to my answer. It was surprisingly genuine. He looked… disappointed.

But as he prepared to talk to me, he smiled ever so slightly.

“So that’s why so many read you as a hardass… You’re a stubborn bastard.” 

He remarked.

Again, without waiting for a response from me, they continued.

“I know the feeling.”

After that, he stood back up, grabbed his things, and left. 

--

February 18th, 2025

The following is an email. 

To: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

From: Doctor Mirai Fortune

Subject: Final Email

Hello, Doctor Erian.

I have both listened to the early morning recording of yourself and the journal entry of later in the day that you provided in your previous email.

I am deeply disappointed in how you have handled the situation.

For your trouble in dealing with them and with me, I have provided you with the documentation our adversary made on that day. Consider it a sense of closure, as this is the last time I will ever be contacting you.

While I am glad you resisted the offer to join them, I cannot afford to have cowardice such as yours weighing me down in my fight against them.

I hope you understand.

Mirai

[lilyaceofdiamonds]

I did the thing. Holy shit. Thank you brain.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y'all i've been upset about nanowrimo's shenanigans since last year, when kids weren't safe, and now there's this AI shitshow, and i want to cry about it again, because nano has been SO IMPORTANT to me since 2008--it helped me hack my writing process and make a bunch of cool shit, and i've written so many stories i love using it as a jumping off point. but. we gotta protect kids, and we gotta get the fuck out of here with AI bullshit.

so. the decision i have come to is that i will still be participating in nano. but now it stands for "now a's [that's me] novel writing month." i'm still going to write a book in november, and i'm still going to shoot for the 1,667 words/day (even though my finished projects wind up way longer than that, invariably), because i've structured my creative life around this routine, but i won't be using their site any more.

i will also not be tagging my november project posts as nanowrimo, but i WILL still be tagging them as "nano[YEAR]" (because that's been my tagging system for untitled projects for uh. years.). and it's now a's novel writing month :)

[bittersweetresilience]

there are twenty seven songs in my félix playlist which means a few more and i can do a monthly writing game. why am i saying this when i have several important wips i am meant to be doing? well, you see

[naomiknight-17]

About to mail off my ODSP final appeal to the Social Benefits Tribunal office

Gonna ask for fastest possible shipping and tracking. Idc what it costs. I am not gonna have them say they didn't receive it this time. I am gonna have proof

[voidimp]

maybe now that i have adhd meds i can attempt Language again

[number5theboy]

rewatched a bunch of s3 for that gifset, and i gotta say, you know what's good? the relationship between five and reginald.

[thepinkseashell]

I LOVE LESBIANISM THE BIKE SHOP BUTCH AND I HUNG OUT FOR LIKE 5 HOURS HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO MEEEEEEEE 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[todayisafridaynight]

I should be studying right now, but… do you ever think about how Arakawa didn't have to die?

Not even in the meta sense that it's RGG "tradition" to take faceclaims/father figures/antagonists out of the picture and that traditions should sometimes be broken, or that Aoki would've changed his mind, or that Ishioda or Tendo could've been stopped. But because Jo is the captain (and later second patriarch) of an organization specifically stated to specialize in faking deaths. A practice that originated in the Bubble Era years after Jo had already joined, and that Jo was no doubt intimately familiar with.

Like, isn't that why Arakawa was able to take that risk shooting Ichi? It just feels like things could've gone so much differently had Jo "accepted" Aoki's orders and "confronted" Arakawa with some kind of escape. Perhaps the Ijincho homeless camp would be off-limits, having drawn too much attention recently, but an assassin would surely know how to lay low for a while.

And maybe Aoki, Ishioda, and Tendo would've been undone by their own ambition anyway. And Arakawa could've kept his word and ran the security company with the pillars of the Tojo and Omi, while Jo could've been the chairman of the Tokyo Omi Alliance; light and shadow, opposite to their respective sons. And so many more yakuza wouldn't have been left with nowhere to go.

And hell, maybe none of it would've worked out in the end, maybe it would've all folded like a house of cards, but wasn't it worth a shot? Perhaps it was Yokoyama he who didn't think of it (or couldn't/didn't pursue it even if he did), perhaps it was Jo. But there's something so tragic about being so fundamentally opposed to lifting a finger in violence towards your co-parent and patriarch that you decline the opportunity to save him.

I wonder if the thought has ever occurred to Jo.

I wonder how much he regrets it.

UGH RIGHT IT'S SOOOO....

Like of COURSE I'm upset about Arakawa's death in that we lost a wonderful character and father figure in the franchise, but also it's cause it's just... for all the scheming Arakawa and Jo have been doing behind Aoki's back this entire time, Jo folded on this opportunity to get Arakawa out of Aoki's radar for good this time- or for at least the time being.

It's a testament to the humanity he convinced himself he threw away, and that's why it especially makes me want to scream. From our understanding, Jo is supposed to be very pragmatic and tries to deal with matters as efficiently as possible and generally seems emotionally detached from his work (of course we know that's not the case, but just from a surface-level perspective that's how it appears). So the one time Jo does show an ounce of humanity, it has the greatest consequence.

[pomeraniandancer]

True story: I first began college at a university in New York(for context, I am from Maine). About a week or two into February in my first year in New York, I began to get a little concerned because I noticed the snow was beginning to melt and go away at a fairly rapid pace.

After about a week of observing this with growing concern, I finally just flat out asked my two college roommates, "Is it just me, or is the snow melting really early this year?" My roommates were from Pennsylvania and Oregon respectively. They both gave me an odd look and said, "No, the snow melting in February is perfectly normal." Me: ...Oh. (Me, Internally: "Must be a Maine thing.")

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

18:05pm: locked folder

warnings: 18+ mdni, dubcon, yandere, up-skirting, masturbation, voyeurism, recording, overstimulation

college student!sukuna has a locked folder in his photo gallery. toji had seen it when he borrowed his phone and did not hesitate to blabber to the rest of the group — everyone had placed bets on what was in that mysterious folder. geto and shoko chalked it up to simple self-nudes, gojo thinks its pictures of some disgusting mole on his body, and toji hopes its nudes from girls his best friend had ‘fucked silly’. 

of course, he has no plans of ever letting them know, much less see, the contents of the folder. because, unbeknownst to everyone, including especially you, college student!sukuna considers himself somewhat of an artist. 

oh yes, college student!sukuna has the vision of a renaissance painter, an appreciator of the finer things in life, a real connoisseur for the shapes and curves of the female body and his favourite, and only, muse? why, none other than yourself, of course.

pervy college student!sukuna has hundreds of pictures of you, his precious friend. a variety of images ranging from blurry, hastily taken up-skirts to carefully angled, romantic shots of your sleeping form. there are videos, too. some innocent: you giggling at your friends’ antics, playfully glaring at the camera, or dancing in the rain when the group had taken an impromptu camping trip. 

others, not so. 

over the past couple months, college student!sukuna had gotten bolder, feeling empowered by your shy blushes and prolonged eye-contact. he knows you like him, anyone with eyes could see. he also knows he makes you horny, can see it in the way you press your thighs together when he manspreads in front of you, or the way your nipples poke through even the thickest hoodies if he breathes a little too closely by your ear. 

whenever he was over at your place, on the nights he tutored you, he would wait for the unmistakeable sound of the shower running and the dull thud of the shower stall closing before sneaking in. he let the steam disguise the crack in the bathroom door where his camera would be focused straight on your supple form. 

he hated that he couldn’t see the finer details of your body, couldn’t tell if you were clean-shaven or natural, not even the colour of your nipples. but still, the videos of you humming as you shampooed never fails to get his dick hard.

college student!sukuna has a favourite video. it’s of you in the shower, but instead of getting cleaner, you were intent on being a dirty girl. the shower head in your hand, the powerful jet pummelling your poor clit, the other hand was clutching at a tit like you needed to hold something to steady yourself. it isn’t just the act that makes sukuna harder than he ever has been every time he watches it, nor is it the way your face was scrunched up in focus and eventually in fleeting ecstasy. 

no, what makes college student!sukuna cum to the point of overstimulation was what you were moaning as you pinched your nipple and rode the stream, head falling against the tile as you gasped for air. 

“‘kuna, just like that, fuck.”