#send good tech vibes please

[cowboybrunch]

if you see this, back up your work. do it now. right this second do it. "oh but i have time surely nothing will happen while i--" no. do it. trust me

[dicklessthewonderclown]

What was the moment that made you fully go “Oh fuck Generative AI is dangerous”

Because everyone has their moment when they realize there is no place at all for Generative AI if we want a good future

so there were a couple different things. i think it was summer of 2023, there was a whole thing about chat gpt being able write a stony omegaverse fic, and i remember going “oh- so they probably stole fanfic, i don’t fuck with that shit.” and it wasn’t really something that came up for a while, but like at family events and shit when inevitably i get asked about tech stuff bc i’m the oldest nephew/grandkid/cousin, i’d be like “yeah no they’re probably stealing shit and also fuck you i write my own shit thank you very much”

at some point last year when character ai started to get a lot more popular (or maybe i was just seeing more stuff about it), i just got the vibe that this was going to go downhill very fast

there was also the thing with open ai using scarlett johansson’s voice, and at that point i started to be a lot more concerned about the ethical issues surrounding ai

but then last semester i took a 7ish week seminar on gaston bachelard’s the poetics of space (written in i think the 50s, a difficult but super enjoyable read), and in the introduction he wad talking about poetic images and humanity and stuff, and then i started thinking about generative ai more. and i ended up writing my final paper for the class on art as something fundamentally human, and the experience of experiencing art as both something unique to the individual and also as something shared by virtue of the human condition. and one of the reasons i picked this topic was so i could be like “yeah no keep generative ai the fuck out of art, it’s stripping the humanity out of something inherently human,” and now here we are

also towards the end of the class was when suchir balaji, the guy who blew the whistle on open ai’s copyright infringement “killed himself” a couple days later (you know, like whistleblowers are wont to do /s), and at that point i was like “yeah no this is significantly more unethical than most people are talking about”

and while there are absolutely so many environmental issues with generative ai, my dislike and distrust of it has always come from the place of a writer, of someone who’s been in creative spaces for the vast majority of my life, as a humanities (specifically liberal arts/philosophy) major, as someone who has been a massive reader their entire life, and as someone who has a lot of Feelings about art and storytelling as something inherent to the human condition, a representation of human emption and creativity, and ultimately our desire to be understood in our humanity

i’ve also always loved sci fi, shit like i, robot and do androids dream of electric sheep? (the book that blade runner was based on). i have so other sci fi books about ai on my tbr, but if anyone has any recommendations, please (!!) send them my way (next up is i have no mouth but i must scream). i also recently got a bunch of books about ai, and like its relation to humanity as well as ethics shit, which i’m also very excited about (shout out thrift books!!). i just finished unmasking ai by dr joy buolamwini, which is about her work and research in ai development, specifically what she calls the ‘coded gaze,’ which is the racist and sexist algorithmic biases in facial recognition technology, and some ethical issues that come up with training. i can’t recommend it enough. another good rec about ai is bury your gays by chuck tingle, which is another fucking masterpiece

my god do i love yapping. and i’ll do it at the slightest provocation (this is a threat)

[justforbooks]

Careless People: A Story of Where I Used to Work by Sarah Wynn-Williams

This account of working life at Mark Zuckerberg’s tech giant organisation describes a ‘diabolical cult’ able to swing elections and profit at the expense of the world’s vulnerable

Shortly after her waters broke, Sarah Wynn-Williams was lying in hospital with her feet in stirrups, typing a work memo on her laptop between contractions. Facebook’s director of global public policy needed to send talking points from her recent trip to oversee the tech giant’s bid to launch operations in Myanmar to her boss Sheryl Sandberg. Then she would give birth to her first child.

Wynn-Williams’s husband, a journalist called Tom, was livid but, as men tend to be in labour rooms, impotent. The doctor gently closed her laptop. “Please let me push send,” whimpered Sarah. “You should be pushing,” retorted the doctor with improbable timing. “But not ‘send’.”

This incident typifies how, in this 400-page memoir of her seven years at Facebook from 2011 – as it mutated from niche social network to global power able to swing elections, target body-shamed teens with beauty products and monetise millions of humans’ hitherto private data – Wynn-Williams had become part of what reads like a diabolical cult run by emotionally stunted men babies, institutionally enabled sexual harassers and hypocritical virtue-signalling narcissists.

The cult vibe of this birthing story is made stronger by Wynn-Williams channelling Sandberg’s 2013 book Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead. She quotes Sandberg’s injunction to pregnant working women – “Don’t leave before you leave” – taking its implication to be that she should work right up to the point that the baby’s head emerges into this fallen world. It doesn’t occur to her that Lean In feminism might serve as a fig leaf covering self-exploitation and soul-depleting workaholism.

A couple of pages earlier, Wynn-Williams writes like a wide-eyed convert: “It still feels exciting and important to spread this tool around the world and improve people’s lives.” An evidently clever former New Zealand diplomat, she was ideal fodder to help spread Facebook’s secular gospel, as her backstory reveals. After surviving a shark attack as a teenager, she resolved to spend her working life helping humanity. Upon witnessing how the nascent Facebook kept Kiwis connected in the aftermath of the 2011 Christchurch earthquake, she believed that Mark Zuckerberg’s company could make a difference – but in a good way – to social bonds, and that she could be part of that utopian project.

Her naive faith reminds me of what Jon Ronson wrote about in So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed: at their inception both the internet and social media seemed, to some, unalloyed good things. It’s instructive for someone like me – who disdains social media and sees in tech giants the lucrative weaponising of hate masquerading as free speech, and the asphyxiation of democracy by the enabling of post-truth populists – to encounter such cockeyed optimism.

The “tool” Wynn-Williams talks about is not Facebook per se, but Zuckerberg’s cherished internet.org app (which has operated under the name Free Basics since 2015), devised to deliver the internet to connectivity-deprived countries, such as Myanmar, as part of what sounds like a system upgrade of Britain’s oxymoronic imperial mission to civilise black and brown persons.

What internet.org involves for countries that adopt it is a Facebook-controlled monopoly of access to the internet, whereby to get online at all you have to log in to a Facebook account. When the scales fall from Wynn-Williams’s eyes she realises there is nothing morally worthwhile in Zuckerberg’s initiative, nothing empowering to the most deprived of global citizens, but rather his tool involves “delivering a crap version of the internet to two-thirds of the world”.

But Facebook’s impact in the developing world proves worse than crap. In Myanmar, as Wynn-Williams recounts at the end of the book, Facebook facilitated the military junta to post hate speech, thereby fomenting sexual violence and attempted genocide of the country’s Muslim minority. “Myanmar,” she writes with a lapsed believer’s rue, “would have been a better place if Facebook had not arrived.” And what is true of Myanmar, you can’t help but reflect, applies globally.

Before she was disabused, Wynn-Williams fawningly adored Sandberg, as the pair crisscrossed the globe in private jets, bringing the good news of Facebook to foreign leaders. At one point [p40-41], for instance. Wynn-Williams recalls witnessing what happened when Sandberg meets New Zealand prime minister John Key at Facebook’s California headquarters, writing: “Until this moment, it had never occurred to me to see Sheryl as a celebrity or be awestruck by her... But now I can see how she’s sprinkling some of her stardust, whatever that magical quality is that she has that makes you forget to focus on the substance of the meeting at hand and instead wonder what it is she’s doing differently that makes her better than you.”

She approvingly quotes another Lean In message, that you should “bring your authentic self to work”. But what that means in Facebook reality becomes clear when, in her first performance review after giving birth, Wynn-Williams is told that co-workers are uneasy that her baby can be heard on business calls. The poor poppets. “Be smart and hire a Filipina nanny,” counsels Sandberg. Wynn-Williams does just that, but then something shocking happens. One day, Tom is checking the home camera when he notices a firefighter in their living room: the nanny has locked herself out and the baby inside the flat. But when Wynn-Williams later relates this disturbing event to colleagues, she feels as though she has made a faux pas – distracting them from their noble mission with personal guff. “The expectation of Facebook is that mothering is invisible,” she writes. Facebook cannot tolerate too much authenticity.

The book’s title comes from F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby: “They were careless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness.” For Wynn-Williams, Zuckerberg’s “move fast and break things” philosophy is just such entitled carelessness, leaving Facebook staff and their customers to sweep up the wreckage. But the Facebook she describes is not run by careless people, not really, but rather by wittingly amoral ones who use technical genius and business acumen to profit from human vulnerability. For instance, she claims Facebook – now Meta, which owns Instagram and WhatsApp – identified teenage girls who had deleted selfies on its platforms, and then supplied the data to companies to target them with ads for putatively tummy-flattening teas or beauty products.

Wynn-Williams’s shtick, often presenting herself as the only conscience in the room, does wear thin. I tired of reading of how shocked she was at some Facebook policy, while continuing to spread its values worldwide. “I’m astounded at the role money plays in elections in the US,” she writes at one point, as the 2016 Trump campaign gears up with political ads and targeted misinformation from which Facebook massively profited. Are you really so naive? I wrote in the margin. “I’m also against exporting this value system. But Facebook is effectively bringing this in globally by stealth.” And you’re part of it! I wrote in the margin. If only she’d taken to heart the critical messages of, say, David Fincher’s movie The Social Network or Dave Eggers’s novel The Circle, she might have leaned out earlier.

And yet her memoir is valuable, not just as indictment of the Facebook cult but of bosses’ entitled behaviour that will resonate for many. She depicts Zuckerberg as a tech-bro Henry VIII, a thin-skinned angry child whose courtiers let win at the board game Settlers of Catan during flights on his private jet. She charges him with lying to Congress about the extent of Facebook’s compromises to woo China and allow it to operate there, suggesting that his company was developing technology and tools to meet Chinese requirements that would allow it to censor users’ content and access their data. He was, she claims, much more in cahoots with Xi Jinping’s authoritarian regime than he let on to US senators.

On another private jet, relates Wynn-Williams, Sandberg imperiously invited her to sleep in the same bed. Wynn-Williams declined, but thereafter worried that she had upset her boss by not yielding to a presumably sexual demand, which she depicts in the book as the ex-Facebook COO’s entitled modus operandi with several women subordinates.

And then there’s what Joel Kaplan, currently Meta’s chief global affairs officer, allegedly did to Wynn-Williams at a boozy corporate shindig in 2017. She claimed that he called her “sultry” and rubbed his body against hers on the dancefloor. This wasn’t a one-off incident, she claims: indeed, there was a group at Facebook called Feminist Fight Club, whose members compared notes on such reportedly prevalent cases of sexual harassment by execs. An internal investigation cleared Kaplan of impropriety and soon after Wynn-Williams was fired for making misleading harassment allegations.

Last week, Meta responded to this book, calling it “a mix of out-of-date and previously reported claims about the company and false accusations about our executives”. The company has denounced its former employee, claiming that she was not a whistleblower but a disgruntled activist trying to sell books. Most likely she is both.

Wynn-Williams notes that Facebook changed its name to Meta in 2021. “But leopards don’t change their spots. The DNA of the company remains the same. And the more power they grab, the less responsible they become.” That culture of irresponsibility and carelessness should worry us more than ever, she suggests at the end of the book, as Zuckerberg’s Meta is at the forefront of artificial intelligence, a technology even more potentially calamitous than the one he dreamed up in his Harvard dorm a couple of decades ago.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[shivsdownstairsneighbour]

Chérie - End of the Line

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Fem. Reader

Description: A puzzling email and a new shoot gets you closer to Stewy once more. Maybe it's time to see how far things can go only for a night.

Rating: Teen/Mature

Word Count: 4k. Part one of the fic, though each can also be stand alones.

AN: Dearest reader, this author has to complete her yearly research report so, of course, it was compulsory to succumb to fic brainrot before typing the report. The dress comes from the Schiaparelli 2020 couture runway. While it lacks a specific name, if you search for the runway lookbook, you'll spot it from the embroidery details (all magnificent and superb). I wanted the closest thing to a SATC naked dress moment while keeping the going to a gala vibes.

Your phone ringing and vibrating right beside you at your desk did wonders in waking you up after a long night editing and postproduction of campaign materials for NYC fashion week. The glam is for the runway, the sleepless night is for the creatives behind the whole operation.

"Good morning?" You responded, not entirely sure if it was morning or afternoon.

"Greetings Miss, we're calling from Mr. Hosseini's office to confirm your presence this afternoon for the media materials." The ever so polite voice of Mrs. Margaret’s, Stewy's assistant, was surely a new way of waking up.

"Uh, yes, I've already confirmed a week ago and sent the tech brief of what I need in the room." You answered, standing up to get the coffee machine running before jumping to the shower.

"Of course, and you'll find it all according to your specifications. We're only missing your measurements, for which you haven't responded to the request sent via email three days ago."

"I beg your pardon, my measurements?" You froze in front of the cabinets, afraid to drop the mug out of shock.

"Yes, madame. Please send them via email at your earliest convenience."

"What does that have to do with me popping in for some pics?” Your voice tone conveyed beyond disbelief and your hand held even stronger to the mug.

"It's a personal request, I have no additional information about the matter. Please do send them and hope you have a pleasant day."

You were left beyond baffled. You actually thought it was a joke to have someone ask for your measurements and, since it came from an email address you didn't recognize, you figured it must be a prank. Why on earth would your measurements matter for a two-hour shoot? The request for measurements was baffling, making you feel the urge to text him to figure who came up with such a ridiculous request. However, truth to be told, beyond a text here and there or the occasional coincidences at a public event, Stewy and you wouldn't talk much, if ever. There was very little beyond a quick flirt and a drink. Plus, this was work, and when your professional name was called for, you liked to keep things strictly business.

Before you could do anything to contact him about that matter, the brand representative from last night's runway called to ask for the contact sheets and the final 6 pic run to use for press statements. You mindlessly typed your measurements though made a mental note to demand some answers from Stewy. The three coffees you had downed by them were starting to make their magic on you and, by the time you were done with your things, you looked a little haggard from the late nights, but with a bit of effort, you looked pulled together and ready to tackle the shoot.

Since they promised to stick to your tech brief as requested, you travelled light with only your camera bag and two lenses for what you envisioned a relatively easy shoot. Considering the hotel already had great lighting in the room, it was only a matter of setting the camera adequately to get the best out of the space. In hindsight, that could also use your own pent-up questions to raise some reactions from him that would make for a good picture. Mrs. Margaret was waiting for you at the hotel entrance and guided you immediately to the room. She didn't mention anything beyond the schedule and handed you the comms pack that would come out of them. The idea was to make it a sort of approachable, yet exclusive profile meant to be part of a joint social media-press strategy derived from the increased interest in his profile, both personal and business.

"Well someone looks as if they didn't have their beauty sleep. Or any sleep at all." He says as soon as he spots you walking into the room. He was wearing a bathrobe and sitting on the recliner by the bed.

"It's the post fashion week eye bags. Tres chic." You glared at him, not impressed by the lack of a greeting. What happened to normal courtesy like a good afternoon?

"Your working station must be somewhere over there. Make yourself at home." He pointed towards the mahogany desk that had the equipment placed and the already mounted studio flash beside it.

"Sure, because home is definitely overlooking the park." You responded, clearly caught by the wonderful views the room offered.

"Snarky. That's new." He turned towards the walk-in wardrobe, and you let a long sight before getting to the setup. It wouldn’t be long but the lack of sleep might start creeping in if you let it.

You set up the camera and start plugging in everything to the set up before starting the shoot. You have a shooting remote active for moments where you with the camera would be too intrusive or if you wanted to have a more upfront conversation without the camera meddling between him and you. They've just started with skincare and the press girl is pulling some questions while you shoot, and the social media guy is getting some backstage content. Curiosity is getting the best of you but you don't know when to ask about the whole measurements thing, especially when surrounded by so many people, some being fellow colleagues from adjacent fields, like Sylvie, the stylist.

By the time they're done with skincare and hair, the press people take a break before he's fully dressed, and you're left with the hairdresser, the make-up artist and the stylist. You might be buzzed by the rush of getting someone not only camera ready, as red carpet ready was a must, to feel the wear and tear from the week. However, you're also sleep deprived and terribly irrational, so you just blurt it out when the hairdresser asks you to take a seat at her station while he comes out of the wardrobe having had the final fitting of his trousers hems.

"Why does your team need my measurements?" Not only did everyone turn to him, but you could feel it, more than ever, his eyes burning through you.

"Everyone, out. Take five, get a coffee, smoke, whatever you need." Everyone left the room, no questions asked, leaving you two standing in the middle of it. "You're impossible to surprise, aren't you?"

"No, I like surprises, but asking through your assistant something of the sort isn't pleasant."

"Well, here's the surprise." He took your hand and guided you to the rack, where four black dust bags were hanging, each with a color-coded ribbon.

"The red one's my choice, I've seen you around and think it'll suit you. The blue is PR, would be lovely to see you on that one for the sake of this operation. The green's the stylist choice, and the pink is a wild card from her too. We could've gotten you more choices if you would've been punctual with your measurements." He said, with such naturality, you felt as the last person in the room to be on the deal.

"I think you've skipped over at least 10 steps previous to this conversation."

"You're my date and I can't have you walking around the red carpet or the gala looking like that." He said while pointing out to your smart trousers and shirt outfit. It was meant to be functional, not glam worthy.

"You know it would've been way easier to just ask upfront?"

"But where's the surprise in it?" He responded, with an almost mocking smirk on his face you wished to at least challenge a little.

"Your date? To the couturier's gala?" Both disbelief and a raised brow conveying the ridiculousness of his move.

"I know you're not booked or on assignment tonight."

"Great choice of words. This is making me feel like an expensive stand-in." His naturality on the subject was making you go from anger to uneasiness. A heads-up would’ve been a way better option.

"Booked or not, choose one, let them pamper you and have a night off."

"I still have to deliver these for your team."

"They're not due tomorrow, are they?" That bit was true, having until next Sunday magazines and society sections to publish them. Feeling accomplished, he turned to face you without dropping the hand he held.

You didn't realize, or rather chose to willingly ignore, the fact that he knew you held the remote in your hand. You were probably still within the camera's field of view, and in a swift move he took it from you and snapped a pic from the moment. The studio flash snapped you out of the moment and, just as quickly as everyone had been dismissed, the crew returned to the room. Stewy could've easily saved at least half an hour from prep time if he would've been clear from the start with his intentions. Nevertheless, you trusted everyone knew how to pull off a look while in a time constraint. You also had to admit it felt good to be receiving the VIP level of pampering that you've documented dozens of times but never had the pleasure of enjoying.

While all dresses were beyond beautiful, it was the pink wildcard that worked best, having it be a must wear if ever given the chance. The stylist helped you get into it, and you looked dazzling. It was day and night from how you left home, and you were really feeling it while wearing it. You didn't notice Stewy had been already fully prepared and looking from the sitting area how you were getting styled and fitted. He looked so smug having a glass of whiskey, as if taking you out fully glammed up was his accomplishment. In truth, you were never certain if you would've responded positively to an actual invitation for an event of the sort. Maybe the smug victory said more about you than him. But you wouldn't be opposed to a second outing if the night fared well.

Once you were ready, you asked for a couple of portraits of him sitting on the sofa and looking relaxed. He was pulling off each shot with enough success to not have to be any more demanding than necessary for good material. Maybe he'd gotten better at it due to increased attention. Or, rather more credibly, he was giving you content after asking you out in the weirdest way possible. Once the shots were done, it was time to leave and you started to feel the weight of the evening on your shoulders. It would be impossible to deny that the atmosphere was awkward in the elevator. Maybe you should've been the one to have a sip or two of that whiskey. What would you even talk about?

"If you ever wish to surprise me again, you do know you have my number." You said, almost as a whisper, wishing to fill up the silence between you two.

"Once again, where's the surprise in it? And I've seen how controlling you are. You would've said no to at least two racks of those dresses. And me." You could be wrong, but was he admitting to being scared of your rejection? That would be impossible.

"Now how would you know about that?"

"You moved the flower vase at least seven times since you started setting the camera." The nonchalance of the phrase revealed a little more than what he strictly said. He was apparently catching your every move in the room.

"That's not being controlling."

"Perfectionist then."

"I'm a professional, Mr. Hosseini." He looked at you with the same eyes as he did during the last picture from the first session. You knew he didn’t like that kind of solemnity in casual settings.

"I'm also a professional. And this will be good business for both of us." The elevator’s opening door not only wrapped the conversation, but also made it official that, whatever you had agreed to, was now set in stone.

You started to wonder if being snarky was a result of being sleep deprived, being nervous, or just in the presence of him after pulling the stunt. You have had good conversations in the very few opportunities you'd meet. Never deep, though always entertaining and fun. The car ride didn't ease the pressure, as being now in front of the camera became a reality. You understood perfectly what was going on from a technical perspective, and being in front of other colleagues was a massive change. You were increasingly too aware of your angles, of how to make the dress stand out, and how you'd be expected to stand by Stewy's side. He, on the other hand, was chill and chatting along with someone on the phone, and one of his hands found its way to the leg embroidery, carefully touching each bead. You would be lying if you'd deny it made you feel a mix of comfort and arousal.

The car stopped and you had to get out. You knew that the rule would be for him to help you out, and, as if coordinated from dozens of times of making it together, once your door opened, his hand was offered. The flashing lights dazed you up for a couple of seconds, making you trust his hand in guiding you towards the carpet and the entryway. It was his confident pressure on it that made you go from apprehension to trust and, as time passed, to enjoying the walk.

The first couple of pictures were admittedly awkward, with the two of you only holding hands and standing a little too rigid for anyone's taste and with enough space for the entire Holy Family to fit between both of you. You wanted to show the dress without straying too far from him, being that you had not much of a public profile to use as leverage to stand alone. By the middle of it, you decided to just lean into all the shenanigans of the moment, accepting his hand on the small of your back, crossing yours behind him too and fully leaning towards him on some shots. You'll figure out tomorrow how good they came out looking but, for now, it was about just letting go.

The gala was beautiful, beyond anything you'd experienced. Without the pressure of documenting it on assignment, you could appreciate all that came with it. The food was great, the acts just as beautiful, and you got to interact with people who you see seldom in person, as they're part of the designers’ in-house staff. Stewy never strayed too far from you and turned out to be an engaging presence no matter the group in front of him.

It became a little clearer than before why the unexpected request with cryptic message and request could've worked best with you. You would've easily said no to a situation that put you right on the center of attention. And, when the first meeting took place, it was you who suggested Rhomboid while being in your court and under your direction. So, it must've been adequate to put you in his court for the next move. However, there were many other ways to ask you out without sounding like a creep or an ass.

"I told you you'd like it. And I'm never going to complain of how much eye fucking I've gotten from you in that little number." He said to you as you two walked together to the bar for a refill.

"Even if it was a wild card?" You looked at him bewildered, clearly caught off guard by the last remark.

"Mostly because it was the wild card. It's like getting a preview of you." His free hand made its way to the embroidered ribs, holding you tight by his side.

"You're so flirty and reveling the moment, aren't you?" You blurted you mindlessly, probably as an effect of the couple of drinks you've enjoyed so far.

"And so are you." His hand departed your ribs and made its way to the small of your back before landing on your butt. Before you could rationalize it, he pulled his move. "There's a suite with my name and your camera waiting, and I'd hate to leave all that hanging any longer."

"We're not playing with my camera. That's work equipment."

"That remote button is very tempting, and you should see what I did there." He concluded with a smirk and a soft squeeze coming from the hand on your butt.

"You took some pics of me?" His smirk quickly changed to a laugh, probably due to your own reaction to whatever he had proposed.

"Only fair if you got mine in there."

He looked towards the hall's entrance and you two started to make your way out by finishing your drinks and bidding goodbyes to any acquaintances you encountered on your path. Since there would be no cameras outside as the gala was approaching the end, it felt natural to hold his hand, share some laughter, and head towards the car without feeling observed by any prying eyes. While the proposal was intriguing as is, it was more intriguing why he didn't pull any move during the car ride beyond touching and playing with the embroidered ribs and femurs.

It was in the room that everything started to become clear. Standing near the station, he asked you to turn on the setting you had been working with. You only needed the camera and the computer, so nothing else was turned on from the afternoon shoot. After some scrolling, the screen showed the shots of you getting the dress on and looking at the mirror. You were awed by the naturality with which you seemed to have navigated an unusual circumstance as that.

"I believe the photographer did a great job setting it up. Do you know her by any chance?" Standing side by side, his hand returned to its now usual spot on the back, and it was certainly more appealing to see him without the suit jacket.

"These are quite good."

"You didn't take it personally that I didn't choose yours?"

"I didn't even know this one was a possibility. You looked almost naked, walking around the gala as if you run the place." While your eyes were still focused on the screen, his eyes were looking intently at you, a sight that had been your companion for most of the evening.

"And you got unprecedented eye fucking opportunities." You turned to face him, locking sight and reaching your hand towards the one he wasn’t using to support himself on the table.

"A rightful compliment to my invitation." He stood straight and took the remote from beside the mouse.

"You know that that’s not a toy."

"Before we begin, let me tell you how much I want to ruin this lip color." He said, giving you a kiss while holding you tight to him with one hand and the remote with the other. It wasn’t a deep kiss but you sensed it'll go beyond that if given enough time.

"Would you stand here miss?" He said pretending to not have heard you and guiding you back to where you were getting ready before.

"Now, I want to see the whole of you. Gloves, please?" He whispered on your ear before moving to kiss your neck.

"Not a chance if I don't get to do some perusing before." You manage to say before he stood half a step back to look at you as if you’d defied him.

Without removing the gloves, you took your time untying the bowtie, and opening the first three buttons of the shirt. He held you steadfastly to him and, as he asked you to do more, you never changed the pace with which you were going, carefully unbuttoning each one knowing the tease you were being by going so slowly.

After his shirt was undone, he let go of you and turned you around to plant some kisses along your neck and shoulders before his hand reached your side and undid the zipper. It was slow, calculated, and definitely doing more than a thing or two to your brain. As the dress fell to the floor due to the weight of the embroidery, his free hand explored your back, and you turned around, stepping out of the dress to undo the belt buckle and the trousers. He was still dressed, and it was unfair of him for you to be standing on your underwear while he had trousers and an undershirt on.

The continued teasing touches left you two standing fully naked, craving each other desperately, and leaving the gloves as the final barrier between teasing and fucking. He slowly helped you take one glove off, never letting go from the remote, before helping you to the other. Once both of you were standing fully naked, his hand found his way once more to the small of your back and with strength and self-assuredness, started kissing you with more passion than ever. You were certainly no fool either, letting him go for it and voicing it to his ear how good he was doing as he kissed your breasts and tended to you.

From that point on, the night became a blur. He immediately left the remote after the first kiss and guided you to the bed where things got going. You could feel his fingers and lips exploring you just as you were getting acquainted with his body. You liked the feeling of his hairy chest on you and, as you asked for more, he certainly wasn't going to leave you hanging. Excited beyond measure, you kept it going until you couldn't do any longer without feeling him inside. You took him in and reveled in the sensation of feeling full, using your legs to hold him tightly in you. Neither of you was fully sure of how many orgasms came from the nightly adventure, but as you two lied side by side, you took the pleasure of feeling exhausted for more than one reason aside from sleep deprivation. After a quick shower, the week of poor sleep caught with you, and you dozed off almost immediately after getting into the covers. You could feel Stewy's hand running along your side, similar to how he touched the rib embroidery on the dress. You're not sure if he placed one last peck on your back or not because you were already gone.

The next morning, you woke up early to see, in private, whatever Stewy managed to capture from the night. One picture immediately caught your eye where he was pressing your back against him and laying a kiss on your neck. Both seem to have forgotten the camera was there, looking absolutely locked into the moment. Another picture, him looking mesmerized as you undo his belt, getting extra light touches from the way the glove embroidery reflected light as you moved. Certainly, these pictures and the others you were selecting would enter your private collection. A thing to be only enjoyed by you.

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see him awake and only wearing his boxers. He crouched to your eye level and pointed to the screen saying, "I'll want these prints first thing" before a quick peck on the cheek.

"Should I trust you to keep them private?"

"No one should ever see you like that, except me." His smugness oozed off from him and the look he gave you emphasized the nature of his request and his word. As he said to some other person at the gala, his word was his bond, and he might see to it with the seriousness with which he pulled business deals.

In the meantime, he got a notepad from the desk drawer and wrote his address.

"I want them delivered here with a special request for you to be the courier."

"Should I wear the gloves too?" You mentioned keeping a playful tone to what seemed to be a confirmation of an upcoming date.

"As much as they're yours now, I want to see them again doing precisely that." He responded by pointing at the picture where you removed his belt.

A knock on the door pulled you two out of it and breakfast was served. Who knew if and when you'd do this gala date all over again. But for now, you had a package to deliver and some joint morning aftercare to ease you back to your routine. 

[keriarentikai]

hi! i've been really enjoying your podfics recently! i especially like the friendly hangout vibes to your cold reads/podfic radio.

in fact, I've been looking for a hobby that involves fanfic without being an author or fanartist, so I've been thinking about trying to make a podfic, and you seem like a good person to ask for advice on how to make and post to ao3 an unedited live-read/react style podfic. (if i do this, it would be with a busted old cell phone and a kindle tablet, so nothing fancy would be happening)

so with that context, my question is:

how did you get started with podficcing and what resources would you share with someone wanting to make baby's first podfic?

thanks for your time! (and all your lovely podfics!)

respectfully,

xks

Hello!!!! I'm behind on comments etc. but I have been so appreciating seeing you listen to some of my stuff!

I decided to start doing cold read podfics because I spent months mainlining kisahawklin and dangercupcake, and figured I could give it a shot, so it sounds like you're where I was!

The first one I tried (this decade) was my Mulan AU - 'fulfill your duties calmly and respectfully; reflect before you snack'. All I used for that was the mic in my laptop and the Voice Recorder that came with Windows. My old laptop couldn't run Audacity (which is the program I now use) WHILE also recording so I actually used Voice Recorder for quite some time, and then imported into Audacity later.

But yes - tech resources: Audacity (but don't worry about, like, understanding it at the beginning). I pretty quickly bought a Blue Snowball mic (not what I use now, but I really loved it! about 50 dollars) but I know a lot of people use their phone mics. (Also the Podfic Posting Helper extension by irrationalpie is so good for actually posting to ao3 after it's ready).

The real resources, though, are other podficcers! I'm not someone who knows much about, like, equipment and editing etc. A lot of other people do, and can probably advise you on using a phone mic. You (and anyone else reading this who is interested, whether just in listening or in producing your own podfics) should join the MDZS Podfic discord server! I'll send you an invite (and please, anyone else who is interested, send me a message and I will invite you too!!!)

One of the reasons I love cold reading because it does require much less pre- and post- production effort. All you really need is a fic and a willingness to read it! I HIGHLY encourage you to give it a try!

(This is all very disorganized but I will send you the link to the server and if you have any other questions you can definitely send them in an ask or in chat)

[jessicafangirl]

Under The Mask Chapter 2

Hey Kids. Glad to discover there are more Special Ghoul Phil lovers out there than myself. I've created my own take on the ghouls and their lore here. So just know this is my little take and I'm not trying to say it the one everyone should have. Let your lore be yours. And thanks be to Tobias Forge for nearly killing himself to give these seeds of magic to us all. I'm hoping to finish this tale in the 3rd chapter...but I'm a wordy bitch and this may be 4 parts. We shall see. Sorry this is sort of...long.

You can also read this here at AO3. If you like it please comment, kudo, share, send me Diet Mello Yello or Coke Zero...or you know...a Phil.

Stevie looked out the windows of the darkened glass of the black SUV as it drove slowly through the parking lot.  It wasn’t stopping and at this point was passing carefully through the crowds walking into the venue.  She smiled at the sight of probably 50 Papa Secondo’s in various sizes walking with significant others or parents.  Some ghouls were there too.  Mostly though it was a sea of black Ghost shirts and a few other bands.  Everyone looked happy.

She had barely made it within her allotted time.  Her attire this evening was a pair of black jeans, black Doc Martens with silver skulls stitched into the material and a slightly off shoulder Kiss t-shirt with the cover of Dynasty on the front.  It wasn’t vintage but it was distressed and had black and white rhinestones along the top.  Nervous, she double checked her make up hadn’t melted off in her panic.  Nope…still hanging on for dear life as she checked her compact, also double checking she hadn’t mismatched her earrings.  Nope, still the small rhinestone skulls with the little black stones for eyes. 

Stevie shoved the compact back in her small leather concert bag.  It didn’t take up a lot of room and held the necessities: compact, lipstick, cards, and phone.  She could strap it across her chest and the little bag hung down and out of the way.  She’d murder anyone who ever tried to take it from her because she’d never find another like it.

She shouldn’t feel this nervous…she worked in this world and had met a lot of famous musicians in the rock and metal scene.  But as the car drove through the now open gate to the back of the venue, Stevie felt out of place.  She didn’t get to do the backstage thing at these shows much less be invited to it by someone with the band.

Reminding herself not to chew her lipstick off again she was surprised to see a masked ghoul come over and open her door for her almost as soon as the SUV had stopped.  The ghoul held out a hand for her to hop out.  “Miss Morton, I’m going to take you backstage.”  The tall, thin ghoul said.  He then held out a lanyard.  “Please put this on.” 

The green and black Ghost logo was prismatic on the plastic and in big bold letters it stated VIP above the name and below it was BACKSTAGE ALL ACCESS.  Her eyes widened.  “Uh, thank you.”  She replied and slipped it on over her neck. 

“Follow me please.”  The ghoul said and turned to head into the venue. 

Stevie noticed the oddly echoing sound of the ghoul’s voice then.  She wondered if he had a microphone or something that was causing the oddness of tone.  Or maybe she was just overwhelmed by literally everything happening. 

The backstage area was organized chaos.  She saw techs running around, road crew and assistance with headsets shouting back and forth.  The opening band was just starting to perform, a good one that she’d listened to with a black magic vibe perfectly paired with Ghost.  The ghoul turned back to her, noticing she was lagging back as she looked around at everything.  He stopped and waited for her to realize he’d done just that.

“Oh…sorry….I…don’t get to go backstage much.”  She told him.  He nodded slightly and then gestured again for her to follow him.

He led her to a room that had the bands logo printed on a piece of paper and beneath it Green Room.  Someone had added in cursive black marker the words “Black and” before the word Green.  Somehow Stevie knew that Papa Secondo had made his presence known with that. 

“You can wait in here and someone will take you stage side before the show really starts.”  The ghoul said and waved her inside. 

She told him thank you and headed into the room.  It was a large one with a few couches and a long table laden with small sandwiches, bottles of wine, water, soda, and what looked like butter cookies with powdered sugar on them.  On one of the couches Stevie recognized two of the trio that had been hanging with Secondo.  The older one was asleep, mouth gaping a little.  The younger one was tapping away at her phone. 

Stevie figured it would be for the best to stay at a safe distance.  She picked up a Coke Zero and started looking at the numerous concert posters that covered one whole wall of the room.  Some of them went as far back as the 60s.  She was smitten by the designs and thought for a moment of pulling out her own phone and snapping pictures of the wall.  One of them showed the Rolling Stones and her eyes widened a bit.

“That was a good show.”  A familiar voice spoke softly near her, causing Stevie to jump in surprise. 

She turned and saw Phil was standing there, a different suit, this one a bit more formal looking even down to wearing spats over his black dress shoes.  His silver mask reflected the soft lights of the room as did the jade green of his eyes as they watched her. 

“You were there?”  She asked him after trying to calm her heart down after her mini stroke.

Phil turned to the poster, hands behind his back and leaning down.  “Oh yes, fantastic show.  Only one tiny riot to distract from the performance.” 

Stevie raised an eyebrow.  “What were you like…a year old?”  She asked him.

The ghoul leaned back up and turned to her.  “I’m older than I look.”  He told her. 

“Are we talking maskwise or?  She asked him, taking a drink of her soda. 

“Maybe you’ll find out.”  He replied.  He caught himself then, being a bit too forward.  He needed to focus on the goal which was…having her join their ranks.  Also, making sure her current employers realized their mistake and what they were losing when she quit them and joined the project.  And she would indeed do that if he had any say in the matter. 

Phil remembered the discussion with Secondo earlier that evening.  He’d been leery of going to the Papa with the idea that had been plaguing him when he’d realized what was happening with Stevie.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the treatment and unfairness and just the simple using of her talents for someone else’s gain.  It rankled him greatly, going against the teaching of the church in so many ways. 

He hoped Secondo’s predilection for a curvy woman would play in his favor as he found the Papa sitting in the back of a tour bus reading an Italian comic book while drinking a glass of white wine.  For once his harem was nowhere around. “Papa, may I speak with you?”  He had asked, hands behind his back and waiting patiently.

“Ah, Phil, come join me.”  Secondo gestured to the couch.  “Would you like a glass of wine?  It’s nothing compared to the vineyard at the Ministry but alas we must make do.” 

Phil shook his head.  “Grazie Papa, but no, I’m fine.”

Secondo raised a dark brow.  “You seem troubled Phil…what is it?”  He closed the comic and placed it on the side table. 

Phil sighed.   “I discovered something today and I want to help if I can…if we can I should say.”  He said. 

“Vai avanti.”  Secondo gestured for him to proceed; his interest piqued. 

“The woman from Plug and Play…”  He started.

“Ah, si…la bella dea.”  Secondo made a chefs kiss gesture. 

Phil shook his silver masked head.  “Yes, that’s the one.” 

He paused for a moment and then proceeded to tell the Papa exactly what he’d witnessed.  Secondo’s face had turned a shade of red that Phil didn’t know could exist in nature.  A vein started pounding on the side of his shaved head.  Finally Phil detailed the conversation with Stevie and as he watched he saw the white of Secondo’s infernal eye distinctly start glowing. 

“Quegli idioti fottuti non sanno cosa hanno!”  The Papa looked dangerously close to exploding, his voice vibrated in the enclosed space of the tour bus like a growling echo.

Phil nodded.  “I’ve come up with a solution to help her.”  He said in a far calmer voice.

“We kill the fucker.”  The Papa cut him off.  “Si, this is a good plan.”  Secondo grabbed his wine glass and downed its contents in one go.  “I will help.”

While the ghoul wouldn’t normally mind such a thing this would cause more issues and draw unwanted attention.  Also, it was too quick.  He really wanted them to see her succeed and be appreciated.  That would be the best revenge.  “Actually, I had a different idea.”

“Oh...” Secondo looked disappointed.  “What is your idea then fratello?”

Phil was glad he was still listening and not grabbing a sword from the small collection he always brought on tour.  The ghoul had always been nervous about that quirk of the Papa’s. 

“I want to offer her a job with the ministry and the project.  Make her be the go-to for information on the band, the face of the socials etc. when it isn’t you.  Let her be our press guru…don’t hide her away, let her do what she’s good at but for us.”  Phil sent a quick prayer to the dark lord that Secondo would see this was a great idea.  Or at least his lustful soul would.

The Papa had smoothed his fingers over his mustache and hummed thoughtfully.  “Hmm.  I like this idea.  She deserves to be appreciated.  And she would be with us...”

Phil’s tail flicked nervously as he saw the lustful gears working in the Papa’s head.  He felt a stab quickly of jealousy and batted it away.  That wasn’t what this was about…no no…he…he wasn’t in competition with Papa for this woman.  He’d lose anyway, wouldn’t he?  The tall, handsome, broad-shouldered head of the clergy vs. the demon who was on the shorter side that was in fact a demon and not human and whose face she’d never seen.  Sure, who would the woman run to?  Phil tried and failed to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. 

“Si, lets do it.  Offer her the job.”  Secondo slapped his gloved hand on the couch’s arm rest emphasizing his decision. 

Phil let out a relived sigh.  “Thank you Papa.  I’ll invite her backstage to the concert tonight.”  The ghoul stood to leave but Secondo’s voice stopped him.

“Phil…do you…have another interest in this bella donna?”  The Papa’s voice was a mix of teasing and curious as he raised a dark eye brow. 

The ghoul stiffened, his tail whipping nervously and he couldn’t stop it.  “What…what do you mean Papa?”

“You know what I mean.”  Secondo pursed his lips and then gave a rather diabolical grin.  “I give you tonight to make a move fratello and if you don’t…I will, si?”

Phil’s green eyes widened in his mask.  What did he say to that?  Rather than having spoken a response he simply gave a nod and headed out of the tour bus.

And now here he was standing next to the bella donna in question and realizing…he really did want to make a move apparently and had no idea how he was supposed to do that AND offer her a job…while not getting into the whole 9 levels of hell that was human resource violations.  From somewhere in the back of his mind a voice said “well, you aren’t human…so those don’t apply.”  Phil sighed. 

“Do you ever take it off?”  Stevie asked him.

Phil realized he’d dazed out for a second.  “Take it off?”  he asked.

“The mask, is it like a Mandalorian thing or just for while you are working?”  She smiled at him, trying to see if she could see more than just his eyes and failing.

Had she really just made a Star Wars reference?  Oh…his tail was really trying to pull free from the belt holding it in place against his back.  It was really liking her at the moment.  “Uh…it’s complicated.”  He replied finally.  “But we do take them off…we don’t wear them all the time.”

“Ah, okay.”  Stevie wasn’t going to push it.  Artists had their own sorts of rules, and she wasn’t going to push him.  But the curiosity was eating her alive.  “I…I did want to thank the band for the invite to this.”  She paused, not sure who had sent it.  “I mean, as crazy as it sounds, I’ve not been backstage like this before.”

Phil smiled at the fact this was a treat for her.   Then realized why it was a rare thing, and he frowned, of course she couldn’t see that.  “Well…I’m happy you accepted.”  He said giving a slight bow.  “You did great work today and I feel you deserve a peek…behind the mask…so to speak.”  Oh, stop this you idiot.  You’ve been around long enough you should be better at this. 

Her grey eyes widened a little.  “Oh you pulled this hat trick off?”  She asked him surprised.

He was blushing and she couldn’t see that either…thank the dark lord.  “I guess you could say being the “special ghoul” has privileges.”  He winced internally.  Phil…you are not a young ghoul.  It may have been a while since you’ve swam in the relationship pool…but Satan’s balls you can’t strike out here.  Secondo would not strike out.  He couldn’t remember a time the triple B had ever failed in that pursuit.

Stevie grinned.  “I mean, it’s in the title.”  She said and took another drink of her soda.  “Do you ever get to play on stage?”  She asked.

Phil was surprised by the question.  No one had asked him that before.  “It’s been a while, but back in the early days I did a few things.” 

She cocked a brow.  “What sort of things?  Did you sing?  Guitar?” 

His tail was going insane, and he was thankful he’d made a point it was strapped down as well as it was.  Phil glanced away, taking a breath to calm his nerves.  It had been a while since he’d talked about this sort of thing.  He didn’t want to admit how much he missed being on stage with his fellow ghouls.  “Back up singing, guitar, even got to play a pipe organ once.”  He said wistfully but with a bit of pride.  He missed it truly, but his path of service had led him to a different path. 

“A pipe organ?”  Stevie’s eyes widened.  “How very Phantom of the Opera.  What was that like?” 

Thank Satan for the mask.  He was sure he was blushing furiously now.  “Intimidating.  But…I’m a quick study.”  He stood up a little straighter as he saw in her gaze a look of being intrigued and…dare he think…interest?  “But enough about me.  Would you like a quick tour before the show starts?”

Stevie quickly drank the last of her soda.  All she’d need is to trip carrying it and causing herself to be electrocuted next to a sound set up.  The equipment was her biggest concern.  “I’d love it.”  She said tossing the can into the recycle.

Phil gestured toward the door, noticing the two of Secondo’s harem watching their interaction.  He heard them mumble something under their breaths in Italian.  He caught something along the lines of “What the fuck is she doing here?” and “When did they start letting farm animals come in the backstage?”  The Ghoul turned as soon as Stevie was out the door and let his demonic side out for a moment.  Green eyes blazing in unholy light, he hissed at the two of them, causing both women to let out tiny shrieks of fear and surprise.  They clutched each other on the couch trembling. 

Well…he still had it in some areas it seemed.  With a final low growl of warning, he shut the door.  He found Stevie looking around enraptured by the simple amount of activity and things happening around them.  She turned back to him at his approach.  “Everything okay?”  She asked him.

Phil straightened the cuffs of his jacket.  “Yes, quite alright.  Come along and I’ll show you around.  No wandering off though, it’s easy to get lost back here.”  He offered her his arm and she took it.  Phil could feel the warmth of her through the satin of his jacket.  And this close he could smell the perfume she was wearing, something spicy and sweet. 

He couldn’t be distracted; he needed to focus on making a good impression so she said yes to the offer.  The job offer.  That was the important thing…not…not the fact he was he wanted to rip his mask off and shove his face into the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder and…Dark Lord give him strength.  He needed to not fuck this up.  For various reasons. 

They walked past some of the other ghouls who made some interesting gestures when Stevie wasn’t looking.  Phil made a very specific gesture back at them, also when she wasn’t looking to get them to screw off and leave him alone.  Phil pointed out some interesting points, especially when they got to the guitars which Stevie was cooing over. 

“Oh my god these are beautiful.”  She said, staring but afraid to touch them. 

“We’ve got quite a variety for the band ghouls.”  He said, a teeny bit of envy crawling down his spine as he looked at them. 

She turned with bright eyes at him.  “Do you still play?”  She asked him.

Phil glanced at the beautiful purple and black axe that was laying in repose in a velvet lined case.  His fingers itched for a moment.  “Not…not regularly.  And not on stage anymore.”  He said, voice wistful. 

Stevie could hear it in his tone, he missed being a part of the music.  Maybe not necessarily the band but she could tell in one way he was like her.  He wasn’t allowed to be on stage in a way.  And she knew the sting of that.  She turned back to him with a soft smile.  “I’d love to hear you play sometime.  I mean, if you strum the strings a certain way does a band of demons show up to play along?”

Phil’s head whipped up quickly to her.  She was joking of course…at least partially but he could scent out a lie just like any good ghoul could.  She wasn’t lying.  She actually wanted to hear him play.  “Uh…certainly.  I mean…” 

Stevie realized then she’d probably never see the guy again after tonight.  They’d be heading off on the rest of the tour.  And what was she even thinking?  What kind of line was that…did she mean it to be a line?  Asking to hear a guy play guitar sometime.  Christ, she really wasn’t trying to flirt with him because that just didn’t happen with her.  Stop embarrassing yourself Morton… “I’m sorry, I forgot you all will be gone tomorrow.  Rain check for the next time you’re in town maybe.”  She said, glancing away, cheeks warming.  Now she was blushing like an idiot.

Phil’s lips parted in surprise.  The scent of emotions on the chilled air had changed.  His nose picked up the essence of doubt, embarrassment, and…dare he hope…was that…smitten?  He nearly tripped over a cable.  No, no…he needed to keep this going.  Dark Lord he hadn’t expected to have this be happening so…easily? 

The ghoul realized though that this was not so easy.  Stevie had no idea what he and the rest of the ghouls were.  She didn’t know the reality of the Ministry either and that would all have to be explained when he offered her the position.  It would have to be explained if he tried to ask her out.  She hadn’t even seen his face and when she did it would be fairly obvious, he wasn’t human.  And what then?  If she ran away screaming and everything fell apart? 

He couldn’t wear the mask forever.  If he wanted an actual relationship with this woman who had him making deals with Papa and wanting to save her from the dipshits who were using her, he needed to be honest.  He didn’t want to hide what he was; he wanted to show her who he was and guide her through a world where magic was real…music was the heart of it…and the dark could be beautiful.  He wanted her to become part of the project where she’d be accepted (he’d have a talk with Secondo regarding his harem’s treatment of her) and he knew…if she gave it a shot…she’d be happy.

Phil felt the doubt trying to take over.  Maybe he should let Secondo do this…at least the Papa was human.  Mostly he supposed.  The Emeritus line had a touch of the devil in them and always had.  But other than the infernal eye they were for all intents and purposes human.  Phil didn’t know how he’d react if she was terrified of him.  Probably curling up in a ball and crying would be the most likely outcome.  But he needed to try.  She was worth trying for. 

As they’d been walking in silence for a couple of minutes, Phil didn’t notice he’d walked right by her as she stared into a sectioned off area.   He quickly came back to her side.  “Ah, you’ve found the wardrobe area.”  He said.

There were masks here like his own on tables and the ghoulettes masks as well.  Secondo’s robes and headgear, suits for all the band and additional designs hung around them. 

“This is beautiful.”  Stevie sighed.  The work on the costumes and designs was lovely.  The green and black silks, the shiny black suits all caught her eye.  The masks were gleaming under the lights, nearly mirror like in their shine. 

Phil smiled at her expression.  He pushed the curtain aside further and gestured inside.  “Come with me, I’ll show you around.”  He said. 

She was hesitant to touch anything he noticed, her fingers reaching out to run along one of Secondo’s more elaborate robes then stopping.  “Here, like this.”  Phil came to her side and took hold of her hand, lightly placing it against the silken layers and the crystals embroidered there.  His gloved fingers rested above hers.  He managed to speak again while trying not to stutter.  Her hand was so warm.  “You can touch them.  They’re made to live through the performances, so they are hardier than they look.”

Stevie nodded, her mouth suddenly dry.  She hadn’t noticed before how she could feel a coolness, almost a chill from his hand where it touched her, even through his glove.  No wonder he was wearing them.  But even with the cold she found herself growing a little flushed.  Oh don’t do something stupid…she thought to herself.  “The work on these is amazing.”  She said slightly breathless.

“To keep the attention of the public sometimes it requires a bit of flash.”  Phil reluctantly removed his hand from hers, moving to another rack of costumes.  “It just so happens we have a current Papa who wants to make sure the world appreciates his style.”  He gestured towards yet another set of robes in green and black encrusted with giant green stones making up the grucifix designs along it. 

Stevie laughed suddenly.  “You mean like the music video with the uh…flash?” 

Phil shook his head sighing.  “That was…a choice.”  Secondo and his exhibitionist side on full display for the world.  Of course she’d seen it. 

Stevie moved over to the table with the ghoul masks.  Phil followed her, picking up one of the ghoulette versions.  He glanced at her through his own mask, green eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.  “Did you want to try one on?”

“Am I that obvious?”  She asked him chewing her lower lip as her gaze looked at the distorted image of herself reflected in the chrome mask.

“I wouldn’t say obvious.  Maybe excited?”  The ghoul replied.  Very gently he lowered the mask over her hair.  She’d closed her eyes as he’d done so.  “Ah, there we go.”  He said and at the words her eyes opened.  Phil felt his chest tighten for a moment as he saw her pale gaze looking out from the chrome mask.  Oh…she’d make a lovely ghoul…

Stevie felt the soft lining of the mask against her skin, the chrome like metal surprisingly light.  The scent of incense seemed to be embedded within the velvety material.  “How does it look?”  She asked him, glancing around for a mirror. 

Phil took her hand and led her to a corner.  “You tell me.”  He said, gesturing to a full-length mirror. 

She looked at herself in the glass.  The mask might have been a little large, but it looked neat as hell.  Not seeing her own chubby cheeked face looking back at her was a welcome change.  The mask…  She supposed the one she wore was a 20 something goth waif.  She looked at her wide hips, the rest of her body that didn’t fit what was considered attractive and behind the chrome she sighed.  “Too bad you don’t have a full body suit.”  She muttered to herself. 

The ghoul caught the scent of her spiral, like choking smoke and burning leaves.  He heard the whisper of her words, and he felt the ripple of anger rush through him at her bosses and anyone else who had made her feel like this about herself.  His fingers flexed in his gloves, and he had to resist a sudden urge to just…hug her.

She glanced up at him.  “It’s beautiful Phil.  Really, everything is out of a dark fairy tale.”

It shook him back to himself.  “Our designers will be glad to hear that.”  He told her.  “Here, let me help take that off, we’re getting near showtime.” 

Stevie lowered her head a little bit and the ghoul carefully pulled the mask off.  He placed it back on the table and turned back to her.  Before he could stop himself, he gently brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead where it had fallen.  “Pardon me…”  He muttered, pulling his hand back like it had been scalded.  He needed to control these overly familiar urges until…well…he just needed to. 

She tried not to blush again, but it was really difficult when he was doing things like that.  She wasn’t used to any of this.  And she refused to let her thoughts lead her to some insane notion that he was actually interested in her.  That didn’t happen, not to her.  Not with the dapper guy in the silver mask with the longer fingers wrapped in black leather and eyes that looked like they were made out of the greenest leaves ever.  Oh Christ Stevie…what is wrong with you?  Honestly…what the hell?

Phil glanced over into a box that was sitting nearby.  He reached in and pulled out something.  “Here…a memento for going behind the curtain.” 

The ghoul took her hand and placed in it an embroidered and bejeweled patch that matched the one on his suit jacket.  The grucifix design was intricate and stunning.  “Oh…Phil, I can’t…”  She said, shaking her head.

He closed her fingers over it.  “Yes, you can.  Special Ghoul has special privileges, remember?”  he said grinning though she couldn’t see it. 

Stevie found herself chewing her lip again.  Her lipstick was going to be gone in no time if it wasn’t already.  “Thank you Phil.”  Her voice was soft and after one more glance at the patch she placed it into her bag. 

“Prego cara.”  He replied, voice equally soft and slipping into Italian without realizing it.  She glanced up at him with a curious expression on her face and he realized what he’d said.  Oh.  He needed to be careful.  Maybe.  Maybe just to hell with it, that’s what Secondo would say. 

Suddenly Phil’s head turned, and he looked up.  “Oh, the show is going to start soon.” 

Stevie looked at him strangely.  She hadn’t heard anything announcement, but maybe he just knew from experience.

The ghoul offered her his arm once again.  “Come along, you’ll have the best seat in the house.”  He said and led her out into the wide hallway that led to the stage. 

The band ghouls were already near the stage entrance, a couple already wearing their instruments.  Stevie could hear the crowd, and it sounded massive even over the speakers playing loud metal overhead. 

The ghouls glanced at Phil and noticed immediately he had the woman’s arm locked in with his own.  One of the taller ones with a bass nearby him caught Phil’s eye and immediately formed a heart with his fingers, batting his eyelashes under his mask.  Phil made a throat cutting gesture at him, hidden from view of Stevie.  The bigger ghoul laughed. 

That was when Papa Secondo emerged flanked by two ghoulettes who were helping him ensure his miter and robes didn’t get caught on anything. 

Secondo’s harem was with him of course.  Before they got near to the ghouls and Stevie though, he appeared to dismiss them with a pat to the backside for all three.  “Dolce amores, off with you.  Papa must perform without such distractions.”  

The imposing figure of Secondo was made more so with the height added by his mitre.  One of the ghouls took the staff he was carrying so he could ensure his robes were in order.  He glanced over and saw Stevie and Phil and immediately he smiled, which was unnerving with the skull painted on his face.  “Ah!  Bella!  You are here to see Papa rock the pants off everyone here?”

Stevie couldn’t help it she grinned.  He was unashamedly cocksure and overt in everything he did.  “I am indeed Papa.”  She replied.

He quickly came over and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing them against her knuckles, glancing quickly over to Phil who was standing as stiff as a board.  “Bene, bene.  I shall make this performance extra special for you cara.  Perhaps you will…lose your pants.”  

Phil let out a small growl and quickly interjected.  “No one will be losing their pants…”. 

Stevie was still laughing and noticed the Papa was still not letting her hand go.  “Well…the pants will be staying on Papa it sounds like, but I look forward to the rocking.”  

Secondo had heard the growl, and he could tell that his attentions to the lovely woman were rankling the ghoul.  Good, he needed to be rankled.  She was worthy of jealousy, of being fought over if needed.  Secondo was not cruel, but if Phil wanted such a woman, he needed to earn her.  He needed to realize if he felt truthfully this desire.  This was as much for her sake as for the ghouls.  The Papa would not allow her to be hurt by anyone, that included a ghoul who could become fickle.  And Secondo was more than willing to give attention to the principessa who was as charming as he remembered and who stirred more than a little interest in himself.

“Grazie cara.  I promise to rock you…like a hurricane.”  He winked at her placing one more kiss on her pale knuckles, leaving behind two black lip prints.  He turned then, taking his staff from the ghoul.  He quickly spoke in Italian to the band ghouls, and they moved to an area away where they gathered in a circle for their pre-ritual ritual of prayer to the dark lord for a good show.

Phil stayed near Stevie, trying not to give in to the urge to throttle his Papa.  Firstly, he’d get in trouble with…well…everyone.  But also, he needed to perform tonight, and Phil didn’t want to deal with the riot that would break out if that didn’t happen.  

Stevie was still grinning at the interaction.  “He’s quite the character.”  She said, turning to Phil.

“That’s…one word.”  He replied, noticing the lip prints on her hand.  He held back another growl and then pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket.  “Here, he…left some of his face behind.”

Stevie glanced down.  “Oh, he did.  Thank you.”  She wiped away the kiss prints and handed the silky cloth back to Phil.  

“Prego.”  He replied, putting it back in his pocket.  “They will be heading on stage soon, come with me and I’ll take you to your seat for the show.”

Phil led Stevie to an area just on the other side of the curtain where there were some seats waiting.  Secondo’s trio were sitting in the back row of the six total chairs.  Phil gestured to Stevie to take her seat and he settled next to her.  From the angle they had they could see the stage slightly off to the side and part of the audience.  The crowd were excited and then the lights went off and hell broke loose to rock the beaming faces of the fans to their souls.  

Stevie was in awe of what she was seeing.  The music was amazing and felt like a living thing in her chest.  Secondo knew how to play a crowd.  He was sinister, seductive, and a showman.  

Phil watched the ritual, not even sure how many he’d been witness to in his time.  He glanced over at this guest and raised a brow behind his mask.  She was mouthing along with the lyrics, eyes shining in the limited backstage light.  Stevie was rocking back and forth in her chair to the beat and for a moment he was concerned she’d slip.  He leaned down, having to speak a little loudly.  “Enjoying the show?”  

Stevie turned in surprise, finding his mask very near to her ear.  “This is freaking fantastic!”  She grinned, eyes wide and gleaming with happiness.  She’d forgotten the bullshit from earlier in the day, the depression spiral left behind for now.  She was focusing on the performance and just letting herself enjoy it.  “Thank you so much for inviting me!”  She never did have very good control of what she called her squee level.  This was a 10 for sure.  Secondo had an amazing voice on top of it all and the ghouls were maestros with their instruments and voices as well.   She’d have kicked her own ass if she’d skipped this like an idiot.  

She reached over and gave the ghoul’s arm a squeeze.  “Really, thank you.  I…didn’t know how much I needed to just have fun.”  She said, leaning close to his ear.  

Phil felt a shudder rundown his spine directly to the end of his tail.  Her fingers on his wrist, her warm breath against his ear and her equally warm voice was making his thoughts not appropriate for public. 

Ghouls were very much physical affection creatures.  Phil hated to admit it, but it came from being considered pets to so many of the infernal kingdom’s inhabitants.  Millenia spent finding solace in packs, being used for pleasures by those that summoned them, the frequent worship orgies that would break out and the ghouls would be asked or required to join.  This added up to within his demonic DNA there being a lot of need to touch and be touched. 

He’d tamped this down over the years with a lot of concentration and focus.  It had been…a long time…since he’d had a relationship with anyone, ghoul or human.  And right then, this innocent gesture was breaking down every carefully constructed control he had within himself.

“You’re welcome, Stevie.”  He replied.  Oh Dark Lord, let me have this go well.  Don’t let me fuck this up royally.  Phil settled back into his chair as Stevie turned back to the stage.  He did not though watch the concert.  Instead he watched her watching it, a steady warmth running over his normally cool skin at her excitement and joy. 

When the concert was over after three encores (he was sure Secondo would be bringing that up constantly over the next few days)  Phil stood up and offered a hand to Stevie.  The director chairs while comfortable where not the most stable things in the world. 

“I take it that the concert met all expectations?”  He asked her.

“I would say for certain it did.  Again, I can’t thank you enough.  I can’t believe I was going to just…not go.”  Stevie’s eyes fell to the scarred black floor of the backstage.  The magic was going to be over soon, and she’d have to go home from the ball.

Phil looked at her strangely.  “Why would you not want to attend?”  He asked as he led her back towards the green room. 

She shook her head.  “It had been a long day and…well…typical depression spiral stuff I guess you’d say.” 

Phil detected an opening.  He had a feeling he knew what the depression spiral was from.  They arrived at the green room, and he was happy to see it was empty.  The band ghouls would be heading to their hotel rooms for the night and Secondo would be going to his suite after getting his paints and wardrobe changed.  They actually had a day off tomorrow as the buses needed to be tuned up so Phil had no doubt that Secondo’s suite would be party central in a couple of hours. 

“Would you like a drink?”  He asked her, “I figured your throat might be a little parched after all that whooping.” 

Stevie nodded laughing.  She had no doubt she’d have a hard time talking tomorrow.  “Coke Zero is fine.”  She replied, “Thank you.”  She flopped down on the couch.  Looking around she realized she hadn’t been alone with her host ghoul this entire time really.  It was ear ringingly quiet now with the concert over and so many people off taking down equipment or recuperating from the performance. 

Phil walked back over and handed her a cold can of soda, his own opened with a straw sticking out of it for ease of drinking in the mask.  He sat down a respectable distance away though he felt that internal need growing to be closer.  He gripped the can in his hand tightly as a thought of nuzzling her neck entered his head and he quickly punted it away.  Apparently this attraction was awakening all of those instincts he’d buried down to do his job properly over the last few decades…and they wanted to make up for lost time.

“It’s amazing that your crew is able to tear all of this down so fast.”  Stevie commented as she glanced over at Phil.  He seemed..tense?  Even if she couldn’t see his face his body seemed coiled suddenly.

“They’re fantastic at what they do.”  He worked the straw under his mask and took a welcome swig of Mello Yello.  “We’re lucky that we have tomorrow off while the tour buses are getting checked out…so it’s not the normal chaos of packing up and then driving out the same night.” 

Stevie looked surprised.  “Oh, so you all are sticking around here tomorrow?” 

Phil hoped he wasn’t imagining the tone of being pleased in her voice.  He swiveled himself to face her on the couch.  “The city is not free of us yet…and Satan help us Secondo has a suite.”  He told her.  She laughed and Phil was quickly finding that a favorite sound.  He’d heard laugher many times during his many years existing  and probably even more screams.  But Stevie’s laughter was genuine, pure, and as warm as she was. 

What no one outside of the Ministry knew was that ghouls were inherently cold.  They were cool to the touch and their bodies were simply cold-blooded.  Phil didn’t care for the way some of the clergy described it as being like a lizard…even if he did have some scales here and there.  Hell was a warm place.  It wasn’t a secret.  So ghouls taken out of that environment had to deal with the fact they were no longer in that climate.  They felt cold or chilly to many, hence the gloves and typically wearing long sleeves and jackets.  Why would they want to be warm blooded when they lived in hell? 

This was also tied to that desire for physical contact so many had.  Body heat, warmth, ghoul piles, dark lord help him, snuggling and cuddling.  Ghouls were attracted to the warmth, and he was very much a ghoul.  And right now he was having a hard time fighting the urge.     

“I do have to admit I had an ulterior motive for inviting you to the show.”  He said carefully.  He noticed immediately when her eyes widened.  “I wanted to ask you something.”

Stevie was glad she’d swallowed her sip of Coke, so she wasn’t choking at the way his voice managed to drop an octave to deliver that bit of news.  “Oh…uhm…okay?”  She placed her can on the table and turned to face him as he had done for her. 

The scent of nervousness mixed with excitement and curiosity was suddenly flooding his senses.  And he thought he caught the faint deliciousness of a sudden…arousal?  Control yourself Phil…don’t you dare scare her off. 

“I wanted to offer you a job.”  He said carefully.  “I’ve spoken with Secondo, and he agrees it would be a good fit for you and…us.”  His green eyes watched her expressions carefully. 

Stevie was shocked.  This was not what she had expected at all when she’d come to the show.  If anything she was readying herself to go back to the real world after tonight.  But here was her masked host offering her a chance to stay in Wonderland.  “I…wow…uh…what, what job?  I mean…I have a job already, but you know that.”  Oh god why are you being an idiot.

Phil nodded.  The nerves were becoming more prominent.  “Yes, I do know that.”  He placed his can on the table next to hers.  “And that’s partly what motivated this.”  Carefully he moved a scoot closer to her.  “They aren’t treating you well Stevie.  I saw this.  You told me all I needed to hear.”  He glanced away for a moment, seeing in her eyes a sort of embarrassment at the truth.  He didn’t want to make her feel bad, just the opposite.  “And in all honesty, you deserve far better than them.” 

He turned back to her.  “I want you to be the face of our press.  I want you to talk when it isn’t Secondo or one of the band.  I want you to be the other face of Ghost.  You pick who gets to talk to who…you are in control.”   Phil watched the surprise fill her eyes, her expression.  For a moment he thought he heard her heart start thundering in her chest. 

Stevie let his words sink in to her brain and she was speechless.  What he was offering was massive.  It was everything she’d ever wanted and more.  But in the back of her mind she could just see three letters.  WHY.  She took a breath, glancing down at the cushions and then back up to him.  “But…I…why?”  She finally asked him, and the words were as fragile as glass.

Phil swallowed at the sudden feeling that slipped like a needle into his chest.  His fingers gripped the back of the couch where he’d rested his arm to keep from trying to pull her into a hug.  Not appropriate right now…no…that’s a no…no hugging. 

But his other hand reached out on instinct.  He stopped it before he could caress her cheek though he wanted to so badly.  His voice was softer when he answered her.  “Because you should be seen Stevie.” 

[naomiknight-17]

At the vet now. The appointment isn't for an hour yet but Tim was acting lethargic and foaming and breathing shallow and I got really worried and brought him in right away

I think he's either constipated or has a urinary blockage, but I'm not a doctor. It could be anything

They took him into the back so vet techs can keep an eye on him and check his vitals and such while we wait for the vet

Please send good vibes

[hyena-shark-rusty]

Intro!

REQUESTS ARE: CLOSED! Please read the terms of requesting below :]

Hello!! You can call me Rusty or Tyler!

I'm hyenakin, dragonkin, shark kin and computerkin!!

This is a blog for requests; I take requests for typing quirks, NPTs, usernames, and occasionally draw theriotypes, fictotypes and kintypes!!

Terms of Requests:

For typing quirk, username and NPT requests: tell me your source and kintype, whether you want masc, fem or neutral-leaning names, and any other extra bits you want included with your request (e.g. Typing quirks for a computerkin with fem name and themes of blue and ones and zeros, NPTs for a fictionkin of Needles from TMAGP with masc names themes of love and sharp objects, etc). You may only request one thing per ask, but you can send in multiple asks.

I won't do anything related to real people (actors, celebrities, etc) but I will do things related to bands and music! (An NPT related to Blink-182 with grungy themes, NPTs related to the song King for a Day by PTV, etc) Find an example here! Note, these will be based on the vibes I get from the band / their music, not the real members!

Things I will draw:

Tech! Computers, machines, etc.

Literally any animal

Bugs! (not guaranteed to be good though)

Feral or anthro characters / fursonas

Humans / Humanoids

Things I won't draw:

Suggestive content / NSFW

Gore

Fetish art

Hate speech

You can find more information about and options for drawing requests here.

Whitelist (my favourite things, asks with these get prioritised if I'm low on motivation):

Faith: The Unholy Trinity

How to train your dragon (!!!!!)

Music / Bands (MCR, blink-182, Radiohead, limp bizkit, KoRn...)

Fight Club

Brokeback Mountain

Minecraft (the game itself, not including content creators)

Tech (computers, programs, typewriters, etc)

Arcane

Doctor Who

Blacklist:

Real people (excluding bands and music)

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

DSMP

Harry Potter

Genshin Impact

Object Show

Claimed Anon Sign offs: (feel free to claim one!!)

iamgod anon

🕊️ anon

🎨 anon

🌙 anon

🔎🗝 anon

⚔️ anon

👠🧪 anon

mad hatter anon

false 🎨 anon

👽 anon

🌟 anon

🌙🖤 anon

👁⭐️ anon

🩸🗡 anon

🦴🔗 anon

🪚🩸 anon

Thanks,

Rusty

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

please send good vibes this way. I had to drop off my dog at the vet for an emergency visit and the vet tech made a comment that eluded to a very bad diagnosis. I have to wait until later today to hear from the vet but I’m now stewing over what they said. so good vibes for my dog would really be appreciated.

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove, get well soon!

When you feel better may I please see more of peoples replies for the "who would you wife up" question, it's so cool seeing peoples' reasoning!

As for me, I really love Rook and Idias energy, but I don't know that I'd be compatible with either of them. Hear me out..

I would love researching into random peoples profiles and stuff with Rook. Like I can match his freak. But I don't this I'm positive enough to be with him realistically. I'm really pessimistic and anti-social(plus such bad social anxiety). Someone loving literally everything makes them loving me feel less special.

I love nerds like Idia. Especially about tech, like I'm not smart in that way but yap to me about it, that's hot. I'm really nerdy in other ways though, like I love gaming. I get overstimulated around kids though so as much as I like Ortho, I know I would get tired of not having constant alone time with Idia.

I feel like Malleus would be most compatible with me of everyone. Plus he's older in age which I'm really attracted too. He would be clingy but respectful of me needing alone time but also not wanting to socialize with others. We could nerd out about old architecture styles together too. Lilia would so jump scare me constantly though, cus I'm a jumper.

I would totally be besties with Floyd, and maybe Jade too, Floyd seems like he has BPD and I love the energy he gives off. Plus bear hugs!! Oh, and I love mushrooms and hiking, so Jade and I would rant about it together. Plus I don't mind being close to people with corrupt morals except for their close ones(like how they're close to Azul but will f*ck over everyone else, I vibe with that loyalty), so yeah, thinking about it I'd also be really compatible with them too.

I've been answering them as they come, if I'm not posting any it's bc people aren't sending them!! 😭

as for you I LOVE THIS. I love the super in-depth analysis/explanations for all, and I love how grounded and realistic it is!!

"someone loving literally everything makes them loving me feel less special" YES!!! you understand rook's character better than 80% of the people in this fandom. good reasoning for idia, you get that ortho is non-negotiable and is such a big part of idia's life that he would /have/ to be involved in the relationship in one way or another. perfect reasoning for malleus 10/10 character assessment in regards to yourself. MORE OF THIS!!!

[carionto]

"Trisha's Log, Day... I don't dare keep up anymore..."

Part 1 2 3 4 5

(Haespar: It's day two. Trisha: Stop ruining my vibe, you're still dead. Haespar: Yes, and I'm haunting you. With facts. Trisha: *hisses*)

"IT HAS BEEN AN INDETERMINABLE NUMBER OF DAYS since I began this expedition, now turned struggle for survival. I've lost Emily and am actively searching for her, but having not had a bite to eat in weeks and running low on water, I don't know if I'll succeed. To whoever finds this-" (Emily: I got the remote power module. And some snacks, here. Haespar: Ooh, melon flavored, my favorite. Thank you very much, Emily. Trisha: *already chowing down on some cheese sticks* Dankss Ehmilhy, yhour da bhest. *gulp* Where was I? Haespar: Starving despair and loneliness. Trisha: Right! Emily, you're currently gone, so just be your usual self and the audience won't know.)

"If you've found this log, I am dead. I died while carrying out my vital mission and searching for my lovely assistant, but failed catastrophically. Unless you're listening to this from a library archive, in which case I totally succeeded and became an awesome legend!"

Trisha continues to detail all of her future exploits and galaxy spanning quest for vengeance, love, mystery, and cake.

Meanwhile:

Haespar: Alright, adjust the telemetry of this unit to the one Valencio cooked up yesterday, and that should hook the biological scanners back up to the bridge. Emily: Done. Haespar: Excellent. *taps his datapad* Ira, bio scans are up on our end, confirm? Ira: Yup, all green. Reading you three down there nice and clean. Trisha's a bit heated up. Monologuing? Haespar: About her imminent demise after years aboard this derelict. Ira: *chuckles* Alright, good to know. While you're there, check on the tertiary power splitter two floors down, the main one up here is acting up a little. Haespar: Will do. Hmm? What's wrong, Emily? Emily: It's flickering between 27 and 28. Haespar: What? Emily: The number of lifesigns aboard.

Trisha: WHOA WHOA WHOA!!! Legit mystery time! *gently into the recorder* (Pause on seducing one of the heads of the three headed corrupt banker to blackmail him for trade secrets only to learn the evil tech startup was a Illuminati cabal all along) Let me see, where is this mystery life dot.

Haespar: It's jumping all over, is there a pattern yet, Emily? Emily: Need to log more data, but doesn't feel like it.

Trisha: It is popping up for a few seconds and disappears for about four times as long though. Hey, isn't that kinda like how you'd do a radio connection attempt? Brute force every frequency range. Oh wait, but then you'd just do all at the same time. Hacking maybe? Trying to get into a specific system without tripping any alarms?

Emily *into her comms unit*: Ira, please send an all frequency ping at these intervals towards us.

Ira: Alright, *shouting* Valencio, give Emily these pings. *normal again* Should be sorted in a tick, what's that about anyway?

Haespar: The lifesign readings are being weird, showing a 28th at regular intervals in random locations. Could be one of the system we haven't checked yet is acting funny and somehow interfering wi- Emily: Wait. It stopped flickering. A 28th. On the bridge. *To comms* Ira?

Ira: Uhh, yeah. I'm looking at him.

???: Hello, my name is Professor Iorvan Hal'Ahmat Garaamhan. Thank you for answering my call.

Continue->

[innbetween]

Please numbers 40 and 299, thank you muchly

Fantastic choices.

Chinook is a thriller set in small town Montana twenty years ago about religion, abuse, and clawing your way to the truth by any means necessary. It's a great show, but I will say that it looks like all but the first ep is behind a paywall now. I think it'd be worth it to pay for Wondery Plus or whatever the heck for a month to listen to it--it's so good--but your mileage may vary. Listen to the first ep on their free feed and then decide.

The Grove is one that totally slipped under the radar as far as I can tell. It's like, corporate fantasy, what happens when you mess with ancient magic as a tech startup. I thought it was fantastic. I haven't seen Severance but I feel like the vibes might be similar.

Send me a number between 1 and 307 and I will recommend an audio drama!

[flowering-darkness]

More Antares facts from earlier today, because I was thinking about her more (still):

You know how I was originally going to design her around the theme of a “joker” because of Ace representing the rest of the deck as the card suits? And then didn’t really go anywhere with that, instead ending up with more of a tech-y/modern vibe? ..Yeah, it turns out I can still tie her in, because both decks and computers share the concept of a wildcard. Which also fits the fact she’s essentially a “rogue” part of the whole system, owing to the fact that she technically shouldn’t exist if Adriana also does (because she is the Adriana of this timeline, except tampered with by Lin).

(This technically means her real/not-codename should also be Adriana, but I think that would just be too confusing to actually use. So I’m just going to keep calling her Antares. It’s like how Eclipse’s name is Caitlyn, but she always gets called Eclipse by everyone.)

On the note of “rogue”, I don’t really want to overlap with Zero too much, so I was thinking that Antares’ Trainer title might be something like Meteor Peacekeeper. It’s meant to be somewhat ironic, and is also a play on her codename - “Antares” means “enemy of Ares”, and Ares is the Greek god of war (as I mentioned before), so the enemy of war could be peace, right?

If I don’t go with that, my current other idea is Meteor Enforcer - I think both convey similar ideas of her being someone Team Meteor sends out solo to do various things. I’m not sure if she changes titles during the story - I know Taka does for example, but I still haven’t properly put her in the story really, so.. this may have to come later.

What I have so far thought of for the story is that she maybe shows up more on Zekrom Route than Reshiram (possibly as your other companion for Tourmaline?), and subsequently Lin Route more than Anna in the postgame. This makes her more of an inversion of my existing self-insert, Adriana. Any exact details are still up in the air, though.

If I were to describe her personality by comparing it to those of my other self-inserts, she very much fills the same niche that Aria (for KH) or Catarina (for FE3H) would. I’ve noticed I tend to end up with a “nice” and a “mean” self-insert, or a “good” and an “evil” self-insert, in a lot of situations where I have more than one for the same game/setting - Linaria vs. Aria, L’nahrii vs. Lorenza, Lamia vs. Alectra, maybe even Telanthera vs. Alise, and so on. In this case, for Reborn, Adriana fits the “Linaria-type” nice role, so Antares can now fit the “Aria-type” mean role.

Sorry for being like this over my own self-insert, but I like it when other people are like this, so I figured that since I currently have the ability to be similar in this case, I would indulge in it. If anyone has any particular questions then please know you can always ask!

[loganlermanstanaccount]

6K Followers Event - PRESS PLAY

Thank you all for 6k subs! It means the world to me that people enjoy my fics enough to give such consistent support - I really, really couldn't have done it without y'all ❤️❤️

To celebrate 6k, I will be taking requests (for fics/ drabbles based on songs! cuz it's fun lmfao) and writing a part 2 to at least one of my oneshots. This event will be in two parts: Requests and Voting!

(Main Masterlist) (Event Masterlist)

Requests

- Send me a request based on a song!

Tape 1, Side A: love, love, love,

(listen here)

my favourite straight-up love songs

tracklist

track 01: My Kind of Woman // Mac DeMarco

track 02: Daze // Steve Lacy

track 03: We Might Even Be Falling in Love // Victoria Monet

track 04: Romanticist // Yves Tumor

track 05: Amor Prohibido // Selena

track 06: Crush On You // Lil' Kim

track 07: Baby, This Love I Have // Minnie Riperton

track 08: Seaforth // King Krule

track 09: Fraulein // Chuck Berry

track 10: Pilot Jones // Frank Ocean

track 11: La Ciruela // Nico Play

Tape 1, Side B: ...and other stories.

(listen here)

angsty, heart-wrenching; songs that tell a different story about love.

tracklist

track 01: Lover, You Should've Come Over // Jeff Buckley

track 02: Baby Blue // King Krule

track 03: King // Dreamer Isioma

track 04: Shot My Baby // Daniel Caesar

track 05: Mojo Pin // Jeff Buckley

track 06: Jonny // Faye Webster

track 07: Seigfried // Frank Ocean

track 08: Carry Me Out // Mitski

track 09: No Me Queda Mas // Selena

track 10: Show You A Body // Haley Henderickx

Rules for Requests:

- You must: send in a song, from the tracklist or otherwise. I'm happy to take song requests and add to the tracklist - all I ask is that it fits the "vibe" of either Side A or Side B.

- You must: Specify which tape side, A or B. To clarify: Side A: fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, all about love! Side B: heavy angst, hurt / comfort, happy ending or otherwise.

I tried to pick songs with potential for different stories - so give my playlists a listen to understand the "vibes" and also cuz I spent so so long creating them, I'm begging y'all 😭

- You must: Provide an x reader pairing! I mainly write for Miguel O'Hara, Joel Miller and Finnick Odair, but I'm more than happy to write other pairings - check tags for the fandoms I'll write.

- Other than that, be as specific or vague as you'd like. Give me a specific line from the song, a trope / prompt, etc etc. or don't! go crazy lmfao.

- NSFW is allowed for either category, please specify, but as always: 18+ for those kind of requests.

- Most of these will be drabbles, around 500 words or so; but I tend to get carried away with prompts so no promises 🤞

- I will write as many that catch my eye, with a few of my own ideas as well :)

(i am still taking other requests, but prioritising the ones for this follower event for the time being)

Voting

Please vote for a oneshot of mine that you'd like to see a part 2 of! This does not mean I won't write a second part for the other fics at all, it just tells me what to prioritise.

(Main Masterlist) (Event Masterlist)

I already have some stuff planned, but please give me some time to write all of this up – unfortunately, I am a slow writer with a whole ass job. This will be an ongoing event, just a little project I will chip away at.

Reblogs are appreciated, thanks everyone!

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[questforgalas]

Hellooooo ✨ I'm here for the TBB Finale celebration!!! I can't believe we got here...

My favorite episodes are:

S1E1: Aftermath - this one has to be among the list. It's the one that started it all, and the way this episode sets everything up and the way it's written is top tier for me.

S1E4: Cornered - one of my most rewatched episodes. Even though there's no Crosshair in this one, it's a major comfort episode for me. When I think back to the times I rewatched TBB season 1 in my room back home, I often picture this particular episode.

S1E11 & S1E12: Devil's Deal and Rescue on Ryloth. I love the Ryloth arc for many reasons: Crosshair, Hera, Chopper, Howzer, the Tech TurnTM, but also, Rescue on Ryloth was the first episode of TBB that physically made me cry. It was the moment when Crosshair looks at the ship Hunter and the others are on and then he looks away for a moment looking so sad - hey, I lost it. Before that, I never actually cried with anything fictional before, so I was shocked (all teary and weeping over Crosshair but also questioning "why is liquid coming out of my eyes???") that it had happened but I also realized just how much the show meant to me.

S1E15: Return to Kamino - painful as it was, this is one of the episodes I've rewatched the most for the great writing, the music, and all the good Crosshair moments.

S2E3: The Solitary Clone - CROSSHAIR EPISODE YAY

S2E4: Faster - TECH EPISODE WITH PHANTOM MENACE POD RACING NOSTALGIA VIBES YAY

S3E3, S3E4, & S3E5: Shadows of Tantiss, A Different Approach, The Return - this arc where Crosshair and Omega escape and return with Clone Force 99 made me physically feel the chemicals coursing through my brain. These three episodes just have so much soul to them and it was also incredibly meaningful to see Crosshair going home. In case you don't know this about me, the whole subject of "going home" is really near and dear to me so these three episodes were hitting all the soft spots in my little heart.

THIS TURNED OUT VERY LONG hehehe thank you for doing this little celebration ❤️ I had a nice time reflecting on my favorite arcs.

FENNEC SHAND MY BELOVED ughhhh Cornered, such a good episode! I loved getting to see the boys first dealings with the galaxy as civilians and learning the hard way that some children need to be put on a leash (coming from a former leash child)

I’m also a sucker for the Ryloth arc. I in general loved the series pattern of one episode mid season being very world building and less about the Batch, let alone young Hera and meeting Howzer was SUCH a cool story to do.

Solitary Clone my beloved. Shot down the barrel? Marry me please

The beginning half of season 3 was perfection and I love the episodes you chose. The Crosshair and Omega dynamic was so touching and so well done. And The Return replays in my head constantly, I love it so much

Thanks for playing!!!

Reblog, reply, or send an ask of your favorite TBB episodes and/or arcs!

[crab-people-overlord]

Intro 🧡

guess I might as well do an intro

diagnosed adhd software engineer here (🩷💜💙, english + español) coming to you from the Rocky Mountains (where rich people's empty ski condos are literally everywhere and driving up costs….. pls send help)

writing stuff + ao3 link

just finished a canon-adjacent story about the main kids. it’s a short story that I had so much fun writing :) and I hope to focus on more short stories in the future.

also doing a south park/good place crossover because why not

wrote this thing called "the cultish conundrum" which... exists... (planning to rewrite it someday when i git gud™️) (wrote this when I knew NOTHING of fandom so I did try to be canon-compliant but knew nothing of creative writing when I first started, so I hope to revisit to rewrite it to be actually… good one day lol)

Also if you’re an ao3 writer of your own and want me to kudos/comment just lmk!! I know this isn’t an excuse but my adhd makes it so bad for me to read others works but if I’m instructed to I genuinely love it and want to support y’all as from what I’ve seen, there’s SO many talented SP writers out there that I genuinely want to support so badly but am literally so bad at committing when there’s so many choices lmao

quick stats:

mid 20s and fresh out of college (studied computer sci so bear w me if I sound too tech bro; I won’t be offended if you call me out for doing something wrong as I not only don’t get offended easily, but acknowledge I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing since literally the only time I’ve had social media in the past is when I would look at tumblr in middle school cuz it allowed porn it im being real with you 👀) im prob never going to get a twitter account

9w8 ISTP (took the official tests in college tho acknowledge it’s only slightly scientific lol)

ex-mormon who served a mission (emphasis on the ‘ex’- 🫡 🥲 god the stories I have lmfao. also I may or may not talk too much about the BoM musical because of this - sorry, not sorry)

works in tech and works from home

builds legos and games most nights (i wanna learn new hobbies besides this, hence the whole trying to learn how to write thing. pls bear with me- i BS’d my way through English classes in college lol)

so yeah!! south park has basically been my comfort show/emotional support media for as long as i can remember. like it's literally been keeping me sane through… everything. I’ll respect any ship in the fandom (unless it’s something really weird like the things ‘pro shippers’ are for? But I’ll be honest I literally haven’t run into any of this and don’t plan on searching for it lmfao. And no, I don’t view ‘kyman’ as a ‘pro ship’ when done right, so I respect it (aside from the weird ass nazi folks who I will never get along with but thank god I haven’t run into those folks… and I’d like to keep it that way 🥲)

absolutely down to chat about anything!! just use my ask box or dm if you're 18+ (minors please no dm). This blog will likely stay sfw, but it may occasionally not be! I’ll tag when it’s not, but this is your warning now. i promise i'm super chill and just here to vibe with other cool humans who don't tolerate any transphobic/racist/etc behavior. I don’t ever do social media (aside from TikTok to share guitar covers but im way too pussy to face reveal here), but just want to connect with others in the fandom so here I am 👋

not here for any drama and will respect ships in the fandom though i am partial to style (what got me to look into the fandom space in the first place, though even here love their sbf relationship first and foremost before anything romantic as i only recently started shipping them. When I say im new to fandom romantic shipping of any kind, I truly mean it lmfao)

also I like writing meta posts, but just know I do it all for fun and that I completely understand and respect that my opinions are just that- opinions. at the end of the day it’s just a silly show and that’s the fun of fandom- being able to share these