#which in turn makes loop reveal their identity

[nidbaesenpai]

Loop joining the friends on their leisure journey around Vaugarde: It's only for a day then we'll part ways. Just a super brief visit, in and out. I can totally be normal about them.

Loop around the campfire watching everyone laugh: Oh yeah these are the people I died a thousand times for. I better leave now, I cannot be normal about them.

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (01)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch warnings none !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 01 ¡ 02

“Wake up, we’re here.” Ryan nudged your side, observing as your parents unloaded the trunk, arguing over the amount of luggage each one of you brought. “Get up, Bug, mom is gettin’ mad.” 

Ryan gave you a harsh push, disturbing your slumber as you jolted up from your seat. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, eyeing your surroundings with haze, a mere attempt to make sense of the new setting that encircled the Airbnb your parents ranted. 

It was a beautiful view, the sight of the beach not too far away, ocean breeze heading in your direction. Ryan’s figure instantly filled your vision, earning a low grumble out of you. You tucked your hair out of your face, stretching out your arms over your head.

“You slept through the whole ride.” Your brother scoffed, gathering the crumbled candy wrappers from the cup holder. “Help mom! She’s really mad, why’d you bring so many luggages?” 

“Don’t piss me off,” you mumbled, kicking his knee, the gesture causing the latter to stumble back. “Move.” 

You shuffled out of your seat, hopping out of the car. The place was surprisingly big– not for a family of four, that’s for sure. An unfamiliar car was parked in the driveway, the sight earning a puzzled expression out of you. 

“Is someone else here?” You questioned, attention shifting to Ryan, who was busy tidying your side of the vehicle. “Who’s that car for?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Ryan shot back, furrowing his eyebrows with confusion. “What, you thought we’d be here on our own?” 

“Wasn’t that what we had in plans?” You mumbled, strolling towards the creaked door. You peaked your head inside, an audible gasp escaping your throat when you spotted your parents chatting with a middle aged couple, whom you would assume were the guests staying with you. Their identities remain a mystery as they were faced away, unable to recognize them with only the back of their heads. You turned to face Ryan, whispering your next sentence. “There’s people inside.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” He rolled his eyes, shutting the door to the car. He approached you, squeezing by as he let himself inside. “You think I’m spending the next two months stuck with only you? Hell no.” 

“God, we should’ve let you rot on campus.” You groaned, following behind him. You remained as quiet as physically possible, not wanting to capture the elders’ attention, aware of the conversation they planned on dragging you to. 

While walking up the stairs, you winced, as the suitcase you carried collided into the wood on your way up, creating a thud. Your gaze shifted to where your parents stood, a sigh of relief escaping your throat when you noticed they were still accompanied by the couple to their side. 

You carefully settled your suitcase down, dragging it along as you observed each room, deciding which one would suit you best. You came to a halt once one caught your eye, growing intrigued as you opened the door all the way through, revealing the layout of the furnitured space. 

“Pretty.” You whispered to yourself, tracing the designed light switch with your fingers. 

“Not bad,” Ryan replied, his presence startling you. “Good choice, this room is actually mine.” 

“I was here first!” Your face twisted with annoyance, watching as your brother leaned against the wall, now facing you. “It’s my room, not yours.”

“Oh, we’re going there?” He warned, cocking his head to the side. “I’ll tell dad about the time you sneaked out every day for an entire month, and made me cover for you whenever you got in trouble.”

“That was four years ago,” you reasoned, huffing at his ridiculous threat. “Besides, you’ve done worse. Remember all the marijuana you hid in my room? Or did we forget about that?” 

“Okay– that was–” Ryan stammered, slumping his shoulders as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about that.”

“Whatever, get out of my room.” You shoved his arm, the contact earning a dramatic gasp out of him. “Go complain somewhere else, I’m not giving you this room.”

“C’mon, Bug!” He whined, resisting the hands pressing to his back, forcing him out of the room. “There’s better rooms, why do you want this one specifically?!”  

“Probably for the same reason you do.” You exclaimed, sighing once you gave Ryan one last push, the action causing him to stumble out into the narrow hallway. “And stop calling me that, I’ll kill you if you refer to me as Bug in front of everybody.” 

“Everyone calls you Bug.” He clicked his teeth, fixing the collar of his shirt. “I forget that your name isn’t Bug sometimes, you know, jus’ used to it.” 

“Are you trying to distract me right now? ‘Cause it’s not working.” You forced a tight-lipped smile across your face, earning a groan out of Ryan. “Busy yourself with something else, I don’t have time to pamper you.” 

“‘Kay, fuck you then.” He spat out, flipping you off as he walked away. 

You shut the door with a chuckle, taunted by your brother’s lash out. You placed your luggage on the bed, growing confused when you noticed the bed was slightly undone, indicating someone clearly had been there. You brushed it off, thinking it was Ryan’s doing, as you were too exhausted to further process it. 

You searched through your suitcase, acquiring your everything-shower bag. You set it to the side, retrieving a clothing set, one suitable to be seen in, and comfortable enough to get you through the night. 

Once you had everything you needed, you grabbed your belongings, freezing when footsteps echoed through your ears. You were painfully aware that this was not Ryan, as you would’ve heard him come in with the click of the door. 

You aimed for your bag, equipping yourself for the hit you planned to swing, now that you sensed your life being at risk. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you had coming as you swiftly turned around, a ragged breath escaping your parted lips at the sight of a certain someone. 

Mere inches away from you stood Rafe, the Rafe Cameron whom you have messaged a few hours from now. You couldn’t believe your eyes, instantly brushing this off as a dream, because there’s no way in hell he was there, half naked, with only a towel hanging low around his hips. A blank expression remained plastered across his face, not too astonished by your presence.

A nervous gulp dried your throat, gaze following the water drop trailing down his exposed chest, on full display, revealing his muscular figure. God, his arms, the photos weren’t doing him justice, because besides his toned body, the man was gorgeous. 

His eyes were a radiant shade of blue, nose slightly pointy, as well as his pink lips, that you wouldn’t describe as big, but just the right size, as you wanted nothing but to lean forward and kiss him, ceasing the unnecessary distance between you. 

You shook the thoughts off, clutching into stuff that you had in hand, instantly growing nervous by the latter as he took a step forward, now towering over you, making you feel small under under his gaze. You glanced up at him, shifting your vision back to his chest when you caught him already staring at you. 

Rafe broke into a grin, amused by how flustered you were, nothing compared to how brave you were over text. He remained in front of you for a moment, awaiting a response out of you, a question perhaps. 

“I…” ah, there it was. “I didn’t know you were in here.” 

“That’s okay,” he reassured, voice dripping with sweetness, that the moment he spoke, you found yourself melting in the spot. “Look at me.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the statement, shifting your gaze back to his face, breath knocking out of your chest when his eyes locked with yours, creating a mess out of you. He leveled himself with your body, adjusting his position where he stood now that he caught your attention. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he hushed out, grogginess visible through his tone. “Bug, was it?” 

Yeah, had you known Rafe Cameron was spending the next two months with you, you would not have shown up, aware of the consequences that came with your feelings. 

How were you supposed to set a limit for yourself when he’s there, existing and looking so attractive while doing it?

a/n prepapre to be sick of me theyre my new obsession!! also i PROMISE i have something planned for the whole bug nickname pls give it a chance ehebhe ei hope you enjoyed wheww im so nervous to publish this

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @starkeydolly @mattyskies @percysley @aariahnaa @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb

lmk if u wanna be added >__< !!

[dreaisgrayte]

Fever | camboy! Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

synopsis: you manage a talented camboy, but your company wants you to do anything in order to make sure his stream is a success. Ugh, why is he so flirty all of the time? It's really starting to get to you.

wc: 4.6k

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, masturbating (live), strip tease, fake identity, blow job, cumming, hair pulling, facial, livestreaming blow job, slight choking

a/n: this is just something to get out there for my bbg Satoru while I work on some other things hehehe. I'm sorry if it's not the best I have a busy night and wanted to post something!

Things were going terrific at your job, in fact managing had never been easier. You tap the end of your pen against the hardwood table, watching the screen in front of you intensely. Pale fingers twist around the belt you’d picked for tonight’s show, pulling the dark leather free from the loops. Electric eyes glance into the camera and your incessant tapping halts. One shaky breath later and the figure on screen stands from his chair, undoing the button of his breaches. They fall off his hips, revealing a tight pair of black boxers. His sweater is thrown to the side next, your eyes following the lines of his muscles. The flushed pink of his nipple particularly catches your attention. A distracted hum rumbles through your throat as you lean back in your chair. 

He slides down into his chair, a black and gold mask covering the majority of his face. What a shame. Your eyes narrow as he glances at the chat, donations streaming in like a group of cats playing with a mouse. A smirk plays with the corners of your mouth as the air changes almost instantly. “Like what you see? Wachin’ me through that screen?” His eyes are trained on the camera. The tip of your pen rests against your bottom lip as you observe. Money floods in while many excited wealthy heirs comment on what he should do next. 

Tonight was just a strip tease, to get people excited for next week’s show. He clicks his tongue, scanning the comments with the ego of a beautiful person getting attention. It was well deserved, he had a knack for this whole selling himself thing. Luckily enough, you’d secured your position in managing his shows. 

You glance at your watch, raising a brow at how much time has already passed. You swipe at a button that signals for him to finish the show. His eyes deviate from the lens slightly, most likely noticing your message. A cocky head tilt and a slight raise of his brows later he’s wishing everyone a good night. Once the camera is off, there are still viewers fluttering around in the comment section with excitement. Well, excitement in more ways than one. 

The door across the room creaks open just as you’re shutting the laptop in front of you. The man that was just on screen now stands before you, now covered in a fuzzy black robe. He groans as he flops down on the sofa across from where you sat. “Good work tonight.” You mutter, clicking your pen closed. He huffs, letting his eyes slowly take in your figure. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I didn’t do much,” His robe slips open slightly as he shifts into a more comfortable position. “M’looking forward to next week. They’re goin’ to go nuts.” He grins to himself. 

You nod in agreement, scrolling through some of the comments on your phone. “You have some big names wanting to see more. Keep up the good work.” You meet your reflection in the black screen of your phone. Your face is stern, almost cold. “Well,” you shove the device into your purse, lifting the corners of your mouth in a pleasant smile. “I’m headed home. See you tomorrow for our meeting, which you totally remembered is at 8?” 

His white fluffy hair almost sags as he curls his lips at the mention of an early morning meeting. “Yes ma’am.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Your mouth ticks in an amused grin, but before he can look up your face goes back to the usual. 

“Goodnight Satoru.” You turn on your heel, reaching for the knob of his apartment door. The night air welcomes you with a melody of traffic and scents that make your stomach growl. 

Mornings were your favorite time to visit cafes. They always seemed to have the best windows that let in the warmth of the sun. You’d arrived earlier than planned with the objective of planning Satoru’s next show. Yet, here you are, basking away in the sun with your eyes shut. If someone passes by they might think you’re asleep – to be honest you wish you were. “Were you so bored without me that sleep was the only option?” Your eyes flutter open, everything a bit too bright for your liking after being in such a peaceful state. 

With the intent of shutting the door behind you, there’s an accidental connection between your eyes. Satoru stands, striding toward his door. He grabs the edge, taking it from your hand. “Goodnight YN, get home safe.”

Satoru stands in front of you, a loose black silken shirt hanging from his frame. He’d tucked the bottom into his fitted black jeans. Laced through the loops was the same belt as last night. Your throat suddenly feels dry as you motion for him to take a seat. He gracefully obliges, scooting the wooden chair under the table. You’re about to start some small talk when his knee brushes against yours. The words you were about to say were fleeing from your brain. You clear your throat, hopeful that it’ll clear your thoughts as well. 

His legs were long, that much was obvious from the sheer height of the man, standing at about 6’3 when he wasn’t slouching. It was slightly alarming to you as it occurs that you’ve seen how muscular his thighs are. Thick and a creamy pink color, untouched by the sun. Your throat bobs as you swallow hard, trying to erase the image of his half-naked body from your mind. Every nerve in your body is attached to the single focal point where your bodies connect. A tingling sensation builds on the back of your neck. 

Warm, he was so warm – like the sun. He stretches his leg further to your side of the table, trapping your legs between his. The buzzing on your neck seemingly drops lower until it bubbles around your tense thighs. You tilt your head, allowing your lips to roll into your business smile. “Was there too much traffic on your way over here?” You question, hoping that talking about mundane things will slow your heart rate, which was honestly annoying you more than much else that had happened today. 

It’s not the first time you’d wanted to be between his legs. Sucking on that perfect cock of his while it blisters your swollen lips. Saliva mixed with pre-cum as he shoves it further down your throat, moaning your name mixed with a melody of explicits. His hands are tangled in your hair, messing the perfect way you’d styled it to appear more professional. Your eyes are rolling back in your head with each choppy thrust into your mouth. You can barely breathe, the only thing keeping you grounded was the tight grip you had on the back of his thighs. 

“But that was pretty much it…” Satoru trails off, drawing his brows together slightly. “You even listenin’?” He waves a hand in front of your dazed expression, ultimately snapping you out of whatever daytime fantasy that was. Your thighs clench together as a slick heat seeps into your core. Satoru doesn’t appear pleased with how you’d practically ignored him. Time to put on your smile again. He clicks his tongue, leaning onto the table. “Think you can get away with that pretty smile of yours?” His voice is low, that intense stare of his lowering to your lips. 

You grab the cup of coffee you’d ordered earlier, bringing the now cold liquid to your mouth. The smooth caramel taste runs down your throat, a light moan of satisfaction breaking the silence. Satoru watches with kept attention, drawing the line of your lips on the cup. Fuckin’ distracting is what it was. “Get away with what Satoru?” You tilt your head, setting the delicate cup back down. It clinks against the tea plate. 

He grunts, briskly sitting back in his chair, and crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a deep breath before looking back toward you. “That smile. It’s dangerous. You should be more careful with it around me.” His voice is low, teasing. It drives you wild.

Tilting your head, you stare at him with a stern expression. “I’ll be sure to put a warning label on it next time, just for you. In fact, I’ll make sure to file a report with HR about my smile being a workplace hazard.” You retort, rolling your eyes at his antics. 

He cocks a grin, amused by this whole scenario. "Go ahead, file the report. But you’ll have to include that you smiled first, so technically, it’s entrapment." Your face drops for a split second before you remember that HR doesn’t exist and you just got nervous about a hypothetical harassment report. 

You take a calm, detached sip from your drink. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to include all the evidence. Your overconfidence will be Exhibit A. Now, can we please continue our meeting?”

Satoru is silent for a beat before a cheesy grin lines his pink lips. "Oh, of course. I’m nothing if not a professional businessman. Let’s talk about what you really want to, my cock." There’s a slight glimmer in his eyes that irks you to no end, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong. 

The notebook in front of you was open to a fresh page with a title of ‘keep em’ cummin’ at the top. Fine wordplay if you do say so yourself. “Yes, well, there’s not much to talk about now is there?” The corner of your mouth twitches with pride in your snide comment. 

For a moment you think he’s not going to acknowledge your obvious lie, but then you feel the tip of his shoe on your ankle. Above the table he looks bored, distantly peering at your notebook as he slides his foot between your shoes. You’re confused for a moment as you watch him cover his mouth and turn his gaze out the window. With a brisk movement, he uses his foot as a fulcrum to briskly spread your legs apart. The action makes you jump in your seat, bringing your knees together to keep some sense of dignity. “You and I both know that isn’t true.” He studies you from the corner of his eye. “Given the chance, you’d love to be one of the props for my shows.” He tilts his head toward you, his face morphing into a smug victory.

You raise your brows, trying to conceal the way your heart jumps wildly in your chest. You wouldn’t let him win so easily. Besides, this was a professional relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet, you can’t help but snap back with "Given the chance, you’d probably love for me to say yes to that, wouldn’t you? Sadly, I’m here to talk about your show Satoru, not audition for it.” It takes all of your energy to calm the thumping in case he could hear it. 

"Talking about my show? Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing? Besides, who says you need to audition? I mean, you’re practically in it already.” He’s quick to lean forward onto the table, looking you up and down. “I’ll make sure to save you a spot in the credits.” He hums, picking up your cup. He leans back, sweetly taking his time to sip the drink. “Feel free to send me a nude, that way when I’m jacking off you’ll know exactly who I’m thinking about.” Your skin heats up at his words, arousal crawling up your spine and sinking its teeth into the back of your neck. The feeling makes you straighten your back and take a shaky breath. 

You hadn’t heard from Satoru since the meeting and weren’t sure of your feelings toward that. It wasn’t your fault he wanted to throw a tantrum during an important business meeting. The whole situation had you doubting being his manager. 

A calm smile replaces your obvious loss of composure. Scoffing breathily you shut the notebook on the table. You knew Satoru was used to getting his way with women, you’d witnessed it firsthand – but you weren’t going to let his attitude go unchecked. “Oh, don’t worry. I already assumed you think about me when you’re alone.” You draw your brows together, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout. “And here I thought you were creative enough to use your imagination. How disappointing.” His smirk falters behind the cup as you push the notebook toward him. “Write down some ideas to make you not be an everyday whore. I think you can do that much, right?” At that, you leave Satoru blinded by what you’d like to call a victory. 

Your windows were glowing with Tokyo city lights, creating a sea of neon. You’re so wrapped up in watching the street below you that you almost don’t hear your phone ringing. You have half the mind just to ignore whoever is calling you at this hour, but as you glance down to read the ID your skin pricks with anxiety. Shit, why was your boss calling you? You pick up your phone, placing it on speaker as you answer the call. “Hello?” You squeak. 

There’s some shuffling on the other side, but Director Yang's all too familiar voice gruffly comes through. “Yes, Ms. YN, we’re calling about Satoru’s show tomorrow. Do you have time to discuss?” A laugh bursts from your mouth and you clamp a hand over your lips. Like you had a choice in the matter. “Are you alright Ms. YN?” He doesn’t sound like he cares at all. 

“Yes, apologies Director Yang, of course, I have time to speak.” You reply quickly. He hums, rolling the noise around in his mouth. It rings through your ears like an alarm bell. 

It sounds like he’s muttering something to another person, and then suddenly he grunts loudly. “I’m assuming you know the severity of Satoru’s success rate? We here at LustLine won’t accept anything less than 10k viewers.” Your blood chills. His introduction rate had been nearly half of that, how did they expect a new streamer to reach numbers for their second stream? Let alone their first explicit one? “You know our expectations for managers Ms. YN, success above all else. You’ll make sure to do everything in your power to ensure a successful stream.” Before you have any time to respond or – hell – ask any questions the phone line disconnects. 

You stare at the black screen of your phone for a long moment of silence. Maybe you were mourning your career or maybe you were mourning your dignity. The screen lights up with a notification. 

Satoru: maybe I am an everyday whore

Linked in his message is a document outlining what he plans to do tomorrow. He’s a fucking genius.

“You ready?” You ask, assessing his outfit one last time. He grins, straightening the waistcoat he was in. Wine em’ and dine em’. Cosplay QNA turns into a horny noble jerking off in secret while at a ball. He was in tight black pants, tall brown boots, an ornate waistcoat, and a fluffy white undershirt. His hair was neat and you’d be damned if he wasn’t the sexiest thing on this planet. Not that you’d ever let him know that.

He places the finishing touch on his face – a masquerade mask – rolling his tongue between his lips. “Hmm, maybe when I’m done we can talk about your audition. I have notes.” His smoldering smile nearly kills you as he nods toward the door. Your face scrunches as his mask slips off his face, but he fixes it quickly. It’s almost enough for you to mention something, but before you can Satoru opens his mouth again. “Well, I’m off to work. Try not to masturbate too much without me, ruins the mood,” He walks a few paces before turning back to give you one last smile. “And the upholstery on that chair was expensive.” He adds, disappearing behind the door. 

You weren’t looking forward to tonight, after whatever happened during the cafe meeting and then that ominous call from your director – moving to the States sounded better than all of this. Dread was starting to fill your stomach as you walked through Satoru’s apartment door. He was waiting there for you, costume in hand, an apology cake in the other. Bottom line he acknowledged that he may have crossed a line… which was weird to hear him say because, in reality, your brain welcomed the thought of his suggestion. It made you feel guilty – having made him pay the bill and come up with a top-notch plan all on his own. You weren’t walking away from him – not really– no you were trying to walk away from yourself. The thoughts of Satoru eating you out under the table after he spread your legs apart in front of the window. Everyone who passed by would see you, their envy disguised by disgust. It was…exhilarating. So you had to get out of there before the crazy in you got a hold of Satoru and started hearing out his crazy plans. 

Needless to say, things were a lot better between the both of you. The screen in front of you pops up with a ‘starting now’ message before Satoru’s masked face fills out the screen. All his fans should be jealous that you got to see the real thing in person. His voice is clear in the mic, echoing through the speakers and your body. You glance at the door, biting down on your lip. What exactly would be Satoru’s reaction if you sent him a little…encouragement?

A sinister smile works the corners of your mouth upward as you slip out of your blouse, exposing your flushed breasts supported by a lacey black bra. You pick up your phone, open up the camera, and meet your gaze on the screen. You blink, noting the glaze of your eyes. 

Lifting up the phone to angle down your cleavage, catching the hem of lace. Before you can think twice about the consequences of such a simple action you click the button, capturing your rosy cheeks and devious grin. You open up your chat with Satoru and send the picture without much thought. 

I make no promises about the upholstery 

You glance back to the laptop screen in front of you, noting the way Satoru’s eyes dip to where his phone probably sits on the desk. He brows flinch, furrowing for a brief second before laughing at someone’s comment. He looks distracted, his gaze trailing down to his phone every once in a while. He’s gotten to the portion where he’ll start the bit of hiding away to touch himself. He grabs his phone, muttering something about mood lighting, but you glance down at your phone to see the little ‘read’ indicator appear. His face drops – not the reaction you were hoping for – but then you see how slowly his throat bobs with a swallow. The lights switch to a dusty yellow, dimmed to give the illusion of secrecy. You can still make out the glow of his eyes, illuminated by his phone screen. 

Some comments roll in about how slow he’s being, but the majority of them are pleased with seeing his cock. Can’t say you blame them. Satoru smirks to himself, a grin so full of ego it almost makes you proud. He works his belt off, standing from his desk chair to angle his waist toward the camera. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” He whispers, sliding his breeches down his thighs. “I can’t wait any longer, you drive me crazy. I want you so badly.” He hisses out of frame, groaning loudly as he frees himself from his boxers. You’d never seen a body part this beautiful. I mean who allowed him to have such a spectacular specimen attached to his body? 

The tip of his cock is an angry pink, tapering down to a paler shade of his skin tone. Viens etched their way up his shaft, curling toward the weeping head. He kept it well groomed and his hip muscles that fed into the base of his cock nearly sent shivers down your spine. He grips it with one hand, barely covering the length. Fuck, this was turning you on more than you’d hoped. Satoru is just about to start moving when his mask comes undone around the top section. You’re back into manager mode as the left side slowly slides down his face. He must notice because he hesitates as well, but he can’t fix it – as he’s currently jacking off in front of half a million people– half a million? Your eyes bulge. He couldn’t reveal his face to that many people, it would mean the end of his career before it even started. 

Your body moves on its own as you briskly open his office door. His attention is drawn to your half-naked appearance, blatantly staring at the lacey bra. You narrow your brows, nodding toward the camera. He goes back into character, but this time you get distracted by the movement of his hand around his cock. A slick pressure nearly bursts from in between your thighs. You blink rapidly, trying to look back at the situation at hand. His mask had stilled for the moment, but it was too risky to leave. A second mask lying on the dresser catches your eye. You swallow, quickly lacing it around your face. Satoru peers at you, slowing the pace of his strokes. It’s like he knows what you’re about to do – not that either of you mind. “Couldn’t hold back either eh?” His eyes trail down to his stiff cock, aching for another’s touch. 

Just go through with it. Feed into your desires. After all, isn’t this what the CEO meant? You slowly come into frame, brushing your fingertips against the skin of his chest. He tenses under your touch, his eyes flickering to where you stand. Gently you raise your hand to cup his cheek, bringing him down to your level. His hand has fallen from his cock, concentrating on the way you move in his space. You were something akin to ethereal and pure danger. “Think you can use your theatrics for good or do you think you won’t be able to handle it?” You tease, grinning innocently at him. 

Satoru raises his brows, leaning into your warmth. “Mmm, I don’t know, we never confirmed your audition.” He brushes the hair away from your neck, spanning his large hand against your sensitive skin. “But I think I can be flexible, as long as you are too.” His thumb is running along your jaw, eliciting a breathy moan from your traitorous mouth. “Do you get involved with all your talent?” He mutters, distracted by how your eyes flutter shut. 

A devious grin takes over your plump lips as you chuckle. “That’s not fair Satoru, who ever said you were talented?” His hand shifts to the base of your neck, tightening his grip around your windpipes. Your eyes fan open, meeting his gaze. 

It’s intense and heated as he rolls his tongue over his lips. “You’re about to find out now, aren’t you? Don’t get too attached darlin’” He says the latter part loud enough for the camera to pick up. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest. “Your father would never approve of this,” His voice is strained, “but I couldn’t care less, you are heaven incarnate. Who am I to deny the pearly gates?” 

Damn, he was good at this whole improv thing. It almost knocks your brain completely off its rocker. It’s hard to think straight so the only words that come out of your mouth are; “Do not pretend this is pure. Disregard me, My Lord.” 

Satoru’s eyes light up at the use of title, the words falling from your lips making his cock beg to burrow deep within you. He was slowly losing control around you. “As you wish.” Now, usually at this time, you’d be pushing your expectations so far down. Yet, you couldn’t help but wish he’d kiss you passionately, but you were the one to open your mouth. “If you do well, maybe I’ll reward you later.” He’s pushing you to your knees and once you’re in front of his hips the whole world comes crashing into perspective. Satoru’s cock is thick and long, half of it surely wouldn’t fit in your mouth. 

He’s taking the camera off the tripod, aiming it toward you. Fuck, move your hands. You need to move your hands. Slowly your fingers wrap around the hard length of his cock. A hiss of pleasure slides out of his mouth. Watching you through the lens was nothing, seeing it in real life was going to kill him. He had to keep it together, no matter how much he wanted to spill all over your fucking filthy face. 

Anxiously you flick your tongue against the weeping slit of his head. His grip tightens around the camera, sliding his hand through your hair and pulling tightly. “Go on darling, let’s see you open that pretty mouth of yours.” You glare into the camera but obey. 

Parting your lips you languidly drag your tongue against the underside of his angry-looking head. You glance up, checking on Satoru. His chest is rising rapidly as he takes all of you in. He shifts, gradually pushing himself into your mouth. “F-fuck,” He hisses, trembling as your wet mouth surrounds his length. He leans his head back, groaning. “You feel so good, shit, s’my pretty girl.” Heat dives to his core as a strangled moan falls from his lips. What were you doing to him? He’d never said or hell done these things until right now. He was under some sort of spell, feverishly thrusting into your mouth. 

Your lips were red, the corners of your mouth felt like they were tearing. Saliva slides down your jaw, pooling next to your knees. “S’fucking good.” Satoru haphazardly sets the camera on the desk, using his newly free hand to more accurately fuck your face. His balls felt like they were about to burst. “M’gonna cum, f’uck,” he practically shoves you off his cock, clumsily stroking his cock. “Open your mouth baby girl,” he sounds like he’s begging. You wanted him to cum, prove your efforts weren’t for naught. “S’at’s it, mmm, f’uck,” he groans as his eyes furrow. Your pretty mouth open for him, waiting patiently. God, it was driving him insane. His hand aches from the sheer force of his movements. 

You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of Satoru’s cum splurt over your face. You drag a glob off your cheek, sticking out your tongue to lavish the sweet juice. He studies you with a dark expression. 

His stream is forgotten as he pulls you from the ground. “After all that you think I’m letting you leave? Come on, I haven’t even tried the main course.” He grabs a rag from his desk, cleaning what he can of his load off your face. He was right all along. You wanted this, no him. Even if that was just his personality of teasing every woman he came into contact with, it had gotten to you…and that was scary. You’d given in. 

It’s the brisk step back that nearly breaks your resolve. The expression on Satoru’s face is one of neediness. “I’m sorry, I must return to the ball…I can’t do this.” You briskly walk to the door, tearing off the mask and tossing it toward Satoru who is staring after you. 

You had to make your escape quick. “Wait, where are you going?” Satoru’s eyes go wide as you shut the door behind you, gather your things, slip back into your shirt, and run out the door. The worst part was rushing past the apology cake. 

You would not let this fever for Satoru ruin what you’d worked so hard for. 

[discordiansamba]

good afternoon, have some more assorted thoughts about the time travel AU:

rin: so do you have any advice about how to pass the certification exam?

noctis, who never actually took it: uhhhhhhhh. go ask your uncle?

shiro walks in to find noctis and rin collapsed on the couch, both with the most ungraceful sleeping posture you can imagine complete with their eyes half open. he just snorts. like father, like son, he guesses.

(shiro, later on: oh wait. that was because they're the same person.)

if you think for one second that noctis staying youthful means that rin won't call him 'old man' you are so wrong. he absolutely does. it's karma. the first time he does it, it's just a critical hit.

the exwires @ rin and yukio: ...so you two are definitely second generation nephilim, right?

yukio: most likely, though father won't be honest with us.

rin: ...maybe he doesn't want to set a bad example? you know, cause he was like sixteen when he had us?

it took noctis a long time to get used to calling his younger self 'rin', when that still felt like it was his name.

it takes him a long time to stop responding to rin, but for all that, he can't really pinpoint the moment he stopped responding to it entirely, nor can he pinpoint the moment he started to respond to noctis without fail.

(ugh. he really wishes he'd picked a different name, though)

just. noctis looking in the mirror one day and realizing he's an adult now and that none of his friends will ever have the chance to grow up.

noctis: listen, rin. if you want to get piercings, get them now. you won't be able to do it later no matter how much you might want to.

yukio: aren't you supposed to tell us not to do that stuff?

rin: shut up yukio, don't make him change his mind!

the only times noctis hides his tail is when he has to go to the twins' school for any reason. hiding his horns is a little more complicated, once they start growing out, but he manages.

noctis at a parent teacher conference. what will he do.

(wish shiro was doing this instead.)

noctis listening to some mom prattle on about how rin attacked her son unprovoked, all while vividly remembering said incident from his childhood and knowing he sure as hell was provoked

shiemi looking at noctis post reveal, with the knowledge that rin is going to grow up to look like him one day and just. turning beet red.

rin: huh? no way! I'm going to look way cooler than him!

noctis: literally impossible, kid.

rin: don't call me kid! you're me!

noctis: yeah, but I'm like 32 years old and you're 16. so. kid.

rin and yukio are just. so weirded out by the fact that they've been calling an older version of rin 'dad' for years.

noctis: yeah, welcome to the club. i tried to get you two to call me nii-san, but you wouldn't listen.

rin: and you just went with it!?

noctis: shut up. you literally can't criticize any of my decisions.

yukio: he has a point, nii-san.

(rin squinting at noctis like. is he going to get a tail and horns when his seal breaks?)

noctis starts carrying kurikara around again after his true identity is exposed. he's also very clear to the order that if they try a single thing against either of his kids, he won't hesitate to turn on them in an instant.

(doesn't ask him when he started to think of rin and yukio as his kids for real. like a lot of things, it just sort of happened before he knew it. it is sort of funny watching them come to terms with something he's just sort of learned to roll with.)

juzo asks noctis for parenting advice, which throws him for a fucking loop. huah!? i mean, yeah, he guesses he did raise two kids but how is he still finding weird positions to be in??

rin: wait. so who raised you?

noctis: huh? shiro did.

rin & yukio, looking at shiro: grandpa...

shiro: NOPE, not doing that.

noctis, sensing a chance to mess with him: you're right! this is your grandpa shiro!

shiro: give me a break! i refuse to be called grandpa! i'm not that old!

[darthfrodophantom]

The Courage to Dare - Chapter 1

Summary: After the GiW overhear that Phantom is a half-human student of Casper High, they infiltrate the school and offer the students a tantalizing award if they can provide them the human identity of Phantom. Danny tries to keep his head down and suspicions low as suspicions fly throughout the school. He thought he was doing well, until an A-lister catches him mid-transformation.

Phic Phight Prompts: The GIW somehow learns that Danny Phantom is actually a student at Casper High. Now not only does Danny have to keep his secret from being found out by the government, but his classmates are also trying to figure out which one among them is secretly a ghost. Tensions rise when an unlikely classmate (author's pick) discovers his identity and must help him cover up the secret. - @paxopalotls

An overheard conversation between two ghosts reveals the truth: Phantom is half-human. Chaos ensues. - ghxstkids

Reveal gone right. - Irma

AO3

Chapter 1: One Must Have the Courage to Dare

“Power is given only to him who dares to stoop and take it ... one must have the courage to dare.”  - Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

The harsh hiss of cold, pressurized air releasing filled the cramped room. As suddenly as it started, the noise stopped and the room fell back into its previous, uneasy silence. A black gloved hand reached up to an ejected gray container that stuck out just slightly from the rest of the containers next to it - not unlike an old VCR tape - and removed it from its slot. The indicator light next to the empty slot turned from green to red. The gloved hand placed the container on a tray and walked along an aisle filled with hundreds of slots for containers. He escorted the tray past even more aisles of slots. Most of the slots shined with red lights indicating they too were empty, but a few here and there shined green. Plenty of room to expand. 

Once outside of the room, the man with the black gloves carried the container through hallways lit with bright fluorescent lights until it passed into a room containing nothing but a glass box in the center of the room that cast the entire room in an eerie green glow. The gloved hand stuck the container into a slot on the glass box and pressed a button. A green goo schlurped out of the other end and fell to the floor with a wet plop. 

The goo moved slowly, stretching and pulling in multiple directions until it spread out into the form of a man wearing a fedora and an overcoat. The ghost floated off the ground and arched his back so far he bent over in two as he breathed out a large sigh of relief.

“Your mandated hour of socialization and activity starts now,” the cold voice of the black-gloved man warned before he left the side of the box. 

“Yeah yeah, way to kill the mood,” the ghost complained in a thick Brooklyn accent. He sighed as he returned to his stretches. If he only had an hour of movement he intended to make good use of it. He circled his arms, craned his neck, and flew in tight loops just to get a sense of freedom and movement before he finally paid attention to the rest of the ghosts stuck in here with him. He never saw more than two other ghosts in the box at a time, probably so they could control them better, but the fact that had yet to see a repeat ghost had to be a bad sign that too many of his kind were stuck in this torture. The afterlife was torment enough without spending it as an immovable pile of goo inside a box. 

But surprisingly, he actually recognized one of the ghosts stuck in the box with him today. The elderly ghost with a portly paunch and fine suit haunted the lair next to his. By all Ghost Zone accounts, that made them neighbors. The elderly ghost made the connection at the same time and gestured for him to join him.

“Hawkshaw! Oh my dear boy, you’re in here too? I was rather hoping you’d be able to keep my lair safe while I was away,” his neighbor grumbled as he shook his head.

“No can do,” he sighed. “I was wonderin’ where you got to, just never thought you’d be in this mess too.” Now that he thought more about it, he hadn’t seen his neighbor ghost for a few weeks before he himself got nabbed. He really should have paid more attention to what was going on around him.

“Yes, terrible business this. Didn’t even see it coming!” he complained with a dramatic wave of his arm. “One minute I was flying around an old art museum admiring some of the classics from my day, and the next I’m beset upon by two of these ‘agents’ and fleeing for my life! Flew right to the school - only place I thought I’d be safe what with Phantom spending all his time there when he’s a human. Thought I’d be safer caught by him than–”

“Perce, would ya can it?” Hawshaw ordered as he placed a hand over the other ghosts’ blabbering mouth. 

The portly ghost immediately pushed him aside, looking affronted and insulted that the other ghost would put hands on him. “I dare say, what is the meaning of this?”

“Stop for a minute and think about what you’re sayin’ will ya? You can’t go blabbin’ that in a joint like this!” he scolded in a harsh whisper, but he knew it was pointless. He knew their captors could hear everything they said, even the whispers. “You think they let us flap our lips for our own good? No, they let us talk so they can listen. That’s why they’re always putting us with new ghosts. See what we’ll spill.”

He’d made the connection before - it’s what he did after all, spent his whole life making connections and now he just kept making them in death - and he just assumed everyone else saw the same. Or at least saw enough to know not to go breaking one of the unwritten rules of the Ghost Zone in front of their captors. He didn’t know when everyone had collectively agreed not to blab that Phantom kid’s secret to the living, but they learned what happened when anyone’s loose lips talked a little too much about Plasmius and decided to not take the chance. Those halfas were dangerous business.

Perce’s eyes slowly widened with horrified understanding. “Oh…oh no. Oh dear me. Oh Hawkshaw you know I’ve never been good at keeping quiet on things. I do enjoy hearing the sound of my voice you see, and I’m afraid that I might have…”

Hawkshaw let Perce prattle on behind him about other secrets he may have divulged as he looked towards the agents stationed in their room. Sure enough, those eager beavers looked more alive than he’d ever seen them. One of them didn’t even notice he had a wrinkle on his pristine white coat. So they not only heard Perce spill his guts, but they knew what it meant too. Just like him, they could make connections.

“Poor kid,” he sighed under his breath. He just had to hope he wouldn’t end up seeing Phantom in one of his upcoming rotations. He wanted to think they wouldn’t do this to someone who was half-human, but judging how they’d been treated…well he just didn’t know anymore…

~*~

The entire day at school Danny had a feeling he should have called out sick. He really couldn’t afford to call out given how often he ditched because of ghost attacks, and he probably would have had a worse experience enduring his parents’ homemade “cures” for being sick, but he just had a feeling that the school was the last place he needed to be today.

Maybe that feeling of doom would go away after the history test he didn’t study for? Nope, it was still there, even after he bombed the test.

Maybe it would go away after gym class where he had to play tag football with actual football players? No, that actually ended up to be pretty fun because he kept turning his flag intangible.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t read Crime and Punishment and didn’t feel like spending another day talking about a book he hadn’t even opened and pretending to care? Well since he was currently in his English class, that had to be it.

“That’s an interesting theory Ms. Sanchez, though I don’t think Dostoevsky really thought about how his novel would impact his Instagram followers back in the eighteen-hundreds,” Lancer said patiently while Sam rolled her eyes. “Now to pivot the conversation a bit, Raskolnikov believes that he is acting for the betterment of society by murdering this woman. Do you think he truly is putting the needs of the many over the needs of the few? Or is he perhaps using it as a mask to justify his own personal ambition?”

Sam very eagerly raised her hand in the air, as she had many times throughout their discussion of this book. “What, I like Dostoevsky’s bleak look on humanity,” she would constantly assert. Danny and Tucker were both hoping she’d use her personal enjoyment of this book to help them write their final essays later.

Lancer gestured towards Sam, but before she could share her thoughts with the classroom the door opened. Principal Ishiyama stepped inside, her face drawn and solemn. Two men in pristine white suits stepped into the classroom behind her and immediately took up flanking positions on either side of the desk.

Panic clutched at Danny’s heart, forcing it to somehow stop and beat faster all at the same time. His breath caught in his lungs as blood pounded through his head. 

The Guys in White. Here, at his school. Interrupting their class. His class.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to school today. He knew he should have trusted that gut instinct to stay home. It wasn’t anything as banal as a test or a football game or a book - it was a warning his very life could be in danger.

“Class, these are Agents K and O. They have an important announcement from the government,” Principal Ishiyama introduced, and somewhere behind all the panic in his now hyper-aware state, Danny noted that she didn’t seem too pleased with the interruption to the school’s daily activities.

One of the agents stepped forward and cleared his throat. The fluorescent lights shone off his perfectly shaved head. Immediately Danny recognized both of them as the two agents he consistently dealt with. He’d been unfortunate enough to see a few of them over his time as a ghost, but these two seemed to be assigned to him personally. Even if they could be occasionally incompetent, they knew his moves and knew more about him than he cared to admit, and that made them even more dangerous.

“We are from the Ghost Investigation Ward,” Agent K announced. His crisp, monotone voice sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. “We have been tasked with monitoring the activity of an entity colloquially referred to as Phantom.”

The mention of the ghostly superhero that most of the class idolized generated whispers around the room. Agent O raised a hand and immediately the chatter ceased. “We know that some of you have been mistakenly rooting for this ghost, so we need to set the record straight.”

“You think he’s been saving you from the other ghosts,” Agent K added. 

“But that couldn’t be further from the truth. We have evidence that he has been coordinating these attacks to look the hero.” Agent O grabbed a device and Danny immediately flinched because he assumed this had to be some kind of weapon. But instead it projected an image onto the white board behind them. The slideshow of pictures showcased Phantom talking to various ghosts from his rogue’s gallery. 

He knew the GiW watched him, and he knew people took photos of him and put them up on the socials, but he never really paid attention to how bad some of his conversations with the ghosts could look without context. Sometimes he would just chat with them before they fought! Or he’d try to convince them nicely to leave. He’d even built up an uneasy truce over the years with some of them and didn’t have to be as outwardly antagonistic anymore. But these perfectly chosen and curated photos told a story, one that made him look very bad, and from the murmurs of some people in the class, some of them bought it. 

“Oye, you don’t expect us to believe you right?” Paulina spoke up, and Danny’s spirits lifted slightly. At least he could always count on Paulina to have his back. Well, Phantom’s back at least. She’d throw Danny to the wolves in a heartbeat. “I mean, that’s my picture from my Insta!” she accused as she pointed at the most recent picture on the whiteboard. “I took that right before they started fighting!”

“They were probably talking about how to stage the fight,” Agent K shot back. 

Danny could feel Sam roll her eyes from beside him, and normally he would have joined her if not for the terror that still gripped his heart.

Agent O straightened out his broad shoulders and squared up with the class. “This ghost is dangerous. He has hurt people, just like other ghosts.” Images flashed up onto the board of Phantom’s attacks against the Mayor and townspeople from the overshadowing incident (that he still could never live down). 

“He has destroyed buildings, and streets, and government property, just like other ghosts.” More images flashed across the white board of Phantom shooting ecto-blasts into buildings (a ghost had just been there a moment before) or Phantom throwing a ghost into the ground (he didn’t think he’d thrown them hard enough to crack the pavement). “I know none of you understand taxes yet, but your parents are paying tons of money to fix the city in the wake of his destruction.” 

Each image stabbed Danny through the heart and twisted the metaphorical blade further and further inside. He’d grown used to the constant slander against his name from his parents, but somehow this felt even worse because he knew he couldn’t speak up. Even his classmates’ dissents had grown quieter.

“Even if you still want to argue that he’s not a ghostly mastermind, then you have to acknowledge his presence in this town is drawing ghosts of increasing power just to challenge him,” Agent K added. “His presence doesn’t protect you: it endangers you.”

Danny’s gut twisted as his gaze fell down to his lap. He didn’t even want to register the murmurs of his classmates, because as much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He had inadvertently destroyed parts the town in his quest to keep it safe. And even if he tried to justify that the town would be in worse shape if he let the ghosts do what they want, he still couldn’t argue with the damage. It’s why he tried not to revisit the sites of his previous ghost fights unless he absolutely had to. And as for drawing more powerful enemies…well that was also unfortunately true. More powerful and ancient ghosts kept coming out of the woodwork and he doubted they had any real interest in Amity Park aside from the fact that he lived here. 

Feeling like they’d finally gotten somewhere, the agents’ generally impassive postures and facial expressions broadened in confidence. “And we have reason to believe that Phantom has grown even more dangerous.”

That caught Danny’s attention and pulled him out of his self-loathing. He looked back up at the agents with curiosity and worry. Whatever they had to say, whatever they had learned…it could not be good.

Agent K cleared his throat dramatically. “We don’t know how this is possible, but we have learned that Phantom is not a full ghost.”

Danny’s heart stopped for so long he could swear he’d transformed. No…no they couldn’t know that. How could they know that? He was just mishearing them right? They couldn’t possibly mean–

“He has a human persona, and that persona attends Casper High.”

The collective gasp echoed through the silent room. Students looked around the room at their friends to confirm what they heard, because surely they must have heard wrong. Phantom? Here? Posing as one of them? The shocked quiet quickly grew into excited chatter as they tried to guess who the agents might be referring to. 

Only three students refrained from the excited chatter; Sam and Tucker cast sideways glances at Danny, who simply stared straight ahead, white as a sheet and seemingly frozen.

Agent O cleared his throat again. “We don’t know what grade he’s in, but we know he…”

Whatever else they said, Danny didn’t hear any of it. Their voices faded into a muted mumble in the background, replaced by an oppressive silence and a loud ringing that drowned everything else out. His hands trembled beneath his desk and sweat beaded down the back of his burning neck because the room had suddenly become too warm and too cold at the same time. 

His core spasmed, sending warning shocks that he needed to leave, that he needed to disappear, that he was in danger. He needed to run, flee, hide, disappear, something - but he couldn’t. He was stuck. If they knew Phantom was human…then they were watching him. They were watching everyone. He couldn’t afford to make a single suspicious move. So even though he still couldn’t hear anything except the blood pounding in his ears, and even though he was sure he was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, he summoned all the courage he could find in the very depths of his being and finally turned to look at other students in the room, to play his part in the act as convincingly as he could.

“I’m sure you can understand how this malevolent ghost’s existence in the school is a hidden danger to all of you.” Agent K’s voice still sounded like he was underwater, but he could at least pick out words now. “We will do our part to help find and catch Phantom so you can all learn again in safety.”

“But we could also use your help,” Agent O added, and that started up the whispers again. “You’re around your fellow students more and you will see more suspicious behavior. So if you see something, say something.”

“If someone does something strange or unexplainable,” Agent K offered as he ticked off a list on his fingers.

“If someone is often seen around ghosts,” Agent O added with another tick.

“Someone who has always been pro-Phantom.”

“Someone who is missing during ghost attacks.”

“Someone who sets you on edge when you’re around them.”

“Or someone who just feels…suspicious.”

Agent K dropped his hands and clasped them stoically behind his back. “You should report any of that to us. We will be a constant presence here and will welcome any student who wants to come forward with information.”

In his paranoia Danny could swear he felt the eyes of every student on the back of his head, but when he chanced to look around the room, he noticed everyone else was also looking at every other potential suspect. It gave him a temporary relief from the panic that seemed to be building to such heights that he thought he would explode from it, but it wasn’t much. Because he had done all of those things in front of many members in this classroom, and if any of them really focused on their memories or God help him actually talked to each other, they’d put this together pretty quick. They may not have their eyes on him right now, but given enough time to think about it, someone would make the connection.

“And if your information or even an accusation leads to the identification of Phantom, then we have been approved to give a reward of five thousand dollars.” Agent O let that offer hang dramatically in the air. Danny watched the eyes of everyone else in the room grow large. Five thousand dollars was a lot for anyone, but for a teenager it was a huge sum. There was no way he could compete with that kind of money being thrown around.

“Plus, if you have any other special requests, we have strings we can pull to make them happen,” Agent K proposed. “Sport scholarship to your choice college? We can make that happen.”

“Ivy league acceptance? Done,” Agent O promised.

“Influencer status on social media? Done.”

“Better healthcare coverage for you or a family member? Done.”

“Um I’m sorry, how can you promise all of this?” Sam spoke up, her skepticism and derision clear as she stared them down.

Danny’s first gut instinct was to yell at Sam to keep quiet or to step on her foot or something to keep her from drawing attention to herself. The last thing they needed was for the GiW to look in their direction. But then he also realized that the rest of the students would expect Sam to argue about these points given how vocal she usually was about certain government programs; she was still trying to convincingly play her part too.

“Because we’re the government,” Agent K answered simply.

“So you basically want us to rat out one of our own,” another student piped up, clearly emboldened by Sam’s criticism.

“I want you to do what’s best for the good of society and for the good of your own safety,” Agent O responded without missing a beat.

“And it’s not ‘one of your own,’” Agent K added. “It’s a ghost masquerading as one of you. It doesn’t belong here.”

“What will happen to the student?” Kwan asked.

“We will have to detain them for the security and safety of the town, but as agents of the government we would never hurt a citizen of this great country without cause,” Agent O assured them. 

He must have practiced that lie long and hard in front of the other agents, because he sounded genuine, but Danny knew he was lying. He’d known for a long time that if the GiW ever caught him, they would treat him as inhumanely as they treat every other ghost at their facility. Solitary confinement, experiments, torture - he never expected anything better from these soulless husks in deceptively white suits.

“Now, having said all of this, if Phantom would like to turn himself in at this time as a gesture of good faith, we will take that into account when determining sentencing, and we will extend those rewards and promises to a person of your choosing,” Agent K offered.

Danny almost laughed at the ridiculous offer. Good faith? Take it into account? They wouldn’t do anything of the sort. 

“Didn’t think that would work,” he shrugged as he turned to his partner. “Let’s go, we still have three other classrooms to hit this period. You know where to find us.”

The two agents turned in unison and strode out of the room with the principal following after them. As soon as the door shut the classroom erupted in chatter. It was hard to pick out the general feel of the other students: excitement at the reward, protection over one of their own, curiosity over who it could be - it all felt so jumbled around him when he was still just trying to focus on breathing. The oppressive weight of the agents’ presence lifted once they left the room, but it hadn’t vanished. Knowing they were still in the school, still nearby, held his heart in a vice. Maybe the pressure lessened, but it still wasn’t free. 

He finally felt like he could look at Tucker and Sam safely, and the same level of nervous concern reflected back in their faces. Sam tried to give him a reassuring nod, but it felt hollow and forced. Maybe he’d be more responsive to a classic Team Phantom “we can handle anything” talk later, but right now he felt too overwhelmed to even begin to think about how they could handle this. 

He wanted to flee, but it would look too suspicious. He wanted to sleep, but he didn’t dare close his eyes. He wanted to go home, but he didn’t expect to find any peace there once his parents heard about this. And a tiny, overwhelmed, exhausted part of him rose out of the dark in his mind and wanted to give up and turn himself in, but he was more scared than tired to think further on that option. He didn’t really know what more he could do other than just stare ahead numbly at he white board. 

“Okay people, I’m not letting this fool’s hunt take up any more of my time today!” Lancer yelled over the class. Some of the chatter died down, but a lot of it didn’t. “Now we are going to keep talking about Crime and Punishment, and if I hear any chatter from any of you about Phantom, I’m going to assign you an essay a chapter until this unit is over,” he threatened. 

That seemed to stop the whispers as the room plunged into absolute silence. “There, that’s better. I should use that threat more often,” Lancer mused under his breath. “Now, given everything we just heard, you really should pay attention to this discussion, because Dostoevsky has some pretty apropos thoughts about choosing your own satisfaction at the cost of another’s…”

Danny would love to listen to reasons why every student in the room maybe wouldn’t immediately turn him in, but he just couldn’t focus on anything else while the throes of panic still held tight. Did they just expect him to pay attention in class like nothing happened? To comment on a book he hadn’t read and pretend that the carefully maintained Jenga tower of his life wasn’t teetering on one small block at the base that could give out any moment? And now every single student in the school had a chance to take a crack at knocking that last remaining brick aside and he was left with no more blocks or prayers or hopes that it could stay up. That tower would fall, and everything would be over, and he had no idea how he was supposed to just live his life until that inevitable collapse.

Except…he had to pretend to live his life. If he showed that this threat freaked him out more than any other student, he’d be found out. If he struggled more now than he did before, he’d be found out. Maybe the tower would topple in the end, but the longer he could push it off…maybe he could find some way around it. Postponing his discovery as long as possible was his only chance at figuring something out. He just…had to pretend nothing was wrong. Live life like he wasn’t hiding some half-ghost secret. And if a ghost attacked…well he’d figure it out. Meanwhile he just had to divert attention and rumors away from himself for as long as he could. Easier said than done.

He took deep calming breaths and tried to focus not so much on Lancer’s words, but at least on the tone of his voice. He used that familiar voice to ground himself. He had to calm down enough to walk out of this class without catching anyone’s attention. If he could do that, he’d consider it his first victory. He just had to calm down.

But no matter what he did, he still couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. 

[buddiesystempod]

This ain’t L.A., 🌴 ain’t no 118, 🚒 but Eddie’s putting his foot down, down, down, down. 🤠

🎧 Listen on Spotify: Texas Hold 'Em (Season 8 Episodes 12-13) 📺 Watch on YouTube: https://youtu.be/nNLwQBlT7pQ

Han, Cil, and Rachel take a ride in Eddie’s Prius through Season 8, Episode 12 “Disconnected” and Episode 13 “Invisible” of 9-1-1 as we unpack 📦 the dynamics of finding your voice, feeling forgotten, and the weight of familial expectations.

The nightmare 😱 of Maddie’s kidnapping haunts her dreams and steals her voice. We explore how she navigates through this with the help of Chimney, Athena, and Jee.

Hen is feeling unimportant 🫥 when everyone but Athena and Eddie forget her birthday. 🎈 We take a look at how she turns her feelings of hurt and embarrassment into her best birthday yet.

It Girl, Eddie Diaz is the star 🌟 of this episode as we follow his journey in El Paso — the struggle to reclaim his identity and confidence in being a father in the face of unattainable expectations. The contrasting parenting styles of Eddie and his parents reveal how generational trauma can affect relationships, making it hard for Eddie to assert himself and advocate for Christopher.

We unpack his latest and greatest hits, including:

• Lying to His Kid Part 2

• Diving Headfirst Without a Plan

• Nervous Yapping

• Getting Steamrolled by His Parents

• Codependent FaceTimes with His “Best Friend”

• And more!

Luckily, Eddie has the good sense to continue taking Buck’s advice and communicates with Chris, then fully “Dads Up”, FINALLY 🙌 reuniting the father-son duo.

We hold your hand and tell you the latest foreshadowing 🕵️ for an Eddie (and possibly a Chris) NDE – the bus is leaving the station at some point and you never know what tree may fall during its route to L.A.! 👀

It may be cloudy and grey 🌥️ in our Buddie Forecast, but we break down our prediction for clearer skies ☀️ (albeit not necessarily smooth sailing) by the end of the season and the beginning of next!

Grab a Capri Sun 🧃 as we watch Eddie checkmate ♟️ his parents and take a big move towards reclaiming his identity and embracing joy. 🥳

🎬 Episode Title inspired by starkbucksix's "Texas Hold 'Em" Eddie edit, which we unashamedly watched on loop more time than we can count 🤠

[raaorqtpbpdy]

The Divergence Point

Wes finally succeeds in revealing Danny Phantom's true identity, and everything immediately goes downhill so fast some old ghost named Clockwork steps in.

For the prompt: Wes has done it. He has exposed Phantom to the world. So why can't he get rid of that annoying tick-tock from his head? And why is everything burning? [from @kalifa100]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for mentions of violence]

He... he'd done it.

Wes could hardly believe it himself, but he'd done it!

He'd tricked Danny into transforming in front of everyone, and now no one could deny that Wes had been right all along. They'd all seen the truth with their own eyes, and he'd done it!

He'd exposed Phantom to the world.

But he never expected it to turn out like this.

Why couldn't he get rid of this annoying tick-tocking sound in his head? And why was everything burning? How could achieving his greatest goal be a bad thing?

People were rioting as an unconscious Danny got carried away by the Guys in White. Fights broke out. A fire started. The mayor was trying to get everyone to calm down to absolutely no effect whatsoever. Everyone was freaking out, and no one was even paying any actual attention to the truth Wes had just exposed which started all this in the first place.

He'd just wanted to show them the truth; he never wanted anyone to get hurt.

No. No way. He could fix this.

The ticking had been growing steadily louder in his head, louder and louder until he couldn't focus, couldn't even think, and he was clutching his head in pain, his eyes squeezed shut.

Then, all at once, it quieted to a soft tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock in the background, and the air grew cold.

Wes opened his eyes. He was no longer standing in the second floor window of City Hall. Instead, he looked to be in some kind of clock tower. But the colors were all wrong, eerie and unnatural like they were glowing and absorbing light at the same time.

"Wesley Weston," said a voice.

Wes jumped at the sound and whipped his head toward it. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am Clockwork, the Master of Time," the ghost replied, because there was no doubt in Wes' mind that it was a ghost. "And you seem to have gotten yourself in quite a bit of trouble."

Most Amity Parkers would be scared out of their wits if they found themselves face-to-face with an obviously powerful ghost, in what was obviously his home turf, being told that they were in trouble. Wes Weston was not most Amity Parkers, and he wasn't afraid of any ghost, no matter who they were.

Wes narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Clockwork rapidly aged before Wes, then waved his hand through the air, causing a line to appear. At a single point, the line split into dozens of lines.

"This, is your timeline, and that point," Clockwork said, sticking a gnarled finger at the spot where the lines diverged, "Is today."

Wes wanted to speak, ask a question maybe, or say something in his defense if he did indeed need to defend himself. But the words didn't come to him, so he just listened, waiting for Clockwork to finish his explanation, which would hopefully include why the hell Wes was here.

"Each of these lines that branch off from today, is a direction in which your timeline might go," the old ghost continued. "But you may have noticed that only one of them goes straight forward."

He indicated the line that continued straight amongst all the wild and diverging paths.

"So?"

"So this is the line that you have forced because of your actions," Clockwork pointed to a wiggling, looping line going way off in another direction.

"Again, so?"

"So... this is how that line ends."

Clockwork gestured broadly to a screen where Wes could see a world on fire, ravaged by war. His eyes widened in shock.

"Wait, you're telling me I'm responsible for that?"

"There are billions of people on your world, making trillions of decisions every day, but at any given point in time, there is only one decision that matters, and the person making it changes all the time."

Clockwork jabbed his finger once again at the point where the lines diverged.

"At this distinct point, there is only one person on Earth whose decisions determine the future of the world as you know it," Clockwork said. "And at this distinct point, that person is you. Ordinarily, there are a few potential vital decisions that will result in the safe continuation of the timeline, and one of the right ones is made."

Clockwork waved his hand again, and showed another timeline, side by side with the first. This one, too, branched off after a certain point, although it only had about ten possible outcomes, and three of them kept the timeline going more or less straight ahead, with only slight deviations, where the others spread wider.

Evidently, that was the standard situation, and the divergence point where Wes' decision mattered was atypical to say the least. His had lines that turned around and went backwards, lines that formed loops and waves, and only one that went forward.

Clockwork pointed once more at the divergence point where Wes' decision was the only one that mattered.

"At this divergence point, there is only one right answer," he said. "Only one way to avoid catastrophic consequences. You must not reveal Daniel's secret to the world."

"What?" Wes shouted. "No way! I worked hard to do that! There has to be some way I can keep the timeline from devolving into chaos and still expose Fenton's secret. I worked too hard for too long to just give up!"

"If that's so, then you will repeat the day over until you find it, or realize the futility of trying," Clockwork told him. "Failure will not be tolerated."

The next thing Wes knew, he was gasping awake in bed.

It was eight in the morning on Saturday, and Phantom's public appearance hadn't happened yet, meaning Wes hadn't even gotten the chance to enact his latest plan, and it hadn't caused absolute chaos.

Weird dream.

[djgamek1ng]

MTG x Final Fantasy Card Discussion (Pt. 2.75 - Hildibrand Manderville)

Okay, so I was wrong in thinking that we wouldn't get any reveals from the commander decks before the debut stream in 2 days. However, I'm very glad to be wrong, because this might be my favorite card shown off in terms of both the character and the rules combined. This time, we'll be talking about Hildibrand Manderville, the most gentlemanly gentleman out there!

I'm not gonna address colors here too much, they are working within the limitations of the color identity of the deck. That said, White is perfectly fitting for Hildibrand, it is just the Black part that doesn't make super sense aside from his brief stint as a zombie.

Let's get to the card. A 2 mana 2/2 is perfectly on rate. Then he also gives creature tokens you control a +1/+1. If that was the entire card, he'd be perfectly playable in lower commander brackets. Not great, mind you, but definitely playable. However, we got more to discuss. When Hildibrand dies, you may cast him from your graveyard as the Adventure side until your next turn. Let's first talk about the Adventure before I go into gushing mode. Very simple, it is an Instant spell with Adventure as subtype. 3 mana to create a 2/2 black Zombie creature token. Then, after you cast the Adventure, you exile the card and are allowed to play the creature side at a later point.

Okay, I will just immediately say it: I love this card already. Whether as your commander or in the 99 of a White/Black(/whatever) deck, he's gonna be really fucking annoying to permanently get rid of. 2/2 certainly aren't combat stats, but you can swing with him without much fear, since after he died for 3 mana you get a Zombie token (which I'll show off later) and then he's back in exile and recastable for 2 mana again. This is definitely a card that has some shenanigans going on without being overpowered. He's mainly a buffing piece to get all your tokens stronger by +1/+1. Also, if he's your commander, the easiest way to "protect" him from pesky exile effects is to have a way to sacrifice him or blow him up yourself, again because of the loop you can take with him.

I also love how on point the flavor is, because Hildibrand is genuinely allies with Zombies in FF14 and has been a zombie temporarily, so he's disgustingly tough to get rid off and this cards shows is perfectly.

Overall, quite a good card. As your commander, there will definitely be games that the only time he's in your command zone is on turn 1 and afterwards he dances between the battlefield, the graveyard and exile a bunch from him dying, casting the adventure from the graveyard and then having him in exile to recast into the battlefield. In the 99, same until someone exiles him directly.

Now for the art. Credit to Akagi. Link to their Twitter. This card can't stop winning. Hildibrand striking his classic gentlemanly pose with that damned smile, while Nashu in the background is throwing a bomb at him and holding another one in her other hand. Also, all of this is taking place somewhere in Thanalan. The only small critique I have is that if I zoom in really close, Hildibrand seems to have eyebrows, which... isn't currently the case in-game, but man, I don't care, he should have eyebrows. All male Highlanders should get eyebrows. This is fantastic, I love this art. It is completely on model and everything, it is genuinely great.

As for the Zombie creature token (specifically the art, there is nothing to discuss rules wise):

Credit to Anton Solovianchyk. Link to their ArtStation. It is a gentlemanly Zombie from the Hildibrand questline! Also somewhere in Thanalan. I love it. Only the face is a bit uncanny valley territory for me, where it is a bit too realistic, but man, it kind of works. Zombies somehow get more realistic in Eorzea, that's the thing that makes them disgusting to Eorzeans haha! I wish, but definitely not the case. Oh well, still a great art and a fun headcanon to think about.

And that's the review! Definitely a big fan of this card and I had not expected that at all. If you had asked me what you'd have Hildibrand do before today, I'd say "idk, make some clue tokens I guess and do damage to people when you crack them." This design is so much better. It really shows that they were having fun with gameplay designs, this is fantastic. Anyway, thank you for reading and have a nice day! o/

[adastraperfortuna]

Tears of the Kingdom; or, The Sequel to Breath of the Wild

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is one of the most focused and restrained AAA games that I've ever played. After Skyward Sword and Twilight Princess, two games that pushed the long-standing franchise formula to its breaking point, Hidemaro Fujibiyashi and his team set out to build a new Zelda identity from the ground up. With a clean slate, every feature that they added built towards the game's central themes - the majesty of nature, player freedom, and systemic play. If something wouldn't contribute to that, it often didn't end up in the game at all, leading to a lot of players complaining about Breath being threadbare, quiet, and streamlined.

I say all of that because its sequel, Tears of the Kingdom, is most decidedly none of those things. Tears is a game defined by its maximalism, taking more or less everything from Breath and tacking stuff onto it for six years. Where Breath had one map, Tears has three, and they did their absolute best to fill every square inch of the new and returning playable space to the brim with characters, quests, systems, caves, dungeons, easter eggs, and collectables. Tears is a game with seven currencies that you can trade in at five types of vendor for various rewards, and that's excluding the new upgrade systems for the new abilities that you can get from completing the new temples.

When I say that it took more or less everything from Breath of the Wild, though, I did mean it. While ostensibly a sequel, Tears functions as something much closer to a remake or reimagining in practice. The overall story structure is almost identical, down to the minutiae of which characters inherit which responsibilities from which champions/sages. The memory system for storytelling is retained, much to the detriment of the now-linear story that it's conveying. You're going to be revisiting the same towns, doing similar shrines to unlock similarly-adjacent waypoints, and restoring things to the status quo by the time you say your goodbyes.

I'm really not sure that those two goals - massively expanding a game while also being slavishly devoted to recreating it - can coexist.

Breath of the Wild wasn't an accident, and while there are things in Tears that I would port back to its predecessor if given the opportunity, taking a game defined by its minimalism and grafting three new games' worth of capital-c Content onto it is going to fundamentally change the nature of the beast. By giving the player all of these new abilities (primarily Ultrahand - check out Postscript 1), we're left with a game with even fewer true puzzles and navigational challenges than Breath, requiring the audience to play along and role-play as someone with fewer tools in their belt than they do to have fun. The looser, more character-focused storytelling that Breath used allowed the memory system to flourish with each scene comfortably making sense on its own, and with Tears's pivot to a more traditional plot it becomes possible for the player to ruin a reveal for themselves simply through bad luck.

More than that, though, Tears effectively completely eliminated Breath's exploration loop without anything waiting in the wings as a replacement. With vehicles and man-cannon towers that can take you more or less anywhere on the map, traversal has been turned into selecting a point and more or less airdropping directly to it. Maybe that was a necessary change - you can't explore the same map twice, after all. Unfortunately, with the new additions, caves and wells, only being visible from up-close (in comparison to the bright and beaconesque shrines and towers from Breath), exploration in Tears asks you to do more than exactly that, combing the map and checking every crevice and crevasse in a way that Breath only rewarded with Korok seeds and ambiance.

I'm leading with all of this negativity because this is what I was left stewing in after I gave up Tears of the Kingdom two dungeons in and a few weeks after its launch last year. For about six months, give or take a few twenty-minute play sessions to see if I was feeling it yet, I simply couldn't believe that this is what Nintendo had released as their sequel to my favorite game of all time. I was frustrated, disappointed, and hyper-critical. I enjoyed a lot about Tears, but the problems were so fresh and my expectations were so high that the flaws were all I could feel. I spent a lot of time hashing out how I felt online (see Postscript 2), and it well and truly astonished me to see how few people could sympathize. Were we even playing the same game?

As my return to Tears of the Kingdom a few weeks ago suggested, maybe we weren't.

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is one of the most systemically generous and aesthetically luxurious AAA games that I've ever played. After Breath of the Wild, a game that felt in many ways like a blank slate for the future of a legendary franchise, Hidemaro Fujibiyashi and his team set out to rediscover and reintegrate the Zelda identity of old into this new format. With a great foundation, every feature they added could bring something new and unique to the table, providing such a wealth of options and experiences that no two players would've truly played the same game. And once I opened myself up to that, picking and choosing which parts of the game I wanted to play more judiciously and holding back from "optimal" play in lieu of finding the fun, the game blossomed for me in a million dazzling ways.

The scripted, authored material in Tears is some of the best work that a Zelda team has ever done, full stop. There are more quests that are more engaging than any of their equivalents in Breath, with every town now brimming with unique activities and fun overarching progressions both in and outside of the main quest line. So-called "Side Adventures" have you fighting off groups of monsters with roaming squadrons of soldiers, rebuilding towns, plunging into the darkest corners of the Depths in search of enemies from past games, and solving map-spanning puzzles in search of ancient wisdom. You can't throw a rock twelve feet in Hyrule without hitting an NPC with a minigame on deck, it seems, and almost all of them are a blast. Characters from Breath are given new life as leads in game-long side quests covering anything from construction to journalism, and the modes of gameplay that you're asked to engage with are diverse and fun, recontextualizing existing spaces in interesting ways.

Of course, the side material wasn't what drew me to the prior Zelda games (with the exception of Majora's Mask), and the main quest represents a bafflingly large step up from Breath of the Wild's. Each of the dungeon approach sequences is hours-long and absolutely jam-packed with memorable moments, providing a linear, focused progression that'll have you solving riddles, probing caves, and diving into storm heads. The dungeons themselves, while functionally similar to Breath's Divine Beasts, feel at once more unique and closer to the series's past by building out their own aesthetics. The bosses are more visually diverse and tactically demanding, and when you beat them you're rewarded with a fundamental shift to the area you're saving (with the exception of the Goron village, a part of the game that disappointed me enough to stop me playing for half a year). Even the approaches to the towns are reinvigorated, with interesting additions like an expanded extreme climate zone around the Gerudo Desert providing the kind of focused navigation challenges that only the Zora portion of Breath provided.

And this is all referring to the first dungeons you encounter, the stretch of the game that mirrors Breath so thoroughly that I genuinely found it concerning on my first go at it. What happens afterwards, from the "reveal" at Hyrule Castle to the moments that credits roll, is maybe my favorite sequence in Zelda history. It's deliriously smart, using the scope of the game's systems to deliver a part of the journey that feels epic, personal, global, and threatening. Their newfound freedom to create bespoke moments pays off in a finale so explosive that it's hard to believe it came from the studio that gave us Breath's Dark Beast Ganon fight, with everything from that last leap into the darkness on absolutely dripping with verve. And, my God, that last button prompt.

This is all accompanied, of course, by the best thing that a game could take from Breath of the Wild: its audiovisual presentation. While the primary overworld looks more or less like you'll remember it, the addition of the sky and Depths lets the team expand their palette to match. The sky reaches truly profound, sublime levels of beauty, while the Depths gets just about as close to horror as Zelda can handle - those two endpoints giving us something to fear and something to fight for, which in turn elevates the storytelling. The soundtrack pulls from a million influences to give us something new, but it isn't afraid to pull those old Zelda heartstrings when the time is right. One particular theme incorporation during a post-Spirit Temple cutscene had me hooting and hollering.

I do apologize if these last few paragraphs have felt closer to an exaltation than something meaningful and insightful - the best parts of this game just sort of did that to me. While Tears has problems, and I think they're worth examining, it also has a structure that lends itself to simply ignoring what you dislike and pursuing what you do. It took me approaching it from a completely different and unnatural angle to see that, though, and I'm hoping that the next Zelda is able to provide both the focus and bombast that only one of the last two excelled in. With this next blank slate, with this next fresh start - with a new map, a new style, and new ambitions - maybe they can combine the best of both worlds.

After Tears of the Kingdom came out, I found myself asking how my favorite game development team lost the magic touch and what it would take for me to get excited about their next project. The answer to that is in two parts: they didn't, and I already am.

Postscript 1: Ultrahand

Ultrahand doesn't have a place in the Zelda series. While it gives the player a lot of options, and I understand the fun that a lot of people had with it, it simultaneously breaks too many challenges and fails to introduce many more. The most interesting questions you can ask with Ultrahand are "how do you move this object" and "how do you climb over this thing", with the answer to both almost universally being "make something that can fly." While Ultrahand as-is is a technical marvel, you need to wilfully ignore most of its abilities if you want to have any fun with half of the game's puzzles, let alone traversal. It "fits" with Tears's everything-and-the-kitchen-sink vibe, but I had way more fun with the game when I refused to use it unless absolutely necessary, and I truly don't want to see it again.

Postscript 2: Apologies

In the half-year period where I was perpetually bummed about Tears of the Kingdom I let my disdain for it become a staple of my online personality. It dominated any conversation about the game that I joined, and I have the reasonable suspicion that I ruined at least a few good conversations with needless shit-flinging. To those of you that got hit by that: I apologize. The game kind of rules, actually. I was right about some things, wrong about others, but my face turn on this has well and truly wasted a lot of people's time. The least I could've done is waited until I beat it. I can't wait to intellectually learn this lesson and then never put it into practice. Oh, well.

Postscript 3: Cohost

This post is adapted from a post I made on my Cohost blog earlier this year. I will miss Cohost dearly, even if I wasn't tremendously active there.

[inks-lil-quiet-corner]

woa a random in stars and time oc that may or may not be incredibly self-indulgent!!! woa!!!!

meet lost! a silly ghost that just vibes with siffrin in the loops! more info about them is under the cut cuz it's a lot and doesn't make much sense lol (isat spoilers!!!)

----------------------------------------------------

would appear after the loop where siffrin gets accidentally thrown into the tear

like loop, they don't use any of the characters’ actual names

in order they call them little shine, housemaiden, fighter, researcher, and kid

basically the same as loop except for siffrin’s nickname

calls loop little galaxy, and calls the king crying one

loop would probably call them ghost

genuinely doesn’t remember anything about their past, but there are things that give them a sense of familiarity

can choose to make themselves visible or non-visible to siffrin, but can’t make themselves non-visible to loop

has free range when it comes to movement, can go wherever they want, but often chooses to stay beside siffrin

is oddly calm most of the time, and usually has a neutral expression unless they're expressing some sort of joy or acting mischievous

gives siffrin little pep talks at the start of every loop, but stops doing so after act 3

would suggest the use of siffrin's dagger to loop back really early into the loops, before the end of act 2

siffrin still wouldn’t go along with it until much later on

sometimes messes around the house since they're able to sometimes physically interact with the items around them

has caused the group (other than siffrin) to think that the house was genuinely haunted in multiple loops because of this, much to siffrin and loop’s annoyance

commentates a lot on what siffrin’s doing, even if he can’t hear them in the house

would suddenly act differently after act 2, when siffrin defeats the king only to get sent back

would express more emotion, namely frustration and impatience

would also show exasperation regarding siffrin deciding to stick to some script, wondering why something like that matters when they’re stuck

after act 3, would often immediately go to bonnie’s side and stay with them for as long as possible for a few loops

would also shut up about their annoyance regarding siffrin following a script, though they’d still see it as pointless when it comes to some of the stuff that he’s so adamant about keeping the same that wouldn't really put any of them in a life or death situation

would suddenly become visible to the rest of the group in act 5 after siffrin runs off into the house on their own, would partner up with loop to help guide them all to siffrin

Two Hats Spoilers below this line!!!

----------------------------------------------------

they're a siffrin from another universe

loop had a sneaking suspicion of this since their first meeting, and it was confirmed in one of the loops during act 4, in which lost decided to hang out with loop while siffrin went back into the house and the two of them had a talk

lost themself didn’t know that they were a siffrin from a different universe, but remembered when loop started talking about it

wished for something different compared to loop

wished to rest, and for their soul to be sent somewhere far away where it’ll actually matter

did not turn out as expected but oh well

doesn’t want to replace siffrin, just wants siffrin to be happy and live the life they couldn’t since he never gave up when they did

never reveals their true identity to siffrin, but siffrin suspected that they’re another siffrin after the uh. conversation. with loop in act 6

their spirit is finally able to rest after the loops end, so they fade away, leaving behind their silver coin and five-leaf clover

do they come back??? who knows it’s like a similar ending that loop had where they just faded

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 80K - 125K Words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

---

Tell Me Why You Love Me by @linnieluna

“Anyway, that piece of paper contains the name of this texting app. It’s completely anonymous, so you can download it, make your account with no attachments to your personal life, and communicate with me outside our suits. I included my username on the paper, too, so you can add me once you’re done."

Her partner skimmed through the words on the paper and nodded his head. “Brilliant as always, M’lady. I’m surprised we didn’t figure this out sooner within our superhero careers.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to have this before, but hey, better late than never. Make sure not to have your phone screen on the messages if you’re going to leave it somewhere. We don’t want anyone reading our texts. Also, this is for emergencies only. No jokes or puns. I can only deal with you for so long.”

“I don’t know if I can agree to that last one,” he said.

Now 22 and working full-time, Marinette and Adrien seem to be getting busier and busier, which means fewer opportunities to keep track of akumas and show up on time. With the idea of using a messaging app to communicate with each other without revealing their identities, their lives immediately grew to be easier... until it wasn't.

This starts off as a mostly slice-of-life fluff fic, but about halfway through things turn dramatic when Monarch learns some things he really shouldn’t and takes action. I had a lot of fun with it as it was coming out, it’s worth a read.

---

Kwami Magi Homura Magica by Crossoverpairinglover

After eighty-four loops in time, Homura Akemi takes a new path to Paris to save her friends.

The sixty-third loop after that, Homura arrived at the Agreste Mansion.

After clash after clash with the heroes of Paris and its greatest menace, events have reached a tipping point.

Ladybug faces someone verging on a second wish, a wish that endangers space and time to save a friend.

This was an absolutely AMAZING story that crossoverpairinglover dropped out of NOWHERE. Seriously, if you like Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Miraculous Ladybug, this is a real treat - but be prepared to sit down and binge, because it’s over 100,000 words and only has three chapters. 

Anyway, I adore the care that’s taken with going through Homura’s mindset here, she gets a lot of character focus. And the lore! There’s some good explanations here for the history behind kwamis and Incubators’ interactions, and the Order of the Guardians normally treats Magical Girls, and why the Incubators are wrong in their assessment of the universe needing more energy to stave off entropy (hint: it involves Plagg), and just... there was a lot of love put into this.

And the action! Most Miraculous fics don’t have much in the way of fight scenes, and what they do have is mostly just functional. This is one of the rare exceptions. There’s some really long, detailed fight scenes in this (roughly the entire second half of the second chapter has one between Ladybug and Homura), which are a treat to read! 

We also get some glimpses into a variety of other universes here, other timelines, alternate ways things could have gone down - I’m especially partial to the rather detailed view we get of one where Homura sent a message asking for help to the Ladyblog on her third time loop, and how things progressed from there. 

The ending I also thought was really good, a happy ending that generally made sense and dealt with the issue of the Incubators. 

If you can’t tell I’m really happy with this fic, it was incredible and unexpected. The length of the individual chapters can be daunting, but if you’re up for the task, I highly recommend giving it a shot!

---

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.

How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….

- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays

*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.

---

Eventually by @lucid-ao3

Adrien’s life has been dictated by rules, monitored, and controlled for years. He has learned to compartmentalize. It’s not that bad. It always gets better, eventually. Doesn’t it?

Recovery can be an unexpected obstacle when you didn’t realize you were being hurt in the first place.

OR: How Adrien lives and copes with the emotional abuse inflicted on him over the years, and how he ultimately could overcome it.

If you want a good “Adrien doesn’t realize how abusive his father is but slowly buckles more and more under his tyranny, until things come to a head, and he actually gets the HELP HE NEEDS” fic, this is a good one!

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Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.

Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years. 

As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.

I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.

[b3aches]

On "The Lost Cause" by Cory Doctorow

tl;dr - The Lost Cause is an worthwhile read that provides a feeling of hope for the future. As with many novels by Cory Doctorow, it takes place in the near future and showcases one possible future.

A future where humanity is taking the drastic actions needed to manage the fallout of the climate crisis. But also a future where humanity is dealing with the backlash from the older crowd that fears change and the plutocrats that fund them.

The story is told from the point of view of Brooks Palazzo, a young adult living in Burbank California thirty years from now. The Green New Deal has passed, and he is part of the "first generation that doesn’t fear the future". He wants to make a difference in the world by joining the Blue Helmets AmeriCorps and helping to rebuild the lower half of San Juan Capistrano a mile inland.

Not everything is all rainbows and roses, however. Brook's grandfather and his Maga pals aren't huge fans of the changing world though. Neither are the plutocrats that lost out due to the GND...

You can get a copy of the ebook or audiobook directly from the author here. You can also buy the audiobook from libro.fm or get a physical copy from bookshop.org as a hardcover now or pre-order the paperback. You can also check and see if your local library has a copy.

This is going to be less of a review and more of an admiration for a specific trope that is masterfully used. Due to the nature of the trope, there will be spoilers, including major plot points near the climax of the novel. If you want to go in blind, stop reading now.

"If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." — Anton Chekhov (From S. Shchukin, Memoirs. 1911.)

So, Chekhov's Gun. It's a guideline when writing narrative fiction that is commonly interpreted as: every element in a story should be needed, and anything that isn't needed should be removed. You could probably also think of it as a form of foreshadowing, but I'm not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

Anyway, spoiler alert - Brooks' grandfather dies during chapter one of the novel. As is common when a family member dies, the living have the chore of sorting through a lifetime's worth of items. As Brooks is the sole remaining person in his family, that task falls to him.

This leads to the below setup for the trope:

I felt around the edge and found a length of floorboard that wasn’t stuck down, and beneath it, a heavy nylon loop. I hauled on it and a square of floor lifted straight up, revealing Gramps’s secret. He’d jackhammered away a neat square of foundation slab, dug down about four feet, and poured a concrete vault, which he’d filled with: three AR-15s; forty boxes of ammo; a bag of expired high-strength antibiotics; a wilderness survival kit identical to the one he’d given me for my first Scout sleepout, including the hatchet my Scoutmaster had confiscated before we got on the bus; topographical maps of LA County; and, wrapped in oilcloth, a wooden box like you’d keep poker chips in, but this was full of krugerrands, heavy and glinting dully, dated mostly from the first and second decades of this century.

As guns are now illegal, this leads to Brooks stashing the guns, ammo, and gold in the hills of California by page 80. They get mentioned a few times throughout the novel, reminding you of their existence, but don't become really relevant to the plot until right before the climax.

A part of the story that almost feels like it could be the climax.

A group of Maga terrorists have taken Brooks' friends hostage. Brooks decides that in order to save his friends he has to go into the California hills and get the guns.

This, turns out, was not necessary. In fact, it's revealed later that the likeliest outcome of trying to perform an armed rescue would have been his death.

So, it comes to pass that the guns were introduced in the first act, and were subsequently not fired in the third.

The scene that completes the arc of trope:

That was what my grandfather had raised me to expect: a final confrontation, an all-out war, a battle for the future of the human race and its planet. That was what he was planning for, and right up until that moment, as I cleaned off his guns and hid them in the construction waste, I had never really considered the possibility that he’d been wrong. I’d thought there’d be a war with two sides: Gramps’s side and mine. I’d never thought that the real war would be between the people who refused to go to war and the fools who thought they could shoot climate change in the face.

So we have the setup, the implication that the guns will be used later in the novel. Only, they don't get used. They're practically useless, and almost actively harmful. But, given the themes and messaging of the book, the guns being useless is the only possible outcome. The subversion of this trope[0] drives the point home. Having some kind of final showdown isn't the message. Individuals storming the building with guns to to save the day would fly counter to the message of collective action being the way we move forward.

The message I took from the book was that building shelter for refugees is the way forward, even if doing that gets you arrested.

That feeding the hungry is the way forward, even if you get fined for it.

That taking care of people, even if those people were previously pointing a gun at you, is the way forward. (note: ensuring that they don't have access to their guns anymore is wise.)

The only way forward is to build the systems of mutual aid now, even if building those systems will be fraught with adversity and challenges.

No matter what happens, we will always be building the future in the shadow of the present. Only with collective action can we move forward, and only if we take care of each other.

[0] so, I'm not entirely convinced that this is really a subversion of the trope. While the guns aren't fired, they are necessary to the plot in the latter part of the book. But again, I am not an author nor an authority on narrative fiction.

[purechaoswitch]

Digital Community: A Case Study in Enchantment – The World of Tumblr

Welcome, wanderers of the mystical web. As you step into the crimson glow of this space, I—the Pure Chaos Witch—invite you to unravel the threads of an enchanting digital realm: Tumblr.

Tumblr is a unique platform, like a cauldron filled with creativity, individuality, and community. It is considered a place where creators and dreamers come together to share their work, spark ideas, and form unbreakable bonds that go beyond the ordinary.

After centuries of living and a lifetime of mastering chaos magic, I have gathered some valuable insights about the world and the community on Tumblr, which I have summarized in this post. So, what are you waiting for? Grab your spellbook and start taking notes, people ~~

The Veil of Anonymity: Pros and Cons

Anonymity on Tumblr serves as a double-edged sword. On one hand, it allows users to express themselves freely without fear of judgment, fostering honest feedback and reducing social pressure on various topics. This veil can be empowering, enabling individuals to share their deepest thoughts and creations without revealing their true identities (Metraux, 2022).

However, this cloak of invisibility can also be misused and enable harmful behaviors. The option to send anonymous messages, for instance, has sometimes been abused, leading to instances of cyberbullying, trolling and spreading misinformation (Omernick and Sood, 2013). Moreover, artists may find their work stolen or republished without due credit, as anonymity can obscure the trail back to the original creator.

Casting the Circle: The Power of Digital Communities

A digital community is not unlike a coven - a sacred space where like-minded individuals gather, united by shared purpose and passion. The magic of Tumblr lies in how it brings together diverse voices into one single vibrant and creative community. From fan art to political discussions, it offers a safe space for us to create our own personal havens within the vast expanse of the internet (McCracken, 2017).

But the real question is: What makes Tumblr so distinct from other platforms? It must be the ethos of co-creation. Unlike traditional social media platforms like Facebook or Instagram, Tumblr encourages reblogging, remixing, and reimagining content - an infinite loop of shared spells that amplify their power (Katrin Tiidenberg, Natalie Ann Hendry and Abidin, 2021).

The Evolution of Tumblr

Since its launch in 2007, Tumblr has evolved significantly. It began as a platform for microblogging and sharing multimedia, fostering a distinctive culture centered on creativity and fandoms. Over the years, features like reblogging and tagging were introduced, making it easier for users to engage and explore content. A major turning point in its evolution came with the rise of fandom culture, where Tumblr became the go-to hub for fan communities to thrive, collaborate, and share their passions.

(e.g., Supernatural, Sherlock, or Harry Potter fanbases).

However, policy changes, such as the 2018 ban on adult content, led to shifts in user dynamics and community structures (Sybert, 2021). Despite these changes, Tumblr continues to be a vibrant tapestry of diverse communities, adapting and evolving with the digital tides.

The Scarlet Insight

As a witch, I see Tumblr as a grimoire - each post a spell and each tag a rune. The platform thrives on the interplay of voices, where one person’s musings become the spark for another’s inspiration. Here, collaboration becomes empowerment, and anonymity offers great safety to express the unspoken (Nixon and Düsterhöft, 2018).

In this sacred digital space, the balance between individual expression and communal engagement fosters a unique kind of energy - a reminder that in unity, there is strength.

#BlackLivesMatter campaign or LGBTQ+ representation.

And, here are some notes and tips for our brilliant Tumblr creators (only if you are ready to start practicing magic on this platform *wink):

Tags: Think of tags as sigils. They guide others to your posts and make your content discoverable. You shall use them wisely.

Visuals: A picture paints a thousand spells. Accompany your words with captivating images or gifs to evoke a mood :)

Community: Engage, reblog, and interact as much as you can!!! The more you weave into the tapestry, the brighter your thread will shine.

As we walk hand in hand on this treacherous road, let us remember the core of Tumblr’s enchantment: the celebration of diversity, creativity, and unbridled passion. This is a space where magic thrives, and each of us is a sorcerer of our own making.

Until next time, or next week, my fellow mystics.

Your beloved chaos witch.

References

Katrin Tiidenberg, Natalie Ann Hendry and Abidin, C. (2021). Tumblr. Cambridge Medford, Ma Polity.

McCracken, A. (2017). Tumblr Youth Subcultures and Media Engagement. Cinema Journal, [online] 57(1), pp.151–161. doi:https://doi.org/10.2307/44867867.

Metraux, J. (2022). How Tumblr Helps Youth Continue to Be Seen and Heard - JSTOR Daily. [online] JSTOR Daily. Available at: https://daily.jstor.org/how-tumblr-helps-youth-continue-to-be-seen-and-heard/?utm_source=chatgpt.com [Accessed 20 Jan. 2025].

Nixon, P.G. and DüsterhöftI.K. (2018). Sex in the Digital Age. London ; New York: Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group.

Omernick, E. and Sood, S.O. (2013). The Impact of Anonymity in Online Communities. 2013 International Conference on Social Computing. doi:https://doi.org/10.1109/socialcom.2013.80.

Sybert, J. (2021). The Demise of #NSFW: Contested Platform Governance and Tumblr’s 2018 Adult Content Ban. New Media & Society, p.146144482199671. doi:https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444821996715.

[san-fics]

Debt To The Future

Felinette One Shot

(upcoming on Ao3, published on Patreon)

_________

Her train of thought was interrupted when Marinette saw Felix on the roof, walking with an irritated gait right towards the fire exit. Did Chat throw him here as well?!

“Hey, blondie!” Her own voice came from behind her as Marinette was put back on her feet. She turned around sharply, coming face to face with Ladybug, who turned out to be the one who actually caught her at the entrance to the building and threw her onto the roof.

“Will you look after her for me?” Ladybug continued, completely unmoved by Marinette’s dumbfounded look. “This girl keeps rushing towards Akuma. I don’t know what her deal is, but it’s dangerous, and I don’t have time to watch her myself!”

Marinette didn't know what was harder for her to believe in: that Ladybug, who was supposed to be her, was standing right in front of her at the moment, or how brazenly this impostor was lying, making her out to be some kind of absurd Alya-Cesaire-style-fan in front of Felix, who, meanwhile, stopped and looked from Marinette to Ladybug and back, frowning.

“You can't just toss people onto the roof like that!” He finally stated, his gaze fixed on the heroine. “We're not your toys,” while scolding Ladybug, he nevertheless came closer and stood next to Marinette, either to protect her from the heroine, or to really keep her on the roof, which, she hoped, wasn’t it.

_______________

TAGS: Aged-Up Character(s) | Co-workers | Designer Marinette | Established Relationship | Felinette | Felix Fathom | Felix Feels | First Kiss | Fluff | Getting Together | Happy Ending | Identity Reveal | Ladybug | Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Marinette is Over Adrien | Marinette x Felix | Married Couple | Miraculous Ladybug | Pining | Time Loop | Time Travel | Time Travel Fix-It

Felinette Tag list (ask me to join)

@mochegato

@thepapillonnoir

@snow-leopard-777

@loves-books

@turiankitty

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@readingismyoxygen

@aespades

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@jessigurl-design

@trippingovermyfeet

@apasponsor

@avs17

@fangirlingfanatic

@psychicdelusionwerewolf

@ur-beautiful-when-u-smile

@spicemallow

@kking13

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@rosesandsailboats

@soap-lady

@queens1234

@cafedeagua

@lizslibrary

@jdcarmelo

@jaykii1195

@trashyangelic

[kazumasdiary]

that 2-3 cutscene, part iii: barok

you know that cold sinking feeling you get when something you’d kind of guessed but hadn't confirmed yet turns out to be true? like, you knew, but you didn't have proof- and now you do, and there's just this pit in your stomach, because even if you knew you didn't want it to be true?

yeah, that’s barok in this.

going into this scene, barok has more than enough information to put things together. if you show him your armband at the very beginning of 2-3 he asks what it is, and when you explain, he asks why you're showing it to him. but then he says this:

“......... I can understand, at least... ...there's merit in reminding yourself of who helped you become what you are today.”

as a response to “here's the thing that marks me as a lawyer,” this doesn't make any sense- the armband belongs to ryunosuke, why would it remind him of someone else- unless barok knows, to some extent, what happened on that ship: that ryunosuke got that armband from a friend who died, who is the reason ryunosuke became a lawyer, and it is a reminder of that friend. and just to hammer it in, on his next line, he gets a very particular damage animation: specifically, the one where he looks away and puts one hand over what we will later find out is, of course, his dead brother’s prosecution badge. 

this is all circumstantial evidence at best, but why would barok reference these parallels between him and ryunosuke so strongly, unless he knew they were there? unless he knew that ryunosuke, like him, lost someone close to him, and now works as a lawyer in their name?

and three months ago, barok got a new apprentice: who doesn't remember anything about himself, who's not allowed to show his face in front of anyone, and who’s not allowed to speak to “anyone outside of this office”- which excludes most people but, notably, does not exclude barok. so if we assume that barok knew about what happened on the ss burya, then, given that kazuma speaks with a japanese accent, barok can probably realize those two things are most likely not a coincidence.

and again, we have no proof for this, but barok knew genshin. If genshin ever mentioned his son’s name in front of barok, and barok remembers it, then once susato says kazuma’s name on that exhibition stage, barok has all the pieces to put together everything that's revealed at the end of 2-3.

and barok’s no fool. i think he does put those pieces together. i think by the time we reach that last stretch of trial, he knows who kazuma is, and how kazuma relates back to him. when you first start poking at the professor case with that waxwork, he says

“You should know... ...that you're on the brink of opening Pandora's box.”

as a reaction, this makes sense- this is a messy painful case with a fair bit of mystery still surrounding it and you're dragging it back up again- but this would also make sense for someone who has very recently realized that something more is going on here, something that loops back to the professor case, and he may not know what it is but he knows that it’s why he has this apprentice, here, now.

i think barok knew what was going on here. i think he knew that something about the professor case was crawling back from the dead, and i think that's in part why he chooses to reveal the secret to ryunosuke at the end of this case.

and i think in that final cutscene, his reaction is less shock, or surprise, and more just that cold, quiet feeling of, “oh. i was right.”

technically, this is not really a betrayal on kazuma’s part. kazuma didn't remember- it's not like he was choosing to apprentice himself to barok, or to hide his identity. but the technicalities of it don't matter. barok may not trust anyone, but if he had any faith in his apprentice at all- and he would have had to, at least enough to fight with kazuma by his side- then functionally this is a betrayal.

we don't see a lot of barok’s reaction in this cutscene. and that's fair! there's a lot going on! but i'd hazard a guess that at least part of it is about taking every emotion he's ever felt about his apprentice and shoving it as far away from him as possible. he made the mistake of letting himself have an ally again- and then it turns out that that ally is the son of the man who destroyed his life, the son of the first person to break his trust so badly that ten years later he still doesn’t believe in anything.

barok’s been betrayed once before. and now another person standing beside him has turned out to be part of something dark and terrible, that destroyed his life once and may very well do so again. no wonder barok calls him the living afterimage of his father. 

like everyone else, barok experiences the ending of 2-3 as a resurrection. but for him it’s a revival of something he knew- and never wanted to see again.

(again, credit to @ifidogaysomyself for the basis of a lot of these thoughts.)

| susato | ryunosuke | kazuma |

[unholyfms]

ARCANUM NIGHTS : SECRET REVEAL 001

Glass House is known for its quiet and serene comfort during the day. Wisteria welcomes you in and taps your shoulder on the way out. Tonight, the venue is enticing with loud music coming from inside it's courtyard— but you can only get in with an invitation.

However, being a guest isn't just a prize tonight. Secrets that threaten the halos of Los Angeles favorite angels are woven into the decorations of the celebration for Glass House. They're subtly attached to the most simple of components, which could drive anyone to a paranoia to keep the rest from seeing if anyone's noticed at all.

Projected on to the walls during the DJ's take of the night, a silhouette paints the walls every so often from what appears to be footage of a low quality camera. No faces are shown, but certainly someone in the city knows the curve of those lips if not the body that dances for the camera. Most guests brush it off as a female model from stock footage, but there's a chance they know the sounds of pleasure that fill the space between songs.

Every napkin served with a signature cocktail has printed receipts and scrawled lines of debt. Names are cut out but there's no denying that even with the weakest of math skills, the total would make even the rich have their stomachs turn. All receipts, put together, come to a grand total of over 600,000 dollars.

In the restrooms, the speakers that are meant to carry the music into every corner of the venue seem to have an interference. Every so often, the music is drowned out by a voice that seems to be coming from a different source. The voice is that of a woman who seems to adamant about having papers signed, and follow up with contracts. No name can be heard except key points such as 'the show', 'the NDA', and 'the baby' which makes it evident that this is a private conversation.

Menus for drinks and food come with a superimposed photo in the background, but the details aren't given much thought when you're trying to read small text to order some grub. If you pull back farther enough, you'll see a surveillance footage screencap of a blonde taking an item from a store and then walking out the door.

Formal pamphlets explaining the success of Glass House can be found at the front. However, on some pages the history of the club house has been replaced with a poorly printed copy of a form from Planned Parenthood dated 2014. The names are hard to read, but there's a signature that is cut off in the printing signing as consent that may be familiar to those in a smaller industry. The loop of an R can be seen cut from the edge of the paper.

Printed on speciality drinks with cream on top is an image of what seems to be mugshots but the identity fizzles away quickly. The machine has yet to be perfected in its printing, but surely they'll fix it before the end of the night. With every drink, they're a little bit closer to making a clear image of a man with a strong jaw, a wide nose, and the curve of his ears beside his head.

Flashing the screens behind the stage every is a scroll through a set of text messages, though it's hard to read. If you pay any mind, the same set of words seem to be easier to read— are you sure, is it mine, how do you know, have you tested.