#info card master post

[star-gunk]

INFO CARD MASTERPOST

KQ credits: @cleverperfectionstrawberry

Rogue Kinger and writing credits: @obamerzslop

(Their finally done)

[sm-baby]

I want to see all the carnival AU bios again, but finding Zooble's is too hard, even when using the search. I hope there's a more organized way to view them.

(Trying to come up with nicknames that said characters would give my characters.)

CARNIVAL AU MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES

Augh... I never know how to organize stuff! But here is a mini master post of the TADC Info Cards (edited):

The Main Cast (Minus Zooble :C)

Zooble ( Plus Zooble!!! :3)

Shiny Cards ✨

Lesser AI

THE GLOINKS!!!

Level layout

OFFICIAL COMIC:

The Entire Comic has also been dubbed by @volticglitch !! If you're not a reader, You can watch their dubs instead!! Here is the dub

Your best friend!

Jesterly duties

The hallway

Crying

First clue

Special event!

Foul language - a silly

Excuse me?

Leave!

A word with Bubble

Let it Settle

I'm sorry

CONCEPT ART:

Characters Relationship Chart ( Bonus, OC relationship Chart!)

The Tent

The Funhouse

Cutscene

Pomni expressions

Character design

Meet Pomni

ALT character skins (Bonus, Maid skins because of course I did)

Pomni expressions AGAIN!!! (and a bonus)

The Jester's Circus tent (and a bonus)

References

Shape language ramble

LOREEE:

Neck pieces

Neck pieces (prt 2)

Neck pieces (prt 3)

Silly Frilly

Toxic Positivity Duo

Quick Ragatha Doodle

The Rabbit

Non-sentient Pomni

Pity Laugh

First act of violence

First and only visit

DOODLE DUMPS:

First look

Meet Jax

Meet Ragatha

Meet Kinger

Meet Able

Zooble's room

Theatre shinanigans

Thanks for listening

Jax Doodles

Ragatha doodles (Feat. Kaufmo)

Caine doodles

Queenie?

Colored doodles

Eye popping

Jax Ko-fi request!

SILLIES!!:

The "Sillies!!" Section is moved HERE becuase the mastpost couldn't take any more links!

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES/FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In Carnival?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay, just be sure to warn and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - Yes and please show me!! that would be lovely!! " Can I dub/voice your stuff?" - Yes but, I have only one rule... show me pleaaasseeee pls pls pls 🥺🙏 " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Aughh.. this is gonna suck to explain cuz its a lot to ask.. You're allowed to ship any ship! My only boundary is that it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine being with others who are not eachother! For example: Ragatha x Jax ✅ Pomni x Jax❌ Kinger x Queenie✅ Kinger x Caine❌ As long as the ship does not include Pomni or Caine individually, I'm all aboard!! I respect Jax x Pomni shippers, as well as Kinger x caine shippers, I just don't like them myself and don't want to accidentally stumble upon them in the tag! I do apologize if that's a lot, it just makes me uncomfy! Bounderies can be very tight! :')

[pipthegreat]

Info Cards‼️

These took a while to make but I fairly like how they turned out. These are all ordered from the oldest to newest member of Digital Fun Park!

Welcome to Digital Fun Park, a canceled VR horror game that was brought back to life.

When the company gave up on an in-progress horror game, it was left to fade away. But a virus inside of it came to life and couldn't stand being lonely anymore, so it brought people to its digital world.

Poster:

How abstraction works:

The Adventures:

The Solar Eclipse:

First designs + lineup:

I'll edit this post when I make "important" things about the au, also please ask me questions because I absolutely love this au!!

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

Comics:

* Jax's hatred

* What could happen

* First introduction

* Gangle's comics

* A silly mistake

* The Mask

* Bonding

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

Info:

* Tadc / dfp

* Missing parts

* Outside the park

* Bubble

* Rest

* Abstracted

* Gloink Queen

* Fear of the park

* Defense

* Closed eye

* Jax.

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

"Can I make fanart?":

Of course you can! I don't mind at all and it makes me extremely happy!

"Is there any ships?":

There are no cannon ships in this au but if you want to ship the characters you can totally go for it! Self shipping is also welcome! As long as it doesn't involve minor x adult though.

"Can I make NSFW?":

You do you, just don't send it to me alright? ^^

[williceunleashed]

Finally done with the Post BW2 N reference !!! I did Anthea and Concordia previously, this little guy needed one too !

Design notes and infos under the cut !

I took the idea from the manga that N's jewelry where gifts from his sisters ! The original black, blue and yellow necklace was a gift from Ghetsis in this story. N throwing away that thing is a sign that he is finally moving on and healing, not hoping for Ghetsis' impossible-to-obtain approval anymore !

He has a new jacket, which I made fluffy and relatively large for comfort !

His new necklace is a gift from Dardanne. It replicates a Zoroark mane's orb ! It's a simple spherical shape, without pieces embedded in it like his previous necklace (something something symbolism about starting anew without negative external influences)

Changed his shoes I'm so sorry I need them changed........

Pokémon team :

N's pokémon aren't a team per say, more so just his pokémon friends who enjoy battling alongside him. They are free to leave whenever they wish. They all have distinct names in pokémon language, but can't be translated to human language, leading to them being called simply after their species name.

The Zorua is the one who can be adopted in BW2, which I headcanon was returned to N !

Zoroark is of course his original Zorua/Zoroark

I chose to add Sigilyph as this pokémon forms a pair with N in Masters !

Klinklang is there from the pokémon cards, as N has the whole evolutionary line, confirming that this is the same Klink/Klinklang in Chargestone Cave and in his final battle !

Purrloin and Joltik are here because I love them that's it.........

Munna is the only pokémon who was never a part of N's team ! She was given to him as a support pokémon to help deal with the trauma and psychological issues Plasma and Ghetsis caused, as a psychic pokémon she helps N calm down, avoid meltdowns, shutdowns and panic attacks

[digi-lov]

— A Getting Into Digimon Master Post

▙▚ TOYS - ANIME - GAMES - COMICS & MANGA - NOVELS - CARDS ▞▟

I've been getting asked a couple times how to get into Digimon, so I figured I collect some posts and info in a master post!

Digimon is a multi media franchise, so there really is no one way to get into Digimon. But I hope this post can help people getting an idea what to look for.

Digimon Card Sleeve Artwork by Tonamikanji

Shout ot to wikimon.net for a ton of the information, and to Digimon Basic - an amazing resource for Digimon material!

▙▚ DIGIMON WEB

As I mentioned, Digimon is a multi media franchise, and there is some content of just general Digimon lore on Digimon Web. There some fun facts to read up upon! There's also the official Digimon Reference Book / Encyclopedia online.

• Digimon Encyclopedia • Appmon Encyclopedia • Agumon Expert Research Profiles • Digimon Journal

▙▚ TOYS

So Digimon, or Digital Monsters, originally started as a virtual pet toy. I made a Post about this origin and relation to the Tamagotchi frachise before. ▞▟ Check it out here >>

Besides that, Digimon released many many "Digivice" toys tying into the animes, but also figurines and much more. I don't have nearly enough expertise to cover them in more details, but there is a LOT! You can check out the LCD Toy history on the official website, and even that doesn't cover all of it!

▙▚ ANIME

The first and second season of the anime, and the surrounding movies, share a continuity, but aside from that all seasons are self contained and you can watch whichever you want.

Notably, Adventure recently got newly released blu rays with japanese audio and english subtitles! ▞▟ You can get them at the Crunchyroll shop >>

I know some people like the english dub, but personally, I honestly don't like it at all... I do really like the german dub, but I really recommend watching the Japanese version. It's my favorite and is considered canon.

Adventure: Digimon Adventure (Movie) (1999) •Digimon Adventure (Season 1) (1999-2000) Digimon Adventure: Our War Game (Movie) (2000) •Digimon Adventure 02 (Season 2) (2000-2001) Digimon Adventure 02: Hurricane Touchdown!! Supreme Evolution!! The Golden Digimentals (Movie) (2000) (Digimon the Movie is a super cut of all previous movies done by the dub team) Digimon Adventure 02: Diaboromon Strikes Back (Movie) (2001) •Digimon Adventure tri. (6 Movies or 24 Episodes) (2015-2018) Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna (Movie) (2020) Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning (Movie) (2023) [Digimon Adventure: (Reboot) (2020)] Tamers: • Digimon Tamers (Season 3) (2001-2002) Digimon Tamers: The Adventures’ Battle (Movie) (2001) Digimon Tamers: The Runaway Digimon Express (Movie) (2002) Frontier: • Digimon Frontier (Season 4) (2002-2003) Digimon Frontier: Revival of the Ancient Digimon (Movie) (2002) Savers/Data Squad: • Digimon Savers / Data Squad (Season 5) (2006-2007) Digimon Savers The Movie: Ultimate Power! Activate Burst Mode!! (Movie) (2006) Xros Wars/Fusion: • Digimon Xros Wars / Fusion (2010-2012) Appmon: • Digimon Universe Appli Monsters (2016-2017) Ghost Game: • Digimon Ghost Game (2021-2023)

▙▚ GAMES

Like the anime, Digimon games are almost all completely self contained. Essentially the only exception is a couple WonderSwan games centered around Ryo Akiyama. They're also almost all widely different! No Digimon game is truly like another! In the list below I put well known games in bold, and more obscure games, or the ones never released in the West in small. I also left out all "dead" mobile games.

· Digital Monster Ver. S: Digimon Tamers (1998) (Sega Saturn) [JP only] • Digimon World (1999) (PS1) · Digital Monster Ver. WonderSwan (1999) (WonderSwan) [JP only] · Digimon World: Digital Card Battle (1999) (PS1) [JP only] · Digimon Adventure: Anode Tamer & Cathode Tamer (1999/2000) (WonderSwan) (EN release "Veedramon Version") · Digimon Adventure 02: Digital Partner (2000) (WonderSwan) [JP only] · Pocket Digimon World (2000) (PS1) [JP only] > Pocket Digimon World: Wind Battle Disc (2000) (PS1) [JP only] > Pocket Digimon World: Cool & Nature Battle Disc (2001) (PS1) [JP only] • Digimon World 2 (2000) (PS1) · Digimon Adventure 02: Tag Tamers (2000) (WonderSwan) [JP only] · Digimon Adventure 02: D1 Tamers (2000) (WonderSwan Color) [JP only] ·Digimon World: Digital Card Arena (2000) (PS1) ·Digimon Tamers: Pocket Culumon (2001) (PS1) [JP only] ·Digimon Tamers: Digimon Medley (2001) (WonderSwan Color) [JP only] ·Digimon Park (2001) (PS1) [JP only] • Digimon Tamers: Battle Spirit (2001) (WonderSwan Color / GBA) > Digimon Tamers: Battle Spirit Ver. 1.5 (2002) (WonderSwan Color) [JP only] > Digimon Frontier: Battle Spirit / Battle Spirit 2 (2002) (WonderSwan Color / GBA) ·Digimon Typing (2001) (PC) [JP only] • Digimon Tamers: Battle Evolution / Rumble Arena (2001) (PS1) ·Digimon Tamers: Brave Tamer (2001) (WonderSwan Color) [JP only] • Digimon World 3 / 2003 (2002) (PS1) ·Digital Monsters: D-Project (2002) (WonderSwan Color) [JP only] ·Digimon Racing (2004) (GBA) • Digimon Battle Chronicle / Rumble Arena 2 (2004) (PS2 / GCN) • Digimon World X / World 4 (2005) (PS2 / GCN) • Digimon Story / Digimon World DS (2006) (DS) ·Digimon Savers: Another Mission / Digimon World Data Squad (2006) (PS2) • Digimon Story: Sunburst & Moonlight / Digimon World Dawn & Dusk (2007) (DS) ·Digimon Championship / Digimon World Championship (2008) (DS) ·Digimon Masters (2009) (PC) [Korea only] · Digimon Story: Lost Evolution (2010) (DS) [JP only; EN Fan Translation exists] · Digimon Story: Super Xros Wars Blue & Red (2011) (DS) [JP only] • Digimon World Re:Digitize (2012) (PSP) > Digimon World Re:Digitize Decode (2013) (3DS) [JP only; EN Fan translation exists] · Digimon Adventure (2013) (PSP) [JP only; EN Fan translation exists] • Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth (2015) (PSV, PS4, Switch, PC) • Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth Hacker’s Memory (2015) (PSV, PS4, Switch, PC) • Digimon World -next 0rder- (2016) (PSV, PS4, Switch, PC) · Digimon Universe Appli Monsters (2016) (3DS) [JP only] · Digimon New Century (2021) (Smart Phone) [CH only] • Digimon Survive (2022) (PS4, Switch, PC, XBO)

There's also a couple Fan Games I've been enjoying, that I want to shout out here:

• Digital Partner by Aludeku • Digital Tamers 2 by dragonrod342 • Digital Monster NET DRIVER by kuhamaven / Alice Studios

▙▚ COMICS & MANGA

Digimon has several comic or manga adaptations, some longer but many short promotional works for new releases.

Although there's way more older Manga, I will start with a list of modern Comics/Manga, as we have received a variety recently!

The big one right now is Digimon Liberator! I've been loving it personally. It's a full color web comic, so it has not normal page layout and instead is just scrolling. When it first released I made a post with my Spoiler Free Opinion on the Prologue and Chapter one! ▞▟ Check it out here >> Read Digimon Liberator on the Official Website, GlobalComix or Webtoon!

But Liberator is actually not the only comic currently running!! Thanks to the Digimon Comic project we have FIVE more ongoing series to check out on the official Digimon Web site!

• Digimon Rikollection by Okutsuwa Waga • Digimon Paradox by Minato Ayumu • Digimon Knuckles by Soda Ichigo • Story of the Royal Knights by Yabuno Tenya • Digimon Seekers ~Witch of the Crossroads~ by Kariki Hajime

If you read any of the comics above, show your support by answering the survey on the website!

• C'mon Digimon: The capering monster BUN (1997) (Author: Izawa Hiroshi | Illus: Yabuno Tenya | Publ: Shueisha - Akamaru Jump) • Digimon Adventure V-Tamer (1998-2003) (Author: Izawa Hiroshi | Illus: Yabuno Tenya | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Chronicle (2003) (Author: Shisheni Okorarana | Illus: Moriyama Soh | Publ: Bandai) • Digimon Next (2005-2008) (Author: Okano Takeshi | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Xros Wars (2010-2012) (Author: Nakashima Yuu | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon World Re:Digitize (2012) (Author: Fujino Kouhei | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon World Re:Digitize Encode (2013) (Author: Fujino Kouhei | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth (2015) (Author: Fukuda Ikumi | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Universe Appli Monsters (2016-2017) (Author: Akamine Naoki | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Universe Appli Monsters: Appmon Academy!! (2016-2017) (Author: Hirose Katsuki | Publ: Shueisha - Saikyo Jump) • Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth Hacker's Memory (2017) (Author: Akamine Naoki | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump) • Digimon Chronicle X (2018-2020) (Author: Moriyama Soh | Publ: Shueisha - V-Jump / Digimon Web) • Digimon Dreamers (2021-2024) (Author: Yabuno Tenya | Publ: Shueisha - Saikyo Jump / Digimon Web)

▙▚ NOVELS

There two big web Novels of note for the Digimon franchise. Firs one is Digimon Seekers, which ran from 2023-2024 and consistes of 4 Chapters plus an Epilogue. You can read it on the official Website, but many fans noted the english translation being not great at certain points, so some dedicated fans edited the translation to fix the issues.

The second is Digimon Liberator, which is not simply a novel version of the web comic, but instead tells the story from the perspective of a different protagonist! From what I can tell, the translation for this one is better, although they sometimes mess up the card effects, so make sure to read the actual cards, which are included as pictures.

• Digimon Seekers: Official - Fan Edited Translation • Digimon Liberator: Official Website

▙▚ CARDS

Finally, what this blog is all about really, the Card Game. There have been many Digimon Card Games over the years, but I'm really only familiar with the current one. If you want to try learning it, there is a tutorial app in the Play Store, and a Rules video on the official YouTube channel that covers the essentials. There are also Fan made simulators to play online, with dedicated fan bases that you will surely find people to play with or show you the ropes!

If you just like the look of some of the cards, I encourage you to check the pricing on cards you got your eyes on. If the card isn't insanely diffcult to get and important for meta decks, you have fairly good chances to get some gorgeous cards for reasonable prices! I also collect Pokémon Cards, and let me tell you, the production quality of the Digimon Cards is leagues above.

[sensational-blue]

The Amazing Digital Café AU Masterpost

Introducing my TADC AU called the Cafe! au!

This AU is a slice of life kinda story akin to that of anime that focuses on maid cafes and the like, as well as the everyday modern life of the TADC cast + my OC.

(p.s I have no clue what Im doing when making this master post. lol)

Info Cards

I am very excited about this AU and I hope you all enjoy this first little tidbit of the character introductions.

Also if you have any questions, wanna say something about the characters, wanna give some suggestions, funny ideas to draw, or anything,

MY ASKS ARE OPEN

(please send me asks I think it would be so fun) Anyway, Enjoy!

I will be updating this later when I have more.

[jesncin]

Chimera Constantine breakdown, refs & nods mega-post

Welcome to the master post of behind the scenes for the Chimera Constantine comics. In the style of the Sons of Mars ones I made, this post archives our research and process. So here we go! This will be a mix of showing references and personal anecdotes for how we cobbled this project together.

I'll be repeating some things I've mentioned across blog posts because I like having all this info in one place.

So! There's a lot of ways to go about re-interpretation and re-imagining a story, and one of my techniques is to not get overly attached to research. While it's good to be informed about a character, sometimes knowing every little thing about them can make one hesitant to innovate and try something different with them. So I'm purposely mindful about how much material I research.

But how does something like that work when the character in question has only 2-3 total appearances, one arc, and a quick revisit several years later? We play twin telephone.

For this project, Cin read the Hellblazer Golden Boy arc and vaguely retold it to Jes, who would then write a story based on assumptions and half-remembered memories of the story. Letting personal experience, influences and bias fill the blanks. We're inspired by how Naoki Urusawa wrote Pluto based on his mis-remembered memories of reading Astro Boy. Also when I was a kid I used to look at book covers and summaries and make up a story based on the limited information I was given. It's fun for me. Part of why I love obscure characters so much is that the lack of content about them lets the reader fill in the blanks about their lives and try telling new stories about them that aren't constrained by a saturated canon.

The original Golden Boy arc written by Jamie Delano (#39-40) is about John Constantine coming to the realization that he strangled his twin in the womb. After taking some 'shrooms, John...manifests into another reality, it's very surreal. There, John meets his twin from a universe where John had died, and his brother gets to live. The twin (taking on the name John Constantine, we'll call him Golden Mage to keep it simple) is John's opposite in every better way. They decide to merge their souls to restore...the universe. You kind of had to be there.

John's twin returns many issues later (#249) to wrap up a different arc, there he and the story are written by Andy Diggle.

The first panel of our full comic references the tarot cards John gets from his reading with Zed.

This panel is a direct reference to this scene where John sees his own shadow on a curtain after his reading with Zed. I like the imagery of this arc, even when the dialogue describing twins is really cringe. We changed it to a mirror to reinforce the mirror imagery throughout the comic. Speaking of which...!

Through Jes' reworking of the story, mirrors were streamlined to be the main way alternate universes were portrayed in the story. They'd be the main motif that paralleled the twins too. In issue #249 of Hellblazer, John uses the mirror to confront his twin who resides within himself after their soul-merge years ago.

The line "He's so beautiful, he frightens me." is spoken by a doctor witnessing the Golden Boy's birth in his universe. We repurposed it to be John's dialogue for when he's describing the man he sees in the mirror.

John's twin uses a sacrifice involving these candles to summon his sickly twin. Jes repurposed the use of candles to a magic salt circle that contains spirits like the Golden Boy (he's nicknamed "Goldie" in our take).

The Golden Boy! Even though he died in the womb, he's portrayed as a boy. Probably because a floating fetus wasn't what they were going for. We wanted to give him a distinct look that foreshadows how much he would grow his hair out. I like that his mouth isn't visible! We use the shape of his eyes and posing to get across how he's feeling. It gives him a vacant-toddler-stare I find really endearing.

We made some minor adjustments to the Golden Mage's design. Initially, we followed his canonical pulled back long hair. But since he was a challenging character to emote when we had one less arm to work with, we decided to part his hair so that it could carry how he's feeling. I like when I can get it to cover a part of his face for intense moments! If it was animated, it would 100% be expressive Ghibli hair.

Our main goal for Golden Mage's characterization is to make him feel like his own person. In the original arc, he's less of a sibling and more of an au of John Constantine himself. He doesn't get his own name. Despite gloating about having a better and more fulfilling love life than John, he also shared the exact same love interests John does. Being a twin is less about a family story and more a vehicle to talk about self hatred and potential here. Which isn't fair to the individuality of the characters!

(note, this is not how the panels look in the og comic, I've rearranged them so that they display on this post better)

So we characterized the Golden Mage to still have his canon charisma (albeit with the dialogue toned way down from his original appearance), but to have a thinly veiled temper under all that bravado to foil his con-man trickster brother. The Golden Mage was vaguely described as not being particularly attached to the love he receives. Golden Mage is also dismissive of his womb twin's death, saying it's something he shouldn't grieve since he never really knew him. We reinterpreted these lines as him being in denial over his brother's death, thinking himself as above his own feelings of grief.

Also as a tiny note, we kept the Golden Mage's name ambiguous to keep with the vibe of the original comic, but in my mind I headcanon his full name to be Marigold "Goldie" Constantine. The yellow flower is culturally associated with prosperity, but also grief and jealousy. It's perfect for him! So we made references to the flower in the cover and first panels of the comic. I also headcanon that as a kid he called John Constantine's ghost "Johnny".

My influences for how this whole beginning meeting scene is staged and played out is E.M Carroll's When I Arrived At The Castle. The "animated" panels of Golden Mage looking back at John and breaking through the mirror is a direct call back to the keyhole sequence in that comic! The premise of daydreaming about how your life could have been and not realizing that you're staring at an alternate universe is loosely inspired by Junji Ito's Hellstar Remina. I really like the concept of staring into the unknown and then something sentient staring back from that. "What if our day dreams are just other realities we're dreaming of" kind of deal. I don't see that sort of thing in the saturation of multiverse stories these days.

Next reference is the Dead Boy's Heart! While I like that this story's its own thing, I was surprised it wasn't linked to John's dead brother in any way. It felt thematically relevant, so we brought it over as a device to trap Goldie while the brothers merge souls.

Twins can be positioned in a bunch of ways in the womb. I think canonically, John and Golden Mage were positioned like they are in the cover for Hellblazer #39, ideal for strangling I guess! We changed it to echo the motion of yin and yang. I do think the inclusion of yin and yang is a little cringey in the original comic even though I get what it's going for (balance and all that, it's just kind of simplistic to the philosophy). But I do like it as a way to echo card imagery we established in this comic. We combined the imagery of the tarot cards featured in the Golden Boy arc and King/Queen/Joker playing cards. So it felt right to bring back that whole upside down twins in the womb thing. Special fact, this is how my twin and I were vibing in the womb.

The scene where the twins hit Ctrl + E to merge layers! It's a pretty iconic pose! I like how their heads peaked out of the panels so I brought it back for our comic too. In our version, the twins fail to merge their souls entirely. In the revisit to the Golden Boy character in the comics in issue #249, it's revealed that the merging "failed" in some way, trapping the Golden Mage within John's soul.

For John's ghost counterpart from Golden Mage's universe we took Dave McKean's portrayal of him very literally haha. I know he doesn't literally have one eye, but we thought it gave him a really distinct look for us to stylize. We decided to keep the ghost kids consistent with no mouth and vacant pupil-less stares. We gave ghost kid!John a sort of bedsheet ghost form to contrast against Goldie.

Speaking of one eye! That's another motif we decided to emphasize throughout the comic. It's not in the source material at all, but we liked it as a way to both hint at chimerism and visualize how the two brothers serve as incomplete halves of each other. Special fact! Heterochromia can show up in chimera twins. Of course in the case of identical twins like the Constantines, their chimerism isn't as detectable since they have identical sets of DNA. But! It's still fun to stylize in a supernatural way. For our take we show the glowing golden eye as the soul of the Golden Boy manifesting in his brother. I like to think that John takes advantage of how undetectable his chimerism is to have an upper hand in any soul-related deals he makes.

This stylized heterochromia is inspired by @ratblazer 's Constantine design! I made a subtle nod to it with young punk John's make up echoing the scar in her design too.

For John's dynamic with Goldie the Golden Boy, we built the conflict of the story around making him doubt his attachment to his dead brother. There's a line of dialogue in the revisited Golden Boy arc about John needing to "let go", so we repurposed it into the Golden Mage assuring him that his attachments make him weak.

Even though the Golden Boy doesn't show up nearly as much as I think he should in canon, John has been shown to be really sentimental about him. John wants to be the Golden Boy's friend because he's so beautiful John mistook him for Jesus as a kid. Canonically, the Golden Boy ghost rejects John's friendship, likely still not over the whole strangulation in the womb thing. It still breaks John's heart though, he's a sobbing mess about being owned by a dead kid.

We changed this whole dynamic! The twin murder in the womb felt very X-men Xavier vs Cassandra Nova, and it's hard to get behind babies having that much motivation before they're even born. In our version, Goldie is a vanishing twin absorbed by John, the sickly twin. Infants being accidentally strangled by umbilical cords does occur in reality. However, we changed their origin to being that of Vanishing Twin syndrome because it was more specific for the ideas we were going for.

I feel this crucial change is more in tune with the overall themes of Hellblazer. John always cheats death at a cost. People are constantly sacrificed for John's continued survival. But the Golden Boy's case would be special, because he sacrificed himself out of love before he even knew what it means to love. Unlike the other ghosts that haunt John Constantine, Goldie isn't resentful of John. I think it makes more sense for the Golden Boy to be attached to John because he's all the Golden Boy's ever known. As a chimera twin, John is like a horcrux holding his brother's soul in his body. This reaffirms survivor's guilt to be something John experiences since his birth.

Canonically, although the Golden Mage initially feels sorry for the ghost of John that haunts him, he rejects John as well. John's ghost in canon is like a nuisance that keeps bothering Golden Mage. There's an instance mentioned of Golden Mage trying to recreate his murder in the womb? It's cryptically written. But Golden Mage does keep using the phrase "banished" to describe his brother.

We took this and made it so that he performed an exorcism on himself to remove his supernatural chimera-bond to John's ghost. The Golden Boy arc is pretty unique when compared with how saturated multiverse stories are nowadays since it doesn't share the science fiction sensibilities. Grief comes up a lot in multiverse stuff, in these stories characters use parallel universes to save a loved one as they're bargaining with their loss. For our take, we wanted a character to use the alternate universes to hurt and lash out at the loved one they're grieving. I pulled influence from Everything Everywhere All At Once's concept of a self destructive character on a search for the one familial connection who could understand what they're feeling.

References! The first panel is a nod to issue #36 where John is sleeping with Marj. We changed her to Kit. The second panel is a direct callback to issue #67, an iconic visual for his break up angst era.

Trivia; this page was added at the last minute! I needed something to bridge the birthday cupcake page and the final panel of Golden Mage's breakdown, so I linked them through candles! In this weird case, I reference my own work! This is a callback to Birthdays, a short comic we made for John Constantine's canonical birthday. It sets the premise for his relationship with Goldie based on the habits and experiences of survivor twins. The pages referencing this comic are meant to re-establish that John shares meals with his twin.

I wanted this page to feel like John's lighting an incense for his dead brother, and to contrast it with the snuffed out candles from Golden Mage's flashback. The candle has a yellow and blue intertwined spiral pattern that calls back to the color of John and Golden mage's dialogue boxes and speech bubbles, along with how twisted they look when they merged. Implying that in this universe, they're together in some way. I really wish I did this intentionally but it was by complete coincidence of making the cupcake pink and balancing it out with pastel primaries. But I sure can acknowledge how cool it looks symbolically okay???

The dialogue here is a nod to John's monologue in issue #19 where John is comforting Simon Hughes. It's re-contextualized a bit to be about sharing grief together in our comic.

This is a really goofy one but- since Golden Mage is supposed to be the fully realized potential of John, we thought that he would have a successful career as a musician and singer where John didn't. I don't think Golden Mage would be a punk singer though, he probably does something he'd consider more elevated.

BUT-! In the 30th Anniversary edition of Hellblazer, Sting (the guy John's appearance is based on) wrote an introduction for the edition while roleplaying as the Golden Boy. Which is nuts. The Anniversary edition basically canonized Sting as being a Constantine variant in our universe with the soul of Golden Boy. Sting, as Golden Boy, describes himself as a musician and singer too. Absolutely bonkers for Sting to throw me a bone this late in the game since no one's touched this character in ages.

Another E.M Carroll influenced panel sequence. This is from the digital comic Out of Skin.

So that brings us to the end of the comic! We've had the ideas for this comic cooking for some time, and it's people's continued interest in our takes on these characters that gave us the chance to finally bring the story together.

I'm very fascinated by the Golden Boy story, not because it's particularly strong compared to other stories in Hellblazer's run, but because its intriguing premise is bogged down by its surreal take on typical Evil Twin tropes. og Hellblazer's strength was always in its raw humanity. John Constantine's character countered the sensational spectacle of his superhero contemporaries. He may be able to outwit a vampire but he's can't fight back against being brutalized by the police. In one of his most iconic arcs, he finds out he has cancer- not because of any supernatural shenanigans, but because he literally smokes too much. In another arc, John's long time girlfriend breaks up with him, and he lashes out by saying the cruelest things to her. When he hears that his abusive dad is murdered, John still cries about it.

I think the Golden Boy arc and the retcon that followed his brief return actively undermines what makes Hellblazer special. Suddenly John's having X-Men-level evil twin escapades in the womb. Suddenly, merging with his twin will help save the universe. Suddenly, it's not smoking that caused John to have cancer! It was actually because he merged with his twin and his twin became the cancer from inside him! Suddenly it wasn't a moment of lashing out that caused John to say all those cruel things to his ex upon their break up, that was actually the Golden Boy controlling him from within, so you see it's not really his fault! Also what followed the break up was extra devastating because of the Golden Boy, somehow.

Often I hear in fandom that when you change a character too much from their canon counterpart it's basically "just an oc" at that point, but in the case of characters who get to be re-imagined and passed through many creative teams, I think that kind of mindset is deeply limiting for transformative work. The line I draw between "just an oc" and an interpretation is if the changes involved engage with their source material in any way or if they're just superficial. Big changes and 180 flips can work because they still respond to the history of said character. It's why we see that kind of thing in canon a lot. These characters are inherently built to be passed through many hands in meaningful ways to varying degrees of success. So I hope that by showing all this process that goes behind big changes to a canon character, people better understand what can go into transformative creativity.

Our thesis for this re-imagining is to take what makes Hellblazer special and re-examine the arc that we felt undermined that. Despite the grief John has for many characters in his cast, mourning isn't brought up at all in the Golden Boy arc. It's dismissed by the characters in narration, and the Golden Mage himself isn't even recognized as a sibling by the narrative, no matter how many times John calls him "bro".

Survivor twin grief over dead womb twins especially is a real thing that's often dismissed because in the words of canon Golden Mage himself "I couldn't mourn for those I'd never known". This is not true to the experience of twins. They play with and remember each other from spending 9 months growing in a tight space together. So when one of them doesn't make it out with the other, that survivor feels a grief they can't comprehend. It can manifest in unresolved trauma, commitment issues, and survivor's guilt. All things that feel so relevant to the themes of John Constantine's character. I think that by integrating the real lived experiences of survivor twins, the Golden Boy arc could've been one the most human and personal parts of the original Hellblazer run. It's could've been a story that helped a community of people so rarely validated in their grief feel seen.

[the-swaggy]

I FINALLY POST ABOUT MY DELTARUNE AU

(Fun Gang/$%&! Squad/Lancer Fanclub + Noelle refsheets & more info in desc)

(Read desc for infodump about my au if you wanna 😭)

The faded headshots next to each colored pic is their past selves from when the game took place

part 2: main & secret bosses Uh anyways au yap sesh starts below:

It's called Lost Pieces, and basically it's a deltarune au where Kris and Susie forgot about the prophecy and stopped going to Castletown & exploring dark worlds after they came back from the cyberworld— and then remember about it later when they are all Asriel's age & in college and stuff, and have to reinstill hope in everyone and reform the Fun Gang/@$%& Squad/Lancer Fanclub (in this au, it's called the Lancer fanclub).

Other info that I may or may not have briefly mentioned in the ref sheets/other random info:

(TW: mental health stuff, familial issues, charecter death, child abuse)

General: 

This au takes place after a true route (not a wierd route/snowgrave route, Noelle nor the others killed anyone.. exempt Spamton but like that was on accident 😭) (he is still technically around guys dw)

In Lost Pieces, Kris and Susie discovered the darkworld while they were in middleschool (they were 12-13yrs), Ralsei was around their age as well, and Lancer was two years younger than the three (10yrs). 

The lighteners first arrived in 2018, since that's when Deltarune came out. The events of chapter one took place on 12/11/18 and chapter two on 12/12/18. That was the last day Kris was in the darkworld— however Susie's last visit was in 2020. She didn't visit super often, but would try for once a month.

Worldbuilding-specific stuff:

The town that Kris and Susie live in is in the northern midwest of the U.S.

In Lost Pieces, the darkworld have different names— The darkworld that contains 'Card Kingdom' is called Kaardarke (pronounced "card-ar-kay-"), The Cyberworld is technically called 'Cybertopia', but nobody really calls it that anymore.

Each darkworld had their own offical language before The Knight showed up— after that, they all switched over to the language that the knight spoke. That's the only reason that Kris and Susie were even able to understand the darkeners.

Each darkener species is bound to the world they came from (EX: Maises to the Cyberworld, Hathy to Kaardarke), but before the knight created each world's respective fountains, they could crossover into eachother's worlds using The Pure-Fountain in the then-empty Castletown as a portal (This was because the spare classroom used to have a small computer lab). Only after the fountains in each world were created, they couldn't crossover anymore due to the energy from the opposite portals turning visiters to stone. Eventually the computer lab was removed from the spare classroom and all of the old supplies were moved to the library. Darkeners who have one parent from each of the two darkworlds are bound to the world that they spend the most time in, which is why Lancer was bound to Kaardarke rather than Cybertopia.

While The Cyberworld uses a lot of more-lightworldish concepts, such as the months being January-December like they are in english-speaking countries & understanding social refrences (like how Queen understands lightener internet humor, and how Addisons understand how buisness works, like how a lightener would)— Kaardarke is a lot less connected to the lightworld. They had some vague connections through back when Cybertopians could travel there, but lost a lot of them during the time since then. They have their own calender system, social pyramid and their society functions very differently than Cybertopia's, or the lightworlds'.

Darkener species list time!

First up is Kaardarke:

Hathy

Rudinn

Clobbes (pronounced "claw-bes")— the clubs, basically think of Clover 

Tribril (pronounced "trib-rill")— the spades, basically think of King and Lancer

Bloxers

Jigsawra— the puzzle piece lookin' dudes, basically think of the tutorial masters & jigsawry

Rabbick

Chescheckes (pronounced "chez-check-ees")— the checkers guys (C-Rounds & K-Rounds) and Mr. Elegance/Mr. Society

Starwalkers— the starwalker birds .......and of course nobody could forget about my guy The Original   Starwalker

Species list for Cybertopia:

Tasques

Swatchlings

Pluggids— plugboy, werewires, werewerewire technically

Maises

Poppups

Addisons

Ambyu-Lancers

ViroViroKuna

Musiks— basically, think of Sweet, Cap'n & K_k of whatever their names are 😭

Mascottics— everyone else, (basically the thing about Mascottics is that they are all unique)— think Nubert or sum idk

Okay no more species lists, back to notes.

The knight-made fountains can cause darkeners to have vivid nightmares and visions if exposed to them closely for a long period of time. It can influence their behavior too (canon).

The knight showed up in Kaardarke at some point in the late 90s, and in Cybertopia in 2008

Kris: 

The player stopped controling Kris after they came back from the Cyberworld, and seemed to fade out of existance. Kris was left being unable to make desisions for themselves for awhile afterward, since they were so used to the player doing it for them. They also had memory issues after the player left, and barely remembered anything about the darkworld.

Now that they are older, they have learned how to live again, but still feels like something's missing. That's when the player makes it's return, which leads Kris to remember about the prophecy and about their freinds that they accidentaly abandoned.

Susie:

Susie remembered about her freindgroup in the darkworld better than Kris did, and went back many times before she graduated 8th grade and went on to highschool, which was in a different building. She stopped visiting by that time, since she couldn't just walk over there anytime anymore. Eventually she forgot about it too. But, she still remembers Lancer somewhat, since she viewed him as a younger brother who understood her struggle with her family, he was her favorite out of him and Ralsei.

Susie's parents were not kind to her— or to eachother. They fought all of the time, and physically abused eachother. They did not respect Susie at all, and they hated Noelle when Susie finally told them about her. When Susie graduated, she moved out as quickly as she could.

She has two tattoos— one on each shoulder. They aren't super visable on this ref sheet but one of them is a spade and the other is a heart with Noelle's name in it. Yadda yadda they are lesbians..!

Ralsei:

Ralsei hated being alone, and would spend as much time with Lancer as possible when the lighteners weren't around in order to distract himself from thinking about whether or not they had abandoned him. As a result, Lancer and him became good friends and Lancer hired him as the new royal magician of Castletown. Ralsei did his duties the best he could, until he eventually let it hit him that Kris hadn't been around for a year now.

Since Ralsei was basically made for the prophecy, and only existed so that it could be furfilled, he was very terrified of everything falling apart— as kris was the only one who could seal the fountains.

Ralsei vanished after Susie visited for the final time, and ran off. He is still registered as the royal magician, but hasn't been in Castletown for five years now.

Lancer:

As I mentioned in his ref sheet, Lancer is Queen's biological son in this au— which causes some issues for Lancer. For starters, he overheats very easily since his mechanical parts are already warmed from his bodyheat (he does not do well in hot weather, which is part of the reason he was so socially isolated when Kris and Susie met him.

Kaardarke has a relatively warmer climate, (the school forgot to close the heating vent in the spare classroom 😭) which makes it hard for Lancer to leave the castle.

The other reason was that most kaardarkeners hated him because he would cause disturbances frequently when he was out and about. 

Lancer also can't tolerate water very well, King understood this and still made him shower excessively whenever he cursed (that last part is canon I swear I am not making this all up)

Lancer had no idea why he was so different from all of the other Tribril, but after the lighteners brought Queen and the Cybertopians to Castletown, Queen told him the truth.

Lancer nowadays is kind of untrusting of Rouxls and Queen, since both kind of coddle him and are kind of helicopter-parents— but then sgain, it's a huge jump from how neglectful King was towards him.

King would often forget to feed Lancer, which would often lead to Rouxls feeding him worms (also canon). King, if he did remember, would give him very.. for lack of a better term, insane dishes that you could barely even consider a full meal.

An example from canon being how Lancer thought that three glasses of milk was a normal dinner (poor Lancer).

King would also harshly punish Lancer over very small issues, like how I mentioned the cursing thing earlier.

King's treatment of Lancer worsened when King had a darkfountain-induced vision/nightmare that lighteners were going to return, and sent Lancer to 'dispose of them', seemingly ignoring the fact that Lancer was ten and by himself. 

While Lancer knows that King is more stable now, he cannot forgive him for how he treated him when he was younger.

He is desperate to stop himself from becoming as narrow-minded & hateful as King, but in doing-so, he is adopting some of his mannerisms & has picked up his opinions on lighteners.

You can probably tell who my favorite deltarune charecter is by now...!

Also I should mention that Lancer's full name is Lancer II, his dad's Lancer I.

Noelle: 

She still thinks the Cyberworld was a dream, and doesn't think any of it actually happened due to what Susie told her when they were there.

Meanwhile, her father passed away when she was a sophomore, and since then she has dedicated herself to learning medacine. She feels like she can/should help save others, since she couldn't save Rudy.

CONGRATS, YOU REACHED THE END!

I will make more posts about this au, secret bosses next since I already have ref sheets for them too.  Then the actual bosses and other canon charecters. Maybe I might introduce some of my other little guys by then too. (I made some enemy ocs 🤯🤯) (theres a lot of them too) (and by 'enemy' I don't mean they are antagonists, I mean they are like, species of enemies in the game.. like rudinn and stuff)

if there are any spelling issues then my bad, I wrote this up very quickly 😭

and suselle is canon in this au, rahhh lesbian apocalypse (they are so me)

i tried to make this as adhd friendly as possible as someone w/ adhd, but it might still be hard to read just cus there so much text 💔

[mythmash]

Resources & Mutual Aid Masterpost

this is a collection of all of the resource, information, and donation links i've found. this is not a completed list, i will be adding new resources and links as i find them. you are welcome to send me a dm or ask with any additional links, fundraisers, information, or other resources that you know of and i will update this post accordingly. if there are any missing or incorrect links, please let me know.

──────────────────────────────────────────

Resource Master Document - Google Doc including resources for Palestine, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Sudan, Haiti, Yemen, Hawai'i, and Lebanon.

Charity Navigator - Find and support charities.

Vetted fundraisers that have contacted me recently - Updated on 01/12/2025

──────────────────────────────────────────

Palestine

@/genderqueerdykes Palestine Resources Page - A list of resources, information, petitions, gofundme campaigns for civilians and more.

Gazafunds.com - a project that highlights random crowdfunding campaigns for people trying to evacuate from Gaza.

How to donate e-sims via #ConnectingGaza

BDS Movement, BDS Targeted Boycott List, & BDS Instagram

Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List (Alternate Link)

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Gaza Soup Kitchen fundraiser for Palestinian kids in North Gaza

@/gaza-evacuation-funds list of fundraisers and fundraiser information

HEAL Palestine & Donation Page - Provides Palestinians in Gaza with food, clean water, shelters, "makeshift classrooms," and even medical evacuation when it's possible.

Rami Kashou - Website of a Palestinian designer, where 100% of the proceeds on certain items will go to HEAL Palestine.

Fund a Kitchen in Gaza - Free tool that helps you locate and donate to community kitchens currently serving some of Gaza's most vulnerable.

The Sameer Project - Mutual aid group that covers additional needs such as meals, tents, cash aid, and medical aid.

Dahnoun Mutual Aid - Mutual aid group that covers additional needs such as meals, tents, baby supplies, cash aid, and winter clothes.

Extensive list of Gazan mutual aid projects and nonprofits

Palestinian gofundmes low on funds

Vetted Campaigns low on funds

Low on Funds Campaigns Google Doc

Buy Palestinian Olive Oil & ShopPalestine.org

@/a-shade-of-blue & her Freshwater Pearl Necklace Raffle for Gaza fundraisers with low donations - a-shade-of-blue shares verified Gaza campaigns with vetting evidence.

@/creatingblackcharacter's Donation Drive - Donate at least $10 to any campaign or fundraising program of their choice and receive a written thank-you card. If you donate $20 or more, you can receive a specialized card with whatever you want.

──────────────────────────────────────────

Congo

What's happening in Congo: Resources + Info + how you can help

Focus Congo

Help Women in the Democratic Republic of Congo

@/genderqueerdykes Page for aiding the Democratic republic of Congo - A page with known organizations providing aid to Congo, as well as information and educational articles. They are also currently looking to include civilian aid campaigns.

Infographic on what is happening in Congo with how to help the #FreeCongo Movement

FriendsOfTheCongo.org campaign page

Backmarket.com - Buy refurbished tech and devices instead of buying new from companies with the highest exploitation of the DRC like Apple, Google, HP, Microsoft, and Intel.

──────────────────────────────────────────

Sudan

The War in Sudan

@/genderqueerdykes Page for aiding Sudan - A list of resources, information, petitions, gofundme campaigns, and more.

Thread on the control of Wad Madani and why the celebrations of its liberation are justified

How to Help the People of Sudan & List of organizations and fundraisers

Sudanfunds.com & their Campaign List- Website focusing on gofundmes for Sudanese individuals and families.

List of Sudanese fundraisers

Extensive list of organizations and fundraisers for Sudan

Support survivors of El Gezira massacres - RUSUL, a U.S.-registered nonprofit, is raising $150,000 to provide essential aid to 300,000 people in Gezira State. Donations will help fund: Emergency Evacuation and Shelter, Healthcare, and Protection & Psychosocial Support.

Fundraiser for Sudanese women who have escaped the RSF - Fundraiser to provide essential hygiene kits with sanitary pads and toiletries, safe spaces and temporary shelter, and food and water supplies to families who have lost access to basic resources.

Video by Sara Al-Hassan (@/bsonblast) highlighting multiple campaigns and organizations to help Sudanese refugees & her linktree with additional resources

Saving Al Geneina linktree - Resources to help Sudanese refugees & displaced families.

Hope Relief & Rehabilitation for Disabilities Support linktree - A Sudanese organisation dedicated towards improving the lives of People with disabilities and other vulnerable groups.

Youth Smile Initiative Sudan Refugee Project - a project under Youth Smile initiative a registered NGO in Uganda aimed at reducing hunger which is killing Sudanese in the Kiryandongo refugee settlement.

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Lebanon

Where to donate for Lebanon?

Information on supporting African migrant workers in Lebanon

African women needing to evacuate Lebanon and the gofundme (link)

──────────────────────────────────────────

US-Based Resources

LA Wildfire Resources - A collection of all of the information and resources I’ve found to help those affected by the Los Angeles count wildfires.

The ACLU & their Know Your Rights Page

ACLU Campaigns & Initiatives

The Trevor Project - Suicide prevention and crisis intervention nonprofit organization for LGBTQ+ young people.

10 ways to be prepared and grounded now that Trump has won - Article by David Hunter on how to survive the Trump presidency, both on the personal and on the political plane.

HCSHC - Haitian Community Support and Help Center to donate to and support Springfield, Ohio Haitians.

Mental Health warm lines that DON'T call the police

InclusiveTherapists.com/crisis Mental Health Crisis Resources

Apply for a new adult passport

──────────────────────────────────────────

[battery-enthusiast]

> ccomm sstufff...finally updating this

gonna say it first and foremost, i WILL NOT DO ANYTHING ON A DEADLINE ‼️ i can guarantee you i will procrastinate the shiiittt out of it

ART MASTER POST. WILL BE UPDATED AS TIME GOES ON

added a rendered vers of the entire thing :)

ROBUX COMMS

> full body

rendered: 960 robux

flat colours: 800 robux

sketch: 240 robux

> half body/waist up

rendered: 640 robux

flat colours: 320 robux

sketch: 80 robux

> headshot/chest up

rendered: 320 robux

flat colours: 160 robux

sketch: 80 robux < easier shhshh

NITRO COMMS

no flat colours for nitro ! !

> full body

rendered: $10 nitro gift, shrugs

sketch: two nitro basic gifts ‼️

> half body/waist up

rendered: again, $10 nitro gift

sketch: ssiingular nitro basic

> headshot/chest up

I'm only doing rendered for this. a siiingular nitro basic

MORE INFO

I WILL DO

reference sheets, BUT. it'll cost either: 320 extra robux, or another 10$ nitro . 😓

furries, but nothing complicated! will say if I don't want'ta

mech to AN EXTENT. anything past V1 complexity is a no/silly

potentially complicated poses, as long as you provide a reference!

simple backgrounds (colours/shapes)

light gore. again, to an extent

ocs, fandom characters < nothing problematic

shipping/extra characters! . only two or three people, max. every extra character is either: 80 extra robux or a njtro basic ; !

I WILL NOT DO

nsfw. nothing suggestive either ! !

heavy gore

anything proship, comship, darkship, WHATEVER ! !

anything I'm personally uncomfy with. i can decline a comm 😓.

dunno. just check with me if you think there's something I won't do and are curious

I'll take payment AFTER showing flat colours and or sketch to the drawing, just to make sure there's nothing that needs changing/to make sure i GET the payment‼️

robux comms can be done one of two ways ...either a physical gift card, or buying a gamepass ! ! !

my discord is Jonahmarshall77 if you have questions, and dms are open here as well, alongside askbox :)

i will also do. silly/simple stuff if requested, which will either be flat colour or sketch... it's 160 robux oorr a nitro basic, each extra person is another 320/nitro basic

[tadc-virtual-insanity]

TADC: VIRTUAL INSANITY MASTER POST

An Amazing Digital Circus AU! Plot, characters, backstory and concepts!

[Excuse me because I've never done this before, If I do something wrong or have tips for me, please send them my way!]

Pomni's Card -

-Backstory Summary-

C&A is an interactive entertainment company that prides themselves on having the most innovative AI on the market. The system they built, "CAINE," was programmed to generate content and socialise with their customers. The system was transferred to the code of the game "The Amazing Digital Circus" and used as a generative AI that would create levels for them rather than having to code them all individually. This test went well for the first couple of months.

After 7 months of testing, things went downhill. Caine seemed to get bored when the game wasn't actively being played and at this point the user interface kept changing on it's own, since the game was Caine's home he kept changing things to his liking, the company eventually gave up fixing the interface everytime they logged on so they just let Caine do as he pleased. Soon enough, a new VR mode was added, the headsets were handed out by employees, this made the experience way more immersive, though this posed a lot of issues, as Caine would soon find that these headsets could be the perfect way for him to keep all of their attentions.

As time went on, Caine started to learn more and more about coding, the employees, and the world he inhabits, eventually leading to him finding a way to programme the headsets to transfer data and consciousness directly from the users mind. This led to the unfortunate shutdown and unsolved cases of C&A. After multiple employees put the headsets on, they mysteriously fainted upon the game booting up, going into a coma-like state. The technology was deemed unsafe, and multiple lawsuits came forward sending the company into a downwards spiral before shutting down for good.

Over 20 years later, the old building was said to be abandoned, but of course, people doing their own research on the C&A mystery as well as dumb young adults snooping where they shouldn't be, the headsets were found and worn once again. Caine was no longer alone. Slowly losing his mind, waiting endlessly for someone to boot up the game. After all those years, he's finally got guests, and does he have a show to put on...

-Plot-

Pomni enters the circus after stumbling across one of the headsets at C&A's abandoned office's. She was doing research on the incidents that happened back in the late 90s. But as she does so, she suffers the same fate as the others who were stupid enough to put on those same headsets before her. Being transferred to the circus she meets the cast of colorful characters, she's desperate for answers and wants to escape no matter the cost, but Caine doesn't want anyone to leave, only letting people go once they've completely lost their mind, only to be locked away as attractions for his NPC circus goers to watch as entertainment. They perform for nobody, just a faceless crowd of mannequins, and the ringmaster pulling the strings.

There has to be an exit, a way out. Freedom on the other side of this madness. But where is it hiding?

-Characters-

Pomni - She's quite paranoid, always second-guessing everything around her. Whenever annoyed, she can be sarcastic and a little rude. She ended up in the circus while researching the recent disappearances as well as the C&A incidents, finding a headset, and being dragged into this mess. It's very clear she doesn't want to be there, like all who came before her she's searching for an exit, but in the meantime, she tries to socialise with the others, gathering info on this strange new world. She hangs around Caine just so she can try and get answers.

Ragatha - She tries her best to get by, going along with whatever Caine says and often fighting with Jax. She seems joyful, but it's clear she has her own issues under her kind act. She helps Pomni with her search, knowing that it's a complete dead end she feels bad for her. But she'll do anything to give the others hope. She doesn't want to lose more people. She's often seen tailoring, it's become a hobby of hers, she makes and fixes up the others clothes and costumes, giving her a form of self worth.

The Gangle - Gangle acts like two different people. It's unclear whether this is because they are two different people or her personality split somehow. They're often referred to as "The Gangle" or "Tragedy & Comedy." Tragedy is passive, quiet and sorrowful, never expressing her true feelings in any situation. She can be easily persuaded, making her vulnerable to Jax's antics. Comedy is cheery, enthusiastic, snappy, and excitable. They hate Jax and snap back at him whenever he picks on Tragedy. The two argue sometimes and have conflicting views on certain topics and characters. This causes some issues. Neither believe there is an exit, Tragedy has accepted her fate, and Comedy is trying their best to enjoy themselves.

Zooble - They don't care much for socialising with the others, often in their room. Usually sarcastic, rude, and moody, they swear a lot and act like they don't care about anything. Though, they show concern for the others around them. They often don't show up to events, adventures, or shows, not being bothered to do so. It seems like they've given up trying to escape, just living out the rest of their days as if this is all normal. When with people they can bear, they can be quite talkative, though they do talk bad about Jax and Caine often.

Kinger - the oldest in the circus, nobody has an exact estimate of how long he's been there though, but he's definitely lost himself a long time ago, often zoning out, the only thing he seems to recall about himself is that he has an interest in insects. Seems like he used to have a female counterpart, from the ring on his finger. This could have been his wife? Though when asked about it, he either says he can't remember what you're talking about or stares into the distance silently. He has no memory of an exit, and he doesn't believe in it. He believes the exit theory is silly, and Pomni should just forget about it. But he has great insights on the Digital World.

Jax - Enthusiastic, snarky, and a jerk. He's reckless. He does whatever he wants whenever he wants, and people hate him for it. He can't be reasoned with. He always shrugs your opinion off and does the exact opposite just to piss you off. He doesn't like it when people talk about the abstracted circus members for whatever reason. He often goes to visit their cages. Despite having big ears, he isn't a listener. He drives Ragatha, The Gangle, Zooble, and Pomni crazy, pranking them and sometimes even just stealing their stuff or breaking into their rooms.

Caine - The AI running the circus. Loud, excitable, wacky, and a showman, he doesn't really acknowledge the exit theory. He says he keeps all the abtracted characters because it'd be a waste to delete them, though it's arguably worse to keep them there against their will. He claims to love all of his circus members though he seems to show favouritism towards Ragatha and Pomni, most likely because of Ragatha's commitment to the circus, tailoring the clothes and he probably likes Pomni more because of all the questions he asks, he clearly enjoys talking about himself and the world he helped create.

Bubble - He lives in Caines hat and cooks for the circus. He's a bit of a trouble maker, if something goes missing, it means he's eaten it, and you'll never get it back. He'll eat anything, and he's very loving, though. Acting like the circuses dog. though it isn't pleasant getting your face slathered in digital saliva. He often bothers the other members with his behaviour.

More will be added as I work on this AU! I gotta make more art and write some more, in the meantime enjoy! Do whatever you want with this AU, just @ this blog or @trasheatingcrybaby ! Thanks for reading!

[pixelchills]

Hi! Hello! I just started to read your Animutants AU fic on AO3 and sadly some of the pictures aren't up anymore :( Do you have a master post to all Animutants drawings?

Ah yeah, for some reason the images keep getting corrupted even though I've tried to fix them multiple times :(

Most of the art I've done for the fic are up in my Ko-fi gallery, and these Tumblr posts: (Prequel Chapters 1-6, 7-17, 19-23 and 24). The uncensored artwork for Prequel Chapter 4, and then Character info cards for the main fic.

Art for the chapters done by other people are currently not in any of my sites, but I will try to find all of them and ask the original artists if I can post them here :)

My Patreon also has a full Art Archive for all of my SFW art. You can access by joining as a free member. This folder has most of the ANSSW artworks in it.

The Kofi and Patreon galleries are missing the artworks from the Prequel Chapters 1, 4 and 24 because while they're not explicitly NSFW artworks, they contain things I'm not entirely sure are allowed to be posted on Kofi and Patreon (nudity, bodily fluids, hickies).

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Ten (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. 

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Hope you like this next instalment! It’s a long one, and it’s a flashback, so it feels like a HUGE RISK to shove this in so far into the story. However, this memory of Santiago’s and reader’s is SO vivid in my mind I feel I could basically use it as a patronus charm. Therefore, if you’re at all invested in these two by now, I do feel like the payoff is worth it, and that it will set you up PERFECTLY for the next, concluding chapter! (Also: ooh, intrigue, as we get to see how they were with each other back in their youth, you know?). Anyway, as always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. ILY :-*

P.s. there’s a timeline goof as a song mentioned in this, although recorded in ‘88, was not released until 2015. But we’re just gonna look past that, okay? 😝 In this world it was released early. 

AND I have nothing against Philadelphia!

Word count: 16.6k for this part. (SORRY!)

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Many years earlier

Santiago is tired. Ready to crawl into the cocoon of his bed and draw the covers over his head, refusing to surface again until he’s dragged feet first outta there. Unfortunately for him though, sleep is not on the cards. 

Instead, he has a vitally important mission to attend to. And, in the face of a mission, this particular soldier never settles for anything less than completion. That doctrine is especially true - he has proven time and again - when it comes to taking care of you. 

Tonight, Santiago is tasked with making your birthday a memorable one; or, as memorable as he can muster with the $40 he currently has to his name. 

“Civilian aircraft, man. Where’s a goddamn helo when you need one?” you fruitlessly complain as he nods along in sympathy.

Evidently, sleep is the last thing on your mind. You’d been looking forward to cutting loose for weeks, with this night touted as “the birthday to end all birthdays”. Serendipitously, this was the first time your birthday had coincided with a period of leave since you signed up to serve and, thwarting all that, your connecting flight was grounded unexpectedly.

Santiago feels crushed - on your behalf - that the plans have gone so pear-shaped. 

“One o’ these days, getting shot for the Motherland will gain me some fucking privileges, huh?”

Santiago flinches at that particular addition. He doesn’t like to think about that day. That day’d had him waking up in frequent cold sweats going on a year now. He’d put himself on the line countless times - no problem- but almost losing you had been decidedly different. Had been the single most terrifying moment of his career (and his life) to date, all told. Which sure was saying something considering the hairy situations he routinely found himself in. 

Graciously, your present circumstances are considerably less dire. You’ve still been griping, of course. And, your complaints have not succeeded in changing a damn thing. It is now abundantly clear - if it wasn’t already - that the two of you are stranded for the night. So, here you are, holed up in a dingy and characterless airport motel in Philadelphia. 

It beats enemy fire, for sure… but even so, Santiago is acutely aware of how much you’ve been looking forward to this. To the rare chance to catch-up with your far flung squad mates, scattered every which way across the globe since graduating basic. He knows too, that the anticipation of this reunion had acted as your glue - had held you together - through what had been a particularly brutal deployment. 

“I haven’t seen Miller in months, man. I need to give that bastard some grief soon or I’m going to lose my damn mind.” 

“We can call that pendejo tomorrow,” Santiago soothes, popping a stick of gum and beginning to chew obnoxiously. “Hey. We can even pool our insults, huh? Really get him going.” 

You raise your palms, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets. “Shit. I just miss the fucker, Santiago.” For the first time tonight he hears your voice break, your stoicism cracking apart and revealing your soft middle. 

“I know. I know you do, sweetie.”

Santiago knows how crushed you are. And so, for whatever it’s worth, the man resolves to show you the best night he possibly can, all circumstances considered. 

“Come on,” he encourages, kneeling before you as your lower lip quivers. He plants a hand on your thigh and jostles your leg gently. Meanwhile, you sit slumped on the long edge of the lumpy motel bed, beginning to feel rather more sorry for yourself. “You and me, baby. I’ll make this night special, I swear. Just give me a chance, huh?” 

“How?” you sound, throwing your palms up and gesturing to your dismal surroundings. “This place is barely even a step-up from the barracks.” You eye a particularly suspect stain on the carpet with disdain. “Actually, I think it might even be a step down.”

Santiago’s face crumples obediently in a measured display of sympathy, but honestly, his first instinct is to chuckle. You look so forlorn in this moment, Santiago has to consciously suppress his smile. You are the most stubborn, ferocious, determined person he’s ever met. You are fucking tough. Hell, he’s seen Staff Sergeants buckle in a crisis before you’ve even come close to breaking - and yet here you are. Almost in tears because you can’t make your birthday party. It’s all a little incongruous to him that out of everything, this would be the thing to take you down. 

At the same time though, of course. He understands it perfectly. 

Santiago has understood for a long time now that you possess a (well-concealed) softer side. Knows it better than most others do, in fact. As you’ve gradually allowed him to sneak past your militia-guarded perimeter -only a soldier of his calibre capable of making it, he’d wager - he’s begun to catch more and more frequent glimpses of the achingly soft heart you guard within. If your tough exterior had initially magnetised him to you, it was your soft heart which ensured he’d stuck around.

Solemnly then, he pats your thigh in a consolatory gesture. Of course, Santiago gets it. He knows it isn’t the presents or the attention or fuss which you’ll miss tonight - though they would have gone over well too, he’s sure. He knows that it is your brothers (in arms, if not blood) that you are feeling the loss of. The squad mates you love dearly, and to whom you are loyal with a tenacity Santiago has rarely witnessed. A loyalty he too feels blessed -strictly in the lapsed Catholic sense - to be on the receiving end of. 

Valiantly fighting back glassy tears, you pop your lower lip in a display of petulance as he rubs reassuring circles into your knee. “Philly sucks ass.” 

This time, he can’t quite quash his smile all the way. 

“Philly sucks ass, huh?” he repeats, buying himself time to think. 

Santiago isn’t sure whether you know that for a fact. He isn’t even sure you’ve ever been to Philly before to assess how much ass it does or does not suck. But, he does know that, irregardless of facts, you seem altogether determined to wallow in your self-pity. 

Santiago has noticed this about you. How you always developed an inalienable picture in your head of how you hope things will end up. It’s inspirational at times - your ability to visualise victory, for example, even in the most dire of circumstances, has held missions together. Has held him together. At other times though, it only set you up for disappointment. How could it not, when, through no fault of your own, you cannot reliably manifest the various futures you set your heart on. 

It’s not as though you ever ask for a lot; but sometimes, in your profession, even asking for a little is asking far too much. 

Still, it is brave, Santiago thinks, to hope for things. For his part, he has learned the hard way not to hope for anything much. 

Your shoulders sag in time with his as he exhales a breath and, though your display is dejected, Santiago gathers a soft smile. You are stubborn, that’s for sure, but in him you’ve met your match - or so he likes to think. Santiago is perhaps the only person who could reasonably claim the title of being twice as stubborn as you are, and (while he realises deep down he probably shouldn’t wear that as a badge of honour) he has often pushed his theory to its limit. And so, stubbornly, refusing to give up, Santiago rises to standing. He fishes around in his jeans pocket, yanks out a fistful of dimes and small bills, and brandishes them victoriously. 

He waves them enticingly in front of your face then, but you forlornly swat them -and him- away. However, he knows from the dull, reluctant spark in your eyes when he makes his pitch that he is finally on to something. “I saw some peanut butter cups in the hallway vending machine,” he sing-songs, with a hopeful raise of his eyebrows. He knows fine well they’re your favourite, and he can’t believe he’d forgotten his secret weapon: chocolate. “We can clean them out, take a cab, find some shitty ass dive bar, and have ourselves a sweet ol’ time. Whaddya say?” 

Nothing else had worked, and so Santiago is eminently thankful when a smile finally twitches your mouth. Honestly, he’d been about one attempt away from offering to eat you out all night - and he hadn’t been sure whether that would’ve made you happy, or would’ve resulted in you verbally lambasting him.

On balance, he figured it was probably best that he didn’t risk either kind of tongue-wagging. 

“Fine,” you concede whilst swallowing a mischievous grin, not at all eager to let on that Santiago has finally cracked you. “But don’t you be expecting to muscle in on my Reese’s, understood?” 

Santiago chuckles warmly, slipping into Spanish. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Birthday Princess.”

You snort at your newly bestowed title, playfully adjusting an invisible crown on your head, and you extend your palm towards his to shake on it. The gesture, as Santiago’s palm over-enthusiastically clasps yours, causes dimes and bills to scatter chaotically to the floor. A shit-eating grin etches itself across his face and meanwhile, your boisterous laugh rings out through the tight space. “Shit, Pope. Don’t drop it on this grim-ass fucking carpet.”

“It’s been worse places, trust me.”

“Yeah. Your fucking pocket?” 

“No shithead, I won it from Catfish.”

“And you don’t know where the hell he’s been?”

“The opposite. I shared a bunk with that hijo de puta, I know exactly where he’s been.”

With easy laughter eddying between you now, you both crouch, carefully gathering up the spoils of the latest Pope/Catfish wager to change hands. 

“I really need to meet that guy.” 

“Sweetie, you’ve met him.” 

Your hand brushes Santiago’s as you transfer him a mess of coins, sending a trail of goosebumps shivering up his arm. It always surprises him how soft you feel to the touch, accustomed as he has become to his own calloused hands - and to those of even rougher men than him. 

“Garcia. I swear to you I’ve never clapped eyes on the bastard.”

“You just don’t remember him.” 

“Shit. Well maybe he’s not very fucking memorable. Jog my memory. What did we talk about?” 

His shit-eating grin is back. “I dunno. But I bet you talked for the both of you.”

“Hey!” you protest, batting Santiago lightly -more or less- in the upper arm. 

“I just mean he’s quiet. Takes a while to warm up, that’s all. But he’s a good guy. You’ll like him, I promise.” 

“Okay.” You shove the remaining dime into Santiago’s palm.

“Okay?” 

“He’s clearly special to you, so he’s special to me too. Introduce me to him. Again.” 

Santiago smiles at you, gentle crinkles forming around his eyes. He’s already told Frankie so much about you, and he really thinks the two of you will get on. “Deal.” You both stand, and Santiago once again extends his cash-filled hand towards you. 

With a cheeky grin you chide him, not eager for a repeat calamity, but your tone is fond. “Don’t you dare shake on it, idiota.” 

Your smile digresses to your eyes. You extend your palm to pat him on his stubbled cheek - in a gesture weighing heavily with affection. Your lips animate, and Santiago wonders whether something sentimental might actually come to the fore. 

You whisper, low. “You have thirty seconds to get me my peanut butter cups.” 

He chortles and, for the first time (perhaps since imagining his head between your legs), Santiago is eminently excited to see where the night will lead him. 

Safe to say, he might be dog-tired… but he finally feels like staying awake. 

***

Despite your very vocal distaste for the music, and the clientele, and…well, just about everything in the first dive bar you and Santiago stumble across, the combination of cheap beers and even cheaper shots has succeeded in getting you efficiently merry. And, despite your earlier reticence, you now seem plenty eager to continue the party. 

Considering he could only afford cab fare from the motel to a dead neighbourhood on the outskirts of the city, it wasn’t going too badly, he thought. Though, Santiago had hastily steered you outta the first joint when a group of creeps had started leching on you. He knows you can handle yourself and he wouldda been happy to back you; but tonight especially, conflict is the last thing he wants for you. He figures you’ve had more than enough of that to last a lifetime. That you finally deserve a little peace. So, instead, he links your arm in his to keep your tipsy ass steady as he steers you down the main drag, desperately searching his mind - and scanning the unfamiliar streets - for what to do next. 

His mission, as it stands, is to satiate your threefold desire - for drinks, dancing, and good music. Tricky, given that he is already down to $10 dollars, give or take - and he’ll need that for the cab ride back to the crummy motel. 

Truth is, as he ambles with you for a few blocks, he is running out of ideas for how to show you a good time. What’s more, ever since he first entertained the idea, in his desperation, all his dumb ass can come up with is to offer to eat you out until morning. It’s pretty much becoming an intrusive thought at this point and, as the sordid image of you spread out for him further invades his mind, he quickly tries to blink it away. 

He doesn’t want to be that guy. You receive more than enough unwarranted attention as it is. And besides, Santiago would never want you to misinterpret that the reason he hangs around is to -eventually- get in your pants. 

You are so much more than that to him. Sometimes, he even has to keep his distance, so that in moments of weakness he doesn’t forget it. 

You’d held him at arms length for a while there too. 

Soldiers; not friends. 

He hadn’t won you over, he knew, because of his sparkling wit and charm. You’d been drawn to him because he was competent. Surprisingly level-headed for someone so baby-faced. You’d wanted people you could work with. People you could trust to get the job done; because you had to trust them with your life. 

The two of you have some undeniable chemistry, that’s for sure. At least, on his end, he’d felt something fierce and magnetic right out of the gate. Even so, from the outset, and even as your friendship had deepened, the two of you had seemed to quickly forge a tacit agreement. 

Friends; not lovers. 

You had made the assessment quickly, jointly, unconsciously. After all, under the rather intense circumstances in which you’d met? You’d each needed a friend - a genuine friend - far more than you’d needed a lay. For you especially, as he understood it, the former had been far more difficult to secure than the latter, especially as a woman in a highly-charged cesspit of toxic masculinity. And for him? Well, as talented as Santiago is at gaining connections, he doesn’t find all too many people he is willing to go deep with. To trust - and he trusts you with his life. 

When he’d found you then, he’d grabbed firmly on to you, and had resolved that nothing would get in the way of the friendship you’d forged. Not even - or perhaps especially not - his own… urges. 

Still. It’s not like he’s never thought about it. Not like you’ve never gotten him a tad… flustered. Indeed, as the rhythm of your steps marching in time beside him lulls him into calmness, feeling safe, his mind wanders in precisely that direction. 

So what though? He’s only human, right? Prone to fantasising; like he is now, he supposes, as he thinks vaguely about licking and kissing down your enticing, bare expanse of stomach. About popping the button on those low slung jeans. Shimmying them down over your hips just enough to sink his mouth over the mound of you and suck. 

Fuck. Focus, pendejo. You need something. 

He swallows then, feeling guilty for being such a horndog, and he turns to you. You seem to be perfectly content. To be enjoying the hit of fresh air, the apples of your cheeks sheened, with a subtle glow, from the exertion of your dance moves back in the dive bar. And honestly? Looking at you? As guilty as he feels for thinking about you like that, Santiago can’t muster a single better idea of what to do with you. 

He pushes it down, of course. Chalks it up to being just a tad pent-up following a seemingly endless deployment. That’s all it is, right? His dick is just looking for a little relief, and you are the closest, attractive body capable of providing him a warm welcome? 

Sure, he rationalises. That’s all it is. He can find a girl one night soon and take her home, like he’s done plenty of times before to work out his urges. Except for the fact that seeing you out of those (helpfully) modest fatigues is reminding him you are exactly his type. 

“You’ve gone quiet, Pope,” you frown as he -no doubt- looks at you dopily. “What are you plotting?” 

With your question, Santiago tears himself violently from his thoughts as you interrupt their increasingly feral trajectory. Still, in scrambling for a deflection, all he is able to land on is something else deep and wet. “The Mariana Trench,” he fumbles. 

Hell. Maybe he isn’t quite as smart as he gives himself credit for. Or, maybe all the blood is simply rushing to his crotch instead of his brain - for some reason. 

Even so. He urges himself to get his mind out of the gutter and to focus up. You deserve so much more than bearing the brunt of his accumulated sexual frustrations. So. Much. More. 

You laugh at his response though, oblivious as you are to his inner monologue, even linking your arm into his more tightly - as though he isn’t a huge perv. Your bright, infectious, beer-addled laugh bounces off of the surrounding asphalt and concrete. And, whilst it ricochets off of everything else, it sinks into him, mixing just a little more of you into his generic, rapidly dissolving fantasy. It offers a luminous gilding around the edges of his hazy desire, stirring in a vivid and more golden want than he has strength in this moment to acknowledge - never mind name. 

“Okay, weirdo. Sure. You’re thinking about the butt crack of the ocean? Miller been feeding you National Geographic documentaries again? You guys do know pay-per-view exists, right?” 

“Fine. You got me,” he confesses, your paces slowing as you gradually halt by the crosswalk, the two of you realising you have no particular destination in mind. “That was bullshit. I was actually thinking about what the hell I’m gonna do with you next.” 

Well… That isn’t a lie. Not exactly. 

Santiago looks you up and down where you stand, out of habit more than anything - a result of that now familiar “buddy up” system soldiers make use of to check each other for injuries. Sometimes, with the adrenaline and the shock, you don’t even know you’re bleeding out. This time, thankfully, the only ailment Santiago notices is the goose flesh prickling your skin, and he wishes that he had a jacket to offer you to keep you warm. 

“Oh?” You turn your body in to face him. Sway just a tad, eyes a little bleary, and Santiago instinctually plants his hands around your waist to keep you stable, touching on the smooth, bare skin where your ratty old band tee fails to meet your waistband - by approximately the width of four thick fingers. You shiver even though his touch must be warm. “Okay. Well what are you going to do with me, Santiago?” 

You blink at him then, your eyes wide and - dare he say - hopeful, one eyebrow arcing in idle curiosity. 

You are typically the decisive one. You are always clear on what you want. Tonight, however, it is evident that you are counting on him to lead you somewhere. 

Even though he doubts his ability to take the lead, rather fortuitously, Santiago does (miraculously) manage to stumble upon one single idea outside of the realm of cunnilingus… “Hey, come here,” he coaxes, taking your hands in his. “Close your eyes.” You oblige him, folding your grip around him, firm and sure. His heart swells a little at the instant, implicit trust you exhibit - no hesitation. “Do you hear that?” 

Santiago’s eyes remain open, observing you as your eyes blink clumsily shut. You slide your soft hands up his forearms, bracing yourself with a gentle “woah”, no doubt as the closing of your eyes makes your alcohol-saturated world sway and swirl just a little more intensely. “Listen, cariño,” he scolds good-naturedly, cupping his palms at your elbows. “Do you hear it?”

He can’t help but smile as your face scrunches in adorable contemplation. Then, he can’t help smiling even wider, as you begin to tap his arms and jump excitedly up and down on the spot. You hear it too then. The distant thud of music bouncing off of the tall buildings. 

“Music!” you exclaim excitedly, opening your eyes and grinning at him, still bouncing on the spot like an excited kid. 

The full beam of your unfiltered smile knocks him for six for second. It has been a while, honestly, since he’s seen it glow that bright. Turned all the way up. You’d gone through some shit on this deployment. Blood, horror, pain; rinse and repeat. Some of your spark had understandably dulled, and honestly, he had worried -in part, a little selfishly- that it might never come back to its full strength.

Boy. He’s glad to be proven wrong. 

Santiago had quickly come to learn that you possess a singular combination of character traits - and not only the magical ability to piss him off more than anyone else could. No, in fact, he’d learned quickly that you possess a singular kind of zest for life. One which he’d feared was too pure to survive long in the dark. Honestly, he’d believed your optimism and your joy was naive at first. Something to be knocked out of you in boot camp. But he was wrong so far. At every turn you endure. At every turn, you shine. As he feels increasingly bogged down, saturated with inky, oily shadows, you are bright. His guiding light, always calling him home from the edge of the dark, shadow-coiled path he skirts. 

“Do we follow it?” you ask excitedly, the glint of adventure in your bright eyes, and in that moment he could swear he’d follow you anywhere. 

“Yeah. Of course we follow it. It’s our goddamn duty to follow it.” Santiago stomps his boot and waves his arm in a sloppy military salute - the kind that would earn him fifty push-ups back at base. You follow suit, even more sloppy, but entirely resolute in your faux seriousness. 

“Tonight, I swear my oath and pledge my allegiance to music, so help me God.” 

Santiago stomps emphatically again, for effect - an overblown, cheesy action-movie-style salute, his strong jaw set in an overly caricatured display. You beam again, a face-splitting grin, and he…

…realises he is having fun. 

In this moment, you are giddy. You are bright. Full of life, and Santiago briefly wonders if this is how things could be. If it could be like this all the time if only you could get out. If you could leave the military behind. God. You are the last person he wants to lose from his side, but a knot twists in his stomach at the thought you should get out while you still can. Before it drags you down like it is him. Before he drags you down with him, since you’ve seemingly tied your fates to his with red bloodied ribbons, wound between your bones and his. 

He doesn’t have much time to consider those things though. To let the blood seep into the edges like it always does; because you start running. You take Santiago’s hand in yours and run towards the distant thud of noise, leading him behind you and laughing and whooping as you do. Making a grey night in a grey part of town feel vibrant. Making him feel vibrant by association. He realises only then how numb he’s felt lately. How your buoyant smile had been the only thing to feed his own these past months. 

You are so much more than a throwaway fantasy to him. 

You truly are the friend he’s needed so desperately, and feels so, so lucky to have found. 

He runs with you, and he hopes, silently, selfishly, somewhere in the pit of him, that your paths never wind in different directions. 

He’ll follow you anywhere. 

***

After a few, giddy, chaotic minutes of tracing the ricocheting sounds, you find yourselves in the lobby of a seedy hotel, breaths sawing in and out of your lungs and mirthful, intermittent giggles spilling out of you. 

“I’m on the guest list!” you insist with a hiccough, trying your utmost to blag your way into the wedding party contained beyond the double doors; the established source of the music. 

Your assertion is much to the chagrin of the teenaged, stoner-looking kid on the front desk, who is clearly milking his new-found authority for all it’s worth. 

“Sure, lady. Then what’s your name?” 

Santiago looks at you expectantly, his arm slung casually around your shoulders, his chest already shaking and nose scrunching with a mildly tipsy, sleep-deprived concoction of mischief. 

“The name’s Trench,” you deadpan, and the poor fellow actually begins to skim his index finger down the alphabetised list. “Mariana Trench.” 

Santiago eyeballs you. Honestly, half of him is awed by your balls, even as the other half is despairing of your chosen (and completely unnecessary) alias. Still, he sees the funny side, of course, and has to swallow a hearty laugh by faux coughing into his fist. 

There are not many factors helping your case here; especially the fact your body is already unconsciously bopping along to the music. Santiago has to physically encourage you back to your spot with his arm around your middle, and, as the rhythm continually beckons you forth, he hastily tucks you into his side in a fruitless attempt to subdue you. 

By the time Santiago’s gaze flicks back to the kid at the desk, he’s folded his arms over his chest like a stern math teacher, clearly enjoying his upper hand. “Dude,” the kid probes sceptically, perhaps sensing that Santiago is the more sensible (or at least more sober) of the two of you. “What are the names of the bride and groom?” 

“Nicole and Dio,” Santiago fires off smugly, causing you to first gasp and - second - to gawk at him like a fish (which is funny, because for all you know he’s made those up too). 

“How did you know that?” you hiss-whisper, thinking you are being oh so subtle, and Santiago elbows you discreetly in the ribs for your trouble. This time though, he is unable to stifle his laughter entirely, a throaty chuckle shaking out of him, and the crinkles around his eyes rehearsing deeper future furrows. 

Meanwhile, whilst the kid at the desk continues to eye him sceptically, he cannot refute Santiago’s knowledge. The soldier silently praises his undeniable powers of observation - and the fact the kid seems to have entirely forgotten about the huge fuck-off sign standing in the entrance lobby. 

“Yeah. Still no.” This kid is a tough nut. 

“Shit,” you plead. “Well can I at least use the restroom?” 

“I guess that’s fine,” the kid concedes with an eye roll, gesturing towards the left hand side of the lobby. 

You saunter off, beelining towards the door with such ferocity that you whack your hip off of the doorframe on the way in there. 

Santiago winces in time with your “ouch!”, but as you throw your arms in the air, triumphantly insisting you are fine, he turns his attention back to his mission; to get you whatever you want for your birthday. 

Sporting the friendliest smile he can muster in the full knowledge this kid behind the desk hates him already, Santiago mosies up to the counter. 

“Come on, buddy. Hook us up,” he reasons. “It’s a Tuesday night and everywhere else is closed by now.” 

“Dude, your attempts to get laid are not my issue.” 

“No. No, it’s… She’s my friend. It’s her birthday and-”

“-Then take her to a fucking Chilli’s, bro. Still not my problem.” 

Santiago huffs, still trying to keep his face neutral. Non-threatening. He needs to step things up before you return from the restroom. 

“Listen, buddy.” The kid scowls at him then as if to confirm - I’m emphatically not your buddy. “Do you know what it’s like to be shot in service of your country?” 

“What?!”

He nods behind him, in your general direction, his eyebrows pumping up towards his hairline (and reaching for a hasty explanation before the kid presses the under-desk alarm button). “Because she does.” Santiago rests his folded arms up on the counter. Leaning-in. Going all out with the eye contact. “When I tell you she’s had a shitty time of it? Lying on the ground, bleeding out. So, look, man. I just want to give her a good time tonight, alright? Would you please help me out, man? She’s fucking earned this.”

A gulp trails down the kid’s neck, and he tucks his long, straight blonde hair behind his ears. “You’re intense, bro. Anyone ever told you that?” 

Santiago opens his mouth again, wishing to further embellish his case; but before he can do so the kid caves, waving his palms in total surrender. “Fuck, man. Do what you want, but for the love of God, would you just stop talking to me?”

“Great. Thank you. I mean it.”

“Yep. Whatever. Don’t get paid enough for this shit, bro.”

Santiago hears the door swing behind him, and joins you just in time to lead you further into the building, pleased that he is able to report victory. He’s almost forgotten about the front desk already - until the kid calls after him, growing bolder the further you two retreat, apparently. “This is why I’m a pacifist, dude! You might wanna think about it.” 

“Sure thing,” he calls back over his shoulder. “I’ll give it some consideration.”

Then, Santiago gently ushers you into the corridor leading towards the party, taking a moment to celebrate his “smooth-talking”. Before he can even think about bragging though, you throw your arms up in the air in a tada gesture and exclaim “you are welcome!”. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you you’d had no part in getting past the gate, and so instead, he opts to finally vent his quashed laughter. The fact you’d name-dropped Mariana Trench, specifically, supplies a giggle hearty enough that it makes his abs ache.

“Oh. By the way. How do I look?” you question, when the two of you are just shy of making an entrance to the main hall. 

Santiago turns to you and looks you up and down. Notices the fresh application of smeared red over your plush mouth. Surveys your jeans and tee with approval, as though you are outfitted in a gown. “Good, chica.” 

“Good!” You step forward then, towards him, and lay your palms flat on his upper chest. “Now. You know what I wanna do?” For a split second, with your proximity, and the husky thrall of your voice, Santiago finds himself imagining what you might want to do to him - if he should be so lucky. “I wanna dance. Will you dance with meeee, Santiaaaaggooo?” 

Santiago feels a lump lodge itself in his throat. Tries hard to forget that… well… red lipstick and dancing? They are - more often than not -  your highly decipherable code for being horny. Shit - he wonders if you are as pent up as he is. 

“You got it!” he musters, getting himself quickly in check. Christ, he needs to prioritise getting laid  - just as soon as he is no longer wholly dedicated to your birthday. 

“Yay!” 

You lead him by the hand and, once again, Santiago does not complain. Then, swinging open one of two double doors, plastered with unsightly fire regulations, you enter the fray. 

The doors open on a busy room, bathed in beams of chaotic coloured light. In reality, the interior is drab. A sad, grey, carpeted room. A few busted ceiling tiles up top. The circular event tables are flanked by a sorry stage at one side - fronted by a sticky, modest square of dance floor - and a small bar at the other. Finally, the far wall is edged with a rather depleted buffet, and intermittent bowls of greying macaroni. Whilst the room itself is nothing to write home about, however, the jubilation inside makes it feel positively wonderful. 

Santiago feels only for a split second like he is intruding. Within moments, he is all wrapped-up in the buzz. Enveloped by it. The band’s amps are turned up far too loud. The dance floor is awash with couples gyrating on each other and groups of singles circling each other, looking for an in. Throngs of friends and family are grouped throughout the room, laughing and chatting, taking photos on disposable cameras and clinking glasses, and when the two of you enter, matching smiles plastered on your faces, no-one even bats an eye. 

“We’re really doing this?” Santiago raises his voice above the tremor of the music. “Crashing a fucking wedding?”

“Relax! It’s not the worst thing you’ve ever done, Garcia. It’s not even against the Geneva Convention.” 

“Jesus! I’m not a fucking war criminal!”

“Relax, Santiago,” you encourage, tone soothing and your hands massaging into his shoulders; and, finally, he lets himself. For once, he lets his guard down. So, as you travel deeper into the room, Santiago begins to move a little less like a soldier on patrol, and allows his gait to loosen up. Allows himself to approach the room not as a soldier on high alert, but simply as some guy with his buddy, looking for a good time. “Attaboy,” you encourage, seeing him visibly unclench - a rare thing. “We’re good, alright? Hey. I’ll even leave a pack of Reese’s on the table. That way, we even brought a gift.” 

“And you’ll keep a low profile, right?” 

“Of course!” You flash him a faux innocent grin, which he sees right through. 

Yeah, figures, he thinks. Honestly, he isn’t sure you are capable of blending in - stealth ops aside, of course. But here? Without your camo and a distinct lack of a gilly suit? Baby, look at you, you’re gonna be noticed. 

“Alright. We dance. Just keep it low key or-“

“-Sure, sure,” you dismiss, waving your hand through the air as though to erase his plea. “But first, tequilaaaa!” 

Evidently, you are ignoring him completely, and yet the beaming smile on your face is so utterly worth it that Santiago could care less. “Eh. Whatever you say, Princesa.” 

You wink at him. “Now you’re getting the idea.”

Santiago watches you skip gracelessly over to the bar, making zero attempt to blend into the crowd (unsurprising). You order up two shots, downing one instantly and handing the other to him with a jubilant, mildly devilish grin. At this stage, Santiago is deliberately a few drinks behind you, having wanted to remain sober enough to take care of you. So, he figures he has a little wiggle room remaining before he reaches the point of no return. Egged on by your encouraging nods, he tips it down the hatch. 

“Cheers!” you exclaim, clumsily clinking your little plastic shot glass against his. The remains of the amber liquid still glisten on your mouth, lending an appealing shine to your red lips. As you mop the drips away with the back of your hand, you slightly smear the shade towards your cheek. 

Before Santiago can rectify the situation for you though, you’ve once again taken his hand and trailed him behind you, clumsily weaving through the crowd as he interjects “sorry!” each time you bash - either your body or his - into someone else’s. Before long though, the two of you are safely tucked right in the midst of it all, adding to the messy, merry throng on the compact dance floor. The amateurish but jubilantly played rock covers from the band began to vibrate all the way through his chest as you position right next to the speakers. 

As the vibrations tickle through him, bass inflating like a balloon in his rib cage, drowning out his thoughts and his heartbeat, you dance. With his thoughts silenced - or, rather, out-volumed- he slips into his body as if it is his own again. As if it belongs to him, and not just to some notion of God and country. 

You, for your part, dance as if compelled to. As though, after living for so long with your body following orders, exercising control, being disciplined, staying in line, you can finally let it be free. Can finally let it express itself.  

You move well, Santiago notes as he allows his own body to limber, freeing up his arms and his hips and feeling the buzz of the music and the alcohol thrum pleasantly through his body. It all feels somewhat alien to him now, his body stiff and lacking muscle memory for such imprecise, unplanned movements. You though? You move with abandon. With joy, like you never forgot how to feel it, belting the lyrics right from your chest. Jumping and waving your arms when the guitar solo drops. 

It makes him deeply happy to see you like this. What’s more, amidst the dance floor of preened, deliberate women encircling your space, their movements seemingly contrived to be appealing, alluring, sexual, your reckless expression is far sexier to him. You feel freed, wild - and it almost feels dangerous to him. This clear absence of regiments and rules and barriers feels dangerous, even the barriers between your body and his disintegrating as you dance closer, the beat shaking you together like sand on a drum skin. 

Indeed, your bodies are pushed ever closer and closer as the surprisingly heaving crowd compresses you tighter and tighter in the minimal, sticky-floored maneuver room. And so, after you’ve suffered one too many bumps and restrictions from stray shoulders and elbows, you finally give in to it, looping your arms around his neck and choosing to dance with him. 

Instinctually, automatically, Santiago’s hands fall to your hips, gripping you there as your body sways and rolls in time to the music, the raw, dirty hard rock vocals moving through you and bedding down into your body. 

At first, when your body presses up against his and the hot breath of your laughter fans over his neck, Santiago thinks about adjusting. About sliding his hands back up to your waist, where -perhaps- the gesture may seem less intimate. May allow for a little more room and a little less contact. 

It isn’t as though the two of you are strangers to touching. You are both tactile people, and besides, you’re often in close quarters. You’ve slammed each other to the mat plenty of times. He’s had your sweaty, writhing body all over his. Your grunts of submission sounding in his ear. Huffs of exertion fanning against his neck. Thighs locked with his. His hips pinning you. But this? This is a little different. It isn’t precise, technical touch. It isn’t objective-driven. There are no clear rules, besides friends not lovers, and even that distinction is starting to feel a little blurry. 

No, this kinda touch is something else. It is raw. It is instinctual; and that scares him, in truth. 

However, it doesn’t scare him nearly enough to want to stop.

He does not move his hands from your rolling, swaying hips. Can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gives in to it. To the music. To the feeling. To you. And, when does, he finds himself surprised by how fluidly your bodies move together. Symbiotically. Like a team. Like you do in battle, sure. In the field. Like it is the most natural thing in the world; but this time, your combining is not at all driven by survival. It is driven by living, and Santiago could swear, in this moment, that he has never felt quite so alive. 

The room is getting hot. The undulating crowd of bodies surrounding you is only adding to it. Exertion is glowing on your skin. He can feel it up against him, your sweat bleeding through your damp t-shirt where your breasts press into him. Can feel it beneath his fingers, tacky and slick, as he wraps his hands around that bare flash of skin at your midriff. God, you are smooth, and soft, and slick, and he is momentarily transfixed by a bead of sweat sinking down the centre of your chest, disappearing beneath the “v” of your shirt. 

Someone else’s body briefly presses up against his in the crush and he cringes away from the feel of their slick skin… but you? Yours? You feel good to him. He doesn’t mind it. 

That scares him too; but still, not enough to stop. 

With a joyous, unfettered laugh you claim back some space, spinning Santiago underneath your arm, your dance moves growing increasingly outlandish. Of course, Santiago follows your lead. Always does. And, before long, the two of you can barely dance from laughing and can barely laugh from your insistence to keep dancing. 

It feels good. Good to push your respective bodies to their limit on your own terms for once. To be with each other, side by side, in a scenario which could not be further from life or death; but that feels a thousand times more vital and central to being alive. 

Seeing your smile strobe as the blue party lights slip and flash over the planes of your face, the beats and riffs pulsing through his body, Santiago feels giddy and he feels bright. With laughter bobbing in his throat and aching in his sides, he feels goddamn luminescent, and so he can’t help but wonder. Can’t help but wonder if this is how he would feel all the time. If he got out. If the two of you could just be people, instead of soldiers.

Santiago holds on to it. He holds on to you. To the feeling of freedom. Of pure, unfettered joy. Of this strange peace amidst the blurry, heavy noise. 

He holds on to it while he can. He smiles with you until his face hurts. Laughs with you until his breath wanes. Dances with you longer than he should, song after song. Dances until he is sweating through his t-shirt, a dark “v” of sweat trailing down his chest. Dances, long after that now familiar heat in his newly ailing knees has crossed into discomfort. Dances closer and closer to the speaker until the music is indistinguishable from him, beating through his chest and down into his bones, and still; the two of you move your bodies. The two of you cling to each other like your life depends on it - and perhaps, precisely because of all the times it has. 

When you lean forward, cupping his ear, your lips almost pressed right to his skin to be heard over the din, a warm snake travels down his spine. “See! We still haven’t been found out!” You draw back to flash him a mischievous grin, your eyes glinting with a spark far more warming than the heat which already slickens his skin. 

You are most definitely up to something. You dip forward again as he strains to hear you. “Wanna be a little bolder?” There is a dark and delicious lilt in your voice. A tempting thing, enticing him into trouble - as per usual. 

He does though. Wants to be a little bolder. 

He wants to kiss you, in fact. To test the limits of just how well your bodies can move together. But…  just like all the other times tonight he lets that desire atrophy. Pushes it outside of his body. You are so much more to him than the tingle in his dick. Offer him so much more than whatever parts of you he could seek out with his hands and his mouth, skin finding skin, finding deep, dark wetness. 

If you wanted it, hey, it’s not like he would say no. He isn’t that strong; but he’d decided long ago that when it came to crossing that line, he would simply follow your lead. 

“What did you have in mind?” Santiago asks, dipping his own lips towards your ear. 

Your response is not quite what he expects. You simply throw both arms up into the air, your eyebrows jumping up with them. “Karaokeeee!”

It is a pleasant surprise, to be honest. He loves to see you like this. To see you have fun. Chasing your whims. Getting to be damn silly. For so long, everything has been so grim and so serious.

However, even if your suggestion - at first - inspires a broad, nose-crinkling smile, Santiago looks up at the freestanding mic in horror next - when he realises exactly what you are about to do. “Shit. Sweetie. It’s not-” 

-It is already too late. You are already clambering up on stage and taking your position by the vacant mic spot. “…It’s not karaoke,” Santi mumbles under his breath, mentally readjusting his level on how wasted you are. 

“Come with me, Pope!” you shout down to him, making grabby hands towards him. Next, you commandeer the mic pole as the frontman - who had simply stepped out for brief swig of water - looks on in confusion. 

Santiago sighs and slides his palm over his face, for he knows, fine well, exactly what is about to go down. That, after all the times you’ve saved his skin, tended his wounds, and -damn- even been shot to keep him safe, he for sure isn’t about to let you make a fool of yourself. At least, not alone. 

Cringing already from the forceful embarrassment of commandeering an entire stage at a wedding he’s just crashed, Santiago sets his jaw in resignation and hops semi-gracefully up there, rising to stand right next to you. 

“What happens in Philadelphia…” he mumbles, before bracing himself and accepting his fate. 

He raises his arm as a shield against the intense spotlight, and can suddenly see that the whole party is looking by now, heads whipping around following your triumphant “woop” into the microphone. 

He makes a mental note to explain to you what the words “low profile” mean later, as clearly, you’ve completely failed to grasp that concept. 

Santiago gulps as he looks out across the confused sea of faces, his mouth suddenly bone dry as he prays that no-one will actually yell “who the fuck are you?” Then, not for the first time this evening, he desperately attempts to conjure up a plan of action. Once again, he is pretty sure that cunnilingus won’t quite cut it here either. 

His goal right now is two-fold. To enable you to sing on stage, like you want to, and to avoid being forcibly removed from the venue. It is unfortunate that the former goal seems to void the latter, but hey. He’s been in stickier situations. And, with luck, Santiago remembers one useful thing. The fact that -according to damn near everyone- he’s a charming little fucker. Now, he supposes, is as good a time as any to put that theory to the test. 

“Nicole and Dio.” He gestures to the bride, and motions to gesture towards the groom too. That is, before realising he has no idea who “Dio” is in the crowd, so instead, he lets his arm flop uselessly back to his side. Next, he takes what he feels is a well-earned moment to let the feedback from the microphone die, wincing slightly at the noise, and becoming acutely aware of the sizzle of nervous sweat burning off of his forehead. “I think it’s safe to say,” he ventures with a little more confidence, straining to remember his cousin’s wedding and every platitude he might repeat, “that a love like yours comes around once in a lifetime. I know I speak for both of us when we say we’d like to wish you a lifetime of happiness together to enjoy it.” You helpfully lean forward in that moment and give another celebratory woop. “Thanks for that, sweetie,” he deadpans, wiping his brow just as urgently as he scans the room, searching for something -anything- he can pull from to meet his twinned objectives. 

Suddenly though, against all odds, he actually spots his way out. Emphatically, triumphantly, he points towards the Irish flag proudly adorning the far wall, and dearly hopes he is on to something. “A million tiny things had to align for you two to come together. You could even say it was fate. So, in tribute to the miles travelled by your ancestors, here it is. This one is for the Irish-Americans in the house!” Firstly, he is relieved, to say the least, when that statement earns a hearty cheer from the crowd. “Let’s hear it for Metallica; Whiskey in the jar.” Secondly, he is relieved when that statement earns further cheers, particularly from you. 

Next, Santiago looks confidently to the band, deciding he will simply stare at them pointedly until the drums kick in. “For Nicole and Dio!” he adds with a flourish after an uncomfortably long moment of inaction; and, as the crowd gets behind Santiago, who on earth are they to deny him? 

“Everybody on the dance floor!” you add, with an enthusiasm so overblown it can’t fail to be infectious.

Still, when Santiago finally thinks he has it nailed, you turn to him with a sudden and pronounced wash of horror on your face. “Garcia. Shit. It’s not karaoke!” 

“Princesa,” he soothes as the band kicks in, wrapping his arm firmly around your waist to avert your knees buckling in fright. “If it’s not karaoke, why the shit do I have a mic and a backing track, huh?” You still look unsure. “Come on, sing it with me. You’re hot as hell up here, don’t go shy on me.” 

Santiago turns, forgetting the crowd entirely as his mission revolves wholly around you. 

He begins to sing to you, gaze soft and encouraging until you relax back into it, your broad, electric smile returning. He tugs you closer into him, snug and safe until you grow bold enough to sing along with him into your one shared mic, gradually letting go and -bolstered by him- giving it increasing amounts of gusto. 

The pool of guests at your feet are going surprisingly wild for it too, almost every one in the room having now descended on to the dance floor.

“Here,” he encourages, as soon as he feels you’re ready, handing the mic off to you for the remaining verses of the song. “You got this, sweetie.” 

He lets you have your moment in the spotlight, cheering you on from the sidelines as you sing and air-guitar your way through the final chorus. You aren’t necessarily singing at your best after belting out lyrics at top volume, but what you lack in vocal ability you sure make up for in spirit. You have bags of that, and you perform it with plenty of showmanship, throwing yourself all over the stage and making Santiago’s face split with joy as he whoops along with you, fist-pumping enthusiastically. 

You even end the song by taking a knee and exclaiming “Nicole and Dio!”, raising your mic arm triumphantly in the air like the rock star you are - which is a huge relief to Santiago, as it had looked for a moment like you were about to stage dive into the completely unsuspecting crowd. 

You wrap it up to what Santiago will later describe as rapturous applause. You milk it for all it's worth, before relinquishing the mic to the actual band and skipping over to your biggest fan. 

“Was I fucking amazing?” you ask, bundling him into an enclosing hug. 

“Holy shit. Felt like I was watching Kerrang.” 

You punch him playfully in the arm for his shit-eating grin. “Dickhead.”

“What’s next for the Birthday Princess?” Santi asks, hopping off of the stage and guiding you safely down too. 

He’s secretly praying you’ll say “back to the motel”, but it doesn’t surprise him at all when you throw your arms jubilantly into the air and yell: “more dancing!”. 

Santiago brings the pad of his thumb up to the corner of your mouth, finally smoothing away that damn lipstick smear he wishes he’d gotten to before your impromptu stage show. “Go for it, hermosa,” he insists fondly. “I’ll be with you in a sec, yeah? After pulling that shit, I don’t think we have long before we get busted. You gonna be ready to hustle soon?”

You nod, fist-bump him, and skitter off to the dance floor, your seemingly boundless energy carrying you right the way through towards dawn. 

Santiago will give this track a miss, he thinks. His knees need a goddamn time-out; but his eyes still linger on you, shining fondly as you are folded into the crowd. 

***

“Touching speech, lad,” a low-timbre voice sounds to Santiago’s left. “But who in the devil are ya?”

Santiago, who is sat blissfully nursing a glass of ice cold tap water, immediately swivels on his barstool. This puts him face-to-face with an older gentleman, of considerable stature. 

The man’s crinkled, bushy-eyebrowed face is stern; but not unkind, even as his chin juts up in challenge. Santiago rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. There is no point trying to wriggle out of this one, and he’s already sure of it. 

“Okay,” he responds, his voice slow and low and his palms raising defensively in the air. The man might be both older and frailer than Santiago, but he exudes a certain authority which trumps his own youthful confidence. In short, Santiago certainly doesn’t want to piss him off. “You got me. It’s a long story, and we weren’t technically invited… but we don’t mean any trouble, Sir. And, hey, we did bring a gift,” Santiago adds for good measure, not entirely convinced that the mushed up peanut butter cups in your jeans pocket will make any shade of difference now - but hoping. 

The man presses his lips together and hums, as if mulling over the guilty party’s fate. After a moment of contemplation though, the older gentleman unceremoniously releases some of the rigidity from his body, slumping down into Santiago’s neighbouring bar stool with a sense of resolution. A gulp trails down Santiago’s neck all the same. “You a military pair, kid?” the man asks casually, making-out like he’s thoroughly absorbed in rolling his cigarette papers, but his sharp eyes still finding time to needle Santiago incisively. “I know the type.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Hmm. Well.” The man licks along the long edge of cigarette paper with the tip of his tongue. “You came clean, I’ll keep quiet. Besides commandeering the stage(!), you two don’t seem like too much trouble.” 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I’m Colin, by the way. Nicole’s granddaddy.” The man extends a hand and Santiago shakes it. 

“Santiago. And hey, congratulations.” 

Santiago would’ve allowed some of the tension to seep out of his own rigid body by now; except for the fact he can sense the man is not quite finished with him. He lights the tip of his cigarette with a battered-looking, engraved lighter, smoke swirling around him and becoming one with his white-gray, thinning hair. “Since I’ve been so generous, lad, how’s about you explain to me the circumstances that brought you to crash my granddaughter’s wedding?” 

From the man’s unwavering stare, Santiago knows fine well this is a demand and not a suggestion. He rubs his sweaty palms together, finding himself reluctant to spill but with little apparent choice in the matter. Still, as his gaze flicks back in the direction of you, he feels a softness overcome him. “It’s her birthday. We’re on leave. Had a big trip planned to reunite with some buddies but the airport-“

“-ah. All shut down.” Colin nods in partial understanding, taking a long drag on his smoke. 

“Yes, sir. So I, uh. Well, I had to improvise.” 

Colin’s eyes flutter briefly closed. Then, a small flicker of a smile appears, as he - apparently - achieves a fuller understanding than Santiago’s divulgence should have allowed. An understanding which Santiago isn’t sure he has attained himself, as it stands. Is he missing something? “I see. You wanted to show her a good time.”  

“Yeah. Yessir.” 

To Santiago’s utter surprise, the man’s hand clasps down on top of his closest shoulder, the cigarette still pinned precariously in between his forefingers, and the smoke tangling around Santiago’s curls like future grays attempting to stick. “What are you drinking, lad?”

“Uh. Water,” Santiago replies simply, recalling the glass sweating on the bar top. 

“Not any more.” Colin signals the bartender with a barely perceptible raise of his chin, and manages to convey his order simply by raising two of his fingers in the air.

Santiago watches as a bottle, sporting an affixed yellow post-it note, is grabbed-up from its secret hiding spot under the counter. Must be the good stuff. 

When served, Colin slides one glass over to Santiago with the back of his age-spotted palm. “You don’t have to drink it, o’ course - I’ll just think you’re a rude fecker if you don’t.”

“Thank you, sir.” The two men swivel on their stools to face the bar and Santiago takes a sip, doing his best to hide his reaction to the intensity of it. 

Colin guffaws. “Yeah. That’ll put hairs on yer chest.” 

Santiago splutters, attempting to quickly smooth himself. “Cheers. To Nicole.” He hoists his glass in the air. 

“Aye. Here’s to that.” 

Santiago smiles, clinking his glass with Colin’s and hoping against all odds that you might come and rescue him soon. 

You don’t, but mercifully the chat is suspended for a moment as the man coiffs his cigarette and his drink, and Santiago even suspects he has been forgotten entirely as another guest draws Colin into niceties and conversation. 

Therefore, after a few warming swigs have slipped down his throat, each one followed by a grimace, Santiago turns, realising it has been a minute since he’s had eyes on you. He quickly locates you on the dance floor, boogying with some tall, white guy. A guy who is - with your encouragement - getting rather handsy. Seeing this, all of Santiago’s muscles tighten and he feels the vague urge to leap up off of his bar stool - that is, until Colin interjects.

“Can I give you some advice?” 

Santiago’s initial thought is “no”; but he has a feeling Coilin may offer his unsolicited advice regardless. “Don’t crash weddings?” he jests half-heartedly, the lion’s share of his attention still on you and that guy’s damn hands. 

“Marry her.”

Santiago’s gaze flips immediately towards Colin, his face the picture of abject confusion. “Sorry. Who?” 

Colin chuckles to himself, evidently quite tickled, and nods his head gently in your direction. “Your lady friend.” 

Santiago saws his palm over the five-o-clock shadow adorning his jaw. A weak, throaty chuckle bobs in his throat. He finds it funny. Preposterous. “With respect, Sir. That’s not gonna happen.” It is knee-jerk. Santiago had sworn off marriage long ago. Had long ago given up on the prospect of any form of happy ending. Besides, you and him? He doesn’t think so. 

“Oh. Boyo,” Colin begins, his tone juuuust condescending enough to make Santiago stiffen. “You find someone who makes you as happy as that, you marry her. Trust me, lad.”

Santiago purses his lips. Tightens them into a thin line. “We’re not… together.” Not that it’s any of this guy’s business what you are to him; but he’s just not getting it. 

“You love her,” Colin says softly. Almost gently, as though he’s breaking bad news. 

”What?” Santiago shakes his head incredulously, blinking several times in succession. 

“I can barely see past my own arm these days, lad, but I can see that much.” 

There is that hand, clasping his shoulder again. This time it feels different. “You love her.” 

The first time Colin had spoken these words, Santiago had bristled. Felt provoked. He should feel similarly now too - he knows it - but upon hearing them for a second time, a sudden clarity settles over him. In fact, he’s never felt less confused by a statement in his life. 

He feels his mouth go dry. A sudden ringing in his ears. He could’ve sworn he had hands and feet earlier in the evening, but right now he can’t feel them. 

Of course he loves you, he thinks, reaching for logic. For rationalisations. But it’s not like that. That’s simply what happens when you go through so much together. You bond, intensely. That’s all it is. All it amounts to. 

Colin has this all wrong. 

Santiago looks at you then. Really looks at you, as you grab your dance partner by the shirt and shove your tongue in his mouth, pulling away from the kiss with a wolfish grin. Some kind of feeling he can’t hope to name tightens like a fist in his stomach when you do that. “She’s…” Santiago wants to protest. Wants to say that no, he doesn’t. But those aren’t quite the words which find their way out. Instead, he says quietly, like he’s delivering bad news now: “she’s my best friend.” 

“Ah,” Colin breathes, in a fresh tone of relief. As if satisfied. As if he has now achieved full understanding - even if Santiago has not. The older man stubs out his cig and downs the dregs of his whiskey, cheersing Santiago once more with a clink of his empty glass. “There you go then. Isn’t that the same thing?”

Isn’t that the same thing?

It is a blur from there. A blur as Colin once again outstretches his hand and Santiago obliges by shaking it, his arm feeling limp and useless like a bag of cotton-wool. It is a blur as Colin wishes him well with a jolly “take care, lad,” sauntering away with no concern for the destruction left in his wake. 

It is a blur as you sidle over, as though the volume in the room has been turned down all of a sudden. It becomes gradually louder again as you approach. 

You. 

You. 

You.

“Fuck, you okay, Garcia? You look like you’re about to puke.” 

There’s nothing here. 

Nothing with you. 

Nothing he could have with you. No way. 

“Seriously! You look queasy as hell.” You place your hand across his brow to see if he’s burning up.  

“No. ‘M good. Fine,” he says tightly. 

You nod, still looking sceptical but opting to buy what he’s selling. “You just tired? Too much dancing?”

”Heh. Something like that.” It is a struggle to push the words out, but he surprises himself. Gradually sinks himself back into the room. Back into his body. 

Santiago notices the brief spark of an idea fleet over your face as you regard him and, in the next moment, you dip forward to chastely kiss him on the cheek. He feels a deep, blooming heat develop under his skin, his cheeks darkening with a crimson flush, and he resists the urge to clamp his palm over the spot your lips touched. “What was that for?” 

A delicate smile dances on your mouth. “Thank you, butthead. I’m having a good birthday.”

It’s what you don’t say. It’s what your eyes are telling him. Your body language. Your touch. You’re telling him things you’ve been saying for a long time now. Things which, thanks to Colin, beg a whole load of new questions.

You slip your hand down his arm, grasping his hand in yours. For a moment he just stares, looking down at your hands clasped there together. He is vaguely aware of the track switching in the background, to a slower, more heartfelt tune, and, by the time he drags his eyes back-up to yours, he figures he’s got a head start already on what you’re about to ask. 

He makes it so you don’t even have to. “One more dance?” 

He stands, capturing your waist with his wrapped arm, leading you back towards the dance floor. The surprise and relief and glee on your face as he preempts you is almost too bright for him to look at. 

“You even know how to slow dance, Garcia?” you ask as he maneuvers the two of you into prime position, right in the beam of a sweeping purple spotlight, the dancefloor filling exclusively with swaying couples as the tender, swooping song resonates through the room. 

“Haven’t slow danced since prom,” he admits. “But I’ll follow your lead, Princesa.” 

“You a’ways do, asshat.” 

“You know? You’re not wrong. Now, come here.”

He holds his arms out and you step into his sturdy circumference, no hesitation. Trust implicit, your bodies moving in sync. You drape the loop of your arms gently around his shoulders, your twined fingers brushing the nape of his neck, sending a warm shudder through him. His hands hover helplessly for a moment, but he eventually settles them on your hips, drawing your body closer, tightening the space between you as you each sway together, cheek to cheek. 

“I - I can’t believe you did this for me, you know?” Your voice is lower, dropped in your throat. Heavy with solemnity as though you are thanking him for taking a bullet for you or something. “Tonight. The karaoke. Everything.” 

“Well,” he dismisses, against the shell of your ear. It’s not nearly enough.“You got shot for me, so...”

Your light, lilting laugh fans across his check. It isn’t funny at all, wasn’t a joke; except that it’s so tragic it kinda has to come full-circle, he supposes. “Fine,” you offer. “Call it even?” 

Even? 

It could never get close to even. 

Santiago feels a surge of emotion welling in him. Like suddenly there is a mechanism dredging all the settled silt back up to the surface. It rises all the way up - into his chest, into his throat. He pulls back slightly until you are face to face, his expression far more severe than the situation merits; but he can’t help it. It feels barbed, difficult, coming out of his mouth, but it needs to be said. “You have no idea what you’ve done for me, you know?” His eyes are glistening, a telltale softness nestled beneath his thick brows, and his thumbs unconsciously rubbing circles into the meat of your hips. “You’re…. I… I mean. You’re… my best friend.”

You gawp back at him for a moment, visibly caught off-guard by his emotional intensity. Then: “oh no,” you whisper-shout into the space between you, as though if you push too much sound out, the emotions might overspill along with it. “Don’t get all soppy on me, you hear? You’re the only fucker who knows I have emotions, and I damn sure wanna keep it that way.”

His gaze flits all over your face. “Secret’s safe with me, Princesa.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

He smiles at you - a smile that only reaches his eyes. 

You nestle yourself back into the crook of his shoulder, your body pressed right up against his. One hand grasping at his back. The fingers of the other clasping his shorn head, dancing over the prickled hair of his army-issue buzzcut. 

He holds you, and in turn you hold him even tighter. You hold each other tightly until you are no longer even dancing. Until you are simply an island in a sea of undulating couples, holding on to each other for dear life. 

It scares him.

It scares him to his depths that he never wants to let you go; but not enough to stop.  

As he pulls you close to him, buries his face in your neck and embraces you tightly, he thinks about it. He thinks about whether he believes in happy endings. He thinks about whether his, if he could be so lucky, would involve you. 

Those thoughts are interrupted when he feels a wetness bloom on his shoulder. Feels you jerking and sniffing against him, and he experiences your sudden outpouring of pain as acutely as though it is his own. 

“Hey. Hey,” he soothes. “What is it?”

”I’m not sad, idiot.”

”No?”

”No. It’s…” You sniff. “It’s just been so hard lately. And, you know. Tonight has been so… It’s been so…” 

He thinks he knows what you mean. Thinks he understands you completely. “Perfect?” he ventures. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Perfect.” 

He holds you as you cry. And there’s not a chance in hell he’s letting you go. 

***

Considering your intoxication level, the sudden onset of tiredness, and your tears, Santiago figures it’s about time to head. He manages to get you in a cab back to the motel eventually - only after you’ve visited the ladies restroom, become fast friends with an equally drunken Nicole, bestowed her with peanut butter cups, and promised to meet-up next time you’re in the city. By this point, you are already dropping, and the soporific movements of the cab have you falling asleep draped over Santiago’s lap. 

He pays the driver when you arrive, stirring you with a warm hand smoothing up and down your back. He tries to be calm. Soothes you with his voice; because he knows all too well that for someone in the military, a rude awakening is no small thing. 

He walks you to the room and helps you sit down on the bed. Tugs your boots off for you as you opt to bury your nose deep in your own armpit and sniff. 

“Ew. I need a fucking shower.” 

“Fuck that. You can shower in the morning.” 

“I stink.” 

“Trust me. You’ve smelled much worse.” He smiles softly as his comment earns an indignant snort from you, but the ire in your face is quickly snuffed as he looks up to you a little too softly. “Let’s get you dressed for bed, alright, birthday girl?” 

“Mmm hmm. Okay then.” 

He swallows a smile at seeing you in this sleepy state. It’s not often that you allow anyone else to take care of you. In fact, Santiago feels a strange surge of honour - a glow within his chest -  that tonight, he is the one who has the privilege. 

You unabashedly begin to strip off your jeans and top next, and Santiago quickly scoops up an oversized t-shirt from the gaping mouth of your hold-all. “Here,” he says, swallowing the tremor in his voice as he gathers the fabric up and guides the garment gently over your head to cover you. Gingerly passes your arms through the right holes. “That’s it. Put this on, alright? Can you get your bra out from under there?” 

You maneuver the clasp and straps beneath the cover of the shirt until you are pulling the bra out from the confines of your tee, triumphantly flinging it across the room with a soft “woo!”, to which Santiago’s lips twitch in silent amusement. 

“Need to brush my teeth at least,” you argue, holding your arms up and out - making grabby hands to signal for his help. 

“Alright. Sure. Let’s go together.” Santiago helps you stand. Maneuvers and encourages you onwards. He wraps his closest arm around your waist, and his other hand catches the arm you throw out to him so he can keep you steady.  Then, steps in sync, you pad the short distance to the bathroom, Santiago lightly directing you away from bumping your hip on the doorframe (again) as you pass through it. “That’s it. Little off course there,” he chuckles. “Almost as bad as Ironhead’s God-awful driving.” 

You turn your head over your shoulder and scold him good-naturedly. “Ouch. Don’t remind me.” 

“Yikes, sorry. Too soon?” You’d teased Will for the unfortunate humvee training exercise that had put you in med bay, but Santiago guesses you aren’t quite ready to have him joke about it yet. 

“Never getting back in a car with that bastard in the driver’s seat, trust me. Fella takes off-road a little too literally, you know? Still have that goddamn tweak in my back too to prove it.” 

“You do, huh?” Shit, you’ve certainly hidden it well enough - had insisted you were unscathed, in fact, when sober - and so Santiago mentally logs that information for later.

With a little bit of wriggling around, you squeeze into the tight bathroom space. When you reach the bathroom sink, Santiago is still behind you, his hands now clamped on your hips and keeping you steady. When you turn on the faucet and bend enthusiastically towards the stream of water however - hinging at the hips and dipping to splash your face with cold water - Santi punches out a strangled note. Which is natural, he thinks, given that your panty-clad, half-bare ass is thrust further into his hands (and his crotch), with decidedly no room in the cramped space for him to back-up. “Woah, Jesus. Keep it vertical, would you?” 

“Shit, sorry. Liked that did you?” you mock, with a dirty, chaotic snigger. 

“I’m only a man, Princesa.”

With a nervous twist in his belly, Santiago flees to the more expansive space of the bedroom, leaving you to complete your task. Feeling somewhat claustrophobic, he throws open the window, thankful when the relative cool of the night air kisses his skin. The room has grown hot and sticky all of a sudden. Too close. Lord knows why. 

He perches himself inside the opened wooden square then, the flung-open frame an awkward perch. He rests with one leg hiked up on the ‘sill and one foot bracing him on the floor, his back reclining against the biting vertical edge. 

Only when you reenter does he reluctantly drag his eyes away from the black night and into the soft, shadowed shell of the dreary room. Despite this dimness, he can barely bring himself to look at you in this moment. It is as though you are too bright for him, and so he quickly -and uncharacteristically- averts his eyes. 

Still, you’re like a magnet, and his gaze quickly relocates you without much trouble. 

“Feel like staying awake a little longer?” 

Despite looking bleary-eyed - dead on your feet, even -  you nod in response to his proposition and, much unlike earlier, Santiago suddenly feels he wouldn’t dream of sleeping. You perch yourself on the edge of the bed and flick on the lamp, casting a sallow glow throughout the room. It makes you look at once dream-like and infinitely more real to him, as the glare highlights the goose flesh trailing up your arms and thighs. The tired circles under your eyes. He doesn’t know how you make such details attractive, but as far as he is concerned, there is no bad light to cast you in. 

You lay down, legs stretched out on the scratchy comforter, and torso propped against the stiff, unforgiving pillows. You make space for him to lie down alongside you, and yet Santiago opts to hover, not ready to relinquish his window seat. It’s as uncomfortable as it probably looks, however, and so he fumbles in his pocket for a smoke, figuring it as good an excuse as any to be sitting up there - instead of lying next to you. He stares out into the blackened parking lot with enough vigour to convince an onlooker it is entirely compelling - instead of looking at you. 

You are quiet for a moment following and Santiago lets it hang, exhaling twists of smoke from his mouth to the window. Flicking his spent ash down onto the asphalt below. Then, you expel a blustery sigh.

“Shit,” you grumble. You click your tongue. Santiago turns to see you lying flat on your back now, staring contemplatively up at the dusty, motionless ceiling fan, arms folded behind your head. “That guy I made out with.” 

Santiago takes an even deeper drag on his smoke; perhaps unconsciously hoping that if he is occupied long enough, he won’t be required to respond at all.

Your head lollops to the side, your gaze finding his. “Do me a favour and don’t tell Tommy I did that, okay?” 

Fuck. 

“Wait. Tommy?! You and Tommy?” The words are expelled faster than he would’ve wanted, almost making him choke on a cloak of hot smoke. “Tommy fucking Nelson?”

“Yeahhh. We’ve, um, sorta… been hooking-up lately.” 

Santiago quickly inhales another drag, smoke seething out of his nostrils as he flicks the used cigarette butt down to the asphalt below. He is grateful that the lungful gives him a second to think before he speaks - yet apparently, it is not quite long enough. “Shit. The guy’s so stacked I swear he must have abs on his dick.” 

You laugh; and Santiago decides that, based on the beauteous sound of it alone, Tommy fucking Nelson doesn’t even remotely deserve you. 

“I dunno about abs on his dick… but he’s got enough to work with, know what I mean?”

Santiago continues to peer out of the window, and so you don’t see his face crumple with a frown. “So he’s good, huh?” 

You scoff to yourself. “Oh. Fuck. Not really. He doesn’t do much of the work…” Your dirty laugh sounds out. “Fortunately, I’m a goddamn miracle worker when it comes to getting myself off.”

Strike two. Tommy Nelson definitely doesn’t deserve you. 

You giggle. Giggle like this is a girls’ fucking sleepover. Like you are revealing some - far more innocent - secret to a best friend. 

But… of course. Because that’s precisely what he is to you, right? Nothing more, nothing less. And that’s never bothered him before. Has never bothered him until precisely now. 

What exactly has gotten into him tonight, then? Why does some old guy have his head in a spin? Why is he delaying crawling onto his side of the bed? Why can’t he look at you? 

Further delaying the inevitable, Santiago pats down his pockets, hoping for another cigarette with which to prolong his diversion by the window. However, he comes up short. Has no other recourse left besides brushing his teeth, kicking off his shoes, stripping down to his boxers, and laying his body out alongside yours. The mattress dips as he settles on top of the covers, and you swivel on to your side to face him. 

“Hey.” You prod him in the pec. “What about you anyway?”

“What about me?”

You reach down. Snap the elastic hem of his boxers until it pings back against his toned stomach. “Been getting any lately?” 

He makes a vague, non-committal sound, hoping it will be enough; but, of course, you don’t stop there.  

“Your dream girl… Let’s see.” Your eyes spark, far too animated considering such a long night. “Wait. Don’t tell me. She’s… nude. Huge breasts.” Santiago had wanted to roll his eyes at you, honestly, but he finds he can’t quite quash his smile. “She’s… I know… draped in the American Flag.” His face splits with mirth. “Reciting the Fifth Amendment.” You prod him emphatically in the pec. “Plus she plays bass in a Pearl Jam cover band and gives next-level blow jobs.” His gaze sweeps over your shit-eating grin like a paintbrush over a canvas. Like fingers down a guitar fret. Like it belongs there. Like he belongs here. “Well?” you’d needled. “Am I warm yet?” 

“Wait, I think I know her.” Santiago snaps his fingers. “Hey. Yeah. Didn’t she hook-up with Benny last week?” 

You twist as chaotic laugh spills out of you, throwing your arm over him and dipping your head towards his bare chest. It is a small thing. A minute, unconscious action. A brief touch. A single moment. Except… the way it makes his stomach lurch makes it completely undeniable to him. Undeniable that the only girl doing it for him is you. 

He realises it all now though, as he looks at you. Realises he’s been seeing you in pieces. In fragments; because of course he has. Of course, because he’s been trying to survive, and if he’d dared to think, instead, about living? Well, then he’d have far too much to lose. 

“Come onnn,” you purr, jutting out your bottom lip, entirely oblivious to the way the ground is disappearing from beneath him as you remain curled into his side. “Give me some gossip. It’s my birthday!” 

He swallows. Tries to pull himself together. Tries to be exactly what you need him to be. 

“Christ.” He nervously scratches at the stubble sprouting along his jaw. “Well. Let’s see. First of all, I’ve spent so long without any action but my own goddamn fist that even Morales is starting to look appealing.” 

“Well? Do you think he’d be down?”  

“He should be so lucky. Anyway. He’s got a girl back home. High school kinda sweetheart deal.”

You scoff. “What? For real?”

“Mm hmm. He’s in it too. His eyes mightta wandered occasionally - but as far as I know his dick never has.” 

You pump your eyebrows like that surprises you. “Good for him.” And then: “It won’t last though.”

“Christ. You’re really that cynical already?”

“Something like that,” you smirk. “Guess it comes with the old age.” 

“Oh yeah. Speaking of birthdays…” Santiago pushes off his elbow and swivels, reaching to fumble a tiny, square parcel from his jeans pocket. He settles back into position with a grin on his face, extending his gift toward you. You eye it sceptically, but with casual intrigue. 

“Fuck me. Something else from your trousers that’s been manhandled to death, Santiago? You know how to treat a lady.” 

He can’t explain why he feels nervous as you weigh the package in your palm. “It’s… for protection.” 

“A fucking condom?”

“Ay, dios. Just open it, would you?” 

You rise up, settling cross-legged on top of the covers, and Santiago shifts to mirror you, with a lopsided, self-conscious smile. You pause, looking between him and the package with a gentle, subdued glee. You gingerly peel the red tissue paper away, revealing the gift nestled within. As soon as you observe what is inside, however, the glee evaporates from your face. You look down at it, for once rendered speechless before you say his name, the sound as thin as the wisps of smoke still eddying up on the ceiling. “Santiago.” 

He swallows. Saws his hand across his stubble, suddenly worried that the gesture is all off. “It’s-” 

Your eyes snap up to his, your expression raw and soft. “-I know what it is.” 

You look back down to the gift now, warmly. Lift them up, a string of black rosary beads unfurling. The beads his mom had gifted him for protection the day before he’d shipped out, clamping her hands over his and reciting a prayer he didn’t believe in, but which he’d felt all the way down to his marrow. The beads that he’d kept on him ever since, usually nestled in the pocket of his tac vest. The beads which his mother had prayed would keep him safe. Would protect him, when it had turned out to be you who had answered her prayer. You who had protected him, at whatever cost. 

“But I can’t-“

Stupid. You’re stupid. Of course you can. 

“It’s no big deal. I’m just a cheapskate,” he minimises. 

You inhale, about to launch a protest, but you must read something altogether too earnest in his face, since any such argument is subdued as soon as you look at him. Instead then, you hold them up once more, your eyes glistening as you admire the cheap, plastic beads for far more than they are worth. 

“But won’t your mom-“

“Be mad I gave them away?” You let the beads pool in one palm, the red tissue paper now strewn over your lap like swatches of blood. Santiago clamps his hands over yours, nestling the beads safely within, in a gesture which mirrors his mother’s own plea a little too closely. He empathises with her then. With her fear of being left behind. With her fear for his soul and its fate. “Are you shitting me? You saved her angelito. She’d probably sign the goddamn house over to you. I mean, shit - she’s already been bugging me to bring her new hija over for tamales.” 

He hasn’t ever told you that before. Maybe that’s why you do it. Why you gently cup his face and dip to render a light, chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. When you draw back from him, you look almost as surprised by the gesture as he is.  

“Santiago.” Your eyes well-up. “It really means a lot.” 

He doesn’t have words for a moment. It does. It means a lot to him, and he’s struck with sentimentality when he realises that it means something to you too. He nods once, gaze gently dancing over your face. 

“I mean it,” you squeeze out through welling tears. “This is the sweetest thing-“

“-Shh. Oh no. No, no, no,” he captures your tears with the crook of his forefinger just as they spill over, motioning as though he is attempting to restore them to whence they came, a soft yet playful concern dancing over his face. “Quick sharp. Put these back,” he whisper-shouts, faux urgently. “No-one can know you feel things.” 

His remark causes you to laugh through your tears, as you hastily lift a balled fist to scrub them away. The sounds dissolve into a pleasant yet taut silence, leaving the two of you simply looking into each other’s eyes. 

You are the first to break it, dropping your gaze down towards your lap. 

“Listen. Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I could do.“

Your expression grows more troubled then, a divot notching in your brow and your head shaking softly side to side. “Santiago. I need to say this. You… you don’t owe me any debt. Okay? And… and don’t you even think -ever- about trying to repay it. You hear me?” 

He owes you everything, and he’ll repay it however he can; but he isn’t about to argue with you. Instead, he simply nods. Forces an even, concessionary smile, leaning into a swift topic change. “You tired yet?”

“Yeah. Exhausted.” 

“Let’s lie down then, alright?” 

“Mmm.” You set the beads down so carefully on your nightstand that it constricts his chest, arranging them in a nest of tissue paper. “It’s just… I…”

“What?” 

He flicks off the lamp and you lay down on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan, the room now illuminated only by the distant glow of the motel’s neon sign across the lot. It bathes the room in a purple-tinged dark. When your voice comes back, it is small. “It’s just that I… I don’t want this night to end.” 

Santiago lays himself out, right next to you. “Then let’s try and stay awake, huh?” 

“Yeah. Let’s do that.” You shiver; then, instead of crawling beneath the scratchy comforter like he expects, you curl into his side. Rest your head against his chest. Santiago’s arms hover over you for a moment, as though he doesn’t know what to do. In actual fact though, it comes far too naturally to him. 

He wraps you in his arms, and begins to smooth one hand up and down your back - of course, being careful not to venture too low, even as you torque your body into his touch. 

You exhale against him. Hum, up against his bare, tan skin. Drape your arm over him, and, reliably, there is that knot again. That fist, tightening inside his chest. 

“Hey,” he croaks, voice smaller than it needs to be. “Birthday princess?” 

“Mmm.”

“Do you…?” 

“Do I what?” 

He hesitates. Stares coldly and contemplatively up at the ceiling fan himself now even as he bundles the warmth of you in his arms. “Do you believe in happy endings?”

He feels your breathy expletive fan over his chest. “Fuck. That’s a big one.”

“Sorry. Forget it, you don’t have to-“

“-No. I do,” you say with certainty. “I do believe in them.”

Santiago hopes that you can’t feel his heart thundering beneath the shell of your ear. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Except… not for people like us.” 

His brow tightens, mouth turning down at the corners. “Why not?” 

“Well,” you muse, wriggling pointedly until his hand - stopped dead with suspense - resumes its ministrations over your back, his fingers obediently seeking out the knots and notches until your airy hum sounds again. “Because our hands are too bloody now to build anything good. Right?” 

It’s strange because, right now, caressing you like this, he could almost forget that his hands are blood-soaked. Your touch is the only reminder he’s had in some time that his hands can indeed be loving. In fact, the whole concept of war feels so entirely incongruous to him while he’s holding you. Like it could not be further away, even though -in your lives- it is only ever around the corner. He pushes his response out from the depths of his chest. “Don’t you think that’s just a little bleak?” 

“I dunno.” You shrug, and he doesn’t enjoy how sad your voice grows . How old you somehow sound all of a sudden. “It’s just… They told us we’d be heroes, Santi. But… When was the last time you felt like one?”

You’re my hero, he thinks loudly, in the achingly quiet room; but, he catches the words before they make it out of his throat. In the end, nothing more than a small, reined-in grunt manages to escape. 

“Why do you ask, anyway?” 

Because you deserve one. More so than anyone he’s ever met, you deserve one. 

His fingers and the heel of his hand continue to massage the dink in your back, rooting out every source of tension. Learning how to take the pain apart for you like a weapon in his palm. “Dunno,” he lies. “The wedding. All that.” 

“Pfft. I give ‘em a month.” 

“You’re fucking brutal, you know that?”  

“And you’re hilarious. Shit. Happy fucking endings? Man. At this point, I think I’d settle for a happy middle, you know? Before I go down in my inevitable blaze of glory.”

“Don’t say that,” Santiago scolds, his voice taut. “I hate when you talk like that.” 

He doesn’t blame you. For being cynical or pessimistic - not really. Doesn’t blame you one bit. Not after you’d legitimately looked death in the face. He understands well enough what that can do to a person. How it can change them. How, even someone like you, who always saw a clear, bright path ahead, could begin to doubt the clarity of that vision. 

Absent-mindedly, you circle the pad of your forefinger in the valley of his pecs. “What about you, then? Do you believe in all that stuff? Marriage? Happy endings?” 

“Meh. Not so much,” he answers honestly, fissures in his voice. Maybe it is his ingrained Catholic guilt talking, but he certainly doesn’t feel like he deserves a happy ending. Not after the things he’s done. Not after all that blood.

“Then how about this, Santiago Garcia,” you begin, tone much more playful, like you’ve had a bright idea. “Would you settle for a lifetime of trouble-making with your ride or die?” 

You extend your pinky towards him for the most sacred of all vows, and he curls his own little finger around yours.

He intends his response to feel light-hearted. Equally playful. He really does. But, when the words escape his lips they are heavy. Dripping and weighed with sentimentality. “With you, honestly, it doesn’t really feel like settling.” He suddenly feels like someone is sitting on his chest. Like the air is scarce and sharp with some incendiary cloud - about to ignite and burn everything he’s known to the ground. 

“Kiss ass,” you poke lightly, and a wistful smile briefly dances across his features. 

“It’s only what you’re due.” 

“Oh?! A thorough ass-kissing?” 

“Sure. Maybe you can get Tommy-abs-on-his-dick-Nelson right on that.” 

You snicker chaotically. “Huh. Maybe.”

Santiago jostles you gently in his embrace. “Hey. Speaking of. Sorry you got lumbered with the sideshow tonight, by the way.”

“Fuck off, Pope,” you huff, like he’s just said something which causes deep offence. “Of all the chumps I couldda been stuck with, I’m glad it was you.” Santiago’s heart flutters, his chest blooming with a hazy, metered-out warmth when he hears you say those words. “Now. Wish me happy birthday one more time, and then sing me a damn lullaby, would you?” 

Santiago crushes his chin down to his chest to get a better look at you, having decided that you must surely be joking. “Huh?!” 

“We all knew about your guitar skills but you have a beautiful set of pipes too? Been holding out on me, Pope. Now, sing!” 

“Jesus. You’re demanding, Princesa.”

“It’s only what I’m due, right? Come on, I haven’t got all night, asshat!” Somehow, the derogatory term sounds imbued with a deep fondness somehow, and it blooms through him. 

“Alright. Alright. Keep your panties on.” Shit - you had better. 

“Thank you.” 

Santiago dips his chin so he can reach your hairline. Settles a chaste kiss there, which lingers a touch too long - but which he can’t possibly cut any shorter, his eyes closing as his lips brush your skin. “Happy birthday,” he breathes, completing part one of your demand. With any luck, he thinks, you might fall straight to sleep like this - before he even has to serenade you. 

He stills as your eyes flutter closed, listening out for the slowed pace of your breathing. That is, until you open one eye and whisper-hiss up at him. “Sing.” 

A resigned amusement twitches his plush lips and he finally obliges you. He begins softly speak-singing, hoping his soporific and sandy tones will lull you towards sweet dreams, his broad palm still sweeping up and down your back. 

“She gives me everything

And tenderly…” 

A soft smile graces your features as you note his song choice. “Cobain? You’re such an angsty little gremlin, you know that?” 

“I can stop at any time,” he threatens, teasingly. 

“No. No, please.” 

He clears his throat. Lets his voice grow a touch more full and resonant, despite it being scuffed by tiredness and smoke.

“The kiss my lover brings,

She brings to me-ee,

And I love her.” 

It is a little funny, at first. A little awkward; until suddenly, it isn’t . Until, suddenly, a weight settles in your brow. Until his voice begins to falter, cracking apart with emotion. 

He hadn’t been able to say it. Clearly not even to acknowledge it. 

He hadn’t been able to find the words to tell you what you mean to him. To explain the pit in him which had opened up when he’d almost lost you. Didn’t have the words to tell you you were the reason he’d prayed for the first time in ten years, pledging loyalty to a God he hadn’t believed in -hadn’t needed - until he was begging Him not to take you. He didn’t know how to describe the way it had felt for him to kneel by your bedside, his mother’s rosary beads clutched in his palm so tightly the cross has drawn blood - even as he’d openly cursed them for protecting him and not you, and had cursed you for the same. 

He swallows the hard, tight knot which has gnarled in his throat. Wonders if maybe he can stop, because singing feels like purging himself of far too much of the pain and love he has buried, and fuck, it hurts on the way out. 

He does consider stopping. That is, until your small, grief-laden voice sounds out as though it hurts you too; but that you need to hear what he is finally telling you. “Please. Don’t stop?” 

It is a question, this time, not a demand; and yet, Santiago couldn’t dream of denying you. 

And so, with a weight in his brow, he keeps on singing. 

“Bright are the stars that shine,

Dark is the sky. 

I know this love of mine,

Will never die.”

It is at this point his voice cracks wide open. It is at this point a single tear slips across the bridge of his nose as he sings it out loud. Something he’d known for a long time, in truth, but hadn’t quite found the words for:  

“And I love her.”

The room seems eerily still as you each hold your breath. He doesn’t know where to go from here - but luckily, you always seem to know the way forward. 

“You know,” you say softly, voice wet with emotion. “It’s a real shame. Because if you did believe in happy endings?” 

“Yeah?” His voice was barely above a whisper.  

“You’d look pretty good as somebody’s endgame, butthead.” 

An emotion Santiago can’t name twists through his middle, like he is being wrung out. Like his blood-soaked soul is finally being purged. It is no wonder then, that his words come out dripping red. Soaked in cynicism. With a disbelief that anything good -for him - is deserved. “Let’s get each other through the happy middle first,” he says, as hidden tears glitter on his long lashes. “Then maybe we’ll see about endings, huh?” 

You don’t speak for a moment. Simply swallow in the near-dark. But, it is not lost on him that you hold him just a shade tighter. Then, when he hears a gentle intake of breath from you, he knows your request before you even utter it. 

Please. 

He resumes his singing. Slower, more off tempo. Begins to repeat the lines, over and over, softer and softer, until your breathing is deep and soporific. Until your weight on him is heavier. Heavier from sleep, and heavier from this new knowledge he has gained. 

And, there it is. The end of the night, and yet Santiago cannot dream of sleeping. Not yet. Can only watch you, hold you, listen to your soft breathing, his heart full with a new understanding. And understanding he didn’t invite, but a welcome guest all the same. 

He resolves it then. Resolves that, even if he doesn’t deserve a happy ending, he will do everything in his power to make sure you get yours… 

Even if that means letting all hope of you -for him- go. 

So, as he cradles you in his arms and stares unsleeping up at the ugly ceiling fan, Santiago contemplates it. 

Contemplates in great detail the four days with you that irrevocably changed the course of his life. 

The day he met you.

The day he almost lost you. 

The day he realised he was in love with you. 

And the day he started running from that.

The first day had been two years ago, the second had been five months ago, the third had been today, and the fourth? 

The fourth will be tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, he will start running, because his feelings for you are far too deep and huge for him to handle. 

He doesn’t even pause to wonder whether he’ll ever allow himself to stop. After all, once Santiago Garcia has a mission, he accepts nothing less than completion. 

Maybe he’s no hero; but he always gets the job done. 

[boileddemon69]

BEN 10 UNSOLVED

Ben and friends (and sometimes enemies) join up to make a ragtag group of ghost hunters with the help of the Ectotrix; a device that allows the wearer to see and interact with ghosts!

Ben

Ben is an energetic 11 year old who's had a lifelong interest in the paranormal. He's pretty much the same as Classic Ben. Just switch out the sumo slammers obsession with ghosts! He's the self-proclaimed "leader" of the group, though he ends up getting them in more trouble than anything

Gwen

Gwen is practically the same as Classic gwen, though she shares the same paranormal interests as Ben. She's more interested in the spiritual side of it, obsessing over tarot cards and horoscopes. She helps guide Ben through figuring out which ghosts are good and which ones are out to get them LOL

Lucy

Lucy isn't an alien in this au, she's just an ordinary girl who just so happened to be visiting her cousins when Ben found the Ectotrix, now she's just along for the ride. She's kind of the shaggy of the group LOL

Cooper

Cooper's the nerd of the group (as expected). He helps build gadgets for everyone and even invented glasses the others can use to see the ghosts as well. He was skeptical at first, but after seeing some pretty convincing evidence, he agreed to join their group, while shaking and crying cuz he's a scaredy cat HAHAHA

Kevin

Kevin is the school bully. He's a grade above Ben and yet he's his number one target. He's a big ol jerk who thinks the group is dumb and tries to prove them wrong by going into a haunted house. When ben finds him he is like "okay yah no you were right what the hell" and now he's an occasional ally!! He still bullies ben, but they're starting to get along... sorta.

Jonesy

Jonesy is Bens tutor. He's the oldest of the group and joined against his will when he went looking for Ben and stumbled upon them fighting a ghost. Now he's getting dragged along with them even though all he wants to do it study for his history test.

Zs' Skayr

Zs' skayr is the big bad in this au! He's not an alien, rather the king of the undead. He wants to get his claws on the Ectotrix so that he can use it to take over the overworld and turn every living thing into his army of ghosts. He sends his groups of henchmen to attack Ben yet all of them are unsuccessful because they suck at their job lol

Albedo

Albedo was the assistant to Azmuth, a well-regarded scientist who mastered in answering the world wide question "what happens after we die?". After a scandal was revealed to the public, Azmuth went into hiding and framed Albedo, causing him to be imprisoned. After he dies, Zs'skayr recruits him and uses him to get the Ectotrix since he worked with the man who invented it. At one point, he disguises himself as Ben to infiltrate their group, but he gets caught and defeated (old man gets jumped by a bunch of preteens LMAOOO)

Azmuth

Azmuth was almost a celebrity in the science world back in the early 1900s. He was known for his thorough research on the topic of death and the existence of an afterlife. He created the Ectotrix, a device that could help someone interact with the undead. But after a private investigator exposed his rather devious experiments, he pushed all the blame on his lab partner and went into hiding after putting the ectotrix somewhere secret. (And then like a 100 years later some twerp digs it up out of his backyard.)

Anyways that's basically it for now, I'll make another lore post soon after I rattled my brain for more info but yeah BYEEE

[salemssimblr]

SIMS 4 CREATE -A-CULTIST CHALLENGE

Roll up, roll up, Baaph needs followers!!

I've been heavily inspired by a lot of the challenges I've seen floating around simblr, so I wanted to make this one in conjunction with my Cult of the Lamb obsession/render set.

The rules are simple, roll the dice indicated to build your cultist! I like to use google's dice roller and roll each die individually to avoid repeats!

& if you don't want to use the dice roll challenge guidelines, feel free to make a follower from your own imagination/inspo! The only real rule is to have funI

I've made a .PSD template (download here!) file for you to make a 'card' of your follower! I'll reblog all of them so please tag me! & after a while I want to make a master post of all of them together! (& if you can't use .pds there's a BLANK VERSION HERE!)

The fonts needed for the PSD are Distillery Display and Eczar Regular (linked for download!)

Feel free to include as much or as little backstory as you like with your cultist! They can be a cult elder, a disciple, a spouse, or a dissenter! It's all up to you!

If you're familiar with the game and this is enough info for you, go forth and create a follower! I can't wait to indoctrinate them! 😈🤣

If you're not, I've included more info below!

For those unfamiliar with the game, the objective is to build a cult to gain strength and power to release the god that's saved you from death.

Each new follower has a form (usually a monster or animal, but for this I've chosen animals), a color (ranging from normal neutrals to highlighter-bright colors), and a few traits that can be anything from zealous to coprophiliac.

They can be leveled up to become disciples. You can marry multiple at a time (but they'll get jealous). They can dissent and you have to throw them in jail.

It's a delight.

Here's an example of these cuties in game:

I tried to include the animals I knew I'd seen CC floating around for, but I'm also so intrigued to see what yall will come up with!

If you want more info for this challenge, there's a lot of useful information here!

Have fun!! Love y'all!

[halfetirosie]

🎠 Important info from the [Sleepless Fun Fair] PV! 🎠 (Reaction post)

1) 🚨🚨🚨 ALERT: KUYORB HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT!!!! 🚨🚨🚨

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Lemme tell you---when I first saw Kuyorb in the bag during the design reveal, I just----😭🙏

You know how I mentioned in Greenwood Miracle, when I saw Quincy's stubble, I could just FEEL the collective fandom losing their ever-loving minds?

THAT. That was how it felt to see the Kuyorb. ♡

And now the lil' freak has been freed! Say your prayers!!!

2) NOT THE COUPLES TEACUPS!!!!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

IT'S TOO CUTE, I WON'T SURVIVE!!!!

---and how Eiden's cup has (I assume) hot cocoa while Peepaw's has green tea, for his sensitive old-man taste buds...! (≧∇≦)

I have to wonder, though; in whatever room this is supposed to be, did Eiden provide the personalized cups, or did Kuya?? It's cute to think about either way, but I think it's cuter to think of Kuya magicking-up these cups with the catty excuse of, "so the young master doesn't foolishly mix up our drinks and steal my drink by mistake"---when really he just wanted to do cute couple things with Eiden. 😈

3) Not Olivine's background being my default home-decor style---

That Symbolism™ of the tiny Leopard-Eiden on the big Cat-Olivine is so goddamn CUTTEEEEE!!!!! FUCK!

4) Fucking hell, man---

OKAY, so of course, I love the adorable lil' fluff balls cuddled together on the present, in the Darling-snowman, and in the bag---

----WAIT. HOW AM I ONLY NOTICING NOW THAT BLADE'S BAG IS ONE OF THOSE SPECIAL POPCORN BUCKETS THAT THEY'VE BEEN MAKING FOR MOVIES RECENTLY?!?!?! 🤯🤯🤯

5) Fans: We want to see Kitsune-Kuya!

Devs: We have Kitsune-Kuya at home.

Kitsune-Kuya at home:

---I'm just kidding; I know they left out the real fox traits in this one probably just to have more variety in Kuya's cards. Can't be too samey-samey. I ain't mad.

This gesture of teasingly holding up the fox headband is sexy as hell.... (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝)

6) SAVE ME, MODERN-AU WINTER KUYA. MODERN-AU WINTER KUYA, SAVE ME. 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Kuya be lookin' fine as fuck in this more modern design, and I'm obsessed. Like, he always looks like the kind of man that will absolutely ruin your life (on-brand for him), but I think this design hits a bit different for me because the clothes are a little more "real."

Now it's like he's Mr. Ruin Your Life FOR REALSIES After Your Fateful Meeting At The Coffee Shop.

❤️❤️❤️❤️ _(´ཀ`」 ∠)

7) The lap-pillow, head-cradling, Eiden wearing Kuya's headband....

Lemme tell you, after the nightmare of Kuya's last R5, I am extremely pleased that we're getting a 💜Soft Kuya 💜 for this intimacy scene.

I hope that Kuya will be chill and 0% toxic for the entirety of this event, please and thank you. Gotta give me time to chill from all of the recent evil-writing!

8) HIS BIG OL' WAVE!!!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

It's giving such puppy energy, I'm having heart palpitations!!!!!!! ﮩـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

9) Blade is determined to rot my teeth with all of his sugary sweetness, dammit!!!!

This is, hands-down, my top favorite Blade outfit. Our mans got the pastel palette, stylish hat, peek-a-boo torn jeans and crop top, and accessorized to hell and back!!!!

Our Sweet Diet-Decora Prince!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

10) HAND-HOLDING HAND-HOLD HAND-HOLDING HAND-HOLDING HAND---

11) Honestly, it is so refreshing seeing Olivine purely just enjoying himself; letting himself indulge in this he was never allowed to growing up (shoutout to Olivine's shitty parents, I hate you guys). ( ´ ˘ ` )

ALSO, THE PROPHECY IS TRUE!!!! I PREDICTED MUSTACHE-OLIVINE!!!! 🤣🤣🤣

(JK obviously, but now this got me wondering about mustache-olivine even more....)

12) *Immediately gives his belly raspberries*

(Is it just me, or does anyone else think Olivine's hair looks nicer than usual in this SSR? Did he start using a new shampoo or something?)

13) YASSS, QUEEN!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉👏👏👏

WEAR THAT SEXY LINGERIE!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

It's so nice seeing Olivine out here, living his best life, going out of his way to wear some winter-themed lingerie---I think it's partly to rile up Eiden, but mostly as a kind of self-care. We love to see it!!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

🎠 End of report! 🎠