#still figuring out October's run details

[cielhunternorwood]

Life Sucks, Imma Talk About It

Not sure how many people actually follow after me on whatever sites at this point, but I feel like I need to get something out of my system. Firstly, about the lack of overall content lately. Outside of the Average Player videos, which are minimal at best, I've been stuck without much creative energy due to a lot of stress factors related to work.

From around December until mid- to late-March, I had a lot more work to handle at my job due to a lot of incompetent upper management over-stressing the mid-management who were working double time while the store manager was on leave from a medical procedure.

While I was bouncing between two stores to help out at first, I had to cut down to the original store due to just how excessive a lot of the demands were and how much I was basically the only reliable back-up for getting stuff done. While the plus side was that it gave me a lot of extra hours (which allowed me to buy a new, beefy desktop PC), it left me mentally exhausted and unable to really focus on anything creative.

Once the store manager began popping back in at reduced hours, though, the hours I worked went back to being absolute shit. This is, of course, bad for a lot of reasons I won't detail. However, it also put me into a realization that I'm being singled out by the store manager for whatever reason. You know that feeling of how you're treated like shit so you quit instead of get fired? It's like that.

Well, all that came to a head when the manager of the other store, someone I knew very well from my last job and helped me get the job here in the first place, flat-out quit last week. While I'm happy he chose to leave, given how much hell they put him through, it does cut off an easy means of getting more hours by helping out at the other store.

Adding on that previous plans of moving to another state to be with someone were canned thanks to the heavy hours of working giving me little prep time, I've not been in a very pleasant position overall mentally.

Most of all, the laptop I have been using up until now has been such a piece of shit in doing anything marginally laborious, which is doubly infuriating with the fact that I was "forced" to use it for gaming due to the Windows 10-only thing for a bunch of games that would run just fine on my old desktop.

And last, but not least, is that the forced necessity of living with my mentally-unstable and deranged mother has gotten worse in that she retired in December, leaving me with basically no time to be alone and free in the house.

This has all culminated in a huge dogpile of stress that has made it difficult to focus on anything remotely creative for some time now. The fact that I spent over $2k on a new PC, while necessary for what I want to do in the future, is still pretty stressful due to an uncertain money situation.

My hope has been, though, that being able to have a devoted gaming PC again will let me revert laptop usage to its original intent: creative shit. So far, it's kind of worked out, though I've basically had to give myself time to mentally relax beyond just playing video games.

The reason I decided to bring all this up now is that, well, a huge storm rolled through and knocked out power for long enough that I had to slow myself down and not expect to do anything for well over a day. The morning after it happened, I ended up setting a chair on the back porch and began reading.

That moment of quiet peace and reading turned into a much larger slowdown than I thought, and it kind of gave me time to think about what the hell's been going on in my life, while I've been rushing about trying so hard to get things done.

So, hopefully I can get my shit together soon, now that I've kicked myself out of the big rush I forced myself into the past few months. I wouldn't expect much in the writing department, since I have a lot of background stuff to work out, but I also want to find a decent hosting site for this stuff. I left Inkitt before they went AI-crazy, and I'm not sure about posting anything on Wattpad in the event I want to publish.

Expect some more shitposting in the meantime, to get some creativity flowing. I do really miss photoshopping silly things together, even if only a few people seem to enjoy them.

[cowboydisaster]

Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world. 

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special. 

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut. 

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist. 

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand. 

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face. 

“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen. 

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response. 

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly. 

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller. 

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask. 

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask. 

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him. 

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon. 

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck. 

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him. 

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back. 

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better. 

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest. 

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up. 

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago. 

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment. 

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence. 

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Instinct 

Beast World!AU- If you know nothing about Beast World, that is okay! This is essentially Werewolf!Jason Todd. I don't think I've written something like this before, so if it's bad, it was still fun to try and write. Honestly, this is kinda practice for when October rolls around because I have ideas. ~1.3k words

Jason Todd knows he should be in this cage. He's not quite himself, claws where there should be fingers and fangs where there used to be teeth. He's faster, stronger, larger. His senses are sharper. His body tends to react on instinct before he really knows what he's doing. 

So, yes, being behind six inches of polycarbonate ballistic glass in the Batcave is probably a good idea. 

If he could still speak, he'd tell you how good it is to see you everyday. Something about seeing you work around the Batcave on a cure, seeing you sit outside his cage and talk to him, is calming. He misses being able to answer you, misses being able to touch you, but it's still nice to hear your voice. 

It keeps him from pacing along the walls or scratching at what's left of the bedding. 

He's watching you now, head resting on his hands- uh, paws, now- as you push food for him through the small opening in his cell. 

He is hungry. He always seems to be hungry. There's an itch under his skin for something more, to be back in the streets of Gotham with blood on his muzzle. You always seem to make that feeling go away. He tracks you as you smile at him and turn to leave. He just needs to have you in his vision. There's no explanation other than this situation is better when you're here, when you're focused on him. 

He knows your smell, your scent, even through the glass separating him from the outside world, he knows. Jason has trouble, sometimes, remembering how he knows you. Whatever's made him sick, made him this thing, messes with his thoughts. But even his base instincts know you're special, something to be kept close. 

It doesn't really matter what you are to each other, he knows enough. How could he ever forget the feeling of you in his arms? Every memory of you is ingrained in every cell of his body; he just knows. Knows how you look when you laugh, how your tears feel against the pads of his thumbs. 

So even if the details come and go, you're a constant. The only reason he's even putting up with this cage. 

His ears perk up when Dick comes into view. He lets out a huff at the wave Dick gives him, and turns his focus back to you.

Jason doesn't really listen to what you're talking about, processing words isn't as easy as it used to be, but he lifts his head when Dick leads you down to the training mats.

The fur on the back of his neck raises when you start throwing punches at each other. 'Training. It's just training,' he tells himself. But all rational thought flies out the window when you hit the ground. He slams into the glass. Slams into it again as it cracks. Rams his body into the glass a third time as it finally breaks and splinters around him. 

You're worried about Jason. Everyone is. Gotham is in chaos, filled with humans turned animals from a disease no one’s figured out how to cure yet. It makes your stomach twist, to see him locked in a cage, unable to voice what he wants or how he's feeling. You spend more time than not in the Batcave now, talking to him, playing music while you work on trying to cure him.

You know Jason's still in there. You can tell in the way he tilts his head at you, barks out laughs at the stories you tell. But you also know he's not all there. 

Sometimes his eyes seem to glow, his gaze will change into something feral as he stalks back and forth. He growls when people get too close to the glass, digs his claws into the fabric littered throughout his cage. 

"You need a break," You look up as Dick's voice cuts into your thoughts.

"I know, but I'm close to something. I can feel it," You tell him, eyes darting to the computer running your latest analysis. 

Dick glances over at the screen, "Looks like you still have some time on that. Why not spar with me? Get some energy out?"

You think on it, then nod, "Yeah, sure."

Dick grins like it's the best thing he heard all day as he leads you down to the training area, "Better not go easy on me." 

You laugh, putting your hands up in a practiced fighting stance, "As long as you don't go easy on me."

Sparring with Dick does actually turn out to be the break you needed. It's almost relaxing to let yourself go on autopilot, dodging his punches and throwing your own in return. 

It happens before you realize, that he's hooked his ankle behind your knee. You hit the mat and exhale sharply, making a face at Dick as he grins down at you. He opens his mouth, probably to throw out some remark about having your head in the game, when the sound of glass shattering makes you whip your head towards Jason's cage. 

Two-hundred plus pounds of fur and sharpened canines are charging at you.

"Shit," Dick says your name, steps in front of you, but it doesn't do any good when Jason snarls and shoves him to the side. 

You barely have time to get a noise out before he's barreled into you, crushing you to his chest and turning to face Dick with a growl.

You sputter out a mouth full of fur, squirming to try and move back. Jason only crouches lower to the ground and holds you tighter. 

"Jason, hey, they're not hurt, okay? We were just sparring. No one's in danger." You hear Dick trying to soothe Jason, but you're more distracted by the rumbling of his chest against your face. 

You push lightly at him, "Jason, it's okay."

He falls quiet. 

Jason knows you're not hurt. Knows Dick wouldn't actually put you in danger. But that didn't stop him from breaking out of his cell. (He really could have done that at any time, but how else would he see you?) 

He carefully lets go of you, but keeps his body angled between you and Dick. It's not his fault his brain is screaming that you're in danger. That he should killkillkill anything that threatens you. You're not fragile by any means, but you're so precious. He should be protecting you, not separated from your side by glass. 

"Jason," your voice interrupts his thoughts, and he angles his head to look at you. You're sitting down and patting your lap. He tilts his head. "Come here, it's okay."

You sound relaxed, even if your heart rate is elevated, and he finds himself wanting to listen. He drops to the ground, keeping Dick in his line of sight as he rests his head against your legs. 

He notes your hesitation before you start petting his head and scratching his ears. He leans happily into your touch. This is what he was missing. He pushes his head against your stomach, wanting you to keep going. Jason doesn't miss the look you give Dick, or the helpless shrug he offers back. 

It's not like anyone can stop him from being where he wants. He won't let anyone get close enough to sedate him. And he certainly won't go back in a cage now he knows how nice your hand is against his fur. 

No, he'll stay by your side until whatever cure you're working on is done. It'll be nice, he thinks as he cuddles into your side, for both of you. He'll be able to keep you warm, keep you safe. And if there isn't a cure? You'll never have to worry about any of the infected. He won't let anyone near you. 

[snaccpopstudios]

Long time, no see, Tumblr!

Hello Everyone! It’s been a while, and we’re so sorry about the silence on our blog! But we have some big, important updates to share with you all. The entire team has been extremely busy with both personal, real-life responsibilities and with game production! On top of this, we have also had a big change in management and production, so we’ve been getting a handle on that at the same time.

I’ll start this by stating that I’m Tobias (he/him), the new social media and community manager, and I’ll be bringing this update to you all! And, all Patreon links provided (minus the ones near the end) are public posts, so you don’t need to be subscribed to a tier to view them, but you still need to be 18+! Now, this goes a bit back, so get a warm drink and get comfy to read this big post because if you haven’t been on the Twitter or Patreon, you’ve missed quite a lot (which is on us entirely! We’re sorry again!) In September 2023, we released a few screenshots on our Patreon showing off some script revisions for the demo of “Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.” (read them + the update more in detail here!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sunny-day-jack-90099502) As stated in that post, “A lot of grammatical errors, run-on sentences, etc.. are also being combed out in favor of: - Content that foreshadows future events in the game - Content that is easier to read - And content that more clearly portrays the rules, lore, and restrictions of the supernatural/horror elements in this world

Additionally, more content in general, will be added. Not a substantial amount, but enough to flesh out scenes and make things make more sense now that the world/game has been almost completely outlined.” This post was met with a lot of confusion, as SDJ fans mentioned that they feared the game was being toned down from its original concept. And while our re-writes do actively remove dialogue that unintentionally may be perceived as dubious consent or pressuring the player into sexual/romantic choices, there are no intentions to remove yandere/horror content! We cleared this all up in another Patreon post; a small QnA (here’s that one, again, more in detail!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-yandere-is-to-91034309). 

You may be saying “But Tobias! On the Kickstarter, it said there was soft, dubious consent!” And yes, that is true. However, as stated in the 2nd link provided, Our publisher at the time, Project Enso, originally put that warning up. Sauce (they/them) was not happy with that, but PE properly explained that people who were uncomfortable with the infamous "No Route" hadn't had that warning, and thus felt surprised.

This twitter post was the beginning of Sauce’s quest to remove that warning. (https://x.com/SunnyDayJack/status/1560782320533118976?s=20)

[Disclaimer: PE had nothing to do with the writing of the content. They just had to do what was safest!]

Now, you may have noticed that at the beginning of this post, I mentioned a big change in management. In a post made on Patreon in late October 2023, we got introduced to our new Director, Biscuit (she/her)! She’s previously made devlogs on the Patreon, but she’s since been made the Head of Operations for SnaccPop! These are big and important posts, so I really recommend reading them (as well as the previous posts I’ve linked) in their entirety on the Patreon! - Status Update: New leadership, steps moving forward, future of SnaccPop: https://www.patreon.com/posts/status-update-of-91558879 - Q&A: Project Enso departure, AphroDesia, Deadlines and more: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-project-enso-91850042

But the main points of these two posts above are, 

Sauce will no longer be taking a management role at SnaccPop anymore. Instead, they will take a much necessary backstep to focus solely on creating art and supporting the studio through their continuous work.

The studio has Biscuit as its front-facing figure, but she will be helped out by Perrie (she/her, our current Voice Acting director), Nana (she/her, our current Art director), and other individuals who are key to keeping the content going smoothly at a decent pace. 

SWWSDJ is no longer being released as a full game in November 2024, and is now having Episodic Releases! (Acts 1, 2, 3, and 4)

The Patreon rewards will remain entirely the same. Sauce, as it has been said before, will keep working with us all the way!

Some of you may be wondering what happened with Project Enso and why we parted ways with them, you can read their parting message here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/official-from-92484578

We want to say thank you to Project Enso for all the great work they did for us, however, we believe this decision is the best next step forward to make Sunny Day Jack as best of a game as it can be.

Now, onto some fun stuff! Speed round!

An AphroDesia Game?! The customer is always right! But that doesn't mean that they're necessarily pleasant to deal with…   Available to our $10+ Patreon supporters, you can play a demo of the upcoming mini dating-sim featuring our beloved cutie-pie, TMon, called “ConciUrges.” Featuring 4 endings, two of which are NSFW!

Bachelor of the Month is back! We’re introducing our new icy, and first plus-sized bachelor for the month of December, Jacob Frost (who’s voice has yet to be revealed, but his look has been!) He’s draped out in front of a cozy fireplace, waiting for you to get to know him for $5+~

Another SDJ Demo? You betcha! We understand that there's been lots and lots of content for Sunny Day Jack, and that includes multiple demos that we've released in the past. However, we want to release one last demo. One that includes our new artstyle and script changes that reflect our ideology much more clearly so there aren't any doubts as we move into the future. The release date is TBD!

WE'RE HIRING!! Are you an 18+ NSFW writer and/or an audio engineer? Then you're the person(s) for us! Apply for the position(s) on the Patreon post or the Twitter post!  THE POSISTION IS ONLY FOR THOSE 18+. PROOF OF AGE WILL BE REQUIRED.

Project: DramaBoy As stated in the above linked posts in #5 (more in detail on the Patreon link!) We’re starting up a new project, Project: DramaBoy! As an explanation to non-paying patrons who may have missed our upload of our first teaser (Impish BF Surprises You on Christmas),  we'll be looking to release (hopefully) weekly NSFW and SFW POV Boyfriend audios! Sometimes they'll include characters you know and love-- such as Jambee or Sunny Day Jack. However-- sometimes, they'll include interesting beta concepts voiced by the same VAs from our mainstay projects! Read all about it and see the SLIVER of the list of BFs we’re planning to bring you at https://www.patreon.com/posts/project-dramaboy-94652067 (available to read for free!)

That's all for this update! We know it's lengthy and long overdue, so thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to read! ^_^

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Look into the future

Some people prefer to be surprised with what expects them in the future, some would give anything to know every little detail. How bad that Ritsu doesn't have a choice.

Wc: 1,3k

Cw: you two have children so implied pregnancy

Rather than the usual time travel child the boy goes into the future

“Ritsu~” a familiar sweet voice reaches his ears but he still doesn't manage to get his eyes open and his head off of the soft pillow, the pull it had on him stronger than his will “c'mon, Ritsu, dear, your alarm already went off, don't you have a meeting with a client at 8?” the thumb brushing hair from his cheek and his supposed work meeting finally forcing him to open his eyes, even if still a little out of it yet quickly pulling himself together when he sees your face first.

Jumping with his back straight, he looks at your face, mimicking his expression, eyes wide and mouth agape. Your eyes are lined with soft expression wrinkles and longer hair tied into a comfortable low bun “is it that time already?” the hand that was on his cheek retracts towards your chest, almost unsure if he would still allow you to touch him. For a second there is a smidge of annoyance deep in Ritsu’s stomach, the way your hand moved away as if touching hot iron didn't really settle down nicely, even if he didn't recognize it yet.

“Honor roll student?... what is going on?” thoughts run through his head about work and about how the bed isn't like the one he is used to in Darkwick but for some reason the inside of his head felt as if it was filled with cotton, not one though managed to stick around for longer than a second before swiftly being exchanged for the dull pressure pushing against his forehead or the ringing in his ear.

Sitting up from his side, he assumes you are walking to the door “I will reschedule your meeting, I will explain when I return, alright?” you mumble softly -or could it be that he hears it as softly as a whisper because of the ringing?- before closing the door and shrouding the room in soothing darkness again, the pain settled between his eyebrows almost null now.

Not long after, he can hear your muffled voice through the walls speaking with what he assumes is his supposed client, some excuses of high fever or something like that. Being relieved from his duty, even if he didn't remember booking, he allows himself to close his eyes yet refuses to fall back asleep, waiting for your answer.

Light seeps inside the room after the door whines softly but he doesn't think much of it, assuming it was you at first but rather he hears whispers from behind it.

“Papa still didn't leave to work” a somewhat clumsy voice speaks to someone besides them.

“Papa is sleeping? Weirddd he always leaves before we even wake up” a similar childish voice answers.

“Is he sick? But he doesn't look like it”

Soon your voice chimes at them, making them gasp as if they were caught red handed “You two! Stop snooping around. Go eat breakfast, your dad is tired” the pitter patter getting softer makes him guess the children scurried away.

Now fully opening the door your figure appears causing him to sit up again. Against the light he can see your hands holding a yellowed letter “this is what you prepared for this situation, I guess you would understand yourself best” is what you say before leaving it awkwardly on the nightstand “if you want, after reading it you can join us to breakfast”

On October 24 at 7:04 hrs there was a breached anomaly in campus that caused individuals to switch places with various versions of themselves, see Appendix for itemized list of students affected and their counterpart before continuing.

Swiftly looking over the one page copy with the surnames N-T, because of the numeration at its foot it's easy to see that it was the third of four pages. Ritsu finds his name and a small note about his counterpart being ten years into the future.

At the time of writing this, I have gone 10 years into the future and returned to my timeline in two to three days. I have been advised by the chancellor to write a reassuring letter and store it in case of similar incidents happening to myself at the same date.

If you are reading this and are Ritsu Shinjo, a first year student of Sinostra, it's likely the same incident happened. At this time I got married with the second year student and business partner at the time, yn, and have two children, Taiho and Yoro. It would be recommended that when you return to your time this information isn't divulged to avoid possible changes.

Attentively, Ritsu Shinjo

Slowly and carefully reading and rereading each sentence again and again he can't help but think it is a joke, regardless of how difficult it might be to age you with makeup, move him to another bed in another room all together or the voice of children even when darkwick doesn't allow anyone under 18 or the most concerning of all the perfect copy of signature.

Now wide awake with concern Ritsu starts walking around the room, looking around to find something familiar only to get more and more proof that the situation described in the letter was true. A small silver band next to where the envelope rests; a family photo he supposes? It's both of you and identical twins with a snowy mountain as the background, the fact that both had his mother's eyes wasn't lost on him; and, what shocked him the most, a small photo of your wedding reception, taken just in time when you grabbed his forearm and kissed him.

Slowly coming to terms with his new temporal situation and the revelation of his future, he sits down again on the white vanity to slow his heartbeat. Allowing his eyes to wander around the surface, the soft shines of coloured glass bottles filled with perfumes. Some woody and heavier fragrances resembling the ones he would use and others he supposes are your own, did you always wear that type of perfume? He doesn't remember smelling you, or even getting close enough to be able to.

He leaves that train of thought as soon as he catches something moving from the vanity's mirror, watching closer he sees two heads peeking from the side of the bed, the top of their heads bobbing up and down as they giggle.

“Taiho? Yoro?” He asks tentatively, wondering if what was described in the letter was right, but two smiling children start dashing out of the room.

Hearing the commotion you chime at them again “I told you two to leave your dad to sleep!”

Deciding to finally drag himself out of the room, Ritsu follows the noisy tv, looking around trying to piece together the floor plan, it's a living and kitchen separated by a marble island, some toys thrown around the floor and two sets of elementary school uniforms forgotten on the backrest of the sectional couch. Not far from there, on the coffee table rest two plastic bowls with remains of milk and cereals, the two children they belonged to now laying down on the rug and watching TV

“Coffee?” you asked even though you were handing him already a freshly brewed cup. Without thinking it much he grabs it and sips, just like he liked it “did you finish reading?” he simply nods “if you have any doubts you can ask me, my husband truly made sure to prepare me in case he?... You returned?” Soon you choose your seat around the dinner table and eat your breakfast, ready for the many questions your husband coached you to answer.

[darknightsblog]

Dark Nights DLC F.A.Q

1. Will the WHOLE story be changed? Like different arts and all? Will be old art still be there? The whole story will NOT be changed. Both Roya and Chain's route follow the same plotline as the main game. You will view the story from their perspective and discover details never shown before. I did rewrite the prologue, but just changed minor details and order of events. The LIs from the main game will appear again and they have side roles. I changed the art, but the characters have the same personality and background story. Old sprites can be viewed in the main game. Their range of expressions is limited so I prefer not adding them at all. Some of the background art is the same. You'll find a lot of new locations like Roya's room and Chain's basement.

2. Will my save files be reset? 

The DLC is going to be a new game file. I realized it's very complicated to program old and new elements in the same script. To make things easier, see this as a separate game. You have to start over because everything is new. The prologue alone has 5 choice menus.

3. I actually play this game using Joiplay on mobile so wanted to know if that still be possible?

I plan to add the DLC on Steam so people with Steam Deck can play it. Regarding a mobile app, I'm not sure yet. I have to figure out how to add it to the app store and import the files to joiplay. It takes time and I would appreciate any guides on how to do it. This whole project is run by 1 man, so please bear with me.

4. Will there be ways to download old versions of the game?

The old (main) game is forever available to download for free. I won't remove it from any platform. You can enjoy the old stories and art to your heart's desire! Upon many requests, I will add a patch with the new sprite art. In settings you can switch back and forth between old & new sprites. Old CGs won't be updated, so it may look a bit disconnected.

5. When is the release date?

Originally, I planned to release it on October 31st 2024 (Dark Night's anniversary) but it's no longer feasible. I still have to draw 8 background illustrations, 18 CGs, code all sprites & the script. On top of that, I'm working on a 2D animated opening video. In October, I have 2 conventions planned overseas. It's impossible to finish all of this work in merely 2 weeks of free time. On October 31st, I'll post an update of my progress and schedule!

[anna-scribbles]

can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?

ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.

i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy

all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.

i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?

adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.

how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?

and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?

i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.

as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.

it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now

ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.

thank you for asking!! mwah<3

[lilpunkrock]

Black Silk

Status: One-Shot

Pairing: Jack Russell x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.8k+

AN: There is a heartwrenching lack of Jack Russell content on Tumblr, so I'm here to throw my hat in the ring. Enjoy a whole lot of fluff and, yes, sensual sniffing with everyone's favorite wolf boy.

Read my other Jack Russell works here and here.

Translations:

"Cautivante" — "captivating"

"Mi amada" — "my darling," "my love"

"Señorita" — equivalent of "miss"

"Lo siento" — "I'm sorry"

. . .

When you see the dark figure walking along the side of the bustling highway, you’re sure it’s for the first time. After all, you’ve been driving this route every day for years now; you know it like the back of your hand. In your swiftly moving car—hey, so what if you like driving six miles over the speed limit at all times, sue you—you aren’t able to catch many details. A dark outfit and mop of ruffled hair is all that your mind absorbs in the brief moment you have to gather information. As you fly past, your eyes linger on the figure in your rearview mirror.

Are they lost? Having car trouble? Homeless? Your heart clenches as you watch several other cars pass up stopping for the stranger in addition to your own. You’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know some core rules to live by. Sure, none of them explicitly stated, ‘Don’t pick up strangers off the side of the highway,’ but you felt you could gather as much from context clues. Still, as the figure’s form grows smaller in your mirror, you find yourself heaving a reluctant sigh. It’s unusually cold for late October—under forty currently, with a low of twenty-nine degrees expected tonight—and the sun will set in just a handful of hours. If you’re driving with your seat warmers on, you know the stranger must be freezing. You don’t think they were even wearing a coat. 

After you’ve pulled off the side of the road, you throw the gear in reverse to close the distance between yourself and your stranger. The figure stops in the glow of your red tail lights, anticipating your approach. When you’re several feet away, you throw the vehicle in park, grab your bottle of pepper spray, and slip out of the car before you can change your mind.

The face that greets you when you turn around is…endearing. Your stranger is a middle-aged man with warm-toned skin, a prominent nose, and a strong, square jaw. His salt-and-pepper hair looks like it’s been freshly touseled, complimenting the dark shadow of stubble along his jaw. His green eyes are wide as he stares at you, his pale pink lips parted in surprise.

Standing here with his startled eyes upon you, you suddenly feel incredibly awkward. Maybe he didn’t want to be helped. Maybe he was perfectly fine walking on the side of the highway. Then, a frigid wind whisks past you, cutting right through your cashmere sweater, and you decide no, there was no way. This guy was dressed in nothing more than a plain black crew neck sweater and dark jeans. It was impossible for him to not be freezing.

“Uh, hi,” you greet him awkwardly with a small, sheepish wave. “I’m sorry, I know this is really abrupt, but I just saw you walking on the side of the road and…aren’t you freezing?”

The stranger’s eyebrows jump upward in surprise. He looks down at his clothes as if wondering to himself, ‘Should I be cold?’ He lifts his head to look at you again. “Uh, no. I’m not, actually.” His voice is soft, lilting slightly with a distinct accent. He offers you a small smile. There’s something about the slight crook of his teeth on the upper left hand side of his mouth that melts the awkwardness from your bones. “I guess you could say I’m pretty warm blooded. I always run a little on the hot side.” 

You nod thoughtfully, though you really can’t fathom how he’s not freezing his ass off right now. “Okay. Well, why are you walking out here? Where are you coming from?”

“Ah, my friend and I recently moved here. I live just that way,” he explains with enthusiasm, pointing one hand toward the expansive forest sprawling off the side of the highway. 

Your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. You’ve lived in this area all your life, have spent countless weekends walking the trails in those very woods. You know no one lives within them. Is he homeless, then? you wonder. Deeming it rude to pry, you instead respond, “Oh, okay. Well, is there anywhere you want me to take you?” 

The stranger’s eyebrows raise again, as if this thought had never occurred to him. “Actually, I was just walking to town to get coffee for my friend and I. Once a month we have a bit of…a, uh…a wild night, you could say. I was trying to get prepared before dark.”

You purse your lips, debating on how to give him the bad news. He definitely must be new to the area. “Well, I hate to tell you this, mystery man, but you’re moving away from town.” You point your finger in the opposite direction of where he was walking, back toward where you’d driven from. “Town is about twenty minutes that way.”

The stranger’s face falls at your words. Something about the tender disappointment in his expression reminds you of a kicked puppy. Your heart clenches at the sight. “Oh,” he says softly, seemingly at a loss for words. 

You offer him a friendly smile, seeking to lift his spirits. “I could drive you, if you wanted.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have time to contemplate them. What the fuck? the logical, true-crime-podcast-obsessed part of your mind hisses. Your pitiful heart pushes back, still insistent on helping this poor, coffee-needing, puppy-esque man. 

The stranger’s eyes brighten for a moment, glimmering a brilliant shade of grassy green. But then he lifts his hands, as if in apology. “That is very kind of you, señorita, but I must decline. I really need to be back before dark.” His voice is slightly anxious as he raises his hand to scratch behind one ear. 

Señorita. Your heart melts slightly at the word. Why were accents always so damn endearing? You shake your head at him. “Nonsense. If you need to be back before dark, that’s all the more reason for me to take you. You’ll never make it back in time on foot.” 

The stranger seems to weigh this hefty truth, nibbling his bottom lip in thought. The crook in his teeth peeks out at you adorably. Staring is rude, you chastise yourself, tearing your eyes from the sight. After a long moment of hesitation, he gives a slow nod. “Alright, you’ve got me. I thank you for your generosity.” 

You give him a wide, toothy grin, beckoning him back toward your vehicle. As he climbs into the passenger seat, you quirk an eyebrow at him expectantly. “No thanks needed, mystery man. I will, however, require payment in the form of your name.” 

The stranger gets to work making himself comfortable, burrowing his back into the warmth of the heated seat. He peers at you out of the corner of his eye at your question, watching you curiously. After a long moment, his lips draw into a slow smile. “Jack. Jack Russell,” he says quietly with a nod of affirmation. 

Your lips upturn slowly, mirroring his. “Well, Jack Russell, it’s nice to meet you. Now, let’s go get you that coffee.” 

. . .

The more you observe your new friend during your drive, the more convinced you are that his spirit animal would be a dog. Jack rides with his high cheekbone pressed against the window, his green eyes bright and curious. The radiant, warm-toned fall foliage passes by in a blur outside, along with birds, cars, and road signs. His eager eyes flicker about, taking in all of it in rapid succession. Your heart flutters at the earnesty in his gaze, the bone-deep contentment in his expression. If picking up this handsome, puppy-eyed stranger off the side of the highway was how you became the subject of one of your true crime podcasts…well, so be it. 

Several quiet minutes into your drive, you clear your throat quietly, seeking to break the silence. “So, Jack, where are you from?”

Jack’s gaze lingers on a small cluster of deer grazing beside the treeline before he draws his eyes to you. When he does, his gaze is all-consuming, attentive. Having grown up in a world with constant sources of distraction, the sheer intensity of his focus on you is startling. “I have lived in many places, actually. I typically do not stay in one space for too long. My work keeps me busy.” 

Your heart clenches slightly at his admission, and you mentally chastise yourself for it. Why be disappointed that he doesn’t stick around? It wasn’t as if you were liable to see him again, anyway. “Oh, I see. Well, what do you do for work?” 

A heavy pause. “I hunt monsters,” he says seriously. 

His words hang in the air for a long moment, suspended. Then, your abrupt laughter fills the car. Sure, the two of you might live in a world of spidermen, aliens, and tech genius superheroes, but you had never heard of any monsters. Jack gives you a cheeky grin, the quiet rumble of laughter in his throat joining in with yours. “Ah, a comedian, then,” you comment, shooting him a knowing glance. “And your friend? What do they do?” 

Jack’s eyes turn to the ceiling of your car, that warm grin still plastered on his face. “I suppose you could say we’re a traveling duo,” he says simply. 

You shake your head incredulously, a soft chuckle purring in your throat. You’re inclined to pry more, but think better of it. After all, you’d only asked for his name in payment for the ride, not his entire life story. “You said you had a wild night planned. What are you up to?” 

Jack’s olive green eyes turn to you again, dancing in the low light of the late-afternoon sun. His cheeks are flushed pink from the warmth of the car. “We’re going to…watch the moon,” he responds. 

Now, that one makes you deadpan. “Watch the moon,” you echo, eyebrows lifting in surprise. 

Jack only hums in response, affixing you with a closed-mouth smile and a self-satisfied gaze. His eyes twinkle in challenge, as if to say, ‘You don’t believe me?’ You pin him with a knowing look and a smirk of your own as you flick your blinker on, turning into the approaching Walmart parking lot. “Alright, mystery man, keep your secrets,” you say with a laugh. “We’re here. Let’s get you that coffee so you can get on to your…moon watching.” 

Pulling into the first parking spot you see, you turn off the car and exit it swiftly, Jack following quickly behind you. Though nightfall is a little over an hour off, you want to be conscientious of his need to get home before dark, especially if he was going to be trekking through the woods. As you walk toward the grocery entrance, Jack’s head moves on a swivel, taking in the sight of customers coming to and from the building like a kid in a candy store. Lost in thought, he nearly walks directly into an elderly woman pushing her cart toward her car. Jumping back just in time, he murmurs a sheepish, “Lo siento,” and bows his head in apology before shuffling after you. An amused chuckle rises up in your throat, and you trap it behind a smile. 

As the two of you approach the grocery entrance, you spy the familiar sight of a Girl Scout’s booth set up just outside. A young girl, likely not even ten-years-old, stands beside the booth, her scout’s sash displayed proudly over the thick coat she wears. She bravely steps forward as customers enter and exit the store to give her brief sales pitch. Your heart aches at the crestfallen expression on her face when customers respond with gentle denials. Your hand is dipping into your purse before you even realize it, your fingers clasping onto your wallet. 

“Hi,” you say kindly as you and Jack come to a stop beside her booth. She turns toward you quickly, all bouncy black curls and brown doe eyes. You give her a radiant smile as you hold out a handful of bills. “I’ll take a box of Tagalongs and Adventurefuls, please. And you can keep the change.” 

The girl positively beams at you as she accepts your money with tentative fingers. When she places the boxes in your hands moments later, you add with a wide smile, “Thank you so much. You have no idea how you just made my day.” 

Tagalongs and Adventurefuls in tow, you and Jack walk into the store with purpose in your step. As your eye searches for the aisle marker labeled ‘Coffee,’ you can’t help but notice Jack staring at you out of the corner of your eye. At first, you think it’s just a momentary glance, but when you still spy his face turned toward you after several seconds of walking, you turn to look at him fully. He’s pinning you with the same thoughtful gaze as he had in the car, all closed-lipped smiles and twinkling eyes. As if he’s collecting observations of you and bottling them up, studious impressions reserved for him and him alone. 

Suddenly acutely self-conscious, you give him a nervous smile. “What is it?” you ask, voice quiet with hesitation. 

Jack’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he dips his head to his chest, his eyes never straying from yours. “You are very kind, señorita. Helping strangers as you do.” His voice is soft and earnest, each word carefully crafted and caressed as they pass the curve of his pink lips. He seems to smile a little wider as he adds, “Myself included.” 

Your lips part slightly in surprise at his statement, heat flushing your cheeks in a rush. Was it hot in this Walmart or what? You’d need to tell a manager that the thermostat was a little off if you spotted one. “Well, I’m definitely not perfect, but the world desperately needs more kindness. I try to do what I can,” you say bashfully. Seeking to divert the focus of conversation from yourself, you fix him with a knowing gaze. “You seem like a pretty nice guy yourself.” 

Jack chuckles quietly at you, turning his olive green eyes to the aisle signs overhead. “You are too generous to this stranger, señorita. I try to be as kind as I can. I struggle once in a full moon, but I suppose we all do.” 

You giggle good-naturedly at his slip. “You mean once in a blue moon?”

Jack’s lips part slightly, his expression one of genuine surprise. However, it lasts only a moment. He quickly gives you a sheepish grin, raising a hand to scratch hastily behind his ear. A nervous tick, you supposed. “Uh, yes, right. Of course.” 

Within moments, you find yourself alongside the coffee aisle. You dip into it swiftly, Jack following only a step behind. You come to a stop in the center of the coffee section, a wide array of possibilities available before you. “So, what kind are you looking for?” you ask expectantly. 

Jack’s eyes rove over the options quickly, seemingly seeing everything and nothing at once. His dark brows knit inward as he admits, “I…I’m not sure. My friend, Ted, normally gets the coffee. I haven’t any idea what I am looking for.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise. If this man had no idea what type of coffee to get, there was only one way to proceed. “Black Silk,” you say matter-of-factly. 

Jack turns to you slowly, confusion pinching his handsome features. “Black silk?” he echoes, the words rolling off his tongue without recognition. 

You nod wholeheartedly, eyes imploring and earnest. If there was one way you could truly help this man today, it would be this. “Yes. Folgers’ Black Silk. The only option when it comes to purchasing coffee. Especially if you don’t know where to start.” You beckon him toward the shelves of familiar red containers. Your trained eye finds the black-labeled tub instantly, and you crouch down, grabbing the largest option with eager fingers. “Let me tell you, mystery man. This coffee right here? A life changer.” 

“Oh.” Jack’s eyes are wide as saucers as he looks from you, to the container in your hands, and back to you. One corner of his full lips creeps upward as he gazes at you in equal parts amusement and intrigue. “A life changer, you say?” 

You nod. 

“And you think I need the largest tub they have?” An adorable peekaboo from that crooked grin of his. If you didn’t stop staring, you’d be reduced to nothing but a puddle on the floor. Clean up in Aisle 20.

“Yes. You’ll thank me later. If you’re doubting me…” Your gaze sweeps the aisle on either side of you. It’s just the two of you here, alone. Your fingers make quick work of popping the lid from its place and peeling back a section of the Aromaseal within. “...then just smell it. I promise, all your doubts will be erased.” 

Jack’s eyes dance with amusement as his gaze flickers between you and the coffee. You hold your ground, a challenge portrayed in the slant of your smirk. As if to say, ‘Yes, this is a hill I will die on.’ After several moments of bated breath, Jack lowers his head to the lip of the container. Instead of drawing in a long inhale like most human beings, he sucks in several short, rapid sniffs in succession. In that moment, you’re signed, sealed, and delivered–this man’s spirit animal is undeniably a dog, without question. Shaking your head incredulously, you close your eyes and dip your chin to savor the aroma yourself. 

The first word that enters your mind as you draw in a deep inhale is ‘bold.’ The scent of the dark roast is rich and robust as it weaves through your senses, awakening them instantaneously. The aroma is intense, luxurious, alluring. Your mouth waters unbidden as you hold the scent in, savoring it, before exhaling slowly through your nose. You can practically taste the notes of dark chocolate and smoke on your tongue. 

Satisfied, you slowly open your eyes. When you do, you find yourself gazing into two pools of olive green. Jack stares at you over the container of Black Silk between you, his eyes thoughtful, watchful, attentive. There is a gentleness behind his soft gaze, something intangible in the supple curve of his lips and his vaguely knotted brow that is fond, affectionate. 

“Cautivante.” The endearment is spoken on a breath, so faint you’re unsure you truly heard it. Your eyes fall to Jack’s lips, now parted slightly with bated breath. Your heartbeat flutters rapidly in your chest, fast as hummingbird wings, making you dizzy. Your very flesh seems to sing under his enthralled gaze, your skin warm and flushed, your knees weak. Unable to pry your eyes from the softness of his lips, the dip of his Cupid’s Bow. Your own lips seem to hum under his watch, calling out to him, buzzing so intensely you’re certain he must be able to see it, to feel it. As if drawn together by an invisible thread, you see him inch imperceptibly closer, and you mirror him, the song in your bones growing louder and louder– 

Ca-thunk. The sound nearly startles you out of your skin, slicing clean through the tension of the moment. Jumping backward, you turn to look past Jack at a very uncomfortable-looking woman several paces away. It’s very clear that she had been aware of your little….moment and had been trying to grab her tub of coffee unnoticed. Sorry, she mouths with a pained grimace. She dips down to grab the container of French roast that she had dropped on the floor and scurries off without another word. 

Fuck, your mind groans as panic sets in. Your gaze reluctantly slides to Jack, expecting to find his face twisted in regret, mortification, or awkwardness. Instead, you find him still watching you intently, captivated, spellbound. His olive eyes drink in your features like a man starved of drink. The feeling steals your breath away. 

You watch as his lips part wider, as he draws in a breath to speak. A rush of white hot panic sends your heart leaping into your throat at the sight. What would he say? Nerves thoroughly fried, you weren’t sure you could handle it, good or bad. So you beat him to it, hastily blurting out, “So, did you like it?” 

For a long moment, Jack’s expression hangs suspended, still as stone. He scarcely breathes as his eyes rove over your features, searching. You give him an awkward half-smile, mentally loathing yourself and your painful awkwardness in matters of affection. Part of you wants to tuck tail and run as far away from here as possible, hoping to save some scrap of your dignity. A bigger part of you wants to take his handsome, stubbled face in your hands and press those blush pink lips to yours, throwing caution to the wind. 

But neither of those things happen. When Jack finally releases the breath he’s been holding, the sound is low, wistful. “Yes, I liked it very much,” he says quietly, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t place. 

You release a bated breath of your own. Regret fills the space it once occupied, cold and heavy. “Alright, then…Great. Let’s get you home to your friend.”

. . . 

The ride back from town is quiet. Well, quiet on the outside. The inside of your mind is utter turmoil, a cacophonous tirade of:

What the fuck were you thinking–

Damn that woman–

He’s still a stranger, you know. You never should have picked up a stranger–

His lips were so perfect, how the hell can he be so–

“Here will do.” 

Jack’s soft voice startles you out of your mental beratement so abruptly that you have to white-knuckle the steering wheel to keep from swerving. Your eyes flicker to the side of the road where you’re currently driving, a grassy hill leading down to the forest beyond. You look at him next, eyes settling on his clasped hands, the fingers that he’s been twiddling for the past twenty minutes. “Here?” you say, your voice quiet. “Are you sure?” 

Jack gazes at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips upturned in a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, I’m sure. I live just a couple miles from here. If I begin walking now, I can arrive home before dark.” 

Ah, yes, nightfall. Your eyes turn to the dipping sun, just barely visible over the treeline to your left. It paints the sky in gold and burnt orange, the clouds overhead dip dyed in radiant shades of pink and purple. Your heart clenches at the sight, at the thought that time is running out. You turn on your blinker and pull into the gravel off the side of the highway with a lump in your throat. 

The two of you sit in still silence for a moment as you shift the car into park. The air in the cab is thick with nerves, with words left unsaid, actions left undone. You nibble at your bottom lip anxiously, wondering what on earth you could say to cut the tension. 

Jack beats you to it. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance, señorita.” His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes wide and emphatic. He gives you a small smile. Your eyes drink in the sight greedily, committing it to memory. “Thank you for helping this poor stranger. You have a warm and generous heart. I will leave you to continue your night in peace.” 

Peace. Your heart knows no such feeling as his hand closes around the grocery bag between his legs, as his fingers clasp the car door handle. Your heart revolts as he pushes the door open and begins to step out of the car. Sure, this was all your fault. You’d known from the get-go that your mystery man wasn’t sticking around. He’d told you as much himself. But that didn’t change how outright wrong it felt to watch him go. It didn’t change how desperately you wanted him to stay, the lengths you’d go to see him again, just one more time. Moon watching be damned. 

“Jack,” you say suddenly, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. Your mystery man’s posture stiffens slightly, followed by a slow, agonizing turn as he shifts to look back within the car, back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes rove over his face, searching, imploring. “Will I see you again?” Your voice is small, fearful, hopeful. 

Jack’s eyes widen at the raw emotion in your voice, a wealth of words said and unsaid. His green eyes search your face, picking you apart, reading you like a cherished novel. Whatever he finds within your expression, it prompts him to crouch down, reaching the front half of his body into the passenger side of the car. His earnest eyes do not stray from yours as he gently takes your right hand from the steering wheel. His fingertips are warm and lightly calloused as he lifts the sleeve of your sweater ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your skin as he nestles his nose against the soft flesh of the inside of your wrist. Slowly, he draws in a deep, long inhale. He holds the breath in his lungs, savoring. Your heart stammers wildly in your chest as you transcend several levels of the multiverse in the length of his breath. 

“Cautivante.” His soft lips brush affectionately over the flesh of your wrist as he speaks the word. Turning your palm over, he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his lips warm and plush. Dazed and flushed, you’re certain that your soul has left your body until he speaks softly, grounding you to the spot. “Do you wish to see me again?” His voice is small, fearful, hopeful. 

You don’t even hesitate. “Yes.” 

His olive eyes sparkle at your eagerness, mouth widening into a delighted grin, eyes smiling at their corners. Your heart melts at the crook in his teeth as he looks down at your hands, bashful, then back up at you again. His teeth tug at his bottom lip thoughtfully as he grins at you. “Well, if that is what you wish, mi amada, then that is what you shall receive.” 

And in the blink of an eye, he’s gone, with only the slightest lingering aroma of Black Silk remaining in his place. 

. . . 

Driving home from work the following day, you’re almost embarrassed to admit that you’ve spent more time searching the woods on the side of the road than looking at the road itself. But when you spot a familiar dark haired man standing off the side of the highway a half mile ahead, all sense of shame leaves your mind. You flick on your blinker in an instant, pulling over without hesitation. 

The first thing you notice about Jack is how bone-deep exhausted he looks. His salt-and-pepper hair is entirely unkempt, his eyes framed by dark, shadowy circles. You’re almost sure he’s wearing the exact same black sweater and jeans from the day before. Still, when he sees you approach, his face brightens like a man who’s just had his best sleep in years. Your heart swells three sizes at the sight. 

He throws the door open and dips into your passenger seat like it’s the only thing he’s thought of in the past twenty-four hours. “Hello,” he greets you adorably, face split with a wide, cheeky grin. 

You couldn’t hold back your laughter if you’d tried. “Hello,” you greet him in return. Your skin seems to sing in his very presence, heart fluttering with an intoxicating mix of nerves and anticipation. “Out of coffee already?” you joke. 

He gives you a knowing smile, eyes twinkling. “Sure, you could say that.” 

Your teeth pin down your bottom lip, trying to bite back a grin. “Well, that sounds like a serious problem,” you try to keep a straight face, to keep the bit rolling, but glee sneaks into your tone anyway. “We’d better fix that.” 

Jack’s hand slips over yours on the gear shift, his thumb kneading the backs of your knuckles affectionately. With his olive green eyes on you, you feel like you could do anything, go anywhere. His presence is a drug, so much more addictive than caffeine could ever be. “Indeed, mi amada.” His grin widens ever so slightly, giving you the perfect glimpse of that endearing crook in his teeth. Your lips hum in response, eager to kiss that sacred spot, to adore every inch of him. To keep that grin plastered on his face forevermore. “Lead the way.”

[gothhabiba]

How to tell if your eSim has been activated: Nomad desktop

Navigate to getnomad.app/ in your web browser and sign in with the email and password you used to buy the eSim.

At the top right of the screen, to the left of the blue oval button that says "My Account," click "Manage" to open a drop-down menu. Click "Manage Plans."

Here you will see all of the plans that are current and not expired.

Click on a plan to open its details page. If the plan is not active, red-orange text will read "not yet started" in the circle to the right.

Usually, a plan only begins to count down to expiry once it is installed, but Nomad also has a set date (from the purchase of the eSim) that it will begin counting down to expiry regardless of whether it is installed. You can see this date under where it says "Service: Data Only" on the left. As of January 2024, the Connecting Humanity team has asked people to reply to the email they sent containing the QR code for any inactive eSim that is about to begin auto-expiry (see instructions below).

If the plan is active, a blue meter will show the data usage around the circumference of the circle to the right, and the amount of data used will be printed inside the circle; the amount of time left before the eSim expires will be shown at the left, under the area that says "Service: Data Only" and above the blue button that says "Add more data."

How to top up a plan

Don’t let the plan expire if data is still being used! Just before the validity is up, or before the available data runs out, click the blue button at the bottom that says “Add more data,” scroll down and select one of the plans, then click the blue button at the bottom reading “Checkout” to top up the plan.

How to tell which plan is which

If you’ve sent multiple eSims from the same app to the Connecting Humanity team, some are active and some aren’t, and you’re not sure which e-mail to reply to to tell the team that that plan is still inactive—

I’ve figured this out by visually comparing the QR codes. Click on an inactive plan. Click the button towards the bottom of the page that says “Installation Instruction,” just to the right of the blue button that says "My Plans."

Scroll down. Under where it says "Add eSim to your phone," expand the menu titled "Install eSIM via QR code or Manual Input."

Scroll down a bit. To the right of the blue button that says "Manual Input" is a greyed-out button that says "QR code." Toggle over to the QR code. The QR code for this plan will appear right under the menu.

Now find the e-mail for a Nomad plan that you sent during October, November, or the first two weeks of December and visually compare to see if the QR code matches. If it does, then that means this plan is not yet active, and you should send a reply to this e-mail to let the team know.

If you can't visually compare QR codes, take a screenshot of both QR codes and upload the image files to an online QR code reader to get the data they're encoding in a text format; then compare the text to see if it matches.

Note: Only do this on desktop if you originally purchased the plan and sent the QR code on desktop. The QR code for the same plan looks completely different on desktop from how it looks in the app.

[spar-kie]

Do You Have The Time?

A Thorough Dissection of What Past Aevium Means For You

So I've been reading through @/jazz-kitty's rejuv playthrough (not actually tagging them bc this will contain spoilers for shit they've not gotten to but if you're reading this Jazz, keep up the good work! It's super fun to read through your playthrough :>), and I've realized we got some concrete dates (in a fashion), meaning that, we might be able to figure out when Storm 9 happens, within a couple months! As well as some other details.

Anyways even if you don't want to hear my rambling about dates, there's gonna be something I really want to share underneath the cut, I'll put some big bold header text so you know where to scroll to.

Now, it all starts here, with Melia's Mimikyu, which we are there to see caught, giving us a concrete date, October 10th, 198X.

Now you may be asking yourself, but Sparkie, the screenshot says 1984? That's because my buddy Nym, who is on the dev team, stated that to its memory, the year is calculated based off your system date. Meaning that the year will change depending on the year you play Rejuv in. However, Jazz's post that I got this from does mention in the tags how the rest of Melia's pokemon are caught from 1981-1983. I had an old save file kicking around that was near Blacksteeple, and checking "Emma's" Pokemon in that I can also say that these dates are variable based off system time. Being 198X-3 through 198X-1. For simplicity's sake we're going to be based off of System Time being the year 2024, mostly because shit like 198X-1 is hard to read. But just keep in mind that as Rejuv is set in 202X these dates have about a 10 year range they can vary by, this will come back later, take note of this.

I want to establish before we go forward, you can also see how this works for yourself rather easily, if you go into the past and catch a pokemon, the date it's caught at will be your system time, minus 40 years. This, combined with some plot elements such as Melia's birthday being after she catches this Mimikyu confirms that the past segments take place exactly 40 years before present day, with the Time Crystals not sending you back or forth to a specific time and date, but rather a set amount of time forward and back (in this case 40 years).

Anyways, this also lets us know that Storm-9 happened a little over 39 years ago as of the game's start, and at some point during the game's time span we will hit the 40 year anniversary. I always thought it was 50 years before the game's start, I don't remember if I got that from somewhere in game or it's just one of them things I got in my head, but between the wiki and a reply from Zumi on one of my tweets it's actually 40. If anyone has the same misconception I had, I hope that clears it up.

But through what we can gleam in game, we can actually tell (roughly) when Storm-9 happens! Judging by the fact we can still visit the past at the end of the .karma files, Storm-9 has not hit the past yet. It's going to happen very soon, but it's not there yet. Thankfully, we have a very concrete date on when that would be, December 25th, 2024, as the Xen Raid is just one day later. Meaning, that as of December 25th, 1984, the Aevium region is still fine. This combined with the fact that there is a note on the door of the house occupied by the A-Gang near Hyoshi City that says they'll be out until the Summer means that they are going to be at school until late May, early June, assuming it runs at similar time frames to a school in the U.S.. Meaning that, at some point, most likely in Early 1985, but possibly for about a week in Late 1984, is when Storm 9 hits. You could extrapolate more (i.e. no teachers/other students in the academy during the Interceptor's Nightmare Realm means people might've been on break, meaning it was Late 1984 and the gang was just hanging out at the academy) but as that's explicitly stated to be not entirely accurate to how that day actually was, I'm not going to do that.

HI IF YOU JUST WANT THE FUNNY INFORMATION SCROLL HERE

Anyways, now that you've heard me ramble about dates like your history teacher, we get to the fun part! That being I get to tell you about the A gang! That being we know the protag choices are 17-18 years old, and given that we know Storm 9 happened in either very Late 1984 or Early 1985, we can assume that the A-Gang were those ages during Storm-9. Meaning their birth years could range between 1966-1968, placing them firmly in Gen X, meaning they are chronologically old enough to be some of the people reading this's parents!

But that's not all, do you remember how I stated that Rejuv took place in 202X, meaning it could be any year of the 2020s? And thus, the past segments take place in any year 40 years before that, in the 1980s? If we were to say, put the year Rejuv takes place in in 2020, then that would mean the A Gang would be born in the years 1962-1964.

The general consensus on baby boomers is that they were born between 1946-1964.

The A Gang could, conceivably, be baby boomers.

Have a nice night everyone.

[garbinge]

For Old Time's Sake

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader Steve Murphy & Javier Peña & F!Reader For the @narcosfandomdiscord October Prompts. Day 1 - Day of Firsts: Create a fanwork about a canon character you’ve never written about/used before. Summary: Your first day in Colombia on the Escobar case and you end up running into an old flame. A little reimagined moment of Steve's first day in Colombia if you will! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Angsty. Javi being kinda lowkey jerky. A/N: Okay so this is my first time writing Carrillo and I feel like its wildly out of character/his voice/etc but we're out here TRYING okay. So excited for these prompts and hope to write for a good chunk on this list!

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini

Your plane landed in the early morning hours, it was still dark out as you exited. Luckily there was no waiting on baggage or making your way through the crowd. When the DEA sent you out, they pulled out all the stops. It helped that you were top of your game at work, putting in the extra hours, sacrificing your social life. It basically meant you were eating, sleeping, and dreaming of work 24/7 but it brought you up as the highest agent in your division and because of that, it earned you the Escobar case. That and well, you had pretty well knowledge of Colombia since you spent your college years abroad there. 

This was the last of the luxury you’d experience from the DEA office in the states, however, and you knew that so you soaked up every ounce of it before you were now exiting the private plane, making your way down to the Ford that was waiting to take you to your accommodations. 

“Hola, senorita.” Someone in a suit greeted you and held the backdoor open for you. 

You smiled and placed your bags in the back, you knew that wasn’t what they were holding the door for, but you weren’t going to continue the special treatment. Quickly after dropping your bags, you moved to the passenger seat and waited for the driver to join you. After a few beats of silence they mentioned they would be taking you to your apartment so you could get settled but you disagreed and made them take you to the embassy. 

There it was, the habit that got you in this position, all work, no play. 

As you rolled into the embassy, you flashed your badge and quickly made your way in, stepping out as the car was still moving. 

“Muchas gracias.” You nodded to your driver who was panicking to brake. 

Two men in tan suits waited for you as you approached with your bags. 

“Peña and Murphy?” You stood staring at the two of them as they sized you up. 

“Yep.” Javier extended his hand out to shake yours. “Javier–Javi.” 

That was followed by the same gesture from Steve. 

“They were supposed to bring you to drop your bags off first.” Javi started to complain as he began walking inside the building.

“I told them to bring me here, I can drop my bags off whenever I go home. Wanted to meet the team and get briefed as soon as possible.” You spoke up, quick to keep up with both of the men who were holding the door open for you. 

As you entered the building you took in everything, making mental notes of every detail you thought would be important. The sign that listed each floor, where the bathrooms were, where each emergency exit was located. It almost made you miss the look Steve and Javi gave each other after you explained your eagerness to work. 

“I got myself familiar with all the notes on the plane but, I figured first hand accounts would be better. I know better than to believe everything that’s in the paperwork.” You spoke as you entered the elevator. 

“Yea well, things are–” Javier paused his sentence to think about what to say, how to describe what you were getting into. 

“A shitshow.” Steve interrupted him to finish the thought. 

Mentally you noted that Steve was the more honest one, not one to get flustered by the presence of a woman. He was likely married, or in some serious commitment, and whether that was with a woman or his job you respected it. You nodded with a smile, answering him briefly with a some response about how it isn't always with the DEA or something of that nature before your eyes moved back over to Javier to get a read on him. 

Before you could nail down a thought, the elevator doors were opening and the group of you were moving fast. 

“Weaver and Wisnicki, meet our new DEA special agent.” Javier introduced you by name. 

You were quick to let go of your bags and reach over to shake hands and correct the title he gave you. “Supervising Special Agent.” 

Steve let out a chuckle before continuing the greeting. “Javi what is it you called these guys? R.I.P? Retired in place?” 

You let out a chuckle, you weren’t going to shit on what these two did, you weren’t here for that and with the amount of time you spent at work, you needed to make friends where possible. 

“Hey, we all earn it.” You lifted your hands up in an act of innocence. “It was nice meeting you two.” 

As the group of you moved through the different sections of the floor you got introduced to other agents, the Mil group, and the ambassador. Each group introduction went well. By the end of your journey, Javier was suggesting you leave your bags at his desk before they drove you in to meet the Search Bloc, seeing as you were about to go on an intel mission with them in the next 5 hours. 

“Now we should give you a heads up.” Steve spoke up as the car you were in pulled into Carlos Holguin School. “Colonel Carrillo can be–”

“Walking up right now.” Javier interrupted as he put the car in park and exited the vehicle. 

Steve was quick to look up and see that the Colonel wasn’t walking up, it was just his men approaching to escort the lot of you in. 

“No he’s not!” Murphy yelled before turning to you in the back seat. “He can be a bit of dick. Apparently a common trait around here.” His eyes went back to Peña before he was exiting the passenger door himself. 

You smiled to yourself at that. It was enjoyable to you to see the back and forth between the two men. 

The silence overcame the group of you as you were brought to an office door, the plaque on the outside reading Colonel Carrillo was a little outdated in style, meant he had a few years on his belt. 

As the door was opened by one of the search bloc soldiers, Javi began speaking. 

“Buenos días, Colonel.” 

The minute a voice responded, you felt your gut flinch, if that was even possible, before it sunk. Your head was whipping up to look at the major, taking in his green uniform, the badge on his chest, and finally, his face. 

Javier and him were mumbling to each other as they shook hands, leaving you to take in who it was in front of you right now. 

It wasn’t so much nerves you were feeling, you would have described it more as shock. Which, shock felt a lot similar to a panic attack. The noise in your ears got fuzzy, there was a slight buzzing in the background and your face went blank. 

“You alright?” Steve cut through the fuzziness in your ears, luckily and brought you back to reality. 

“Yea sorry, just fucked up from the time difference and the flight.” You shook your head and masked the shock you were feeling. 

“I want you to meet our new DEA supervising special agent.” Javi spoke up, calling the attention to you now. 

His eyes met yours, and the smile that slightly curved on his face tipped you off that he recognized you immediately. You saw his mouth move slightly open and before Javi or him could say your name you were quick to cut them both off by speaking it outloud and move towards them, extending your arm to greet the man. 

If that wasn’t enough to get the point across to the Colonel, your next words would have been. 

“Mucho gusto.” You smiled and prayed he didn’t say or do anything that would give away your connection. 

“Mucho gusto.” He spoke back to you with a frown. 

“We’re gonna move out and get intel in about an hour.” Steve spoke up from the back. 

“Murphy.” Carrillo spoke up, his face hardening as he stared at the man. 

With the context you had just gotten from Steve, you now realized that what Murphy meant in the car was, Carrillo was a dick to him. If you weren’t in the middle of this clusterfuck of a situation, you would have smiled, maybe even chuckled a bit but your mind was still trying to wrap itself around what was happening. 

“We’ll get out of your hair, just wanted to introduce you to the fresh meat.” Javi smiled at you. 

“Wait.” Carrillo spoke up and your gut did that flinching thing again. “I’d love to know more about what this means for your team, Peña.” 

You heard Javi start to make a noise, it was something adjacent to stuttering. His way of not wanting to devalue himself or shit on you while you were in the room. 

“My title doesn’t really pull weight, it’s just for the paperwork. I’m basically going to be working closely with Peña and Murphy on intel and raids. Only difference is my signature gets added to the documents.” You spoke up, looking back at the men behind you as you spoke. 

“Have you gotten a tour of Medellin yet, special agent?” 

He was teasing you. When you met him in Colombia all those years ago, that was exactly what he did. Give you a tour. He showed you the plaza, the museums, the best restaurants you never would have found otherwise. And again, in any other circumstance you would have been amused, but mortified was more the right word to describe your emotions at the moment. The comment was more obvious to you than anyone else in the room. It helped that Steve and Javi were oblivious to everything that wasn’t Escobar related so they weren’t exactly picking up on what was happening. 

“She flew in this morning, her bags are back at the embassy at my desk, she didn’t even get settled before jumping on the case.” Javi spoke up. 

“I’ll have it arranged that your bags are picked up and brought here.” Carrillo wasn’t even looking at any of you anymore. He was rummaging through paperwork at his desk. 

When no one responded he looked up to be met with confused looks. His eyes jumped from Steve to Javi to you. “Paperwork, after the intel trip. Going to need your signatures.” 

“Right.” You said it was obvious the entire time. 

“Alright, I’ll make the arrangements and meet you all at 1300.” He went back to looking at his paperwork, ignoring all 3 of you. 

It took you a couple seconds to make your feet move but eventually you were able to and out of his office. Steve was now leading the way to where you would meet a few more of the Search Bloc crew and gather up gear for the trip you were about to take. 

Luckily, the intel mission wasn’t awkward at all. Carrillo put his professional foot forward, as did you and as you all waited in the room for all the Narcos to show up there was no more tense or nervousness in the air. He clearly picked up on you not wanting to out any of your past personal life to Steve and Javier and quite honestly, he understood that. Having more time to think on it and not being thrown for a loop in the moment, he felt relieved about it too. These were not exactly the typical running into your ex conditions, this was work, this was catching a drug cartel and their leaders, this needed to be as far away from personal as possible. 

That was what both of you told yourselves. It was what you told yourself on the way back, while you sat next to each other in the car, when Javi leaned forward to tell you that the restaurant coming up had the best arepas de choclo. You knew that, because that was where you and Horacio would go when you were craving late night foods. And it was what you told yourself now, as you all pulled back up to the Carlos Holguin School and the awkwardness came back over you. 

“I had one of my men take your bags to where you’re staying.” Carrillo said as the group of you gathered together on the dirt lot. 

“We would have taken them back, her place is on the first level where me and Steve stay.” Javi spoke up, his hands resting on his hips. 

“One last thing we gotta lug back home from the embassy.” Steve shrugged as he leaned over to shake Carrillo’s hand in an effort to say goodbye.

“Wasn’t a big deal, I have a few men working at the embassy, keeps communication smooth.” Carrillo wasn’t in the mood to argue with Javi on this so he was quick to turn to you. “You ready to get started on this paperwork?”

“Yea, I’ll meet you in your office, let me just debrief with my guys.” You spoke confidently, anything to throw both of them off.

 All Carrillo did was nod and make his way back to his office. You turned to Steve and Javi, your face solid and serious. 

“We’ll take care of following up on the intel.” Javi spoke up now, like he was in charge. 

“I’ll give you a call on what the next move is.” Steve was cutting Javi off, staring at him with a frown before moving his eyes on to you. 

You nodded once, then turned to Javi. “Call me fresh meat one more time and I’ll be sure you’re riding desk for the rest of this case and you’ll be the one staying late to run through paperwork.” 

It was harsh, but true. You were new, but you weren’t stupid. Regardless of anything, you pulled rank over these two, whether it truly mattered or not. There was no room for disrespect. 

“See you two in the morning.” You offered them a goodbye and made your way over to the main entrance. Steve’s laugh could have been heard from even inside the building, it was obvious he was making fun of Javi, of what you just said. It was good, set the tone amongst them. 

The walk down the hallway was long, your head was filling with tons of thoughts, of memories, your heart was beating so fast it was a surprise it wasn’t coming out of your chest. As your hand rested on the doorknob of Carrillo’s office, you took a beat, a moment to take a deep breath and exhale it out as the door opened. 

Carrillo was sitting at his desk, his green button up shirt that houses his name patch and badge was hung on a coat rack in the corner, he was at his desk with just his tan t shirt on, the only light illuminating the room was the outdoor lights from the windows behind him and the desk lamp that was showing the frown on his face as he shuffled through things on his desk. 

“Thanks for going along with it.” You spoke up, alerting him of your presence. The immediate thought you had was why you were starting the conversation with that. There were a million other things you could have said. 

His head shot up, he clearly had not heard you open the door or your heart practically thumping out of your chest. 

“It’s no problem.” He answered you. “I hope you set Peña straight.” He was standing up now, moving his hand to the chair across his desk offering for you to sit. 

“Set straight?” You were confused, as you made your way to sit down. 

“Fresh meat.” He said as he sat back down himself. 

“Oh, yea. That won’t be happening again.” You let out a chuckle, still fidgeting around in the seat trying to get comfortable. 

“It’s probably good you thought quick, what happened with us… it’s just more fuel to the fire for him.” Carrillo was leaning on his desk, elbows resting on the stacks of documents. 

“What did happen with us?” The question came out so blunt it even shocked you. 

“You went back.” It was said like it was so obvious. Like those 3 words were the answer to it all. 

“I sent you letters.” The vibe had definitely changed from just mere minutes ago. 

Carrillo didn’t say anything, he sat there silent, his face neutral like that would be enough of an answer for you. 

“It’s crazy how you can know someone for just short of a year, spend pretty much everyday with them, learn the most intimate things about them, and truly know absolutely nothing about them.” 

“What are you talking about?” He was annoyed, and because of the time you spent with him, you knew it was deflection, a way to get out of the conversation, but you weren’t going to let it go that easily. 

“You never told me you were an aspiring police officer.” You pointed to the badged shirt on the rack. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you told me you wanted to come to the states, study, learn about architecture, the details of the buildings that people are so quick to dismiss.” It was a pretty direct quote from a young Horacio’s mouth.

“I joined 4 months after you left. Things got bad here. After that incident where– where you got hurt. I couldn’t shake it.” He explained thinking back to one of the last memories of you here with him. It wasn’t one either of you liked to remember, you had a permanent scar on you to remind you of it more frequently, but in Carrillo’s case it looked like he had a career profession to keep the memory alive. 

“Why did you ignore my letters?” Your voice softened now as you came to the realization that maybe you could actually come to some closure tonight. 

“We should probably start on this paperwork, make everything ready for your team to move forward tomorrow.” He was taking a stack of blank documents and handing it over to you. 

“Why did you ignore my letters, Horacio.” You spoke his name with such pleading, not just because you knew it’d get him to answer but because you truly missed saying his name in that way. 

“It was too much.” He couldn’t bear to look at you as he spoke. “Loving you and giving my all to training, to the big picture, to Colombia.” 

There it was. The most truthful thing he might have ever said to you. You knew he loved you but deep down, you always knew he loved his country. The two of you fell in love as he showed you the sights, it was written in your story for it to come down to this.

“If I had to lose you to someone I’m glad it was to her.” You managed to make a joke, just being happy that he had been honest with you. 

He smiled at that too. Now that things were a little more settled, a little less awkward, you began rummaging through the papers, filling out reports and findings, signing pre-typed notes for approvals and compliance. About 20 minutes went by when Carrillo was clearing his throat to get your attention. 

“I’m glad you’re here to fight this fight with me.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The firmness in your voice came back over you, your eyes glaring at him.

He got flustered a bit, neither of you having been in a situation where flirting, romance and charm weren’t the leading tones of your conversations. 

“I just came here for the best arepas de choclo in Colombia.” A smile grew on your face and his was soon to follow. 

He was quick to stand up and grab his jacket, which was hanging next to his badged work shirt and place it on. 

“Well I guess I better not disappoint.” He was nodding towards the door. “For old times sake? I believe that’s what they say back where you’re from.” 

You stood up and grabbed your own jacket from the back of the chair and made your way to stand in front of him, dangerously close to him, you could feel the slight breeze of his breath on you as he waited for some verbal response from you. For old time’s sake, if that was the excuse he needed to justify going to get food with you, you’d take it. To be honest if that was the excuse he needed to do anything with you, you’d allow it. Little to your knowledge, but those 4 words would end up being all the invitation either of you needed to revisit old times in the next five months, whether it was your favorite restaurant, your apartment, his house, even a couple times in his office. 

So you stared up at him, at the eyes of the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago, and despite them looking a little more dark and unruly now, you smiled and opened your mouth to speak. 

“For old time’s sake.” 

[ninebluehearts]

I beg you for fluffy fluff (or as fluffy as possible, all things considered) Joel / whomever with Joel being sick (not seriously, but like a guy tends to get a bit helpless when he has a cold!) and his s/o having none of it!

Ahhhh, thank you for the ask anon!!💗 Man-colds are no laughing matter 😤✋

Rated: E

Your eyes slowly fluttered open in the limited light in your bedroom- you sat up, glancing around for anything that could've woken you up before the sun could. You squinted your eyes, trying to focus them on the clock that quietly ticked away on the wall nearest to you. It was only three in the morning; you didn't start your shift for another two hours.

Figuring you just had a nightmare and didn't remember it, you tried to lay down and go back to sleep. As you slowly started to let your body slip into the heavy darkness, a sudden thud right next to you pulled you out of your light sleep. You stared at the wall again, waiting to see if it would happen again.

Not a minute later, another thud sounded next to you, followed by what sounded like a bear's growl. You sat up once again, gently pressing your hand against Joel's shoulder. "What is it baby?" You mumbled, gently running your nails along the skin his t-shirt sleeve didn't cover.

"Don't feel good." He mumbled, followed by another deep groan.

"Awe, my poor baby," You cooed, reaching over to feel his forehead. "You're warm."

Joel leaned into your touch, pressing his forehead against the palm of your hand. "But I'm soo cold." He whined.

To be honest, you were more than a little shocked. The man that was always so stoic and intimidating was now here, cuddling your arm and whining over a little cold. You thought it was the beginning of October, considering all of the leaves started dying and falling once again, and the familiar gentle nip of a chill hung in the air, but no one could know for sure. Allergies would explain where the cold came from though.

"Oh baby, what can I do?" You asked as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Joel slurred out an answer that you couldn't understand, but a yawn followed, and soon he was fast asleep once again. You laid down beside him, one arm draped over his chest as the other continued to gently play with his hair.

-

You don't remember exactly when you fell asleep, but thankfully Joel was still fast asleep when you woke up. You managed to get yourself up and ready for work without waking him up, leaving a glass of water and two antibiotics Joel had been saving on the counter, waiting for him when he got up for work.

You worked from five in the morning to seven that night, waiting in line for an extra thirty minutes for your pay. When you reached the front of the line you noticed your friend Ben was working the counter today. Though Joel didn't like him very much, Ben let you get away with a lot of shit, and that was enough to convince Joel to swallow his pride and play nice.

"Hey Benny, how ya been?" You asked as you stepped in front of him, gently rapping your knuckles on the table.

"Same old, same old." Ben said with a sigh, licking his thumb before picking through the box of cards. "Oh hey, have you seen Joel today? He didn't show up for his shift this morning." He asked as he held out the cards you had earned for today and a small piece of paper that had the details for tomorrow's assignment.

"No, I haven't seen him since this morning." You said as you took the papers from him, worry laced in your tone. "I'll make sure he shows up tomorrow though. Thanks Benny." You didn't register his goodbye as you walked away, your mind swarming with the What-If?'s.

You knew about Tess and Joel's missions outside of the QZ- what if he got bit and didn't know? What if he got tetanus from a rusty fence? What if he took a bad batch of pills? The list of things Joel Miller could've done to accidentally kill himself went on for miles, and it felt like you went over every scenario on your way back home.

As you approached the door to your apartment, your hand wrapped around the doorknob, you froze. What if he was infected? The thought made you sick to your stomach, but you had to consider it..

Fuck, when was the last time he left the QZ? You thought, trying to think back to the last time you had to cover for him when he didn't show up for work. Though you hoped he was actually sick this time.

Infected or not, you had to check on him. If he was infected, then there was a bat he kept by the door you could use.

You gently turned the knob to the right, scanning the room as you slowly pushed the door open. When you didn't see anyone, you fully stepped into the room, looking behind the door just in case. "Joel?" You called out as you slowly walked towards the wall that hid your bed.

A deep growl sounded from behind the wall, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your heart dropped to your stomach, sweat beaded on your forehead. You had never seen an infected person before; only hearing stories about them from Joel and Tess or others from the QZ. But if you had to guess, growling was a sure sign of infection.

You took a quiet step back, grabbing the handle of the bat and holding up and ready. "Honey?" You called out, slowly walking towards the bedroom once again. Though this time there was nothing but silence. Once you were close enough, you whipped around the corner, ready to smack an infected for the first time ever.

What you weren't ready for was Joel lying in bed with two tampons shoved up his nose, cuddling a bottle of cheap QZ moonshine.

You sighed, lowering the bat. "What the fuck Joel? I thought you were infected or something!" You hollered, tossing the bat onto the nearby couch.

Joel groaned, rolling over onto his side. "Why would I be infected?" His voiced sounded hoarse.

"Well, considering that all I knew was that you recently went out of the QZ, you had a fever when I left, and you didn't show up for work today.." You huffed, your hands planted on your hips.

"That run was over a week ago; would've been dead by now." He mumbled, sniffling around the long piece of cotton.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, trying your best not to laugh. "Joel Miller, are those my tampons? Really?"

"I couldn't find a rag!" He said with a groan, throwing the blanket over his head.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. "And you're the Joel everybody's scared of.." You mumbled as you grabbed the edge of the blanket, gently pulling it off of him. "Up." You said, rolling your eyes at the mix of a groan and a whine he let out. "Come on, I'll make you soup. You can't just lay around all day." You held out your hand for him to take, pulling him to his feet when he did.

Joel sighed, leaning against you as some form of hug. "You're late." He mumbled into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist.

You rested your chin on his shoulder as you gently rubbed his back, enjoying the closeness after a long day. "I know. I had to help clean up after the after-work rush and there was a long line at the card table today."

Joel nodded, taking a deep breath in and out, his hot, sick breath striking your neck.

You shivered, gently pushing him away. "I love you, but you're so gross. Seriously, let me make you soup and then you can lay back down." You guided Joel into the living room and sat him down on the chair in the corner. After that, you grabbed a pot and a can of chicken noodle soup Joel had found on one of his missions and stashed under the bed for times like this. You used the small, white heater under the window as a makeshift stove to heat up the soup.

Once Joel finished eating, you tucked him back into bed and felt his forehead, his fever had thankfully gone down. "Did you take those antibiotics I left for you?"

Joel nodded, patting the open space next to him on the bed. "Will you sleep with me? I know it's a little early, but I don't wanna be alone."

"If it'll make you feel better faster." You responded with a smirk, lying down next to him.

"It will." Joel pulled the blankets up and over you then slung his arm around your waist, holding you as close as possible. "You always take such good care of me.. I love you, baby." He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek then buried his face against your neck, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your stomach where your shirt rode up.

"I love you too, honey." You settled into his embraced, your eyes suddenly getting heavy. It had been a long, draining day and you couldn't imagine a better way to end it.

[daily-rayless]

She Shines: 5 Years of Red

It's 2024 and it's time to celebrate another milestone year of me being obsessed with a character – this time it's Red, the silent-but-fierce hero of Supergiant Games' Transistor.

January 2019

My first Red! The game doesn't take very long to play, so I didn't have to wait long to realize something big was happening in my brain.

April 2019

I first played Transistor in late January 2019, five years ago. Which is also about the same time I started my art Tumblr. So the two events are somewhat tied in my mind. Getting an approving response from Tumblr's Transistor fandom was one of the first things that happened for me here, and it was such a nice welcome.

May 2019

And even five years later, my Transistor art still does well. In fact, I see Transistor art generally still doing well. Us Red fans, we're devoted.

September 2019

And why not? For one thing, she has one of my very favorite character designs of all time. She's gorgeous, electric, ferocious – the red hair, the bright blue eyes, the punk jacket, the torn dress – but still with her glimpses of tenderness and humor, the smiles, the soft gestures.

March 2020

Even though she never speaks in the main body of the game, the gameplay, art, music, and the one-sided rapport from the Boxer all operate together. If they don't exactly detail Red's personality, I feel like they create a shape around her – you can construct an image of her with what the game gives you, allowing you to feel the emotional connection that's so integral to Transistor's story.

October 2020

In a way, I like her silence because it offers the gamer some latitude – you can figure Red out, you can intuit and extrapolate personality traits, you can speculate over backstory, but you're not constrained by canon. Different artists and writers in the fandom will have different takes on Red. But the game still gives you enough that they feel like Red.

March 2021

This isn't a player-proxy, a placeholder. This is an actual character.

October 2021

Her music is a big part of that. Her songs are beautiful, but they're also emotional. And not just the emotions you might expect, love and grief. There's anger. There's pity, there's frustration. There's existential angst, so stylishly expressed.

March 2022. I'm realizing I tend to draw Red in March.

Even on “Paper Boats”, which you might think is the most straightforward of the batch, a love song, Red has this dangerous edge. You can run but you can't hide. Maybe she's helpless against it. Maybe she's happy about it. But it goes against the grain.

May 2022

And I like that there's that contrariness to Red. She's glamorous, but she's also a fighter, even if she's never had to fight before the night the game starts.

December 2022

This is a woman who bikes, who boats, who finds herself flying over the city without batting an eye. She takes to the battlefield because she has no choice not to, and she thrives. She picks up this device she doesn't understand and in one night ends up mastering it.

January 2023

But at her core, it's not about her being badass and competent. Video game protagonists are always badass and competent. I think it's her heart as a character that we find so compelling, her love and concern, her protectiveness for the Boxer, her determination to be with him.

March 2024

Red's singled out by the Camerata because people are so drawn to her. That's true in Cloudbank – and, it would seem, here on the outside.

[socksandbuttons]

*Tries to think about a Evil Lunar AU, instead i get accidental murder and severe guilt from two parties.* Anyway, i don’t know what to call this au. Moon dies? Lunar is Here? This takes place during when Killcode first appears. Trapping both Moon and Lunar in his weird mind hellscape. Although in this timeline, Lunar instead of trying to dissociate and avoid Killcode, actively tries to remove him. Since this is AFTER Moon would teach him how to code. I’ll have to rethink details here cause I think Monty and Moon discussed AFTER about removing killcode was a Very Bad Idea. You know what, the rest under cut here

Anyway, Also rememeber, this is before Lunar meets Good Eclipse and getting his warnings about not removing the killcode. Lunar is able to remove Killcode. Although in the process effectively breaking and killing Moon. Yay no more killcode for Sun to deal with again! (who was trying to get monty to help.) However, it takes a moment for Lunar to fully realize what happened.  He can’t get a hold of Moon and even worse is that... its quiet in his head now. So Sun does come back, with Monty. Lunar now having to decide whether he tells Sun the truth immediately and begging Monty to help. Or decide to pretend to be Moon for a while, and get Monty to help bring Moon back if he even can. Either way it just leads to Sun’s anger with Lunar, effectively kinda putting a huge strain on their relationship that they were just starting to get along. It doesn’t help Sun still has that trauma of Eclipse and Lunar body jacking during october. (Third image is a reference to when Lunar revealed he took moon over for a week. That conversation is a Huge uh can of worms there.) Who’s also feeling guilt do to several issues we know now, but one is not helping Moon himself. But obviously this wasn’t something meant to happen. Sun’s grieving, Lunar’s grieving and Monty is trying to figure out if they can help (while also grieving.) Lunar is obviously taking this pretty badly, he just killed his brother (in attempt to help but still) and stuck in Moon’s body. Triggering Sun and him everytime he looks in the Mirror. So he removes some of the accessories but nothing Altering the outfit permanently. That’s like a moon pin/barrette he put on the hat. Keeping the eyelights white (Moon in game can do that so. Yeah) Unfortunately, only Monty and Sun know Lunar is the only one left in moon’s body. No one knows Lunar, remember that. That’ll be brought up probably. Whether Lunar pretends to be Moon for other people is dependent. He technically was helping with the daycare in Moon’s place already. There’s also Lunar just knowing Sun technically blames him, thus pretending to talk to moon when he’s by himself. Sun obviously getting frustrated at Lunar, but think of hurt/comfort here. Sun knows Moon wouldn’t want them fighting about it, and Lunar is the only brother he has left now. They’re literally going through a lot, heck Bloodmoon (and Eclipse) is still around. They have the computer to technically help with things Moon did. Lunar is left with guilt having been the one to desperately do something with immense consequence of losing one of his brothers who actively cared for him and fear he'll lose the other, and Sun who's blaming Lunar but also feeling guilt cause he feels he could've at least TRIED to do something himself instead of running off to find someone and leaving both Lunar and Moon to fend for themselves. ANYWAY JUST. SUN AND LUNAR HANDLING DEATH OF THEIR BROTHER AND MORE OR LESS ACCEPTING THEY MAY HAVE LOST HIM FOR GOOD. Will there be a part 2 handling with Eclipse and Bloodmoon? and maybe Earth idk about earth here.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Whump Whumping Whump

Updates on Whumptober, meows!

Alllriiight, my dear readers, I'm very much on a roll when it comes to Whumptober. For anyone stumbling across my page for the first time, Whumptober is an event hosted during October where you write "whump", or rather the psychological, physical, and other forms of torment against a "whumpee" (person receiving the angst).

I had the thought of doing a combination of prompts into a single one-shot, just to get a feel of something a little different! I wanted to talk a little about the chosen fandom and some information about the au itself because why not? For fandom, I decided to go with the current fixation, in other words a K-Drama known as Vincenzo.

This one's going to be particularly whumpy, especially due to the nature of the content with my idea but before that - this idea follows a canon divergent setting! It does fit under au, though honestly I named the fic after a song! Due to my rewatch of the series, I realized how dear these characters are to me so I created my own canon because, well, one of my favorites did die and I am upset lol.

Read below for information about the au and the fic itself!

Changes to the Canon

Jang Hanseo deserved so much better. After suffering from Hanseok's abuse, I felt his demise was too brutal for my tastes and decided he would get the chance to live here!

Vincenzo still did leave Korea after the end of the series, but then came back - deciding he couldn't abandon his new family. Geumga Plaza is an unofficial family and are highly protective of each other

Vincenzo and Hong Chayoung got together post-canon; though it took a while, considering just how stubborn both of them are. They're only dating, and neither has brought up marriage

The au itself does take place in Italy though! I had thought of Vincenzo taking Chayoung and Hanseo to visit where he had grown up, and so I decided to have them take a vacation

Hanseo took over the business, now running it legally. Though he also decided to volunteer at an animal shelter during the weekend

Vincenzo is a legal consultant, apart from still being part of the Jipuragi Law Firm

Hanseo suffers from PTSD and an unspecified anxiety disorder. While he has recovered immensely from the abusive dynamic with Hanseok, he does have vicious nightmares

He considers Vincenzo to be his true brother and rarely talks about Hanseok

Chayoung is highly protective of Hanseo, making sure no one comes after him. Though, this has hardly been an issue

Hanseo also has Autism Spectrum Disorder. I'm not going to lie; a lot of his depictions of having ASD in fanfiction doesn't always make me comfortable. I'm using my own experience with autism for how his represents

Vincenzo also has PTSD, but he doesn't talk about it. Ever

Fanfiction Details

As mentioned before, Vincenzo - alongside Chayoung and Hanseo - take a vacation to Italy, but of course things end up going a little south

For reasons I won't be disclosing yet, a hit is placed on Vincenzo. He discovers what's happening, and finds himself slowly distancing from Hanseo and Chayoung in order to keep them safe

Chayoung immediately notices something's up, attempting to confront Vincenzo but he gets defensive and it leads to a situation. That's all I can really say

Hanseo is not confrontational, but he does worry over his hyung and decides to help Chayoung figure out what's bothering Vincenzo

A fight does break out, but I will not be saying anything beyond that yet! That's spoilers, I'm afraid

More will come in a little while if anyone wants a WIP and would like to see me keep yapping about this idea. I haven't written for Vincenzo in ages, and last time, it had gotten a little... spicy to say the least but I adore Vincenzo's relationship with Chayoung and, well, Hanseo should've had a chance to heal from Hanseok's torment. In the meantime, I bid you adieu!

[dreamties]

dreams - amanda young x gn! reader

a/n- no triggers !!! basically just like. fluff and awkward mutual crushes. also written in like an hour with no edits so um !!!! plz enjoy this completely unplanned piece <33333

mentions of adam !!! word count: 823

amanda wakes in a startled mess, her anxiety sweat pooling at the dips in her skin and staining her shirt and sheets. she feels unbearably hot and claustrophobic.

she knows that unless she's running a fever (which she knows this feeling and it's not the traditional sick- it's a sickness in her head), there is no possible way for her to be warm right now. her apartment is old and she gets a discount on rent from how decrepit most amenities are.

so it's mid-october and her heater is busted- but she still feels hot and sick amidst the frigid air.

she heaves herself off the bed, leaving the sheets sticking to her skin behind. she sorts through a pile of semi-clean clothes. amanda would like to get a kickstart on her day- she knows, at this rate, she won't be able to fall asleep again.

she rinses her hair in the kitchen sink. spends a minute scrubbing at the subtly indented scars on her cheek.

she dresses in a hurry, though she has no place to go, no place urgent at least.

amanda walks six blocks to her favorite cafe, huddled in a jacket that no longer zips up.

no respectable shop should be open this early. or this late. from past experiences she knows it will be open though. the only shop aside from 24-hour markets and the occasional gas station open at this hour, in this neighborhood.

an annoying, zingy bell sounds as she enters and sits down at her favorite booth. the person working, y/n, has never bothered her about ordering something. they always let her watch or idly write on napkins or draw on her skin- anything to keep her from going back to her apartment.

y/n is not behind the counter right now. which is unusual. they usually do- well, amanda's not actually sure what they do. she hasn't been stalking them, after all, just observing. she has yet to figure out all the nitty gritty details of their job.

she recognizes, with a delighted and gentle smile, that they're decorating the interior for autumn. paper leaves strung together. doodles on the chalkboard menu. cutouts of pumpkins placed throughout the display boxes.

they hum to themselves as they work. amanda finds it soothing. she always does. because y/n always seems so endearingly lost in their own bubble- amanda feels something that sounds like envy but feels much softer.

she tracks her eyes with their movements, lulling her into a calm.

amanda does not mean to fall asleep. she is exhausted and the cafe is so warm and light compared to her residence. it's too easy when she does.

she doesn't fight back like she thinks she will. she recognizes she's dozing off too late for her mind to react.

it's the season-appropriate interior. the humming. a distinct beep from someone brewing coffee. increased foot traffic through the entryway. the dimmed yellow-y lights. the scent of perfectly spiced chai.

a clink of a ceramic mug on the tabletop stirs her. she doesn't feel ill this time, as she allows her body time to adjust before moving. before getting out of bed. she absently scratches the side of her neck.

"oh, geez," comes a whisper. "i didn't wake you, did i?"

amanda's eyes widen. she sits up more professionally, keeping her hands clasped in her lap.

"no," she replies. "it's fine."

y/n smiles at her. sparks flicker in amanda's heart- their expression feeling so personal and directional. they're not simply smiling; they are smiling at her. she feels close to melting- better than melting.

"good, good. i hope you like your drink, amanda."

they freeze. readjust their apron and looks at her concerned, embarrassed, too.

"it, um- it is amanda, right?"

she nods her head. the scene unfolding feeling so dreamlike. it's intoxicating.

"i- i see you in here all the time. i got your name from my coworker. that sounds-" they fluster. "his name is adam."

amanda lets herself react as y/n reacts. she chuckles. "yeah. he's- it's complicated."

they laugh. "oh, god, i bet! what isn't complicated with him?"

they're leaning against the headrest on the side of the booth opposite to her. it feels like friends reuniting. it's more than reconnection, whatever she is actually experiencing.

it's magical, though.

"oh, um-" they tap at their nametag, letters drawn with their own expertise. "y/n. i'm y/n. wait- shit, you've already known that."

amanda finds their humble fumbling endearing.

(y/n wants to say- "it's not every day i get to chat with my prettiest customer"- they feel too shy to even think of forming the letters in their mouth)

(amanda wants to tell them they have the sweetest voice she's ever heard. she thinks that might be overbearing and acts against her desires)

"we should- when you come back again, you should say hi to me before it gets busy."