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ckret2 · 10 months

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At long last, we get to see: this moment.

Chapter 11 of Human Bill Being The Mystery Shack's Hella Depressed Prisoner, featuring: Mabel giving Bill a ✨beautiful makeover✨—and Stan and Ford almost dying from laughter. And thus begins Bill & Mabel's inevitable befriending. Previous chapters here!

####

Every time Mabel had to use the stairs, she paused to look at Bill sitting in his window.

He never seemed to move.

A few days ago, it was creepy. Now, it was just kind of sad.

Last year, after Mabel and Dipper's parents had heard the whole story about their summer, they'd immediately packed the twins off to therapy—which Mabel didn't think was necessary, but whatever, if it made their parents feel better. (It had taken them some time to find a therapist who would engage with their barely-averted-apocalypse story at face value rather than search for the root of these "delusions.") At their current therapist's office, before each appointment, Dipper and Mabel had to fill out checklists that they gathered were to measure whether they'd come down with a case of depression—Please read the following statements and circle the word that shows how often they happen to you. Never, sometimes, often, always.

She'd filled out these things so many times that she could practically recite the list of statements by memory. Nothing feels very fun anymore. I have problems with my appetite. I have trouble sleeping. I have no energy for things. I feel like I don't want to move. Far be it from her to try to diagnose an evil demon monster space triangle who'd tried to murder everybody she knew, but. Well. You know. Sitting curled up in a window seat, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating... Yikes. She could only guess how he'd answer statements like I feel empty and sad or I feel worthless.

In Mabel's mind, there was a piece of paper. On that piece of paper were the faces of everyone currently living in the shack. Herself, Dipper, Waddles, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Soos, Abuelita, and Melody as an honorary part-time resident. Next to each of their faces, there was a sticker, reflecting their current overall mood. Right now, everyone had either a happy face or a flat-mouthed neutral face—not bad, but could be better.

As she looked at Bill, she mentally promoted him at last from "entity haunting the attic" to "temporary resident." She added his face to her imaginary paper. And she slapped a big blue crying sticker next to it.

She wouldn't stand for that. Not even from him. Not under her roof.

####

Today, Bill wasn't even in the window. He'd elected to curl up in a corner of the attic, hiding in the shadows with his stolen blanket. The window was probably too hot. Mabel typically used acrylic yarn, and she knew from experience how quickly Sweater Town could turn into Sweaty Town.

For the first time, Mabel sauntered, quite casually, across the invisible barrier separating the rest of the attic from Bill's nest. She offered her winningest smile and her cheerfullest, "Hey, Bill!"

The Thing Beneath The Blanket gave her a look that, she suspected, could probably be described as deeply suspicious. "Shooting Star."

"Yup! Haha! That's—that's me all right! You got me." Mabel laughed. (This was going great so far. This was very natural.) "So, anyway!" She grabbed one of the couch cushions Bill had been using as a bed, dragged it a little closer to the corner, and plopped down. "This is such a weird coincidence, but one time, I got gum stuck in my hair and had to shave it off! I mean, crazy, right?"

"Uh huh." Bill didn't sound impressed. "Second grade." (And Mabel was uncomfortably reminded of the first time she'd ever seen Bill. I know lots of things.) "Hey, since you brought it up, can I ask you something about that little incident?"

"Uh..." This was what you signed up for, Mabel. You volunteered for a conversation with Bill. You've gotta converse. "Sure, I guess."

He leaned forward, triangle face looming above her. "Did getting gum in your hair change your species? Did you still look like yourself when you shaved it off?" The face bobbed as he pantomiming looking her up and down. "You still look human to me! So what's your point."

Okay, so he'd immediately recognized she was trying to establish common ground, aaand he was throwing it in her face. Great start. "Jeez, don't be so mean! I'm trying to tell you I get it. Not... the species part, but the other part. I wanna help!"

Bill scoffed. "Sure you do."

"Really!"

"Why?"

"Because you're all sad and it's making me sad."

Bill, o wise and ancient being that he was, had heard of "empathy" in a conceptual sense. He was aware that it was a thing that happened to some people. He even knew that it was common among humans. But on some level he kinda sorta felt like it only really happened to mindreaders that didn't know how to establish proper psychic boundaries. He laughed in Mabel's face. "No, seriously! What are you getting out of this."

Mabel decided she had no interest in explaining compassion to an alien mass murderer. "Okay, I want Soos's blanket back. I gave it to him, not you."

"Fine. If you want his blanket back, make me one."

"What? No! Those are our Team Zodiac-That-Defeated-You blankets, you don't get one."

"Didn't you make one for everybody else on the wheel? I'm on the wheel, aren't I?" He pointed at his face. "Bam! There I am, right in the middle! Star of the show! If everyone else deserves a blanket, so do I."

"Why do you even want one? It's a symbol to kill you."

"It's got my face on it! It's not that deep." He crossed his legs and propped his chin in his hand, getting more comfortable. "So do I get to pick the colors? I'll take yellow if that's all you got, but if you get me metallic gold I think I can swing you a favor."

"I'm not making you a blanket," Mable said. "I was thinking maybe a wig?"

Bill shuddered. "Pass."

"Aw, come on! I bet I could find you a really cute wig. Summerween's coming up, I could go to the costume store—"

"Don't even think about it." Bill leaned away from Mabel, back into his corner. She was losing him. "Listen. Kid. Do you think I did this by accident?" He pointed vaguely toward his scalp. "Being stuck in a human body? Disgusting. Being a human and secreting fifteen miles of hair out of a hundred thousand of pores? Infinitely worse."

"Wait, wait, fifteen miles?" Mabel had never considered how long a full head of hair laid out end-to-end would be. "How much hair do I have?"

"Huh." Bill tilted his head consideringly. "How dense is your hair?"

"Super dense. I've broken multiple brushes."

"Could be up to fifty miles."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Whoa."

"And you've got fifty thousand miles of blood vessels," Bill added cheerfully. "Anyway, if you want this blanket back? You won't get it with a wig. All I want is to look..." he formed his fingers into a triangle, thumb to thumb and forefinger to forefinger, and held it over the face on the blanket, "... like this. Now, if you're offering to help me get my real body back—"

"Never in a million years."

"Didn't think so!" Bill retreated fully into his corner again, knees pulled back up under the blanket, like an eel hiding in a hole to await its next prey. "But hey, if you've got an offer that's a step up from the blanket, I'm willing to negotiate."

"Huh." Mabel frowned thoughtfully. Something triangly. Something triangly that was better than a blanket, without helping Bill return to full power.

She got to her feet. "Let's put a pin in this conversation and circle back to it later. I'll come back with some proposals for you to review."

Bill laughed. "Okay, business girl! Have your people call my people. You know where to find me."

Mabel leaped down the stairs three at a time, ideas already forming in her head.

####

"Hey, Grunkle Ford!"

Ford was sitting at the former controls of the interdimensional portal, studying some radar readings; but he glanced up with a smile when Mabel ran out of the elevator. "Mabel. What brings you down here?"

She dragged an office chair up beside Ford, plopped down in it, and spun a couple of times. "I need to ask some questions about Bill!"

Ford's smile faltered. "Ah."

"Last summer, when we were burning all your art of him—"

(Ford winced in embarrassment.)

"—you said he could do some kind of magic with pictures of his face? What's all that about?" She stopped spinning. "Do they give him more power? Can he fire lasers out of them, or...?"

"No, nothing like that, thank goodness. Depictions of his face granted him a different kind of power: the power of knowledge. When he was trapped in the Nightmare Realm, he could tap into our world's collective mindscape and see through drawings of himself as if they were cameras. Ironically, plastering images of his face everywhere to symbolically represent an 'all-seeing eye' is what made him so all-seeing in the first place."

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. "Did you know you talk like one of those experts they hire to explain things in history documentaries?" she asked. "You should be on TV. You'd be good at it."

Ford gave her a confused smile. "Er—thank you."

"So, if Bill's already here, making new pictures of his face doesn't do anything?"

He supposed she was wondering about the zodiac blankets she'd spread around town. "Probably not. At a minimum, he'd have to be in the mindscape to be at the right 'angle' to see through the eyes. As he is now, trapped in a human form?" Ford let out a slow, thoughtful sigh. "It's hard to say for sure, without knowing how he got to be this way or what kinds of powers he's still hiding... but based on everything I've seen so far, I doubt they do anything for him."

"And if somebody put a picture of him on his face, it wouldn't do anything at all! Because that's like, his face. He already has eyes there."

Ford chuckled. "I suppose that's true. It would be like he'd grown a third eyeball, that's all." He paused. Put a picture of him on his face? "Why do you ask?"

Too late; she was halfway to the elevator. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford! I'll see you at dinner!" And she was gone.

####

"What's all this?" Bartholomew asked.

Mabel was dumping a bag of costume makeup and cheap convenience store makeup palettes onto her bed. They sparkled in varying hues of tacky gold glitter. "Art project!" She scooped Bartholomew out of his cradle by Dipper's bed, climbed the rickety ladder to the storage loft over their bedroom, and set him down leaning against a box. "You're on guard duty. Stay quiet and if anything goes wrong, get Dipper."

"How do you expect me to get Dipper? I'm a doll. I can't move."

"Come on, Mew-Mew. You think we haven't noticed that you teleport when nobody's looking?"

Bartholomew paused. "Touché."

Mabel rummaged through her art supplies; put tape, glue, and a couple of flattened cardboard boxes on the bed; added all the yellow crayons, markers, and paints she could find; and finally, satisfied, she ran out of the room. "Bill!"

"Still here."

"I've got the perfect solution. I'm giving you..." Mabel posed, hands on her hips. "A makeover!"

Bill waited for the follow up. There was no follow up. "Heh."

"Laugh now, but before I'm finished, I'm gonna make you more beautiful than your wildest dreams!"

"Kid, with all due respect, your idea of 'wild' taps out where my dreams are just getting started."

"Then I'll just have to up my game, won't I?" Mabel held out her hand. "Just give me that blanket, show me that weird bald head of yours, and let me make it into a canvas for high art! Trust me!"

Bill contemplated her extended hand. Did he trust her? In most situations, he considered trust irrelevant. He expected most people to do whatever they thought would benefit themselves the most; sometimes that meant keeping their word, and sometimes it didn't.

On the other hand. Was he really curious to find out where she was going with this? Yes. And the worst thing she could possibly do to him was make him very slightly more ugly than he already was. And playing along would fill his empty afternoon.

"Okay, kid." He reluctantly handed the blanket over. "You haven't given me a bad makeover so far." (He hadn't actually seen her marker mask, but it never hurt to flatter the person about to paint all over you.) He stood and stretched. "Show me what you've got. But if I don't like it, you owe me a blanket."

"Yes!" She grabbed his hand—his whole arm immediately went stiff—and dragged him toward the bedroom. "Welcome to my salon!"

####

Sure enough, just like Ford had said—when Stan checked Bill's attic nest, there was no sign of him.

Stan didn't like that one bit. Where the hell had their prisoner gotten off to?

As Stan approached the attic bedroom, he could hear Mabel talking: "More glitter?! That's crazay! Okay, here goes! I bet you could pull off such a glam rock look." (That explained where the kids were. He'd been starting to wonder.) "Hold still, I'm gonna try something I saw on a Russian supermodel—"

"Kids," Stan called, "do you know where the demon went?" He opened the door. "Poindexter says he can't find him anywhere, and—"

Mabel was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the widest variety of makeup brushes and palettes Stan had ever seen. Her fingers and sleeve cuffs were coated in gold glitter and paint.

Kneeling in front of her, with his legs splayed awkwardly and his hands on the floor like he wasn't sure how to lower this body down to Mabel's height, was Bill. His face was liberally coated in acrylic gold paint and amateurishly contoured with a mix of craft glitter and golden eyeshadow. One eye was shut—the eyelashes delicately dusted with more gold eyeshadow to help it blend in—while the other was coated in a layer of mascara so thick it was a miracle his lashes didn't glue shut when he blinked.

And to cap off the gilded absurdity, his face was sticking through a hole in the middle of a cardboard triangle helmet, painted sunflower yellow with bricks shakily traced on in marker. Bill looked like the poor kid assigned the part of "the pyramid" in a fourth grade class play about ancient Egypt.

Mabel and Bill stared at Stan.

Stan stared back.

He covered a snort with a cough. "I'll—I'll tell Ford you've got it handled." He slammed the door.

He let out a bellow of laughter.

Mabel put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "He doesn't understand avant-garde fashion. You look like a million dollars."

"I know," Bill said. "All the same—maybe a hat would class things up a little?"

Mabel reached for a sheet of black construction paper. "You're so right."

####

"Well?" Mabel leaned around Bill, trying to see what he looked like in the full-length mirror. "What do you think?"

Bill stared in the mirror. A horrific abomination of flaking paint, cakey makeup, and taped-up cardboard stared back.

He grinned so wide it cracked his face paint. "I think that's the hottest human being in history."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist into the air.

####

Ford said, "Stanley, what is it?"

Stan wheezed until his lungs ran out of air.

Concerned, Ford leaned across the kitchen table, lacing his hands together. "Did you find Bill?"

"M—Mhmm."

"He hasn't hurt Mabel, has he?" Ford asked, flashing back to their conversation earlier. "Or—or Dipper? Anyone?"

Stan bit his lip and shook his head. Tears of laughter pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Did he... put some kind of laughing curse on you?"

Stan shook his head more emphatically. "H—" He couldn't get one syllable out before he had to choke back his laughter again. He pounded on the table.

Grasping at straws and defaulting to the first worst case scenario he could think of, Ford said, "He hasn't found a way back to his true form, has he?"

Stan let out a noise like a balloon that had been untied and unleashed to fly around the room. "I MEAN—"

"Gooood afternoon, gentlemen!" Beaming brightly enough to rival the sun, twirling an umbrella like a cane, Bill strutted in.

Ford clapped one hand on Stan's shoulder, clapped the other over his mouth, and turned away, shoulders shaking. Stan smacked Ford's arm in sympathetic hysteria.

"I see we're all in high spirits today!" With the brazen confidence of an illegitimate prince marching into a throne room to demand his crown, Bill strolled through the kitchen, barely sparing the Stan twins a glance. Mabel followed behind him, grinning from ear to ear. "I wouldn't mind some spirits, myself." He paused in front of the fridge. "Could someone—?"

As the closest person to the fridge, Ford pulled it open, then turned to watch so he could make sure Bill didn't do anything he shouldn't with the food. This required him to look in Bill's direction. He curled his lips into his mouth and bit down. His eyes watered.

"Finally." Bill hungrily surveyed the inner contents of the fridge, grabbed an armload of condiments, a jar of pickles, and a tub of leftover chicken nuggets, and dumped them on the nearest counter. He tried to reach for a bottle of spoiled corn syrup toward the back of the fridge, banged the sides of his cardboard helmet on the fridge's doorframe, and quickly backed off and felt the corners to make sure they weren't too damaged. He had to turn sideways to reach the bottle without hitting the edges of the fridge. One corner of his mask tipped over a bottle of apple juice. Watching this performance very nearly killed the Stans.

"There." Bill triumphantly set the bottle on the counter, grabbed a can of alphabet spaghetti off an open shelf, and asked, "Where do you have the bowls hidden?" He rapped on one of the cabinet doors with his umbrella.

The sight of the umbrella knocked Ford out of some of his hysteria. "Where did you—?" He snatched the umbrella out of Bill's hands. "No weapons."

Bill gave Ford a withering one-eyed look (Ford suspected his other eye was glued shut with paint), then elected to ignore him. "Shooting Star?"

"They're down here!" Mabel opened one of the base cabinets. Bill retrieved a bowl and started filled it with his condiment haul.

"Okay," Stan said, voice strained with suppressed laughter. "Okay, what—what are we looking at?"

"A masterpiece of cosmetic art," Bill said. Mabel's grin widened.

Ford elbowed Stan across the table. "Do you remember the 'living statue' performers on the Glass Shard Beach boardwalk?" he asked. "The ones who'd paint all their skin and clothes gold—?"

"Oh yeah!" Stan let out a bark of laughter. "That's exactly what he looks like!"

In his bowl, Bill had layered mayonnaise, Tabasco sauce, mustard, sour cream, and maple syrup, and carefully stuck in as many chicken nuggets as he could without the mix slopping over the edges. He got Mabel's help to stick it in the microwave, then turned toward the Stans with a smug grin. "So you agree that I look like a work of art."

"No," Stan said, "they looked like idiots, and so do you."

Bill scoffed. "You don't know anything! You look at a human body, and all you see is a human with things stuck on it. I can look at a human body and see a canvas. I've stripped this vessel of its association with humanity and transformed it into an idol of myself."

Mabel loudly cleared her throat.

"Okay, she did most of the work."

Ford seriously considered the artistic merit of Bill's proposed "human body sans humanity as art material" paradigm. After a moment of deliberation, he said, "You have cardboard taped to your face."

Stan slapped the table. "HA!"

Bill opened a can of alphabet spaghetti, slopped half into a glass, filled the rest with incredibly spoiled corn syrup, and then filled the can with corn syrup as well. The mixes bubbled threateningly. The absolute picture of good cheer, Bill announced, "I'm the most beautiful thing any of you have ever seen. It's just too bad your closed little minds can't enjoy the marvel in front of you." He stirred his toxic alphabet spaghetti concoction with a pickle spear.

Stan watched Bill mix his drink in mild alarm. "What in the world are you making?"

Bill held his wrist over the glass and a knife to his wrist. "A Bloody Mary."

Stan's alarm increased. "No you aren't."

"That's your opinion."

"Where did you get—!" Ford leaned over to snatch the knife out of Bill's hand.

"It was in the fridge, it was sticking out of the leftover casserole!" Bill rolled his eye. "Re-lax! I wasn't pointing it at you." He lifted his drink, nearly poured it into his eye, caught himself at Mabel's shout of alarm, took a sip through the correct hole, then inspected the thick gold lip stain left on the rim. "Huh." He looked at Mabel.

She shrugged. "I could have set the makeup with baby powder, but I thought it might dim some of the sparkle."

"You chose form over function. I respect that." He sipped his drink more carefully.

The microwave went off, Mabel opened the door, and Bill scooped up his condiment-and-nugget stew and both alleged Bloody Marys. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go be handsome somewhere else—"

The corner of his cardboard helmet banged into the kitchen doorway. He dropped one of his drinks, stumbled against the wall, and looked in dismay at his syrup-and-spaghetti-sauce-soaked skirt. He turned to Mabel. "How's my head?"

She grimaced. "We... can fix that with tape."

Bill sighed. "Come on, let's do it before my nuggets get cold."

"Now hold on!" Ford stood up. "Are you going to clean this mess up?"

"No!" Bill was out of the room. Ford could already hear him tripping on the stairs. "You don't trust me with a mop!"

Well. It was true, they didn't trust him with a mop. Sighing, Ford trudged across the room. "I'll get it."

Stan said, "You know, I think I'm glad he looks like an idiot. He's been so mopey the last couple of days, I was almost starting to feel bad for him."

"Thank goodness, you too," Ford muttered. "I was afraid I was going soft."

"Nah, he really was that pathetic," Stan said. "Like a sad show poodle that doesn't understand why it's been shaved in weird shapes."

Ford barked a laugh.

Once the floor was clean, Ford confessed, "I've—actually really worried about that. Going soft, I mean. I'm... afraid that Bill could find a way back into my head."

"Literally or emotionally?"

"Emotionally." Ford paused. "Both, actually—but this time I mean emotionally. The night he burned his hair off, I..." He winced at himself; but he needed to tell Stan. There was no one else he trusted to give him a reality check. Maybe Fiddleford, but... Ford hadn't figured out how to approach him about all this yet.

He put back the mop, to have an excuse to pause and gather his words. "I... brought him something to eat," Ford mumbled. "And, told him I knew what it was like to be trapped in an alien universe, and—that he should take better care of himself, for his own sake—and I don't know why I said that, anything good he does for himself just makes things harder for us, it's not as though I forgot that, but—What? Stanley, why is this funny."

Stan had started laughing; but he cut it off a cough. "Sorry. It's just—do you remember how Mom would go 'Well, I can tell you two are related' any time we did something particularly—you know—twinnish?"

"Don't tell me you've been making sandwiches for Bill."

"Ha! No, but I've given my arch nemesis a pep talk when he was having a mental breakdown. I felt bad for him!"

Ford chuckled. "Really?" He dropped back into his seat. "I didn't know you have an arch nemesis, who's that?"

Stan considered Ford's reaction if he admitted that his nemesis was that ten-year-old with a crush on Mabel, and said, "Ah, he's been out of my hair for ages. So what, is that all you talked about?"

"Somehow it turned into him trying to convince me he'd been planning a welcome party when I fell through the portal."

"Ha! And did you believe him?"

"Absolutely not." Ford paused thoughtfully. "But—part of me wonders whether he believes it himself."

"He seems like the kind of guy to buy his own bull." Stan shrugged. "I don't think you have to worry about him getting in your head. Just don't let him fast-talk you into any decisions and don't buy anything he's selling without telling him you'll think it over for twenty-four hours. And the more he says decide now, the harder you say no. That's how the pros get you, they don't give you room to breathe, let alone think."

Ford was pretty sure Stan was just describing the Mystery Shack's souvenir sales strategy; but he nodded slowly. "I know exactly what you're talking about. When I gave him permission to pilot my body, between the first time he mentioned it was an option and the moment I agreed to it... well, I was asleep at the time, so I can't be sure how long it took—but I'd guess it was less than fifteen minutes. In retrospect, I couldn't believe that I'd agreed so thoughtlessly. But I suppose that's exactly what he wanted." No room to breathe was a good way to describe it. Never mind being nose-to-nose with somebody trying to pressure you into a sale—how do you take a step back to get a little space from somebody who's already inside your head?

"Did he make it sound like a limited-time-only deal? You know—'buy now while the price is low, you'll regret missing this offer'? But with more mystical woo-woo phrasing, I mean."

"Not exactly, but..." Ford tried to remember back that far, grasping for the details of the conversation—the real conversation, not the heady, excited version he'd summarized in his journal. "At the time, I'd been worried about falling behind schedule on the portal's construction. He wouldn't have had to introduce an element of tension—it was already there. All he had to do was exploit it." He shook his head. Falling behind schedule. What schedule—the one he, himself had made? He was sure Bill had encouraged him to finish as fast as possible, too.

"There, you see? You got swindled by a professional swindler," Stan said. "What's important is that you know what he is now, and you know his tricks. He won't get you the same way twice. I'm not worried about you."

There were a couple of odd thuds from upstairs, accompanied by a yelp from Bill. That wasn't odd; he'd proven to be remarkably clumsy in a human body. At any given time it was possible to tell where he was by the random bangs, and if he hadn't made a noise in the last five minutes it meant he was curled up safely in his window seat.

What was odd was hearing Mabel's voice: "Careful, careful—! Augh. ... I'll get another sheet of cardboard, we'll replace that!"

Stan and Ford looked warily toward the stairs. Stan muttered, "Mabel, on the other hand..."

Ford nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

####

(If you've read this far, I'd really appreciate hearing from you! Things you liked, things you're looking forward to, jokes, thoughts, even typo corrections. Thanks!)

#mabel pines #grunkle stan #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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how to disappear | d. targaryen

Description: part two of two white butterflies. three years later, you come up with a song that explains your love for him - and you are comfortable enough to share it with the public. Pairing: accomplished!daemon targaryen/singer!reader

He always put you first.

If there was a zombie apocalypse, he'd probably find a way to keep you safe. He was your hero - the knight in shining armor.

"Fuck," he cursed while holding you steady. The last thing on your checklist was experiencing an earthquake. "Are you okay?" he whispered, keeping a hand on top of your head - and the other steady on the leg of the table.

You hold onto his forearm tightly, in fear that the earthquake would get worse. "(Your Name)," he called your name - worry seemed to be etched into his handsome face. "I-I'm okay," you mumble, seeing that the ground stopped shaking a few moments ago.

The manager emerges from underneath the table, carefully ushering the other guests to an open field. "I was so scared," you exaggerated, crawling away from the table. "You're safe with me," he promised, helping you stand up and follow the rest of the crowd.

y/nupdates: mom and dad out for a swim, (exclusive picture)

78 comments 12,890 likes

luvgibellz: y/n stans stop being crazy for one second challenge

bhadidfiles: She's literally a priv citizen, y ya'll taking pics of her

ima_omir: her bf is kinda hot doe....

"I don't know how to swim," you giggled while he led you deeper into the ocean. The salt never settled properly with your hair - and you couldn't stand the feeling of seaweed on your toes. "Hold me, babe." he chuckled, placing both of his arms around your waist.

You kept staring at his features - and he kept you floating. "Why're you looking at me?" he smiled, moving your body around the water. "I don't know - I just feel accomplished," you hum, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. "Huh?" he frowned - a small laugh exited your mouth.

"You were so different before we were together." you commented, and his face softened at the insinuation. It was true, he was a different man. All he ever did was fuck, nothing else. "You changed me, then." he grinned - placing another kiss on your lips.

(your full name): Three years later, still writing songs for my one and only. I got so proud of this one - I wanted to share it with you. 🦋

189,345 comments 5,678,012 likes

theworldofash: "I LOVE THAT MAN LIKE NOBODY CAN" babe you ate and left no crumbs

whotfislanaj: I spy with my eye a butterfly, IS THIS A CONFIRMATON OF 'DID U KNOW THAT THERE'S A TUNNEL UNDER OCEAN BLVD' ??

Another laugh exits your mouth as he brings out his recorder. "But I love that man, like nobody can." you giggle while strumming your decade old guitar. A faint smile graces his lips - focused on listening to the song.

"He moves mountains and pounds them to ground again." you sing, placing the guitar down as his body moves closer.

"Love you." you hum, and he turns the recorder off.

"Love you more."

next part

@watercolorskyy

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 6 months

Text

Good Omens Fic Rec: Omens On Baker Street (Good Omens/BBC Sherlock Crossover Series)

The Ineffable Game Sherlock and John are no longer the only crime-solving disaster duo in London. After Sherlock unknowingly wrongs a demon, he finds himself with two mysterious rivals in the detective scene. For Crowley and Aziraphale, it's just a bit of fun, but they end up learning more about human nature than they bargained for. London Falling It’s time to start reconnecting. It's been a long time since John and Sherlock first came face-to-face with the supernatural. Crowley and Aziraphale now spend their days bickering in the South Downs instead of London. Life seemed to be getting back to normal... Unfortunately, 'normal' is only a relative term. Welcome Home Tulip arrives in the South Downs, and finds that starting a new life isn’t as easy as she first thought. Luckily, she now has a family to fall back on.

Length: 155,306 words (full series)

AO3 Rating: Not Rated (but basically PG13)

Best for: Pick-Me-Up, Safe in Public, Comedy

Triggers: Brief Violence

Read it here, series by WorseOmens

Personal Rant: I've been ignoring this one for months. I'm sure I'll bring it up plenty, but BBC Sherlock was my life 10 years ago. Reviewing fics on fuckyeahjohnlockfanfic was such a joy and I have so much fondness and nostalgia for that part of my past. Good Omens is the first time I've engaged in fandom at all since then. I was betrayed by Season 4, I had lost my love for fan spaces, tumblr was emptying. I moved on. But the day I finished Good Omens season two I dived headfirst back into this world. It's been nonstop every day since then for me. I started reading 2-3 fics a DAY again. I kept thinking how insane it would be to start reviewing again. But this series? Idk, I didn't think I wanted to engage with Sherlock again. I thought it'd be too weird, maybe too cringe to indulge in something I thought I "grew out" of. But since I've been working on this new review blog I thought it was time. And oh my god I can't tell you how good this felt. I feel like my Moffat induced heartbreak is starting to heal. So enough about me, let's talk about this series.

*Minor Spoilers* I'll let you guys find out for yourselves just how it happens, but let's say eventually Sherlock and John team up with Aziraphale and Crowley. The first series is set just after the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, and in Sherlock canon in between S1 and S2. The second installment is set post S4 of Sherlock. I am overwhelmed by how much I enjoyed this series. I had assumed I knew how this would go. I thought it was going to be a predictable checklist of crossover tropes. My eyes were practically rolling before I gave this a chance. I wanted to hate it, maybe to prove that I was totally over my past love of Sherlock. But its good. It's entertaining, it's surprising, it's funny, it makes sense.

This is mostly a Good Omens story. If you were never that into Sherlock you'll mostly be able to follow along fine, but I'm not sure the opposite is true. Crowley and Aziraphale are sickeningly in love, and I ate it up. Their relationship is established by the time this starts, but it's been maybe a year (?) since the Notcalypse. John and Sherlock are firmly in their canon of "I'm not his date". I can't spoil it for you, you'll have to see yourself, but how John reacts to Aziraphale just took me out. I was shocked. I had to walk around for a bit. It was unexpected, bold, I wanted to hate it and I loved it. It shouldn't have made sense! Moving on before I spoil...I just can't believe that this series took all the assumptions I had about the rapport between all of them and just chucked them out. Characterizations are all amazing, though I feel Sherlock's presence was a little quiet at times. I feel like he should have noticed more was off sooner than he does. But that can all be explained by supernatural interference so I don't really care too much. This plays with Sherlock canon in such a way that's just like, oh totally that actually makes perfect sense. And it's so smart to skip over past plot lines that it knows we're familiar with. We don't need to go over scenes we all have ingrained in our memories, let's enjoy the story happening right now. And it handles S4 so well. The thing that ruined Sherlock for a lot of people. It's not waved away, but just moved on from and brings Rosie into the second series.

I could spend days in this combined universe. I love the banter between Crowley and Aziraphale. They’re also very Gomez and Morticia here. Very secure in their relationship and madly in love. Extremely possessive Crowley, so expect some fun moments with that. Protective of each other, but also have complete trust in the other’s ability. I love their clumsy half hearted attempts at being human and that it completely goes over everyone's heads. Come on Sherlock! Cosmo and Wanda aint slick!! It's fun and silly. It's the kind of fanfic that makes your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. But it's not shallow. It has some excellent insight. Even though Sherlock and John are not the stars here, they still get their moments to shine. In the second installment there is a line about their bond being foraged not in the danger of their lives but in the quiet and gentle in-between and I wanted to cry. It was so healing for my broken Johnlock heart.

This post is much too long already. If you are a fan of both series, just do me a solid and read it. I just know you'll like it. Embrace the silly, warm your heart with the rest, and enjoy it. It's completely safe for public, but it was incredibly annoying to have to keep walking away from it. My next read will be at home, and very soon.

Read it here, series by WorseOmens

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messrmoonyy · 1 year

Text

It’s the apocalypse, sweetheart

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

Prompt- I did accidentally delete the original prompt but it was along the lines of ‘ reader is Bills niece and has raised her since she was little. When Tess and Joel visit her and Tess are a little flirty and they end up sharing a kiss ‘

A/N- let me first say. I literally re wrote this ENTIRE thing at 3am this morning. Idk what writing god possessed me. But. Here it is. And yk 2010 Tess was truly a blessing and I will take any and all opportunities to write about her. I love these more creative prompts. If anyone has seen Orange is the new black Bill and reader are totally giving Frieda and her dad vibes in this cause that’s what I was watching when I wrote the first half lmao

Warnings- I don’t think there’s any. I can’t even put my usual ‘Tess’ warning cause 2010 Tess is a soft baby lmaoo.

Word count- 8k ( I’m so sorry )

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

You sat in silence, eyes on the screens in front of you, your fingers drumming nervously against your leg. Officers had been in town all day, pulling people from their homes and loading them up onto trucks. They’d been lurking in town since yesterday morning, after putting up the notice that the town would be placed under mandatory evacuation with 24 hours notice. Fencing the town off and pushing evacuation notices through everyone’s door.

You and your uncle, Bill, had been tucked away in the bunker for the last 3 days anyway. Ever since you’d watch the news on outbreak day, watched as the world had gone to shit over night.

But thankfully for you, Bill had basically been preparing for something like the current situation his entire life. He’d seemed almost excited by the entire thing at first, finally able to give a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone that had called him stupid for preparing.

Though mind controlling fungus hadn’t exactly been on his doomsday checklist, he was prepared all the same. And therefore, so were you. Your entire life has practically lead up that exact moment.

Instead of sending you to the dance class in the town hall as a child, he’d taught you how to assemble a gun in the fastest way possible. Instead of buying you a nail kit for your birthday, he’d gifted you a knife. You’d thought it was pretty awesome, the girls in your math class hadn’t. But fuck them. You could see some of them clambering onto the trucks, crying and holding onto their mothers.

Dance practice wasn’t looking so practical now was it.

The sound of footsteps above you halted your fingers, muffled talking of the officers trying to clear the house. Bill turned to you with his finger to his lips and you nodded. You weren’t stupid. The officers walked around, calling out for anyone home until you heard a faint ‘ all clear sir! ‘ through the floorboards. And a smile tugged at your lips.

“ not today you new world order jack boot fucks “ Bill muttered reloading his gun as way of punctuating his sentence. You turned back to the cameras, watching as they loaded up the last trucks after deeming the house empty. Deeming the town empty.

“ what fuckin idiots “ Bill exhaled sharply though his nose beside you, some half attempt at a laugh. You watched the cameras as the trucks left town “ where do you think they’re taking them? “ Bill shrugged, pushing buttons on the keyboard to switch which cameras were showing on the screens.

“ closest city is Boston. But I doubt they’ve managed to lock it down yet. There’s more further out, smaller. Probably already full “ you nodded understanding what it meant for them.

What was it that you’d overheard an officer say?

Dead people can’t get infected.

You watched the trucks on the screen, all filing out of town in a trail. Like some fucked up snake weaving through the streets and out through the gates.

Bill flicked through the cameras once more before standing up, nodding towards your gas mask.

“ let’s go make sure it’s clear. Mask on. If there’s any left they might have tear gas. And grab your gun “ you pulled your mask on, letting Bill pull at it to make sure it was secure before he headed for the exit back upstairs. You picked up your gun, double checking it was loaded before following him.

He’d given it to you on your last birthday. After spending your whole childhood teaching you how to use them, assemble them. He’d decided you deserved one of your own ‘ just in case ‘, something a little more exciting than a knife.

“ I’ll take the front. You take the back “ you nodded, shaking the nerves out of your hands and taking a deep breath “ I prepared you for this. Don’t look so damn nervous “

He went up first and you followed close behind, gun up and ready to shoot at any fuck wit of an officer that might still be lingering. You headed for the back of the house, movements careful and precise as you checked over the kitchen and the back rooms before stepping out onto the back porch. You scanned the bushes at the end of the garden for any sign someone might be there, before deeming it empty.

You almost wanted to laugh. You loved your uncle and his quirky ways and plans. But a tiny part of you had always thought that maybe he was just insanely paranoid. But he clearly knew exactly what he was doing.

You made your way back through the house, finding Bill on the front path pulling off his mask. You stood next to him and did the same. Listening.

The town was silent. The wind in the trees and the sound of birds all that could be heard. And you did let yourself laugh then, tucking your gun into the holster strapped to your leg and folding your arms across your chest.

“ looks like we did it kid “

“ hell fuckin yeah “

“ they’re here! Bill!? Come on! “ you were startled awake from where you’d been napping on the couch, by Frank charging through the house and clapping his hands to grab your attention “ come on honey! You too! Up! And straighten those cushions back up again. I just picked them up on the outer perimeter cameras, they’ll be here any minute. Come on!” You squinted at him through your post nap haze, brain attempting to register what the fuck he was even talking about.

Frank had too much energy on a regular day, but today he seemed ten times more hyped up. You didn’t know how someone could be so cheerful in such circumstances. He’d even had a smile on his face when you and Bill had found him, bottom of the pit outside the fence. Though you guessed if you’d have been in his position, you’d have been happy too. Of all the places to end up, Lincoln was the safest.

You hadn’t trusted him entirely at first. But Bill had. You’d never seen him like that. Like some lovesick little puppy and you’d spent the night sulking out on the porch, ready to go in and shoot him in the face if you needed to.

Of course, you hadn’t.

“ were they armed? “ Bill appeared from where he’d been hiding in the kitchen for the majority of the day, somehow being convinced by Frank to cook a fancy ass meal for everyone. You smelt what you thought was chicken, your stomach growled in response “ just the two of them? “

“ just the two of them! And of course they’re armed, what you want them to walk all this way with no guns? Jesus Christ Bill “ your sleepy brain finally woke itself up enough to remember what was going on.

Frank had made… friends. You’d over heard him chatting away to some woman on the radio one night, had then let it slip to your uncle. And now they were coming to fucking visit. Bill had gone ape shit when he’d first found out. But Frank had his ways, he knew how to wiggle into the tiny little soft spot in Bills heart. No matter how deep. Deep. Deep. Down it was.

“ Honey. Will you please get up, sort your hair you look like you’ve been yanked through a hedge “ you scoffed at that but ran your fingers through your hair anyway “ make an effort would you. Both of you. This is good. Seriously we need some friends… especially you two “ Bills face matched your own, as it so often did, a frown and a look that simply said ‘ are you fucking with me right now? ‘

“ we don’t need friends “ Frank simply waved a hand of dismissal at Bill and walked over to you, nudging you with his arm

“ you’ll like Tess I think. She sounds really nice. And she’s not much older than you “

“ you make me sound like a little kid that’s going on a play date to the park “ you said with a sigh.

“ this is good. Friends. We need friends you need friends “ you scoffed at that and Frank just rolled his eyes “ only talking to your uncle and me is not healthy “

“ in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly surrounded by options to talk. Oh shall I go sit outside the fence and chat to an infected? Frank, I think theres worst things to worry about than my social life, and lack there of “

“ you. Are just like your uncle Jesus Christ “ Frank said mostly to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment “ come on. They’ll be at the gate any minute. Time to make friends. Whether you like it or not “ part of you did think that maybe. Just maybe. It would be nice to talk to someone that wasn’t your uncle or Frank. Especially another woman. You’d spent 7 years in the safety of the compound now, 3 of which had included Frank. Some new faces would be nice. But also. The world you lived in… there were no friends to be had anymore. No one you could trust.

In your- and Bills- eyes, this could all only end badly.

You and Bill were far too alike for your own good, that’s what Frank always said. But you had been with him practically your whole life, he was more of a dad to you than you real dad was. And yeah, maybe his forms of raising a child hadn’t been exactly… traditional. But you had a pretty good feeling that you were faring much better than the girls who had been at parties whilst you were being taught what to do if the world ever went to shit.

Which is exactly what had happened.

In fact you’d watched most of them get carted away on outbreak day. Whilst you and Bill had sat silently in the bunker and watched, listened to them searching the house above you to make sure they left no one behind. Stupid fucks.

You and Bill had only needed each other. You hadn’t had friends then. And you didn’t really want them now. But you decided to humour Frank at least.

So as you finally dragged yourself away from the couch, you grabbed the gun you’d left on the coffee table when you’d gone to sleep. Slipping it back into the holster on your leg and checking your pocket for your knife. Just to be safe.

Bill clearly had the same ideas as you had, as when you found him waiting for you at the front door he too had a gun strapped to his leg. It almost made you laugh at just how similar you both were.

“ c’mon kid. Let’s get this over and done with “ he grumbled and headed outside to where Frank was practically bouncing on the spot with excitement. Though he did drop his smile for a disappointed frown when he saw you two stroll down the porch steps sporting guns.

“ really? “ you simply shrugged and joined him in the road, arms folded over your chest. Frank went to walk towards the gate at the end of the street but Bill swung an arm out to stop him.

“ no. We wait here “

“ they’re not gonna sho- you know what fine. Here is fine. Let’s wait here! “ he said with a slightly forced sense of joy.

You tried to think slightly positive, if just for Franks sake. Trying to conjure up an image of who these people could be. You knew they were from the Boston QZ. That it was a man and a woman. And that was about it.

You were slightly surprised they’d even made it out this far, you didn’t know much about quarantine zones but you did know they were controlled by FEDRA. You wondered how they’d managed to get out, as far as you knew the only one and outs of a zone were for things like ration shipments or deliveries. Not visiting some strangers you found on a radio. You’d only had a small sampling of FEDRA yourself, the day they had come to clear the town.

Promises to the residents of taking them to a QZ. Taking them to safety. That staying in their homes would be dangerous.

They’d have faired much better if they had stayed.

You could still remember the day you and Bill had secured the outer perimeters of town, past the fences and gates. The shallow grave and the people left to rot. You could still remember the smell if you thought about it hard enough. Could still see the faces of people you had once walked by on the street, brought eggs from in the shop, lived across the street from. FEDRA had promised them safety and had done the complete opposite.

No wonder people wanted to leave the QZ.

“ there! I see them- you disabled the traps right? “ you gave a snort of a laugh in an attempt to conceal it, the thought that they might just blow up before they even reached the gate tickling you. And clearly Bill too, his lips twitching with a small smile “ I hate you both “

“ we’re well aware “ you all waited where you were as Joel punched in the temporary code Frank had given him over the radio, the static buzz sounding as it swung open. Frank was done waiting clearly, hurrying off towards them with a huge grin on his face.

“ that gun loaded? “ Bill asked in a low voice as you followed a few steps behind Frank.

“ obviously “

“ anything else on you? “

“ knife in my pocket “

“ that’s my girl “ as you drew closer and finally got a good look at your guests, you were mildly taken aback. You didn’t really know what you’d expected. Maybe some gnarled, scary and dirty pair of people. All you knew about QZs came from Frank and from what you knew they weren’t exactly great. But these people didn’t fit the thoughts.

The man had a stony face to rival Bills, dark hair and a slightly scruffy beard. But you weren’t interested in looking at him. But her? Her you were interested in looking at.

Maybe it was simply 7 years of having nothing but the posters of Kate Bush, Avril lavigne and Beyoncé on your walls to look at in terms of women, finally laying eyes on a real, non fungal looking, very much alive, woman again. She made you clam up for a moment, cheeks flushing and rational thoughts escaping you.

She was beautiful. There was no point trying to deny it when it was so plainly obvious. You didn’t know what you had expected. But it certainly wasn’t… her.

Maybe Frank had been right after all, you did need someone new to talk to. Because clearly your lack of human interaction over the years had rendered you absolutely useless in the face of new people.

“ it’s so amazing to finally meet you! “ you and Bill both hung back as Frank enveloped Tess into a hug then held his hand out for Joel to shake. You both must have looked a picture as Frank turned around mouthing ‘ smile! ‘ at the two of you. You threw him your best ‘ go fuck yourself ‘ smile and he sighed “ Tess, Joel. This is Bill. This is y/n. They’re not exactly huggers “

Joel held his hand out and Bill reluctantly took it, shaking it for a time far too short to be welcoming. But he was trying you supposed, for Franks sake. He took Tess’ hand next and then she turned to you. Your eyes flickered over to Frank who gave you a small nod and you looked back to Tess, taking her hand. In the way that Bills hand shake had been a second too short, yours was a second too long.

You attempted to ignore the blush on your cheeks and took Joel’s hand too.

“ you hungry? Bill is a wonderful cook. He’s prepared dinner for us all, do you like chicken? “

“ oh I’m starved “ Tess said with a smile, following after Frank as he gestured for them to follow him up to the house. You and Bill hung back again, arms folded over your chest as you watched Frank talking animatedly to Tess and Joel as he walked up the street.

“ you weren’t subtle “ Bill said in that almost light tone that only you- and maybe now Frank - could pull out of him “ blush a little harder next time I don’t think she noticed “

“ oh shut the fuck up I didn’t blush “

“ sure “

“ you’re in no position to talk to me about being subtle mr wine-and-dine-the-stranger-in-the-pit “ he grumbled something you didn’t quite catch and huffed

“ go change the gate code to what we discussed. I’m gonna finish the food “ you watched him head up the road, craning your neck to see Frank had Joel and Tess sat down in the garden already.

“ I didn’t blush. Fuckin asshole “ you muttered to yourself as you went about resetting the code on the gate. Of course that was complete bullshit. You knew you’d blushed like hell but you had hoped it hadn’t been noticeable. And if Bill had seen it. Tess clearly had. You wanted to slam your head against the gate and erase the whole thing from your memory. Is that why she’d smiled at you? Was she making fun of you?

Once the gate was reset you took a slow walk back up, trying to shake your embarrassment on the way. And create a plan to just completely avoid any and all eye contact and conversation with Tess until she left, seeing as you had social skills of a newborn baby apparently.

A solid plan.

As you pushed through the front gate Bill was placing down plates on the table, frown still etched on his face, placing them down a little too roughly so that a few peas nearly went rolling off the plate.

“ there she is! Just in time “ Frank said with his usual beaming smile, patting the empty chair next to him that would place you between him and Joel. And opposite Tess. Of course.

You took your knife from your pocket as you sat down and made a point of flicking the blade up, placing it beside you. Much alike the way Bill had his gun placed next to his fork.

“ I’m sorry about these two “ Frank sighed as everyone tucked in, Bills eyes trained inquisitively on Joel as he cut his carrots without even looking at them “ could you not?”

“ it’s okay. I’m the same “ Joel said in what you could almost make out as some attempt at a joke.

“ oh? You’re a paranoid schizophrenic too? “

“ I’m not schizophrenic “ Bill mumbled, eyes still glaring at Joel as he chewed on a chunk of his chicken. Tess turned her attention over to you, eyes narrowing a little in curiosity to find you already watching her.

“ and you? “ she asked, tilting her head to the side inquisitively. The eye contact almost felt like a challenge, and you held it as you sipped at your water.

“ I’m not paranoid. Or schizophrenic. I’m practical. You’re complete fucking strangers in a world where everyone is trying to fuck everyone else over. You can’t blame me, or him, for being a little on edge “ the look that grew on her face surprised you a little, a look that was almost… impressed by what you’d said.

“ that’s smart. That’s really smart “ your plan to withhold eye contact and conversation had failed ridiculously fast “ but look. I just want to say, guns and knife aside. Which I get by the way “ she said with a pointed look in your direction “ even if we don’t end up working together on anything, I’m happy we had this. A nice meal with civilised people? I needed this” she sounded genuinely sincere as she spoke. It made you wonder what the QZ was like again. How life differed there.

Of course it was different but… how different. How tough. How lucky were you really to be out there with just Bill and Frank. No officers telling you what to do, controlling where you went, rationing your food.

You all ate in silence for a few moments, your eyes flickering between Joel and Tess as she sighed around a mouthful of food.

“ what’s food like in the QZ? “ you asked, your curious brain getting ahead of your mouth.

“ not like this “

“ shit “ they both said at the same time and it made a smile pull at your lips.

“ I can’t remember the last time I had a vegetable that actually crunched “ she said with another blissful sigh, her eyes closing for a second. You looked away before you did something stupid like blush again “ and ate something with actual flavour “

“ we have mostly dried or dehydrated foods. Makes it last longer. Especially if it’s travellin cross country between QZs “ Joel added “ any of the good stuff gets snatched up by the FEDRA officers first. If you’re lucky you’ll get a 20 year old can of beans or somethin “

“ you know much about FEDRA? “ Tess asked, glancing around the table but eyes ultimately landing back on you as she sipped at her wine.

You and Bill both scoffed at that.

“ yeah. We know about ‘em “

“ couple days after outbreak day they cleared town. Told people they were gonna be safe. Going to a zone. You know what they did? Took them up the hill, and shot them all in the back of the head. Safe my fuckin ass “ you mumbled, taking another bite.

“ yeah. We saw the grave. Heard about that kinda thing but… not pretty “ Joel said with a shake of his head “ how’d you get away? “

“ he’s been prepping for this thing for years “ Frank said with a laugh and nudged Bills arm “ you’re looking at two real life preppers. I thought they were just made up for tv shows! Turns out they’re not “

“ survivalist not a prepper “ Bill grumbled.

“ like there’s any difference “

Conversation fell quiet again as everyone finished their food, Frank got Tess talking again once everyone was almost finished and you watched intently. Eyes locked on her as she spoke, not really even listening to her. Just watching. She looked ethereal in the late afternoon sun, her skin almost golden in the light. You weren’t exactly spoilt for choice these days when it came to getting to look at beautiful women, so you took all the chance you could get.

She caught you watching her once or twice, eyes flickering to meet yours, but you were far past caring if she saw you now. You’d embarrassed yourself enough to last a life time. So you might as well own it.

She didn’t seem to mind. In fact her face seemed to soften every time she looked over and found you were still watching her, almost as if she liked it. She didn’t come across as someone that constantly craved attention, constantly wanted people watching her and admiring her. So maybe she liked it because no one else was looking at her like that.

It made your eyes drift briefly over to Joel. They were together… right? You’d just assumed. But if they were surely he looked at her. Admired her. So why would she seem so flattered by your looks?

“ youll be staying next door, with y/n. It’s the only other house In town that’s fixed up, the spare rooms in our place have been taken over by Bill and his hoarding. She has the whole place to herself, plenty of room for you both “ your eyes darted over to Frank, tuning back into conversation as he readily offered them your place to stay without even asking you. He hadn’t told you about that. And some warning would’ve been nice about your new house guests.

And being stuck in the same building as Tess for the night was as terrifying as it was appealing. Having her just across the hall? You were barely surviving sitting outside with her. If she was in your house you’d have to talk to her. And not just wistfully stare at her from across the table.

“ I- what? “

“ thank you “ she said with a smile at Frank and then you.

“ why don’t you go show Tess around? “ Frank suggested and kicked you lightly under the table, a knowing look thrown in your direction. You scowled at him and he simply raised an eyebrow. God you hated him sometimes.

“ yeah. Sure “ you said, still scowling at him and his stupid fucking smile as you stood up from the table “ this way “ you didn’t wait for her, heading out of the garden gate and rounding to your own. You heard her footsteps behind you as you climbed the porch steps, pushing open the door and turning around “ after you “ she gave you another smile and a nod of thanks as she stepped inside.

“ whole house just for you? “ she asked as you closed the front door behind you. You hadn’t done all that much to it since you’d moved in. Frank had insisted you decorated a bit. He’d taken you around the old furniture store and made you swap a few of the things out, and you’d moved the stuff from your old room at Bills over. So it was a little more… you.

“ yeah. Figured I needed some space to myself as I got older so. We fixed this up. Moved in like a year after Frank got here. Gives them more privacy too “ she nodded, poking her head into the lounge and glancing around.

“ can I see upstairs? “ you nodded and followed a few steps behind as she went up. It felt weird to have someone in your space. Even Bill and Frank didnt go in too often.

She stopped at the top of the stairs and you pointed towards the spare bedroom

“ you can stay in there “ she headed in and looked around, hands on her hips.

“ wasn’t expecting this “ she walked over to the vanity, trailing her hand across the various trinkets that littered it and sending a small cloud of dust particles into the air, catching in the sun leaking through the curtains like glitter. You’d picked over the stuff in there years ago, taking the stuff you liked and leaving the rest. You hadn’t liked the family that had lived there before. So you actually quite enjoyed stealing their stuff “ you don’t strike me as a 1970s chic type of girl “

“ I don’t use this room “ you shrugged “ it’s how they left it. Minus a few things I liked “ she looked over to you with a smile at that, she picked up a bottle of perfume. It had gone yellow in its bottle from age and sunlight

“ not a fan of the perfume? “

“ she was like 50 something and always smelt like moth balls. I doubt it smelt any good then, never mind now “ she scoffed and placed it back down.

She moved over to the bed, pushing her hands down on the mattress and soothing her hands over the blankets.

“ almost forgot what a nice bed felt like. One we have in the QZ is thin as fuck “

“ most of the stuff here’s pretty nice. Most families in town were well off. The dicks that lived here were too, lucky for you. Smelt like moth balls but had a shit ton of cash “ she laughed a little and shrugged

“ Lucky me “

“ you can take anything you want out of here. I don’t need it. It’s mostly old lady shit but. Go for it “ she placed a hand on her chest and gave you an over dramatic look

“ wow. Just wow. Thank you. I’ve always wanted a girl to give me free reign at ‘ old ladies r us ‘. Some moth ball perfume? Man. You’re really spoiling me sweetheart “

Your breath hitched a little at the pet name. She’d been joking but it still made your cheeks prickle, made a funny feeling blossom in your chest.

If she noticed she didn’t say anything, simply averted her eyes to look around the room again.

You headed over to the en-suite then, clearing your throat lightly to try and appear as normal as possible. She turned to face you as you opened the door so she could look inside.

“ uhm. Bathroom. All the pipes and plumbing and shit works so you know. Use the facilities as much as you want to “ her eyes practically sparkled as you spoke and she walked into the room and over to the sink, turning on the hot tap and sighing as the water ran over her fingers.

“ hot fuckin water “ she said softly, mostly to herself it seemed “ in the QZ you get two types of water. Freezing or slightly less freezing. If it’s the summer and the suns been on the pipes you might get lucky and actually get lukewarm. Rationed too it shuts off after a few minutes “

You couldn’t imagine that. You loved being clean and warm, loved long showers that left the bathroom steamy or baths that you stayed in until the water was cold and your fingers pruned.

You really were starting to realise just how lucky you were in Lincoln. You’d probably be dead if you had gone to a QZ. You didn’t take orders well. And you liked your home comforts.

“ you can take a shower. If you want. I can get you some new clothes and there’s a bunch of soaps “ you said scratching your head a little nervously wondering if that would come off the wrong way, like you were insinuating she needed to shower. Which you weren’t. Of course. She seemed to spot the internal panic plastered on your face and smiled warmly at you

“ Now? Cause that’d be fuckin awesome “ you gave a small nod and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“ sure. And don’t worry. It’s not gonna shut off. Hot water might run out if you’re in there too long but give it a few minutes and it’ll heat up again “ she turned to face you with a genuine look of gratefulness in her eyes.

“ thank you. Really “ she took your hand and gave it a light squeeze. She did exactly what you had done when she arrived. She held it a little longer than she should of, her eyes soft as she held your gaze. You couldn’t figure out the exact colour of her eyes in the late afternoon light coming through the frosted glass of the window. If they were blue or more green.

You wanted to know. You wanted to see them in the bright morning sunlight. In the moonlight. In the winter sun. The summer sun.

You wished you’d paid more attention outside.

“ I’ll leave you to it then “ you said after a moment “ I’ll go get you some clothes, I’ll leave them on the bed for you “ she gave you a small nod and you stepped away, closing the door behind you.

Maybe you understood Bill more now on the day Frank had turned up. How incredibly strong a sense of longing could actually be for someone you didn’t really even know. How overwhelming it could suddenly feel.

You took a breath and closed your eyes for a moment. Before heading out of the room.

As you went into the storage closet at the top of the stairs to look for some decent clothes for her, you realised you hadn’t left her a towel. You hurried through into your own bathroom and grabbed one from the cupboard. It was probably nicer than one that had been boxed up for months on end. So you took it back through.

You knocked on the bathroom door, not hearing the water running yet and hoping you’d caught her before she got in.

“ Tess? I. I have a towel. Forgot to give you one “ the door opened a moment later and all words escaped you, mouth hanging open slightly and closing again like some kind of fish. She was stood there in her underwear, that same gentle smile on her face as if it were truly the most normal thing possible. That it was an everyday occurrence for you to see her stood there like that. You knew your cheeks were flaming and you cleared your throat slightly, avoiding looking at her at all and staring at the floor instead “ t- towel “

She took it from your hands and you chanced a glance up at her face to see her smile, eyes narrowed slightly in question. Could she see how flustered you were? Could she tell?

“ thanks. You okay? “ you turned on your heel and left the room before you could embarrass yourself further, not even giving her an answer.

“ fuckin idiot “ you muttered to yourself as you went back to the boxes of clothes and sighed. Had your lack of human interaction affected you that much? That one interaction with another had turned you into a silly stumbling mess of a girl. This wasn’t you. You were strong. Brave.

It made you think of Bill again. How he had all but melted on the spot after half a day with Frank in the house.

You were almost a mirrors image.

One meal. Letting him shower. Letting him stay.

You leant your elbows on one of the boxes, cradling your face in the your hands with a sigh. You had made fun of him then and still did. Yet now? Maybe you got it. Maybe you were more like him than you’d ever allowed yourself to accept or see. You had pushed down that deep, aching, yearning in your chest for so long just like he had.

Yearning and longing for… someone else. Someone that looked you the way people did in those stupid romance movies. But also saw you for what you were. Brave. Strong. Capable. Accepted it and nurtured it, protected but wanted to be protected right back. You had wanted it all along. But had suppressed it. Forced it down in favour of focussing on things you deemed more practical.

Exactly like Bill. And it had taken a whole fucking apocalypse to see it. With him. And you. Some stranger leaving a QZ. In your case though, that stranger was going back again. But she’d be back. You hoped.

You gave another sigh before looking though the boxes of clothes, looking for something that looked relatively decent for her. You plucked out a few options and too them back through into her room.

You could hear the shower running, a small stream of steam seeping under the door. She must’ve had the water as hot as she could stand. You placed the clothes down on the bed and tried not to think about the image of her behind the door. You wanted to know what she looked like, feel how soft her skin felt under the hot water, look and touch and map out every detail. See the way the water droplets caught on her eyelashes, trace patterns in freckles.

You left the room, suddenly feeling too hot. As if it were you under the stream of scalding water and not her.

You busied yourself with finding out some clothes for Joel too. You wondered what he was talking about with Bill and Frank outside.

Were they talking about Tess? Discussing relationships and telling stupid stories of how Bill met Frank and how Joel met Tess?

It made your chest hurt. And made you realise that maybe you weren’t in the same situation as Bill after all. Frank had been alone. Tess wasn’t. Tess had a… Joel. Whatever he was to her. And there you were getting flustered over her in the shower. Idiot.

You loitered by the storage closet for a while. A pile of clothes for Joel in your hands but not entirely sure what to do. You didn’t know if she was done yet. She hadn’t come out. If you listened carefully you couldn’t hear the water anymore. And you couldn’t stay on the landing all night.

So you headed over to the door again, knocking lightly. There was some shuffling for a moment and then the door opened and you clammed up again. It’s not like she’d looked… dirty before. But now she just looked. Clean. Her hair was wet and tied up on her head, her skin that shiny glowy pink that came from a hot shower. The clothes fit her well. And a waft of the coconut body wash she’d clearly used drifted into your nose. You used the same stuff yet it didn’t feel as dizzying on you as it did on her.

“ sorry. I was just- you okay? “

“ I’m good. Thanks for the clothes “ she said and walked back into the room, sitting down on the bed with a content sigh “ I haven’t felt this clean in so long “ you stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind you “ you don’t realise how good you’ve got it here “

“ I’m starting to realise “ you said softly, dropping the clothes for Joel onto the vanity and moving to sit beside her. She seemed almost wistful. Looking around the room and hand tracing the embroidery on the blanket absentmindedly.

“ how’d you end up here? With Bill and Frank? Frank was never really clear about it on the radio “

“ Bill is my uncle. My mom died when I was little and my dad was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. Thought a bottle of vodka was more important than a tin of baby milk. Bills the only other family I had, before my mom died she asked Bill to take care of me. He didn’t exactly want a kid but. I don’t know, he loved my mom. So. Here I am “

You didn’t like talking about your past much. You’d avoided it as much as possible before the outbreak, you hated the looks of pity you always got. You didn’t want pity. You couldn’t do anything with pity.

But Tess didn’t give you that look. Instead she smiled.

“ should’ve known you were related to Bill. You both frown the same “ you scoffed at that, but you knew it was true “ he’s been preparing you for this shit you whole life then? “

“ not this exactly. But something. Don’t poke fun at it. If it wasn’t for his smart thinking you wouldn’t have just had a hot shower “ it came out a little more snappy than you meant to and she raised her hands in mock surrender

“ I didn’t mean anything by- “

“ sorry. Sorry “ you sighed. You ran a hand over your face before standing up and deciding to just get out before you embarrassed yourself further “ I’ll leave you to it. I found some clothes out for Joel I’ll take them next door and- “

“ no no “ she reached out and grabbed your hand “ stay? I wanna talk to you more. It’s nice to talk to someone other than Joel “ you hesitated for a moment before sitting back down.

“ you don’t like talking to Joel? “ she shrugged and flopped backwards onto the mattress, throwing an arm over her eyes

“ his brother was the more talkative one. But he’s gone. He wants to save the world. Joined the fireflies “

“ like the bug? Is this some kind of metaphor or- “ Tess laughed at your clear confusion. An actual laugh. Not like the small little chuckles you’d heard once or twice in the day. You liked it. Liked the way it made her eyes crinkle and her nose scrunch.

“ are you being serious? I can’t tell “ you rolled your eyes with a huff, not exactly fond of her making fun of you “ okay. Serious “ she pulled at your arm until you lay down next to her and she smiled at you “ there’s a group. Trying to make things how they used to be. No FEDRA laws. They’re fancy terrorists basically “

“ and Joel’s brother joined them? “ Tess propped her self up on her elbow and turned to look at you.

“ Joel said he’s… ‘ a joiner ‘. He wants to change to world “ a lot of people wanted to change the world. And a lot of people failed at it “ it’s a shame. He was nice. Joel… he has his moments but. He’s not much of a talker “

“ And you are? “

“ maybe “ you were hyper aware suddenly at how close you were, lying there beside her and looking up at her.

Her eyes were green.

The setting sun outside was shining across her face and you could finally see them better. Green.

“ I don’t know if I’m much of a talker “ it came out far quieter than you’d meant it to, but she didn’t seem surprised by it.

“ i gathered that from the way you were just staring over dinner and not actually joining in the conversation “ your cheeks were aflame, your eyes blowing wide in a mild sense of horror. Of course you’d known she’d seen you watching her. But to have it confirmed out loud wasnt exactly what you were expecting. You went to sit up and escape the situation as fast as possible but she grabbed your arm again to keep you down “ hey. Don’t… you keep doing that. Runnin off “

It was instinct to run.

She didn’t let go of you even when it was clear you weren’t going anywhere, her hand sliding up from your wrist to your bicep and squeezing softly.

“ im sorry- “

“ don’t be. It’s nice “ her voice was quiet now. Soft. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach “ you’re also really not subtle with it. When I arrived. Over dinner. When you gave me my towel. Now” you hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that time. But you had. Examining the green of her eyes again.

“ I’m. Sure I’m not the only one “ you have Joel for that

She shrugged again her hand moving from where it been burning into your arm, up to tuck some of your hair back behind your ear.

“ only one worth looking back at though” her fingers grazed across your jaw, lightly over your lips before coming to rest on your cheek “ stop acting like you have to be tough all the time. Even your uncle seems to have let down his guard if he let in Frank “ You didn’t know what to say to that. How she seemed to have sussed you out incredibly fast, seen through your facade “ so let me in too “

You hadn’t expected her to kiss you. So it took you a moment to process it when she did, closing the small gap in between you and capturing your lips in hers.

But as soon as you accepted what was happening, you pulled away and sat up, your brain screaming at you for how wrong it was. Joel was only downstairs and you were there kissing his girlfriend?

“ no. We. I- can’t- Joel “ you said it a little broken but she got the point, her brow furrowing and her hand on your shoulder.

“ Joel? What’s Joel got to do with- oh “ her eyebrows shot up and she let out a little laugh again. The same kind as the one from earlier, the nose scrunching, eye crinkling kind “ you think? Me and Joel? “ you folded your arms across your chest, a scowl forming on your face as you realised she was laughing at you again.

“ what was I supposed to think? “

“ look. Me and Joel… it’s not like that. At all. I promise you “ she reached out for your hands, turning to face a little more “ don’t give me that look. You look so much like Bill when you scowl it’s off putting “ you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched as you tried to suppress a smile at that. Frank often said the same thing. That you and Bill both had the same pissed off face. The same everything face.

“ you could’ve told me that earlier “

“ what? You think casually slipping into conversation that me and Joel aren’t fucking is just easy? “ you huffed, the scowl still etched into your face “ hey! It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Tess and this is Joel who’s not my boyfriend. Oh chicken you say? Awesome I’m starving! “ she said with sarcasm dripping from her words “ I thought. I thought I was being as obvious as you were. Clearly not “

You thought you’d have noticed. You had been staring at her all day. But you hadn’t. Too consumed with admiring her rather than paying full attention

“ would’ve stopped me ruining our kiss if you’d just said something“ you grumbled and she sighed, sliding a hand back up to cup your cheek again.

“ yeah well that’s the thing about kisses, you don’t just have to do it once. You can redo it. Over. And over “ she pulled you in closer as she spoke, her nose brushing against yours “ and this time, please don’t think about Joel. Knowing you’re kissing me and thinking about him is a real fuckin turnoff“

“ shut up oh my god “ she did just that, pulling you back in again. It was better than the first, of course, it lasted longer than a few seconds for a start. And you didn’t have a voice in your head telling you how wrong it was.

You revelled in it. Letting her pull you closer until you were practically sat in her lap, fists twisting into the material on her shirt too scared to actually… touch her. She wasn’t afraid though . Her fingers were laced into the hair at the nape of your neck, the other hand holding your face to guide you at the pace she wanted.

It was a little clumsy. You weren’t exactly open to opportunities for practice when it came to kissing, well… anyone. But she didn’t seem to mind. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you were afraid you’d go deaf, your skin prickling with goosebumps. So starved of touch for so long that you didn’t even know how to fully react.

But the way she inched her fingers just under the collar of your shirt, told you she was probably as touch starved as you were.

When her tongue brushed against your bottom lip you wasted no time in letting her in. The whimper that escaped your throat was slightly involuntary, and at any other time you thought you might have been embarrassed by it. But you were far too preoccupied with her to care. The fingers splayed across your cheek burning into your skin, guiding you and keeping you grounded. You were running out of air but you couldn’t find a single part of you that even cared.

You didn’t want it to stop. But the world, as it so often did, had other ideas.

“ y/n? Tess? “ you startled as Franks voice sounded from downstairs, his footsteps growing nearer as he climbed the stairs. You practically dived away from her, hurriedly trying to soothe your hair and look somewhat normal. She didn’t look even remotely concerned, falling back against the mattress again with a smug smile stretching across her face “ hello? “

“ in- in here! “ you called, clearing your throat mid sentenced as it cracked with your nerves.

Franks head popped around the door, his usual goofy grin in place.

“ you two doing okay? You’ve been up here a while “ his eyes flashed between Tess and you and his smile took on new light, quirking an eyebrow at you “ honey? You’re all red. Doing okay? “ the little shit

“ I’m fine “ you said with a glare that only made him smile more.

“ well the alpha male energy out there is becoming unbearable. Come save me? “

“ is Joel in one of his moods again? “ Tess finally spoke, getting up and smoothing her hands over her shirt “ I’ll come save you. Let’s go “ she gestured for Frank to lead the way and headed for the door, grabbing your hand as she passed and pulled you along “ you too sweetheart. Looks like you’ve got a new member to the grumpy club “

“ I’m not grumpy “ you muttered under your breath. She simply scoffed and headed back outside, hand still laced with yours.

#tess servopoulos #Tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction #Anna torv #x you #x reader #fluff #Joel miller #Ellie Williams #bill and frank #lgbt

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sunlightmurdock · 3 months

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I’m loving your apocalypse dbf!jake!!! Does he suffer through nightmares/night terrors at all? If so? I bet reader would comfort him and they got a sort of routine or checklist they go through to assure Jake they’re fine and okay and here and alive🥺

Yes he absolutely does. I think it would get to the point that Jake would consider removing himself from beside you when you’re sleeping. Sleeping just outside the door or something — he can’t be that far, but god, he terrifies himself sometimes. The slightest bump in the night can set him off nowadays.

Even on the quietest nights, sometimes the dreams still turn bad. Dreams where he is seconds too late, where he’s just a step too far from you, where the gun jams.

It was frightening at first, waking up to him grabbing at you with his eyes blown wide open and his face drained of colour. It still is, occasionally — on the nights that the dreams were really bad. It can take some time to calm him down, convince him that he’s awake, that you’re both okay.

You get it down to a science almost. Look at me, put your hand right here, count how many heartbeats you feel. Look at your watch, tell me what time it is. Tell me you’re okay.

Jake always feels so guilty afterwards. He hates you seeing the weakness creeping through his subconscious. He can barely speak when he comes back to, but holding you is enough — listening to your voice and the sound of your breathing is enough.

#apocalypse dbf!jake #dbf!jake #dads best friend Jake #Jake Seresin #Jake hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader

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t-tomuras · 5 months

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This weeks event will be: Zombie Apocalypse

You can refer to the first weeks post for the general idea and how to go about participating if need be but it’s generally very simple.

What are you and your blorbos survival plans? Checklists? Must haves? Are you searching for a cure if there’s one to be found? How do you meet, a miraculous rescue? Together from the start? Did you cross paths in an unsavory way and continued to do so despite how devoid of life the world seemed to be in now? Spare no detail! I want to hear it be it moodboard, Spotify playlist, an existing selfship comm, headcanons, ramblings or full fics!! Go nuts!

Just make it out alive

@katsukikitten - a bit of nostalgia katsukikitten

@kingkatsuki - trust bakujo 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒

#selfship: Apocalypse AU #dropping this in the dead of night

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fantasyqueen502 · 1 year

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Mrs. Miller

Summary- (Before the infection/apocalypse) A look into the life of Mrs. Miller. The day the Millers become parents.

Relationship: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rated: PG Fluff, Pregnancy, labor pains Word Count: 809

"Yeah!---" Joel exhales out of breath, four large travel bags in hand. "---Tommy---" struggling with his phone pinned between his ear and shoulder. "---It's happening."

He missed a step, sending all four bags tumbling down the final flight. One bursting open in a confetti of diapers, pacifiers, and bottles following two by two. Dropping to his knees collecting the fallen items. "---This is it---" he says, forcing the bag shut with a huff and a smile present on his face. Lining everything up by the front door.

"Yes, this is the real thing." He assures now holding the phone by hand checking boxes to his mental checklist. "Kay…I'll call you when we get there."

Hearing the jingle of glassware from the fridge, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She returns, closing the fridge door after checking the date on a jar of mayonnaise.

Holding the receiver to his chest. "What are you doing!?" he exclaims.

"Making a sandwich." She answers plainly. "Now out of my way." She swats him to the side waddling to the counter, where other items are.

"It's time. Your water broke, we should be on our way--"

"Only when the contractions are less than five minutes apart." coating a slice of bread with the condiment. "I don't want to get sent home again." She adds topping off the finished sandwich titled the double decker.

"She takes after you." He couldn't help but snicker. "Indecisive." He whispers, placing a peck on her temple.

"I have a knife." She holds the mayo-covered butter knife at him threateningly. He chuckles, clicking his tongue at the adorable sight. Taking the “weapon” cleaning the blade with his tongue.

She gags, looking away just before pinching his bicep, making him yelp.

"Let's be an angel today. 'Kay little monster." giving her belly a comforting rub. Continuing his chat with his brother. "We'll meet you there."

She looks up as his brows furrowed in confusion, unable to listen to the other end of the conversation. "The hospital, idiot!" He snaps, making her giggle.

"Ha, ha, ha." He mocks sarcastically, making her snort at his cockeyed expression, which he often does when his brother does something that he deems stupid. She was surprised his eyes never got stuck the amount of instances it's happened. "Tommy." He informs her, holding the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Tommy." She greets finishing the sandwich, cutting it diagonally just how Joel likes it, and makes a trade, handing him his half as she takes the phone. "He's just anxious. You know how snippy he gets when he's anxious." She teases.

" ‘ey!" He objects with his mouth full.

"Just made him the double decker." She smiles. "Of course. Payment in advance for babysitting, see you there." She smiles. "Bye bye." She ends.

"You made him one?" He says words muffled by bread, lettuce, and bacon.

"Of course." She answers by holding up a brown paper bag. "Only the best for Diana's favorite uncle."

"He's her only uncle." He corrects. "Back to Diana, huh?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "You choose, babe." She pushes a sheet of paper towards him.

Without giving the list of names a glance, "Joel Jr." He answers taking another larger bite without thought.

"C'mon." She huffs. "Our daughter's gonna have twenty-four first names. Pick one."

"Any name?"

"Any name."

"No vetoing?"

She shakes her head in agreement.

"Alright." He swallows his bite. He takes a moment to look over the list before looking up at the mother of his first child. "Sarah."

"Sarah?"

"Thought of it, few weeks ago. After the drive in,"

"Thought you hated that movie."

"Loved to hate. There's a difference." He corrects. "I quite enjoyed Lost World."

"Sarah." She hums. "I don't like it." She makes a face, causing Joel's expression to fall in dismay. "I love it." He snapped up, and his face beaming.

"That's lame." He scolds, pulling her close for a kiss. "You're lame." He combates patheticly.

"I know." She grins proudly, receiving another kiss. She pulls away. "Ow." She whines, holding the countertop while rubbing her belly with the other hand. Squeezing her eyes tight.

"Big one?" Placing his hand to her lower back.

"Yep." She groans, exhaling a long breath. He begins making soothing circles to dull the ache.

"Lean on me." He instructs her to lean her face into his chest, inhaling the scent of Irish spring.

"Mmmm." She sounds as the grip of pain loosened. Then it faded all together.

"Think that's our cue." He chuckles, placing a hand on her bump. "Time to finally meet our baby girl."

"Time to finally meet, Sarah."

Series Chapters order:

Mrs. Miller

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 2

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 3

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 4

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 5

#last of us #hbo max #joel miller #Joel x F!Reader #joel x y/n #Sarah's mother #imagine #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #Sarah #Mrs. Miller

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nicholas-the-paleomancer · 4 months

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I gotta say, YouTubers photoshopping game designers’ faces to look beaten and bloody on a thumbnail belonging to a review proclaiming things like “total failure” or “is this even a game?” is an ad hominem and certified Dick Move. I don’t know what it is about Critical Role projects that attract the worst of culture war B.S. At worst, I can say that it makes a good faith yet inelegant attempt to deal with sensitivity and inclusivity. Compare that with DnD, and I say that it passes well. (Honestly, Old Gods of Appalachia or Bluebeard’s Bride deal with that best - consent checklists and content warnings.)

That out of the way, the game is actually good. Super rules-light, narrative heavy, and with very cool lore. It’s halfway between one-page RPGs like Lasers and Feelings (or a fifteen pager like Skyfarer) and Powered by the Apocalypse systems. If you like the improvised storytelling of RPGs but hate the crunch of most examples of the genre, this is the game for you. Find an experienced GM, though.

The scar and gilded dice mechanics are really neat, and the open-ended worldbuilding is like a blank canvas for a GM to go nuts with. I plan to use this as a gateway drug to drag more people into the hobby. Also, there’s an en-cyphered story in the book that I haven’t taken the time to work out, yet. Someone should get on that.

[ID: Candela Obscura is a decent game, you guys are just mean.]

#horror #candela obscura #critical role #ttrpg #dnd #powered by the apocalypse #pbta #skyfarer #lasers and feelings #ezra ashford #spenser starke

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songoftrillium · 1 year

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Coming Soon

Storyteller's Vault

Dark Fates Collide!

The garou of Sept of the Trillium Glade stand at a crossroads, their fate already written in the stars. The temperate rainforests of the Pacific Northwest serve as a dark and brooding backdrop for their tragic story, one that showcases a specimen of intrigue lurking at the heart of the World of Darkness.

The first Act of Dead Mountain is high-powered chronicle written for Werewolf: the Apocalypse and is meant to be played in any edition of the game. This tragedy is written for 3 to 8 players of Rank 3 Adren, and is intended to have a long game duration of 6-9 months in length.

Set in 1975, this story revolves around the garou of four packs around Dead Mountain, set at an ancient Red Talon caern doomed to abscess to save itself. The players will need to navigate the complex web of long-standing alliances and animosities that exist among the different packs here. They must fight to protect their territory from incursions by their enemies, while also trying to uncover the secrets of their own history and make hard decisions that will have lasting impacts, preserving the things most important to each garou.

Senescence provides an opportunity to take all of your favorite legends, happenings, character experiences and edition history, and freeze it in time. This chronicle is the first of two acts That allow you to create your own mythology in the region that new players in Act 2 will unearth and piece together. Act 1 is the vehicle for giving closure to the characters that never saw an end to their chronicle, that one showdown you never got to play out, or found out what your favorite character's ultimate fate was to be. And in the grim ending of this first Act, all of those things you love the most will now become the legends that reveal themselves to the garou that come long after, bringing closure to the events that are to take place here.

This is a story of tragedy, one that will test the players' resolve and challenge their notions of what it means to be a garou. It is a tale of ancient secrets, hidden truths, and the grim and unforgiving landscape of the World of Darkness. The players will need to rely on their own wits and ingenuity to uncover the mysteries that lie ahead, and they will emerge from the story as better, more skilled storytellers in their own right!

Senescence Includes:

Over 120,000 words written spanning more than 130 pages to help you horrify your players!

Original Artwork by Mx. Morgan, Jordan Mitchell, and Canis Ovis!

House Rules and Garou History designed to address systemic issues, and streamline roleplay and combat!

New Storytelling Tools designed to bring inclusivity to your groups, as well as tell better horror stories!

The region of Gulaka'i over 30 new locations

Three new Garou camps, and three caerns complete with lore!

Over 24 new and multi-faceted NPCs!

9-part Chronicle with Story Seeds to tailor the story to your players!

Full-color Region and Protectorate maps

First Tongue: The ancient proto-language of the garou!

5 New Talismans!

More Hearthbound story seeds!

3 New Pack Patrons!

5 New Rites!

13 New Enemies!

@excelgarou's Build-a-Veteran v1.2!

RPG Consent Checklist: WoD Edition!

Cross-Edition Conversions!

And More!

Join our discord to help make this game!

#dead mountain #world of darkness #werewolf: the apocalypse

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rfswitchart · 1 month

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Eclipse Checklist 2024

Ok, gonna go over some things that might have happened during yesterday's Eclipse just to make sure everyone's ok.

Did you make sure to wear eye protection while looking at the eclipse?

Did you attack the Fire Nation?

Were you absorbed into a Philosopher's Stone so a Homonculus could turn into a God?

Were you transported to an evil castle full of monsters belonging to Vlad Dracula Tepes?

Did you encounter any Elder Gods (this one is important)?

Did your life force and magic essence get drained because you listened to a 400yo Puritan hellbent on wiping out your species?

Did you encounter endless masses of tentacles?

Did the apocalypse happen?

Did anything strange, mystifying, supernatural, or other ill omens befall you?

If you answered yes to any of these, you're probably not ok. Otherwise, you're good.

#eclipse 2024

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babiejeeves · 2 years

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So just to be clear: the entities still exist in this AU, right? If so, do you think Jon and Martin would ever end up interacting with them in some way? Maybe less “terrifying unexplainable childhood trauma” and more “two dorky middle schoolers are CONVINCED ghosts are real and are gonna make it everyone’s problem”

yes, the entities still exist! For sake of y’know. Shit not ending in the apocalypse I would say that in this au, the web has developed their plan to “keep the world the way it is” enough as to where the other entities are no longer as large as a problem as they are in canon. They still function the same and avatars exist, but the web pulls the strings so rituals can never be completed. thankfully most avatars are content this way, wreaking havoc on their own terms without worrying about the world-ending-ritual checklist.

as for whether Jon and Martin encounter them? ..we’ll see…

#childhood friends au #jmart #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanart #the magnus pod #jon sims #jonathan sims #jonmartin #martin blackwood

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maubauu · 3 months

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[Humanity’s Grief: All At Once]

~~Context~~

I drew this following the prompt “transformation.” This is a key point in a narrative that I’m working on where the world ends when this strange glowing being appears. The main character, Huā, is transformed from his human form (as seen above) to the cat form more commonly depicted. Similar occurrences happen to other people, but I'll get into that at some point later. The strange being, fueled by grief and bitterness at the modern world, puts a hold on humanity’s current order and crumbles it to start anew. More will be revealed as I make more art and as I develop this narrative and my following, so stay tuned :D

~~Symbolism~~

This thing is jam-packed with all sorts of symbols, which I'll list.

-Forehead Stuff: The being's forehead is a simple void of purple, which is meant to represent a cynical view of the world, the wish for complete destruction and renewal, and intimidating emptiness. Huā’s third eye represents the mind's eye and imagination, strangeness, and mysticism. In its current eclipsed state, it represents extreme intensity and strangeness.

-Clothing: The Being’s ribbon represents restriction and obligation and the makeup is a reference to Chinese opera. The clothing/neckline is a reference to Hanfu.

-Colors/Values: I wanted everything to be super dreamy, ethereal, and intense. I kept everything super glowy with nothing too saturated other than the yellow to draw more emphasis to that ethereal glow.

-Expression: Huā’s expression is supposed to be the onset/happening of a panic attack. Everything is supposed to be intense and that being was born from an intense moment.

~~ References and Inspiration~~

I was heavily inspired by Everything, Everywhere, All At Once for this. It's my favorite movie and I reference it a lot in both my art and my writing. The sticky note on the right with the circle, the being's forehead marking, and Hua's eye-eclipse situation are all based on the motif of nothingness depicted as a black circle in EEAAO.

I also referenced performance art, specifically the last act of Swan Lake (The Dying Swan) and Chinese/Peking opera. The Dying Swan was referenced in the being's pose, foreshadowing the end of the world. Chinese opera was referenced in the being's makeup and eyelash things. I chose Chinese opera because it is such an intense artform. I think it depicts the emotional intensity of the being's conception properly. Its clothing is more or less just hanfu inspired, nothing too special about it reference-wise.

The shirt Huā is wearing is loosely based on Mitski's song "Last Words of a Shooting Star" because of the comet designs on it. I also reference her love for checklists on a sticky note. Ty Mitski for putting me on to task planning.

I included a lot of my personal trinkets in this as well. My iPad, my old stylus, my plant, my desk, my sketchbook, my lamp, even my blinds. It's all stuff I own.

The posters are also references. The one on the left is a simple Lunar New Year-themed one and the one on the right is a reference to Carol & the End of the World because I loved how it depicted the apocalypse.

The musical inspirations for this (looping songs is part of my process) are:

-The Deal by Mitski

-Opera Fight by Son Lux and Surrija

-Evelyn All At Once by Son Lux

#artists on tumblr #digital aritst #digital art #art #oc artwork #digital arwork #character illustration #digital artist #original character #character art #illustration #transformation #self portrait #portrait #character design #writing #narrative #maubau’s art

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goshen-applecrumbledore · 1 year

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Fic: Pine sweat opening chapter preview 🏕✨️

It's wincest wednesday and I'm tired of not posting fic! working on long projects is exhausting!

Here's the opening scene of a wincest time travel fic I'm working on.

The full fic is a big mysterious case fic about... hunting, camping and hating yourself, pining, sharing a tent and falling in love with your brother. It will be out in a few months I think. This preview is 1.8k words, takes place in season 5. enjoy! tell me what you think!

Chapter 1 - HEAT

Winter, 2009. The radiator in their motel room was broken, but it was worth putting up with for the twenty-dollar discount on the room. Dean took a decadently long shower to warm up, and Sam slept with towels draped over his comforter.

They would only get a few hours’ rest, but it was better than they'd had lately, both of them hounded as they were by angels, and Sam by guilt and regret. The cold was bad enough that Sam looked over at the lumpy shape of Dean in the other bed and considered saying something about sharing body heat, but Dean would never let him live it down. Dean wasn't even in the mood to share a meal with him lately, so he figured sharing a bed would be a stretch. He fell asleep thinking about Michael and Lucifer and how he hadn't heard Dean sing in the car for weeks.

He woke up sweating.

It was disorienting, bright and screaming of wrongness. The bed wasn't a bed anymore. He was somewhere else, hard ground under him and bright, outside-bright, brighter than South Dakota got on any winter morning.

He blinked awake with blurry eyes, pushing up, and looked for the gun under his pillow that was gone because the pillow was gone, the bed was gone, the whole damn room was gone, and it was dirt and rocks under his palm, not sheets.

He was about to shout for Dean when he saw Dean laying on the ground next to him.

"Dean." He shook Dean’s shoulder and looked around, frantic. They were at the edge of a forest: deciduous trees, near midday by the position of the sun. The air was clean but burning hot, and muggy.

He got up on his haunches and watched the bushes for movement. No bindings on Dean's wrists or his own, and no marks that said any had been there. No phones either, no knives or guns, and he didn’t remember waking up. There was nothing between his bed in the frigid motel room and here.

"Dean."

"Radiator kicked in, goddamn," Dean mumbled. "Turn it off."

Sam hissed, "You are on—the—ground."

Dean snuffled into his folded arms and made a confused noise, lifted his head and turned over. Sam's hand pulled him over faster.

Dean woke up all at once. "Shit."

"Thank you."

Sam watched impatiently as Dean went through the same frantic checklist he had, including patting an invisible pillow for his gun.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean said, sitting up.

It was a forest, as lush as it could be for being so dry, and Jesus, the heat. Sweat rolled down Sam's temple just sitting there.

"Here." Sam picked up Dean's hand and examined his wrist, his forearm. "Lemme check for needles."

Dean watched him turn his arm over. "Didn't wake up, not for a second. You?"

"I don't think so. You feel groggy?"

"Nah."

Sam didn't either. He checked Dean's veins, the inside of his arm and the side of his neck, pulse thumping hard under his fingers. No needle marks.

"It could be worse?" he offered. He got to his feet and gave Dean a hand up. "Maybe they left us the car."

Sam wiped the sweat from his face, looked at the sun's position again, and tried and failed to see any kind of landmark through the trees. He picked a direction and went.

Dean asked, “Who’s they, you think?”

Sam thought about being held down by those guys in the bar when he tried to make his clean break from Dean, spitting blood.

“Rogue hunters pissed about the apocalypse, if I had to guess.”

That was only a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t impossible that those guys or other guys like them had escalated it, knocked him and Dean out and abandoned them in the wilderness to starve as some kind of street justice. He hadn’t told Dean about any of it. It felt too pathetic.

Dean just nodded at that. Sam tucked his hair behind his ear and glanced over at Dean walking next to him: sullen, black T-shirt sweating through, hair stuck up on one side from sleep.

Things hadn’t been great between them. Sam didn't know how to fix it besides acting like a kicked dog and trying to pretend he wasn’t. They were better together, sure, but only because they didn't know how to do anything else. Dean still didn't totally trust him and Sam didn't trust himself, they were just too fucked up to even consider going it alone, not with the angels circling the way they were. It was getting better, they were trying, but they were never fully in step. Maybe getting kidnapped would give them something to focus on together.

A child's shout rang out through the trees. Sam twitched, but it wasn't a scream of horror. It was joyous. Dean nodded towards the sound.

"Look alive. Civilization."

Sam followed behind. There was a neat diamond of sweat between Dean's shoulder blades; Sam always sweated worse than him, and he was drenched by comparison. It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of heat, physical around them and thick in his lungs.

Dean parted wispy trees with his forearm and let them spring back, stepping through the spiky underbrush, silent. There was a clearing up ahead and Sam could make out a squat bungalow through the trees, its siding bleached by the sun. A kid yelped again and there were thumps, feet on grass, scuffling. Sam didn't know if it was better or worse that they weren't deeper in the woods—survival would have been a project, a trust exercise.

As they crept up to the edge of the clearing, he could make out the shapes of two kids in a dusty overgrown lot behind an equally overgrown cabin. At first, Sam thought they were fighting, but it quickly became clear that they weren't.

They were boys in their early teens, one appallingly skinny and one normal skinny, one taller than the other, both white, about the same dusty brown hair colour. The short one shoved the tall one and tried to hook his ankle behind his leg to trip him. They grappled to the ground, pulling at shirts, pulling hair, vicious and violent, but with no ill intent, like they were wrestling.

Sam and Dean crouched in the bushes and watched them, vaguely embarrassed. It was a big clearing and the kids hadn't noticed them. Dean leaned in, putting his head right near Sam's.

“They won’t be alone. Wait.”

The kids looked kind of ragged, their sneakers scuffed and old, and it didn’t seem like much of a stretch that whatever family lived in the dilapidated bungalow could have been responsible for this whole thing. Either they were some backwater freaks with a stake in the apocalypse and they were right to hide from them, or these people were perfectly normal, and they could go up and ask for directions. There was no visible street past the house ringed with trees. Sam could see the edge of a car around the front, plus a decrepit old truck and the rusted frame of a station wagon. They waited.

A cackle from one of the boys, then:

"Ow. Ow! Fine, jeez, you win."

They both flopped onto their backs in the grassy dirt and panted up at the sky. The taller one was grinning, the other looked sour.

"Two to one," the grinning one said.

Sam listened for an accent to place them and couldn't hear one—maybe some faint southern twang, but these trees didn't match the region. It was arid. The heat seemed about right for the South, but where did it get so hot in November? How long were they out for to be taken somewhere so much hotter than the blizzard they'd fallen asleep in?

The bigger kid hinged at the waist and sat up. He was wearing a Zeppelin shirt. Dean used to have one like it, it had tour dates on the back, Sam spent his whole childhood looking at it. The kid's face was covered in freckles, enough to be seen from a distance. His hair wasn't blond and also wasn't not blond, and it was cut short, almost military.

Sam's hand shot out and twisted in Dean's sleeve. Suddenly the heat was more than oppressive, it was choking him.

Dean's sweaty hand covered his and tried to pry him off. "Ow, Sam, what—"

"He looks like you," Sam said all in a rush, feeling stupid, feeling fucking insane. "Like, a lot like you. Can you see him?"

Dean's hand was still on Sam's, but it wasn't moving. They both stared.

"I wasn't that small," Dean said eventually, "but—"

"You had that shirt, though, right?"

"Sammy—"

"It says '1971 WORLD TOUR,' I can see it from here. That's the same one. You—"

"Look at the other kid."

The shorter one had sat up. He was younger, all bones, a soft little-kid face. His hair hung in his eyes and his ears stuck out.

"So?"

Dean's fingers slowly closed around his own, still clenched in his sleeve, until it hurt.

"That's you," Dean said.

Sam's heart went nuts.

"I didn't look like that."

"You fucking did. He looks just like you."

"Not even close! But he"—Sam jabbed a finger at the kid in the Zeppelin shirt—"is one-hundred percent you."

"That doesn't look anything like me! The shirt's messing you up, but that is totally you. Look at his nose! He's—"

"Boys!"

A voice barked from the house. Both Sam and Dean, and the kids on the lawn, twitched with reflexive panic.

The screen door creaked open in the shadow of the cabin's porch and a figure came out.

He hit the sun. It was John Winchester, shielding his eyes and squinting into the yard.

Dean's fingers crushed Sam's so hard he swore he felt something crack. He couldn't bring himself to pull them away.

"C'mon," John called to the kids. "You're on your own for dinner, so bring a twenty. I'll pick you up tonight."

Even the gist of him was immediately recognizable across the distance; Sam could have recognized him by the back of one elbow. John was a concept more than a man, and God, he looked young. He was so broad. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt despite the heat. Sam's thousand emotions all crammed into his chest together: grief, relief, joy, love, rage.

The boys scrambled to their feet and brushed dirt off their knees; one from his jeans, the other from skin. They said, nearly in unison: "Yessir."

John went back inside and they jogged across the yard and followed him in. The shorter one tripped the other going up the stairs and got swatted for it. The shorter one. The— Sam stared at the back of his head.

Dean's hand fell away from his once the boys were inside.

They stayed crouching in the bushes for a while longer, staring at the closed screen door and listening to the indistinct voices from within, loud in all the quiet.

Sam craned his neck to look at the car in the front yard again, like he really needed to check. As if he could have ever mistaken that tail light.

(that's it! thank you for reading! I was tired of not sharing anything. stay tuned for the full fic in the next few months I hope)

#I know it's silly to share a preview but I'm climbing the fucking walls here #I don't know whether pine sweat is the working title or actual title but I've gotten attached to it #ronWIPs #creating a tag for all pine sweat stuff for my own use #🏕

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