#exactly one year ago i started my very first fanfic

[tei-to-tei]

December 17 & 18 - Anniversary (Inside & Out)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 & 18 | ...

Technically Chapter Art, Link below cut:

#rottmnt #rise fanart #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #ao3 fanfic #sorry this took me so long #and that this is so much darker than the rest of my december art #been fighting my mean little mental demons #it just be like that sometimes #exactly one year ago i started my very first fanfic #and i just had to push myself to update it no matter what #anyway... sorry dec 19 & dec 20 will be shoved together too and then i'll be back on track ;u; #if you're still reading i love you #ok bye <3 #*hides from social media for the next 24 hours* #teidoodle #tei's dec23

[vacayisland]

Hiii I saw that you were still doing requests so I was wondering if you could do a John Dory x Reader van life fanfic?

I dont have anything particular to ask for just a little story of how it would be like to live with JD in Rhonda and have a simple life after all of the events that happened with Floyd and stuff :)

@!; "Put on Pants!" John Dory / Reader

"Summary"! You love JD, you really do... but at this point, you're about two seconds from slapping his pants in his face if he won't put them on!... and this is exactly how your mornings always start with your husband <3 "Tags"! Fluff and a dumb plot I made with my friend for a goofy story. Also I'm very very sleepy while writing this <3 I was also being silly, I need to have fun writing <3 @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen

@!; You loved John Dory, you really did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have married him all those years ago, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have put up with his weird antics or his little shenanigans, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have left your old life behind to start a new one with him, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now arguing about him and his pants! It was a very odd argument, not even an argument more like a back and forth bicker, about John Dory refusing to wear his pants inside of the house. Not only not his pants, but his shirt as well! Now, granted, you understood where he came from. It’s his house as well, you both lived in Rhonda after all, and he did live here first, but you also lived here! And not to get you wrong, you could stare at the site of your husband, nearly, butt naked for hours on end yet… there comes to a point where the pants need to go on. If no one is coming over, JD is walking around in nothing other than his boxers and goggles. Sure he’ll put on pants and the vest you got him if he has to go out. But as soon as he gets home? Somehow all of that disappears and he’s left in his boxers, which both baffles and amazes you. How he even manages to basically strip that fast, you aren’t even sure. All you know is that you’re slightly fed up with seeing him in boxers for a majority of your day.

“Babe,” You tried explaining to JD without laughing, knowing this was just plain ridiculous. Though, seeing as your husband just walked out of your shared room for the umteenth time in nothing but boxers, you had to bring it up. Again. “You need to put on pants, you can’t just walk out here in boxers! We have a window. Multiple windows! And none of them are tinted.” “Our house.” Was the only grumble you got from your half-asleep husband, who was brushing his teeth all the while trying to make coffee. He wasn’t actually exactly brushing his teeth, as the toothbrush hung from his mouth, likely forgotten as JD began to warm the cafetera on the stop top. It was also hard to keep a straight face when JD was wearing his red heart boxers, “Ay dios mio, John Dory! Put on your damn pants, no one wants to see your nearly naked ass walking around our camper! Por favor.” You pleaded, slips of giggles escaped your lips as you tried to calm your giggles by rubbing your face. But it was truly no use when you glanced back up at your husband. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and the widest smirk on his face. He looked a little goofy, seeing as his toothbrush was still hanging out of his mouth, but you could tell what his next words were. It was going to be a quip, a flirtatious one of that. It was one he usually used to end this pants conversation, knowing it got you flustered or flabbergasted or just plain over him enough to stop your pursuit. You loved JD so much, but whenever he says: “Aw come on babe, you know you love the sight,” You wanted to strangle him! “I would love the sight even more if my husband would put on his damn pants!” You shot back, not being able to contain your laughter as JD began to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at you. With a shake of your head, you covered your face in your hands and sunk down on the couch melodramatically. God this man is going to be the death of you and he knew it.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#john dory x reader #john dory headcanons #brozone x reader #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls dreamworks #trolls #trolls fandom #brozone #john dory trolls #john dory

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

#one year anniversary #celebration

[austinstyles]

Could’ve been

Austin x reader

Summary: Austin looks back at what life was like with the reader after she had passed away. Also they were married with a baby boy. Will mostly be form Austin pov and have flash backs form the readers pov. Also they have been in each other’s life since they were both 19 years old. ( he was not with Kaia in this fanfic.) Also this fanfic is set in the present day.

Warning: kiss, dead. Spelling mistakes. And this can get a little sad for some readers. Let me know if I missed anything.

Austin pov

I was laying down in my bed with tears running down my cheeks. Missing my lovey wife of three years y/n. Our baby boy was in his bedroom sleeping. Just two months ago I became a single dad, and I lost the love of my life. Grieving has been hard, she has been here for me since 19 years old. Now I just have me and my other family members that have been supportive during this. But it’s hard to be alone without her. Because before I could call her and text her, now I just can’t talk to her.

We started to date some time after my break up with Vanessa. And the then we got married and had our little baby Christian. Our child is a three year old, and now the family we had of three is a family of two people. My wife passed away two months after Trevor birthday this year.

As I am looking at pictures of me and y/n together I feel my mind started to think back to the day I proposed to y/n.

Flashback

Austin pov

Me and y/n have been together for two years and I know she is the one for me. I can’t see myself not spending the rest of my life with her. Will grow old together and see our children grow up and our future grandchildren grow up. Today I am asking y/n to marry me. I’m hoping she will say yes.

Y/n pov

Today me and my amazing boyfriend of two years are having a nice date night. I can’t wait. I love Austin so much and would be the luckiest person in the whole entire world if we were to be together for as long as possible.

At the time Austin proposed.

Austin pov

When we get to the park where the proposal is going to happen I feel my heart beating so fast. I’m ready to Ask her this important question, and I have been ready since I knew she was the one to make her my wife.

I Get down on one knee in front of the my amazing girlfriend standing.

‘Y/n I have known you were the one for me since I first laid my eyes on you. I have fallen in love with you more and more over time. Your mental for me is what I truly believe with every bone in my entire body. Would you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife?’

Y/n pov

I can’t believe what is happening. My boyfriend is proposing to me, my heart is beating out of my chest with excitement. I feel happy tears running down my cheeks. I know exactly what I want to say and just can’t hold it in anymore.

‘ Yes Austin I will marry you’

Me and Austin then share a magical kiss as an engaged couple. And everything feels like we have all the time in the world together.

End of flashback

Back to the present.

Austin pov

Tears are running down my eyes, I remember the happiness of that day and all the happiness we had together. But I started to remember the sadness of losing her. And how it felt so fast, everything was going good then she gets sick. Next moment she is gone.

I feel myself start to drift back to the exact moment we found out y/n is sick, exactly one year ago.

Flashback to one year ago

Austin pov

Me and y/n are in the doctors office, our son is at my sisters at this moment. We’re getting some results form test y/n have been getting since she is sick. For the past two weeks when she coughs there is blood coming out of her throat. I knew this is very serious, and my mind goes to that she could die.

We get the results and she has stage four lung cancer. And was given just months to live. And was lucky if she can live a year. Y/n and me leave the doctors office and are now sitting in the car. My wife is crying so much and I feel my heart breaking. This isn’t how we thought was going to happen so early in her life. But I have to just try and enjoy the moments I have with her left is what I know. Telling our families will be hard, and knowing your baby boy will loose his mom so young just breaks my heart.

End of flashback.

Back to the present

Austin pov

I feel so lost without her. How do I keep going knowing I won’t see her again for a very long time. But also I am very aware I have to keep going, but this is hard. My heart feels like it’s being ripped apart the moment she was dead in our bedroom. Still to this day it’s hard to sleep in my bedroom with the memory of her death. So I have been sleeping in our guest bedroom for the past two months. I know it has also been hard for my baby boy with grief over losing his mother. I know what that is like, but when I this happened to me I was a 23 year old. Let’s just say that it’s been ups and downs since loosing y/n.

My grieving has been really tough, but I need to grieve. I can’t keep living like I will wake up and she is next to me. But I believe we will see each other again some day. It’s just hard to believe she’s not here. This two months have Ben hard, I did join a support group for widows that are single parents. It’s been good to share with others so that does help.

Y/n would want me and Christian to keep on going, also for our little boy to know his mother loves him and didn’t want to leave him. But now she is his guardian angel and will always protect her child. When she was diagnosed with cancer we told your son she was very sick and had short amount of time. In the future I will definitely explain cancer to him. But we chose not to. That when differently when telling the family, it was hardest for her family defiantly. I even remember the funeral, it was a time to remember all of her life. And we’re thankful for the time we had. Just wish we all had more time with y/n.

I decided it was time to go to bed seeing it was 11:00 pm. And tomorrow I had a busy day, in my sleep I was dreaming of y/n. It all felt so real and I wanted to stay in this dream forever. In this dream we’re the small family of three again, Christian is playing with his mother and I join in the fun there having. It was amazing and so realistic. But my mind knows this isn’t real, I want this to be reality more then anything else in the hole universe.

I have to keep going I know, I tell myself this is what y/n wants me and Little toddler Christian to do. But I will always keep her in my heart. For the rest of my life.

Thanks for reading. Sorry it was a little sad. I appreciate every feedback I get. Also please like and reblog this I appreciate it. And also please request what you want me to write. I hope everyone has a great day take care.

😊👍🏻🩷🌸🖤😃

Grace

#austinstyles #fanfic #fanfiction #austinstyles writing #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #request are open #austin butler #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n

[kittyball23]

Hi is it okay if you write a story about baby branch and Floyd

It sure is 😊

Remember (a Trolls fanfic)

Dear Diary,

It’s been a pretty quiet evening at home so far, and I guess there’s a few reasons for that. For one, I guess it’s no secret that I’m the quietest among my brothers (they say I should assert myself more, but I find that I can’t - it’s just the way I am 0.0). Also, my older brothers aren’t here at the moment, and the bro that IS here is sleeping on my lap (it’s a little hard to write right now, but I can manage). I’m guessing you’re probably wondering where exactly my older brothers are. Well, John Dory is out running some errands with Grandma, so they’re hitting the grocery store and a few other places (plus, JD DID say he was going to try and get supplies for some new costume ideas he has planned for us and our band, BroZone).

Spruce is out on a date. He ran another one of his competitions, and the winner this time around is a girl named Doreen. I’ve seen her around town a bit, and she seemed very excited to be able to be with him. As for Spruce… I don’t think I could really say the same :( But, regardless, they were heading out to Senior Frosty’s. A lot of us like to go down there for some sweet treats (personally, I think Grandma’s stuff is the best, but they’re okay too ^_^). Spruce’s favorite is the Tropical Sunset sundae, which is an ice cream that I think is made from vanilla, with some kind of fruity syrup and chunks of pineapple on top. It sounds pretty tasty, but my personal preference is the strawberry delight (an underrated flavor, but delicious nonetheless!)

Clay headed off to another one of his sad-book club meetings. He’s sorta told me about them before, but I’m a little nervous to go to one, if I’m being honest. If it’s about sad books like he says, I’m probably gonna be in tears the whole time! I guess I’ll just have to make sure that I pack a lot of tissues when I do get the chance to accompany him :)

That leaves me and Branch, like I mentioned before. We had some fun with all kinds of activities around the house.

We frosted some sugar cookies that Grandma had baked earlier in the day (Branch got a little messy with the decorating, but he didn’t mind). We played some games (the usual - hide-and-seek, tag… freeze tag) and sang some of our band’s songs together. I’m very proud of him. Even though he’s only a couple years old, he’s got a great falsetto going. Golden! I can tell he’s going to be an amazing singer one day, and I can’t wait for him to start performing with us. John Dory thinks he’s ready, too. A few days ago, he actually suggested that we should start arranging for our first tour. Spruce and Clay agreed, and it’s going to be so exciting!

As Floyd tapped his pencil to his chin, pondering what to write down next, the light weight on his lap began to shift. He immediately put his journal down, and watched admiringly as Branch cutely yawned and stretched.

“Hey, Branch,” he cooed softly, stroking his brother’s delicate little cheek. “Did you have a good nap?”

The baby blinked up at him, rubbing the sleep out of his large blue eyes and grinning his sweet little one-toothed grin. “Uh-huh!”

Floyd chuckled and ruffled his rich blue hair. “That’s good.”

“What did you do, Floyd?” the small Troll asked curiously.

“Oh, I was just writing in my journal,” he said, showing him the book that he’d placed at his side.

“Ohhh,” Branch mused, cocking his head. “Can I see it?”

“Sure thing,” Floyd replied fondly, opening it up and allowing Branch to flip through the pages.

“I write all kinds of things in here,” the magenta-haired Troll explained while the baby stared in wonder. “Ideas, stories, wishes… but do you know what my favorite thing to write about is?”

“What?” Branch asked, his eyes twinkling with interest.

“All the stuff I do with you, and our brothers.”

“Wow! Really?”

“Definitely,” Floyd answered. “That way, when we want to remember something special, it’ll all be right here.” He gave him a little side hug that Branch happily leaned into with a giggle. Then, the little blue Trolling thought of something else.

“Do you write songs in there, too?”

Floyd nodded. “Yeah, I do.” Then he smirked. “But you know, I’ve been having a little trouble trying to finish the one I’ve been working on. Do you want to help me?”

His baby brother’s face lit up. “Yeah!”

And, as he and Branch made another cherished memory - harmonizing together and creating wonderful new melodies - Floyd made sure to recall every little detail of their experience so, in that way, he could notate it in his journal for them to always remember.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #branch trolls #floyd trolls #dreamworks #my sons 🥺 #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask! #kittyball answers

[hikarry]

Some people asked me for a fanfic and, welp, your orders are my command. This is just a "quick" thing, not even sure it can be considered a fanfic, but what is done is done.

It's technically my first time writing a one-shot (or any type of proper fanfic, really) for Good Omens, so be nice. I'm sensitive and have a fragile heart.

Alas, welcome to the angst zone.

Crowley has heard Aziraphale's True Voice once and only once. Many many centuries ago. It was loud and spiky like nails in a chalkboard. A terrified and desperate yell that pierced through him like a sword. Ran through his bones like a sudden wave that punched the air out of his lungs. Never in all those centuries had he heard anything more disturbing than it.

He had been in Peterfield for a few weeks now, in the middle of a long job, tempting a priest into the pleasures of gluttony and the flesh. Both of them were in a tavern, debating religion in between glasses of wine when Crowley's head snapped up and he fell quiet, just like a dog when they heard a suspicious noise.

"Mr. Crowley?" Father Brown stopped sipping his glass and looked at his companion. "You've become pale all of a sudden, son. Are you feeling quite alright?"

The yell lasted less than a couple of seconds, but it was echoing inside his head. His body moved without his permission, and before he knew, he was on his feet, glass of wine half full tumbling on the table. His hands shaking beside him and his heart racing inside his chest.

Crowley had never heard anything like it, but he knew it was Aziraphale. He just knew.

"Mr. Crowley?" The priest tried again, this time also getting up, and just then the demon registered his presence again.

"Apologies, Father. I have somewhere else I need to be and I'm afraid It's getting late." Crowley pulled a couple of coins from his pocket and threw them on the table. "This one's on me. Shall we meet when I'm once again free?"

"Of course. You always know where to find me."

He nodded and tried to leave the tavern as fast as he could without running, slithering through tables and patrons until he reached the door. He hadn't brought a horse. Satan knows he despises those animals. Not very gentle on the behind, they are. But right now, he was in need of one, desperately so.

Last he heard, Aziraphale had been in Sussex meddling around with some noble family, so that's exactly where he was going to go. Father Brown could wait. It's not like Beelzebub gave him an expiring date. Even if they had, bless all of this. He could handle a week or two in a pit for failing the mission. His priority right now was the angel.

Crowley stole the first horse he saw and galloped in the general direction of Sussex. It would be a long ride, no under three hours, but he would do everything to get there - wherever "there" was exactly - as soon as he could. If he hears Aziraphale's True Voice once again in that state of agony, he might as well lose his mind.

To prove God was really against him, it started raining heavily halfway through the journey. Crowley brushed his hair back, away from his forehead, with one hand while the other held the reins. With all this, he hadn't brought his cape, and now both him and the horse were soaked to the bone and quite exhausted. If it wasn't for a few miracles, he was quite sure the horse would have stopped to rest a while ago.

He snapped, and an invisible shield covered them, keeping the freezing rain away. The road was turning into mud, which would slow them down considerably, but he had to keep going. There was no way in Heaven he would stop until he reached Sussex.

Through forests and small villages, they were like an arrow. Supernaturally fast and focused. His hands had somewhat stopped shaking, but his heart was still hammering, replaying the noise over and over again in his head. He had saved the angel before. For some reason, he was prone to get himself in a spot of trouble every 200 years or so, but the danger had never been enough to force his True Voice out. True Voices were only used in cases of extreme urgency. For humans, it sounded like a screech, but angels and demons could understand them. Something said in your True Voice was like a command, and yet Aziraphale hadn't said anything, he just yelled. Whatever it was that was happening could only be bad. Very bad.

When he finally crossed the line into Sussex, he pulled the reins to stop the horse. Looking around the forest, he pooled his senses to try and find Aziraphale's essence. The last thing he needed was Aziraphale not to be in Sussex anymore and for this trip to have been useless, but no. Right at the edge of his vision, there was the brightness he has been mingling with for millenia. Crowley pulled on the horse again and followed the angel's essence into the other side of the city, deep into the forest.

Both of them came to a stop at the mouth of what appeared to be a small cave. It was covered with some greenery, but nothing that could stop him.

Crowley dismounted and tapped the horse on the side of his neck for the good job, partly unconciously. With a hand, he pushed the greenery to the side and stepped carefully into the cave, the useless invisible shield breaking over him. He stopped for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness and kept silent, trying to hear something. Anything. He was sure Aziraphale was here. His essence was very close, and he could feel his distress rolling out of him in waves. Crowley took some steps forward, as silently as possible, until he started hearing what sounded like multiple voices. He stopped, laying his hand against the wall of the cave, and tried to discern whatever they were saying, but the cave was making it difficult. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached with his senses once again. Indeed, there was the angel, and with him 8 demonic presences. Low ranking demons.

He took a deep breath, punching the wall. Whatever they had been doing to the angel to cause him to lash out with his True Voice, he was going to kill them.

No. Okay. If they were humans, yes, he wouldn't shy away from a little murder, but demons is a more tricky situation. If he attacked them, it would be suspicious. He had to figure out a way to send them packing without giving his hand away.

Another deep breath, and he kept moving, this time trying to make his steps echo on purpose. As he got closer, the voices got louder.

"Try again."

"It's useless! He's out of it, they won't come out!"

There was some light at the end of a tunnel to the left, and he followed it, the voices suddenly going quiet.

The scene he saw as soon as he turned the corner iced his blood and boiled his anger at the same time.

Aziraphale was pinned to the wall by some silver chains, his feet a few centimeters off the ground. His head was hanging down, and his shirt was shredded, soaked in red blood, just like his trousers and his blond hair. His corporation wasn't breathing. He was probably very close to discorporating and Crowley was running out of time.

"Here you are!"

The 8 demons turned towards him, their eyes widening somewhat comically.

"Crowley?" The smaller one muttered, taking a step back from the angel.

Crowley took a few more steps inside, approaching the group while pretending to look around, his hands behind his back.

"I heard some demons had invaded my territory." He looked up at Aziraphale, willing his heart to control itself. "And I've seen you've captured an angel."

"Yes. We've been tracking him for weeks." A woman shaped demon said, quite proud of herself, pointing at the angel. "Took us a while, but we managed to poison him so he would fall unconcious and brought him to the circle." Just then Crowley's eyes fell to the floor where, indeed, there was a circle drawn. He took a step closer, to inspect it. A circle to drain energy. With Aziraphale's sigil. They were really trying to kill him.

Crowley swallowed and closed his hands into fists. He had to control himself and get Aziraphale out of that circle soon. He had been there for over 3 hours, at the very least, and Crowley didn't know how much more energy he would have left to keep himself alive. This wasn't about discorporation anymore.

"You sound very proud of yourself." He finally looked at the demons, stopping between them and Aziraphale. "But I ask you: who ordered you to do this?"

"He's just a principality. It's not like there aren't plenty in Heaven to replace him. No one would miss him up there and, besides-"

The demon took a sudden step forward, taking the sunglasses away from his face and pinning all of them down with his yellow gaze, no white whatsoever to be seen there, pupils barely but a black thin line.

"I'm here, am I not?" When the demons didn't answer, he leaned forward, fangs growing on his mouth. The group took a step back. "This is my jurisdiction, and you have no permisssssion to be here." Another step forward, another step back from the group. "If someone is going to kill an angel, it's going to be me and not some lowly bottom of the barrel demons like you."

"But that's not fair! We had-" Crowley hissed and brought his hands to the side of his body, all his fingers morphed into claws, urging the demon talking to jump back.

"You're very mistaken if you think Hell issss fair." He looks at every single one of them. "Do you even have permisssssion to be upsssside?" The demons looked amongst themselves, but no one answered. "That'ssss what i thought." He took a final step forward, coming face to face with the closest of them. "Get the fuck out of here before I inform Beelzebub you uselesssss piecessss of flessssh have been sssscrewing around in my territory without permisssssion." Everyone stared at him, but no one moved. "NOW!" He yelled and the group trembled before being swallowed by the earth and disappearing.

Not losing time, Crowley walked the few steps that separated him from the angel and broke the circle with his boot, reaching up to the chains to free him, carefully using his own body to support Aziraphale when his limp corporation toppled forward.

With a snap of his fingers, he miracled a blanket and carefully lied Aziraphale on it, kneeling by his side to assess the situation. His wounds needed to be tended to but most of it was normal red blood. His nose and his mouth were the only ones running ichor, which wasn't a great sign. Crowley Looked at Aziraphale and was met with a less bright than usual light, but bright nonetheless. With a sigh, he let himself relax. Aziraphale was going to be fine. He just needed to rest while Crowley fed him some of his energy and get his corporeal wounds tended to. He would be fine. He wasn't too late.

Aziraphale was going to be fine.

But now here they were, centuries later, in the same position: Aziraphale laying unconcious on the floor of some basement in the middle of nowhere in Scotland and Crowley kneeling next to him, hovering his still figure with his hands on the angel's face.

Aziraphale had disappeared for a week and a half while he had gone back to London to check on the bookshop and Muriel and bring some more books to the cottage.

Crowley had searched for him everywhere as soon as he didn't come back home at dinner time, and after he went to check the bookshop where Muriel told him Aziraphale had never showed up.

He had used his senses to try and find him, but he could barely feel him. Something was masking his location, and this was driving him up the walls. After 2 years of pure peace and quiet, chaos had to follow them again? Was it Heaven again? Was it Hell? He didn't know, but he would tear them apart if any of them had anything to do with this.

Crowley had no other choice but to reach out to Anathema for help. With a map, a few herbs, one of Aziraphale's bowties, and a liquid that honestly smelled like a cadaver, she managed to pinpoint his location to a small town near the frontier with Scotland.

He didn't lose any time.

In the Bentley with Anathema and Adam (because both insisted on coming and he had no time to convince them it was a stupid and useless idea), he sped from Tadfield to that middle of nowhere as fast as demonically possible without discorporating himself and killing the humans. It took him roughly 5 hours and a lot of law breaking, but they eventually arrived and found a house in the middle of a village with a very weird and heavy aura, or so Anathema said.

After a couple of hours of observing, Crowley lost his patience and invaded the house, consequences be damned. If Anathema turned out to be mistaken, he would wipe the humans' memories out, but, by luck, she wasn't.

The house was the headquarters of some slimy cultists with a bit too much knowledge about supernatural forces and ambition. As soon as he stepped through the main door, he smelled the ichor, and his vision went red. He ran, following the smell and shoving anyone who tried to stop him out of his way.

He kicked the door of the basement open and that's where he found Aziraphale unconcious, laying on the ground in the middle of a summoning circle with two men around him.

Crowley hissed, and his wings appeared out of the eather. With a snap, both men were tossed against the wall with such brute force both fell unconcious.

"Angel!"

Just like all those centuries ago, Crowley almost ran to the angel and broke the circle with his boot, tossing himself onto the floor next to him. This time, there wasn't red blood anywhere, and his clothes were almost as pristine as always, but there was ichor running down his mouth, his nose, and his ears. Confused, Crowley looked around at the circle, and his eyes fell in a couple of markings that should not be in a normal summoning circle. They had turned it into a draining circle at some point.

Back in the 6th century, Aziraphale had only been inside the circle for around 3 hours, and he recuperated in less than a week. His corporations' wounds had been the biggest problem, really. Crowley had to play nurse to keep him from discorporating. But a week and a half? Satan knows what that would do to an angel's essence.

Before he could check, he heard steps coming down the stairs, and soon enough, four other humans showed up at the door. Crowley positioned himself on top of Aziraphale, knees and hands on each side of his body, allowing his fangs to grow on his mouth as he hissed and used his wings to cover the angel the best he could.

"A demon?" One of them said, giving a step back.

Before any of them could say anything else, Crowley watched as Adam and Anathema appeared at the door, the kid punching one of the man in the face and the Witch using a frying pan to knock another of them unconcious. With a wave of Crowley's hand, the last two remaining were tossed against the window and fell unconcious as well.

"Are you okay?" Anathema asked, stepping closer, and Crowley hissed, out of instinct.

Adam joined her, kneeling a few feet away from the demon.

"Aziraphale?"

Crowley looked down at the still unconscious angel, and his wings disappeared. Carefully, he kneeled on the other side of Aziraphale and finally Looked at him. Part of him wished that he hadn't because what he saw wasn't pretty. Aziraphale was barely a flicker of light, and he was flickering like anything. Crowley gasped involuntarily, and now here they were: the demon leaning over the angel, holding his face between his hands.

"What's wrong? Did they hit him?" Adam asked.

"No..." Anathema carefully leaned beside him. "They turned the summoning circle into a drain. They were draining Aziraphale's energy and essence and probably planning on using it to power up spells or rituals or something."

"Is that bad?"

They kept talking, but Crowley was not listening anymore. His heart was ringing on his ears and his whole body was shaking. It was very hard to breath at the moment. This bloody basement didn't have air enough.

"Angel?" Now, with his fangs also gone, he reached out with his demonic essence, but nothing reached back. Closing his eyes, he tried to poor some of his energy into the angel like he had done all those years ago, but the essence kept flickering, maybe even more than before. "No, no, no, no. Aziraphale, you bastard, don't do this to me." He opened his eyes again and shook him. "Wake up." Nothing. "Wake up!"

"Crowley-" Anathema tried to lay her hand on his shoulder, but he slithered away from her touch.

"Come on, Aziraphale. I didn't come all the way here for you to keep flickering!" He stopped shaking him for a moment, Looking once again. The light appeared to be slowly dimming. "Angel, it's okay. I found you. Just wake up so we can go home!" He kept pouring energy into him, both hands now grabbing handfuls of Aziraphale's waistcoat. "Aziraphale!"

"Is there something you can do?" Anathema looked at Adam, and Crowley's attention fell momentarily on him as well.

Adam shook his head.

"I don't have any more powers. And even if I did, I don't know if I could actually do something about an angel's essence."

Crowley held Aziraphale's clothes more tightly and looked back at him. He didn't know what to do. Giving him energy worked last time, but now it was doing close to nothing. Aziraphale couldn't be too far gone. He refused to believe that. They couldn't have stopped the Apocalypse and the bloody Second Coming for it to end like this. Because of some stupid humans.

Slowly, a few more drops of ichor fell from his lips, and his chest stopped rising.

Crowley held his breath as he felt moisture take over his eyes. This isn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't going to lose him like this.

"Aziraphale, open your eyes! Open your fucking eyes!" His True Voice slipped through and both Anathema and Adam got up with their hands on their ears, taking a few steps back. "I'm not going to lose you like this!" He pulled on his clothes, slightly lifting Aziraphale off the ground. "Wake up, Aziraphale!" He could feel the tears escaping from his eyes and running down his face, even under the glasses, but at the moment he didn't care. "Wake up right now!"

Suddenly, Aziraphale's eyes sprung open and the angel took a deep breath, coughing up some ichor in the process. Crowley quickly but carefully let his back lay on the ground again and leaned over him, both his hands on each side of his face. Adam and Anathema didn't move from where they were, watching from afar.

Aziraphale tried to talk but choked on ichor, and Crowley ran his thumb down his cheek, wiping some of the ichor from the corner of his mouth. It burned, but he didn't care.

"Don't speak, angel. It's okay." He leaned his forehead on the angel's and felt him pushing up to try and meet him halfway. "I found you. You're okay."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Crowley looked up to the two humans that he forgot were still present for a moment.

They needed to leave this place and go back to the South Downs, but he was afraid if he let go of Aziraphale and stopped feeding him energy, he would lose him again. For that, he needed one of them to drive the Bentley so he could go on the back with Aziraphale, but...Crowley didn't like the idea of anyone else besides himself or the angel driving his car.

He looked back down at Aziraphale, his eyes now half lided, but clearly still trying to keep himself awake.

Crowley pulled the keys to the Bentley from the pocket of his trousers and tossed them to Anathena, who barely caught them.

"I need you to drive us back home. I'm going on the back with Aziraphale to try and keep him stable through the trip."

"Are you sure that's wise? Isn't there anything else we can do to make him somewhat bett-"

"If there was, I would be doing it right now, Book Girl!" He snapped, when he felt Aziraphale's hand on his forearm, squeezing it. He looked back at him before looking up at the woman once again. "Last time resting and sharing my energy with him solved it. I don't know what else could help."

"Maybe one of your books has a spell to speed up the process?" Adam asked.

"We will only know if we check." She swinged the keys on her finger. "Alright, let's go back to England then."

And so they did. The journey was somewhat uneventful. By now, it was the middle of the night, and Adam ended up falling asleep on the passenger seat. Aziraphale, laying in the back seat with his head on Crowley's lap, fought sleep as best he could, keeping his eyes open mostly for Crowley's sanity than anything else. He managed to talk somewhat at some point during the trip, saying Crowley's name, but the same told him, once again, not to talk while running his fingers through the angel's hair.

"You will be okay, angel. I promise."

And he did, almost 2 months later and after a lot of resting, energy sharing, and a couple of spells, courtesy of one Anathema Device. At the end of the day, it was quite the scare, but Aziraphale was once again strong and full of light, and Crowley intended to keep him that way.

#good omens fanfic #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #anthony j crowley #crowley good omens #aziraphale good omens #adam young #anathema device

[butterfliesandwintering]

Blind Items - Prologue

Cillian Murphy x Y/N

Author's note: This is my first ever fanfic. I had this idea of baseing this story on blind items (that are obviously fake). I think I want to make this into a small series. In this part nothing really happens yet so I guess this is like a prologue. And this is in no way the real Cillian Murphy, it is NOT based on real things! Please give me feedback and comments!

Summary: Y/N is an artist performing at Chritopher Nolan's new movie premier party. There are many famous actors there, Y/N has only one person she wants to meet, Cillian Murphy, the lead actor of the movie.

Word count: 1408

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Blind Item #1

This A- artist who performed at the exclusive movie premier party could have gone home with anyone, but apparently she chose to take home the much older, leading actor of the new movie. 

Allegedly: Y/N, Cillian Murphy

Blind Item #2 

This actor of our time was flirting hard with the performer of the night at the Christopher Nolan’s new movie’s exclusive party. But allegedly, he didn’t get to take the artist home though. 

Allegedly: Timothee Chalamet, Y/N

Blind Item #3

This actress who’d been seen in many A list films lately was very upset since the guy who she had been allegedly been hooking up with, was flirting hard core with another woman right in front of her. 

Allegedly: Florence Pugh, Timothee Chalamet, Y/N

It was the first time Y/N was performing at a private event. But this was the party of the year, so she couldn’t say no. In all honestly the biggest reason she said yes to playing the show, was because of all the people who were going to be there. Timothee Chalamet, Florence Pugh, Christopher Nolan, Emily Blunt, Cillian Murphy and so many more A list actors and celebrities. 

Y/N*s second album had just come only a week ago. This would be the second concert she would play promoting the album. Even though she didn’t really think is was an opportunity to promote the album, more like an opportunity to mingle and meet new powerful people. 

The party took place at an open air venue that looked kinda like a garden. The LA’s humid and warm weather made it a perfect place for the party. The whole place was decorated in fairy lights and was made to look very tasteful and pretty. There was a bigger stage outside and a smaller stage inside. There was a huge bar at the back and one inside as well. 

Y/N got to the venue for the soundcheck in the early evening. 

“Oh it’s so beautiful” she said to her manager as they were walking to the big stage. “And it’s gonna be full of celebrities and amazing actors and…” Diana, Y/N’ manager rambled on.“Yeah yeah I get it” Y/N said teasingly.

There were people already running around setting up the bar, the lights and some small tables around the place but there were no guests yet. It was only 6 pm and the party would start at 8 pm. 

“I’m gonna do the soundcheck now and then we’ll do hair and make up right?” Y/N asked her manager. “Yeah exactly” Diana answered.

—————

The soundcheck was great. The band sounded great, Y/N sounded great and the place was beautiful. It was 8:30 pm now and the place was already full. Y/N is scheduled to perform at 9 pm. 

Behind the stage Y/N lit up a cigarette and took a peak at the crowd. “Oh my god, Timothee Chalamet is right in front of the stage” Y/N said to her guitar player. “He is so hot!” “Is that who you’re most looking forward to meeting?” John, her guitarist asked with a grin. “Honestly, no. I am really looking forward to meeting him as well, I mean he is an amazing actor and he’s really good looking but no.” Y/N confessed. “So who are you looking most forward to meeting?” John asked. “Cillian Murphy, honestly”  said. “Oh really, I mean I understand he is the lead of this new movie” John said looking a bit surprised. “Yeah, and also he is GORGEOUS.” Y/N confessed with a small laugh.

After a but it was time to take the stage. The set was about 30 minutes long, which was a but shorter that what Y/N was used to doing, but since it was a private event, it was a bit different. Y/N’s outfit, hair and make up was on point, she looked so good, she knew it and everyone in the venue knew it. Timothee was indeed in the front row with Florence Pugh and many other famous actors from the movie. Y/N took this opportunity to flirt with him a bit during her songs. The person she was on stage was a bit of an alter ego, since she could never be so up front and confident off stage. 

The show felt so good. Y/N felt amazing on stage. To her surprise the whole crowd was singing along to almost every song. She didn’t expect that from this kind of an event. Sure at her own shows people always sang along, but this was Hollywood’s elite. A very different crowd. During some of her flirtiest songs, she made a lot of eye contact with Timothee since he was right in front of her and clearly he was enjoying every single bit of it. It was all for fun, and a little bit part of Y/N’s stage persona. 

In the back of her head was someone else though. Cillian Murphy. She knew he was married, but she had heard a rumour that his and his wife’s relationship was over or that they were separated. If this was true, she would definitely try and make a move on him tonight. And in all honesty, even if it wasn’t true, she could still at least meet him and have a conversation. 

She spotted him during the second last song of the set. He was stood near the bar, at the back of the venue. He was looking right at her, and the butterflies went crazy in her stomach. Just seeing him look at her was enough. 

———————

The show was over. Y/N was having a cigarette behind the stage with her band celebrating how well the high profile concert just went. “Oh my God, we sounded so good!” Her drummer screamed. “Absolutely, that was amazing” Y/N agreed. “Guys that was unbelievable. When you finish here you might wanna go out there and mingle, everyone is talking about you guys, especially you Y/N.” Her manager said with a huge smile on her face.

The part was in full mode when she stepped into the crowd. Everyone had a drink in their hand and it was certain that it wasn’t anyone’s first. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and a bit tipsy already. Y/N walked over to the bar at the back. She did have drinks at backstage but she wanted to meet people and this was a good way of doing it. 

“One gin and tonic, with Hendrick’s if you have some, please” Y/N ordered from the bartender. She felt a hand on her shoulder and was a bit startled at first. “Hi! The show was amazing! I really enjoyed it!” It was Timothee Chalamet. “Oh hi! I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I saw you were right there in the front row, I really appreciate that!” Y/N said. “Of course, honestly I’ve been a fan of your music for a while now” Timothee confessed. “I had no idea, I don’t think I’ve seen you at any of my concerts” “Yeah this was the first time, but I don’t think I could’ve gotten that kind of special treatment at any of your other shows” Timothee said with a wink. “Hahahaha, yeah that was fun” 

Y/N said looking down and blushing a bit. She noticed Christopher Nolan and his wife waiving in her direction from across the room. “I’m sorry, it was amazing meeting you Timothee, can we continue this later?” Y/N asked feeling a bit embarrassed leaving the conversation so soon. “Yeah of course!” He said politely. 

“Y/N what a show!” Christopher said giving her a hug. “Oh thank you so much! Thanks for having me!” She said as she hugged Christopher’s wife next. Then she noticed another guy standing next to them looking at her. It was Cillian. “Hi, I’m Cillian, your show was amazing, I agree” he said extending his hand out to you. Y/N shook his hand and thanked him. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you” “The pleasure’s all mine” Cillian said with a smile. His eyes were so blue. 

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfic #imagine #blurb

[devnmon]

save who you can save // t.s.

A prequel to Long Long Time, detailing the first time the two met.

pairing: smuggler!reader x tess servopolous slowburn

Summary: One of your smuggling deals goes wrong– almost deathly wrong. A stranger decides you're worth saving.

word count: 12k

warnings: descriptions of several injuries, reader gets beaten up, non-sexual nudity, tw for random guys in the qz, physical assault, mentions of blood, death, drugs, and typical tlouverse violence... reader is mid 20's, tess is early 40's, tess gives reader stitches (but it's ok they're unconscious), mentions of tess's past, tess and joel aren't a thing in this, but he is an asshole for the better part of the fic [lowkey enemies to friends w/ joel]. pining (a lot of mutual pining oh my god guys.) also pls don't come at me for inaccurate qz stuff, this is fanfic. nonbinary pronouns used the reader is afab! also this fic starts in readers pov and ends in tess's and i just realized that so don't hate me for it! xx

a/n: happy valentines day GAY PEOPLE. this is for you guys. and all the tess fic lovers. here is my prequel of Long Long Time that i wrote a little over a year ago when tlou hbo came out. i pour my heart into each and every fic i write. this is my child, be kind with her. i hope you all enjoy and don't forget to reblog to support your favorite creators!!

That day she found you, beaten and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

You never should’ve made this deal. 

Becoming a smuggler required more skill, more cunning –more than you had. Somehow, you’ve ended up right where you never thought you’d be: on the sour end of an unstable client. 

You knew your stock wasn’t as satisfying as the client demanded, but the amount of ration cards seemed too good to be true. It happened to be– regrettably you’d been a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. Nothing was ever that easy in this world. 

The first thing you felt was the end of a very sharp knife pressing into your back. Then you heard his voice in your ear, speaking punctually. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody gets past me. Not even you. I let you think you’re good at sneaking around. But I see everything.” 

Your breath hitched as his grip pulled you backwards into the alley. Once you turned away from the main road, you were met with another man, one you knew accompanied another man you dealt with often. He was dressed the same, and had that classic sketchy-guy look that told you exactly who’d approached you this hostile. 

It was a particularly unstable client, one you hesitated to continue business with due to his poor self-control. He was a junkie through and through, just a man too weak to settle into this world, needing a constant escape. You had unfortunately promised him a supply you didn’t have, and things escalated too far soon after. 

There was no reason to call for help either; it would be that easy for him to rat you out to FEDRA for selling pills. Even if those same soldiers were frequent customers of yours. Your voice had gone hoarse and the cut on your lip swelled enough to make it hard to speak. 

You couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that you never saw this coming, or that nobody would be coming to your rescue. 

Crack. 

Your shoulder was slammed into the wall with enough force that you toppled to the floor. Followed by multiple kicks to the stomach and sides, with not even a second’s notice. Your lunch felt closer to coming up with every rough kick of their boots into your torso. 

The amount of stock wasn’t nearly as close to what the client demanded, but his ration cards seemed too good to be true. To be fair, you weren’t cut out to be a smuggler; you were a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. It was never that easy in this world. 

Your knuckles scraped against the blacktop like sandpaper while attempting to stand, painted crimson while your skin ripped. When your vision went double, then triple, squeezing your eyes shut alleviated the pain for just a moment. 

Other than the blood you felt gushing from your hands, the throbbing in your head and torso made it difficult to move without immense pain. Weakened by several blows to the stomach, your legs finally gave out. Your ankle twisted the wrong way as you fell, while your palm caught on a sharp piece of rock, scraping it enough to burn. You were damned if you tried to yell for help.

You huff a breath, before a sharp pain stopped you short, coughing up blood that pooled in your chest. On all fours like a dog you were, with the two men standing above you muttering to themselves. 

Mercy, they called this having mercy on you. 

Some form of laceration cut deep enough to drip red hot blood down your forehead, and there was no doubt you had several more covering your body by the way everything burned. It dripped down your face and made everything blurry. 

Coughing hoarsely, you somehow found the strength to pull yourself off from the prone position, finding a wall to sit up against. Each time you moved, it felt as if your body was getting ripped apart. Your bones felt like glass, your skin like paper. Blood gushed from a slash on your arm, and your stomach had taken one too many blows to pull yourself to your feet. 

How the fuck did this happen?

You had been traveling through the QZ during late afternoon, around the central hob of trading. In the midst of the zone's chaos, you ducked into an alley as a shortcut, which was your first mistake. Minutes later, you had been roughly attacked from behind, and thrown against the wall with one motion.

“You got our pills, bitch?” Two sets of feet pointed toward you while weakened. 

“I need more time,” you breathed, convincing yourself more so than the man in front of you, “My dealer’s stingy with his supply. I can get it out of him, though. Soon.”  Your arms raised at your sides, knowing how many people secretly carried knives around the QZ. There was no way you were taking that chance. 

A pair of hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you up so you could hear them clearly. 

“We want the rest of our pills. And a pack of cigs. End of the day tomorrow. Or you’re all the way dead. You hear me?” 

The other man approached, unsheathing his blade and immediately pressed it to your cheek, standing not even a foot from your body. His blade was forced onto your skin so hard that it drew blood, and you called out in pain. 

“End of day tomorrow. The usual spot.” The one holding your collar said pointedly. 

A fast nod of your head paired with the incessant throbbing of his words within your mind had you struggling to comprehend anything. He released your collar, which resulted in you toppling onto the ground once more. The blood you coughed up afterwards stained your shirt, wiping it away with the sleeve of your flannel. 

You’d survived the chaos of outbreak day, almost running yourself into the ground trying to escape everything. That was the day you knew this would be a life of running, until you arrived in Boston. 

You weren’t sure about the Quarantine Zone at first. But then you saw a bed and pillow to sleep on every night. No more camouflaging yourself in the backseat of a car or suffering drastic temperatures and hoping you wake up not frozen to death the next day. 

To be fair, you tried to sign up for work shifts, but manual labor was never for you– especially not when it was shoveling shit, or transferring corpses to burn in fire pits. That kind of work was not how you intended to live out the rest of your life. 

That was when you landed on smuggling, since people had to be desperate for some kind of relief after taking orders from soldier douchebags all day. You probably would’ve been better off in the academy, not taking shit from a weasel of a dealer whose name you forgot, but whose ponytail you remembered. You’d gone from risking your life every day in the open world, dodging the swarms of runners underground to being forced into risking your life trying to make the junkies and downright miserable people of the QZ happy. 

Now, you’ve accepted that you were going to slowly bleed to death in this alley. Part of you wanted to resist, but the idea of not having to deal with anything like this ever again. It would just be that much easier to close your eyes and succumb. 

You whimpered at the pain running through your leg, a patch of maroon seeping through your jeans. Too weak to put pressure on any of your own wounds, you let your eyes close in defeat. The voice at the back of your head protested, wanting you to get up and fight for your life. But you just couldn’t. 

Eventually the air got cooler which you noted meant the sun had gone down, and you were in and out of consciousness. Warily, you opened your one good eye, spotting the patch of blood that had spread further from the gash on your leg. The sight made you queasy, so you closed your eye again and went back to unconsciousness for a while. It was the lone way everything stopped hurting, and bliss once you floated into it. 

“Psst. You alive?” The words rang sharp in your head with an ache so bad you couldn’t focus. The nudge at your foot woke you a bit, pulling you to consciousness slightly. No reply earned you a slightly harder kick to the leg, which shot another stinging pain up your leg. You groaned and your body moved a bit. 

Is someone there? 

Footsteps crunched against the blacktop, getting slightly louder. 

Fuck, please don’t hurt me, please, please.. 

“I’m just gonna check your pulse, so if you can hear me, don’t freak out.” Your head moved an inch weakly, unsure about this person being so close to you. A low groan of discomfort came from your chest, alerting the woman you were conscious. 

“Hey, hey. I’m not going to hurt you. Just needed to know if you were alive.” The voice was low, and it sounded feminine through the ringing in your ear. 

“H-help… me…” You managed to speak, your mouth and tongue tasting like iron. 

The woman went silent for a moment, taking a look over the state of your injuries. 

“You’re pretty fucked up, honey. God, what piece of shit did this to you?” She picked up on the multiple gashes on your body, staining your clothes, and your shoulder was visibly out of place. 

You decided to open your eyes to see who was crouched next to you. It was no use, your vision was still spinning from earlier. Sharp pains drummed against your head and obscured your ability to see. The one sole thing you could make out was someone with long, light colored hair and a dark pink shirt, but you kept looking around to see if your vision would come back. 

“Shit. I’ve gotta get you out of here. Just- just hold on. Name’s Tess, what’s yours?” You picked up on her moving about, unzipping what you assumed was her pack. 

You mumbled again, still unable to speak clearly. 

“Right, dumb question. So, I’ve gotta stop your bleeding, and your shoulder looks dislocated. I can only do one of those things right now, and then we can get you someplace safe. That means I’m gonna have to put pressure on your leg. Okay?” Her words came out matter-of-factly, and she seemed like a true survivor of this world. 

You begin to protest, moving slightly away from her and moaning with distrust. 

“Look, I promise, I will get you out of here. But I can’t have you leaving a blood trail through the streets. Alright?” She asked, and you hesitated for a moment, but nodded slightly. 

“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I need you to keep it quiet so it doesn’t attract soldiers. Can you do that?” 

Immediately, you shook your head no, and you heard the woman mumble to herself while she shuffled through her bag.

“Here, bite down on this. It’s a clean rag, and I promise that if you scream, it’ll be a hell of a lot quieter than if you didn’t have it.” She raised the rag up to your lips and waited for you to open your mouth. Somehow you trusted her to let her put it in. If this were some other old injury, you wouldn’t be giving an inch. But you happened to be on the brink of death right now, and you realized she’s probably saving your life. 

“I’m gonna put pressure on your cut now.” You heard her rearrange herself to be crouched over on the other side of you. With both her hands, she pressed down firmly on your wound. The stinging pain that died down earlier came right back when her hands made contact. She noticed your wound gushing through the first bandage in her hand. You groaned loudly into the cloth, grateful for its existence. 

“I know it hurts…” The woman spoke again, “Just hang in there. I’m gonna wrap your wound, and then once we’re safe, I can stitch it up.” 

You begin to protest, borderline trusting the woman in front of you. Then you realized, she was the only one here. 

"Look, I need to get you out of here. Need to get us out of here. Soldiers are gonna be swarming the streets all night, and it's almost sundown. I can take you to my place, and I’ll have a better chance to take care of you there. I know you probably don’t trust me, but it's the least I can do."

Considering the current situation, you didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Do what you… h-have to..” you muttered weakly. 

The pressure on your wound had lightened, while one of her hands rested on it as she used the other to grab for her bag again. She met your eye level for a moment, glancing up to survey your state. She went back to wrap some gauze around your thigh, tying it tighter than you would’ve liked, even though you knew it would help your wound begin to heal. 

“Okay, I think the bleeding stopped. You poor thing, let’s get you out of here.” You watched her zip up her pack and shrug it onto her back, while grabbing yours with her other hand. 

“It’s probably gonna hurt a lot if you try to stand, but we gotta get you up one way or another.” You felt her at your side, slipping your left arm around her shoulder. She had already noticed the sharp inhales you were taking upon moving from your spot. 

“Here, lean on me. I’ll carry you. Just keep breathing, honey.” 

The minute she began to lift you was when you knew something was really wrong with your other arm. It tingled all over and your shoulder ached something awful. 

“‘M t-tryin’– it hurts…” had been uttered under your breath with another whine of sharp pain as your body moved with hers. 

“I know. Shhh, Shh. Hey, Just put one foot in front of the other. You’ve got this.” Something about her voice was calming you, and it almost made up for all the pain. The two of you begin walking, slowly at first, testing out your strength for the journey. It took a minute of tripping over your own feet to steady yourself. 

“Promise we’re gonna get you fixed up, brand new.” She muttered under her breath, low enough so other people nearby didn’t hear. 

Somehow her words kept you going, limp after limp. Tess made sure you knew when you had to take a step up or down, and kept you going the whole time. 

“Yeah, you got it. We’re halfway there. Keep it up, doin’ great.” Her words reverberated in your head with an echo. You couldn’t see where you were stepping for the majority, but you trusted her to guide you. Another few minutes of walking had your body much more worn out than normal. Once she stopped at the side of a building, her arm went to push the door open.

“Here we are.” Tess kicked it shut behind you two, and balanced you against her body. The interior was warm on your skin, but somehow your body still shivered to its core. Inside, you could hear people shifting around, but the sounds blended together amongst your attempt to stay upright. 

“I’m s-so cold…” 

The strength in your body was draining with every step you took; you were ready to collapse. 

“I know, but you gotta keep your eyes open a little longer. We need to get you up these stairs. Then we’re home free.” 

You didn’t protest as she brought you closer, inching up each step carefully in order to not strain yourself. Your legs ached with every step, persevering to make it all the way.

The last step up the top stair drained the last of your stamina, evident by the way your fingers throbbed with each beat of your heart. You were out of it more intensely than when you had been outside. Your whole body was sensitive with some form of pain you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Tess led you down the short hallway, stopping in front of her door. She fumbled with her keys, although the jingling chain sounded more like glass breaking in your head. The door flew open, and she brought you inside, tossing your pack to the side while tossing her keys in another direction. 

“Alright, let’s set you down on the couch. Should be more comfortable than the damn ground.” Tess scoffed as she brought you over, keeping an eye on your limp. She turned you to the right, your bad arm on the outside of the couch as you were lowered down onto the cushions. When your feet were finally off the ground and your back rested against the pillows, it made a world of a difference. 

“Fuck… I’m so tired. Everything hurts.” You stifled a groan, but Tess saw how much pain you were in. Your eyes scrunched together every time you tried to move and there were multiple patches of blood seeping through your shirt. 

“I know. But I can’t leave your shoulder the way it is.” 

“My shoulder?” You hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about, your arms felt fine. 

No, it’s definitely the shock you’re in. 

“It’s dislocated. Pretty swollen already, you must be in shock. And I already told you that I’d have to pop it back in. Before we left, you don’t remember?” 

“No…” You mumbled, trying to recall; your memory was so groggy; you couldn’t remember half the day. 

“Shit, you probably have a concussion too.” Tess reached to the back of her jeans, pulling out the same rag as before. “But I’ve gotta set your shoulder before it’s permanently damaged. It’s probably been way too long already.” 

“How d’you know all this? Were you a doctor or something? Before?” Tess turned to face you, and you were able to focus on the features of her face for a moment. Her eyes were a light hazel color, and you could see little strands of grey peeking through her light brown hair. 

“Or something… I did a lot to survive after the outbreak. Learned a lot more to survive the hard times.” Her words trailed off, and she went to grab something from another part of the room. Tess had collected an old shirt of hers, and came back over to you. 

“Okay, so… I’m not good with pain clearly. Hope you still have that rag. Cause I’m gonna yell… or pass out. Either way, it’s gonna hurt a shit ton, and I’m gonna need it.” 

Without a doubt, Tess pulled the rag from her back pocket for you. 

“Got it right here. Kept it out of my pack cause I knew you’d need it again. This is gonna hurt a lot more than just some pressure on your cut.” She began tying the t-shirt together in a specific way, but you weren’t sure what she was doing with it. 

“Shit. I know… I know. Just do it.” You groaned, feeling a slight tingling sensation in your left hand shooting upwards to your shoulder. 

Tess set the now tied shirt onto the floor, as she kneeled down next to you. With one hand, she held the rag up to your mouth, and you bit down on it. Among the various other pains in your body, your shoulder was the worst of all. Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself enough, Tess met your eye once she had leaned down in front of you. 

“Ready?”

Wordlessly, you nodded your head. You were trying to keep calm, but the shock was wearing off and your pain came flooding back. One of Tess’s hands grasped your forearm, though you could barely feel her grip. 

“Okay. One, two…” 

Crack went your shoulder back into its socket with one swift motion. Just as she thought, you went groaning into the rag once again. Tess took her hands away and grabbed the makeshift sling she had tied together earlier. 

“Does that feel better?” She asked, watching you spit out the rag. You took another deep breath in and out, surveying the current feeling in your arm. 

“Yeah.” You weren’t sure if you believed it yourself, but for now you decided to. “Pain’s still there, but it definitely feels different. Better than before.”

“Good. Here, you’ve gotta wear your arm in this sling while it heals.” Tess lifted the tied up sling over your head, and it slipped on easily on once she had it situated the right way. 

“Could I get those pills now? The idea of any kind of grace from the amount of pain I was just in sounds like a dream.” You tried to laugh, but a cough came up instead. 

“Yeah. I’ve got Oxy, Hydro, Morphine…” She trailed off, not even knowing if you knew what she was talking about. 

“Honestly, whatever you think will be best. I honestly don’t know anything about dosages very well, and I trust you. Besides, I just wanna knock out for the night. I’m fucking exhausted.” Your words slurred a bit, due to your swollen lip, but Tess heard you well enough. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” 

Instead of trying to keep your eyes open, you shut them again in an attempt to alleviate the pain in your head, but it pounded nonstop. You listened to Tess’s boots on the wooden floor walking around to ground yourself. A couple minutes later, she returned to where you lay on the couch. 

You peeked your eyes open, and she’d crouched down with two pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other. 

“Got you water to wash it down with, if you want.” Her cupped hand held two of the white pills and you raised your good arm to grab them. Patient as she was, you moved slowly. 

There was no indication of any burdensome look on her face, which was odd– no one had ever been this kind to you before. You didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Slipping the pills between your lips, you grabbed for the cup of water. It began to slip out of your hand the minute Tess loosened her grip.

“Here, let me. You’re gonna be really weak for a while, so just close your eyes and relax.” She said, to which she brought the cup to your lips with no hesitation. 

“Now, while those pills kick in, I’ll see what I can do for your gashes and other injuries. All I want you to focus on is getting some sleep. You’re safe. I promise.” She touched your hand softly, then stood up and walked off to leave you space to rest. 

Once you closed your eyes, you felt the exhaustion wash over you, though it finally felt good to rest again. A few minutes passed, and the groggy effect of the pills began to set in. You were out in no time. 

In the meantime, Tess darted back and forth gathering supplies to fix you up; she’d sterilized a needle and thread to stitch up your leg, and took the last of her ace bandages out from her pack to use for your ankle. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the countertop, and brought what she needed over to you, couchside. 

Before Tess took the needle and thread between her fingers, she cut away the area of denim that was ripped from your gash.

“Sorry, kid. I’ll get you some new pants.” To be fair, those jeans of yours were filthy with dirt and muck stains you’d never be able to wash out. Not to mention the blood that spread had well enough to become a large patch. She attempted to wipe up the dried viscera around your cut best she could, dabbing with the alcohol lightly to sanitize it. She’d counted on you being unconscious from the pills to start stitching up your gash. Hands steady, she looped the needle and thread through your cut, pulling it closed with each tie. 

Though it wasn’t the most ideal situation for something like this, Tess had the experience. Stitching up cut after cut on the road for god knows how long, trying to keep moving forward, but somehow someone always got hurt. People kept dying, or turning– and that wasn’t even the worst part. Upon making it to Boston, she learned what it was to be calm under situations like this. To become cold. It got the best of her, more often than not; any idea of the old her was lost to dreams of the world before. She never looked back, never slowed down, never took even a moment for herself. Her routine was based strictly around finding the best way to get by in the QZ. The constant eye of FEDRA’s guards and firefly bombings were enough, let alone the mile-long lines for rations that were barely ever in. It was too much to subject herself to being controlled by an invasive military, especially after all she’d done to survive. Each person Tess left behind etched a sliver of her humanity off, chipping away the heartfulness she once carried with pride. 

Save who you can save, the last words whispered to her by someone that sacrificed themselves so she could make it to Boston. Everything blurred together sometime after getting admitted into the city; by then, she’d worn down that kind version of herself into the ground. Possibly that same place where she heard those words before. Quickly, she gained a reputation with Joel by her side in the smuggling business of the zone. It paid well– better than hard labor all day for a cruel amount of flimsy ration cards, just to repeat the same thing over the next day. There was a respectable line Tess drew between the things she’d done in the name of survival, and things she strongly disliked doing. 

Tess’s time in the QZ had only reinforced that rigid outer shell of hers, confident the softer, weaker person inside her was left behind for good.

She’d almost made it through the day without finding any trouble, but her path through the streets was detoured by FEDRA vehicles and it happened to be the quickest route back to her place. Tess’s steps were quick, aiming to make a b-line straight back. 

Then her eyes caught the image of your thoroughly beaten self, and attempted to shut down the itch in the back of her throat she couldn’t quite scratch. 

Just keep walking, she’d told herself. But her subconscious knew better. Then those words echoed lightly through her head. 

Tess, save who you can save…

“Shit…” 

She thought she’d forgotten them all. But time never does. Those poor souls lost to hordes of runners, clickers, stalkers– each one shoved down so deep inside, and the outside shell of her was simple glass. 

Keep walking, just keep walking…. No–

She truly tried to keep going, but each step gnawed into her further. Remembrance of the ones she’d lost shattered the glass holding her back, and glued her feet to the ground in place. A quick curse had Tess looking back over her right shoulder, catching a glimpse of your unmoving body. She’d figured if this were a trap, others would’ve already surrounded her. 

A deep sigh came from her exhale of a tightly held breath; her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, as if something about to burst. Any second thought of moving further had vanished, her feet pivoting against the concrete, toward the stagnant body lying soundless against the brick wall. 

Darkness swallowed every corner of that alley; Tess was fortunate to even have seen you at all. 

It wasn’t often she found herself stopping for anyone that needed help, let alone in the QZ. Underneath the swollen and crimson stained injuries, she saw a young individual subdued and unconscious from their injuries. That was the moment she’d called out to you. 

Tess shook those pre-Boston nightmares from her mind, putting all of her focus onto fixing up your ankle. With the discoloration of bruises that covered your ankle, it baffled her how you were even able to trek as far as you had gone. Her eyebrows furrowed relentlessly, each one of your injuries more surprising than the last. 

“Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourself into?” She muttered to herself, before grabbing the roll of bandages from her pack. Tess was so focused on getting your ankle wrapped, that she hadn’t heard the creak of the wooden floor from behind her. 

“Tess… what’re you doin’?” 

Unbothered by the voice, her hands kept working. Though, she knew she’d woken her roommate from his slumber. Joel Miller hadn’t thought this was what he’d be seeing at almost two in the morning. 

“Wrapping an ankle, the hell do you think I’m doing?” 

“Tess. who the fuck is this?” By the tone of his voice, she knew he was pissed. She dare not poke the bear this late. 

“It’s uh… well, no. I don’t know. They couldn’t speak when I found them.” She’d finished securing the bandage around your ankle, and placed it back down on the couch.

“Do you even know their name?” Joel stepped towards Tess, his brow furrowed. 

“Joel… they were lying beat up and bloody in an alley. I wasn’t gonna take the chance and leave them there to die.” She reached for the other pillow on the couch, and placed it delicately for your ankle to rest on. 

“Well, did you even check their pack for weapons?” 

Tess huffed a breath, and stood up straight, turning to the man. 

“I was a little preoccupied making sure they weren’t bleeding out. Besides, they didn’t have any on their body. But if you insist…”

She took the moment now to move towards your pack she’d thrown into a corner earlier, taking out a notebook, some ration cards, and a couple bags of pills. 

“What the fuck? Tess, this could be a setup.” Joel muttered, the tone of his voice unsettled by the situation. 

“What? No. No fucking way, Joel. I’m telling you, they would’ve died out there if it wasn’t for me.” 

“You’ve gotta stop tryin’ to save people that ain’t worth it. That’s how we’re still alive, why we’re here and the dead ain’t.” 

“No, I don’t believe you. They’re unconscious and didn’t even see you, by the way. I think you’re fine.” Tess shook her head while she spoke. 

“Well, it’s our business that goes to shit if you’re wrong.” Joel spat, beginning to walk back to his door. 

“I don’t really give a shit. Not tonight. What I do care about is making sure this person stays alive. I couldn’t care less about distributing pills to junkies.” 

She did care about the smuggling, just not as much as she did about keeping you alive for the night. 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

His door shut and locked, leaving Tess alone with you for the night. She collected herself after that conversation, preparing anything she might need throughout the night to treat you. Just in case. 

Her muscles finally relaxed the minute she’d sat down in a chair adjacent to her couch. While she draped a blanket over her legs, Tess took one last look at you, studying your rising chest and calm features. 

You’re gonna be alright. 

Beams of sunlight painted the walls with a glowing warmth, cast across the older woman’s skin. Morning broke early, waking Tess before either of the habitants that resided in the Boston apartment. She’d always been a light sleeper, despite that it was loud most hours in the walls of the QZ. Living in Detroit her whole life had certainly accustomed her to it. 

Her hazel eyes opened against the light, finding themselves staring upwards at the ceiling. Tess had woken up several times throughout the night, which had become a normal occurrence for her. Events from last night flashed through her mind as she rose from her slumber. Her slumped position resulted with an uncomfortable spot in her neck from the chair she’d been in all night. Tess sat up as best she could, grasping the nape of her neck for comfort. No matter how many times she tried to get rid of the pain, nothing relieved her. Defeated by the lack of sleep, she rose from the chair and looked over at you still asleep on the couch. 

Rays of sunlight happened to catch right over your face, peeking through the blinds as they awoke you from rest. Yesterday had become a blur quicker than light. 

Where am I? What happened to me? It hurts everywhere…

You shifted lightly with a groan, eyes still closed. A headache pinged at the sides of your temples, and you took a sharp breath out of reflex. You weren’t able to move your body freely; exhaustion had drained you enough. Out of the blue, you heard a female voice echoing in your ears. Your one good eye opened, and it took a minute to adjust to the light, along with any blurriness. 

“Hey, you with me?” Her voice called out to you, unintelligible at first, but once you focused on the words more, you understood. 

“Where… where am I?” You mumbled, attempting to lift yourself up. You didn’t know what was worse; not knowing where you were, or not being able to lift your body normally. 

“Don’t try to sit up. You’re safe, but you’re too weak to sit up right now. I saved you last night, patched you up. Remember? My name’s Tess.” 

“Not really…” you sighed, accepting your weakened state. 

Tess knew it would take more than just one night to gain your trust; she also knew Joel wouldn’t be as patient. She crouched down by the side of the couch where you were, getting closer to make sure you heard her. 

“So, I pulled you out of that alley last night, patched you up and kept you safe the past twelve hours. I think that warrants me your name.” 

Your eyes glanced over her figure, the image of Tess still fuzzy. Considering all the factors, and the fact that you were still alive, you gave in and told her your name. Tess nodded contently and spoke again.

“Well, you probably have a concussion. But I cleaned and bandaged up everything else I could. Your left arm was dislocated, but I popped it back in last night. That’s why it’s in the sling. Don’t try to move it much, it’ll take a while to heal. As for your ankle, it’s twisted pretty bad. Bruised, too. You’re gonna be off your feet for a while.” Surveying the bumps and bruises you’d received, she set other supplies to the side on the floor.

You glanced down at your body, pulling back the blanket over your legs to find your stained jeans and the stitched up gash, with other bandaging around your ankle. 

“You saved me? And bandaged me up?” You speak clearly for the first time, and Tess stopped in her movement. 

“Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive. I wasn’t gonna let you die out there.” 

“What..” you swallowed, “What happened to me?” 

“From the looks of it, you were on the bad side of a shitty deal gone wrong. Like I said, you’re lucky to be alive.” Her tone was calm, and impressive to see in a situation that was anything but. 

“You went through my pack?” 

“I found you in an alley. Almost dead. Can you blame me?” 

“Guess not…” you said, sighing and trying to sit up. With one arm in a sling, you were having trouble moving without anything hurting. The pills were wearing off little by little as time passed. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. You’re gonna be couch bound for a while.” 

“What? No way. I need to… I have business and shit I need to get done–” 

“Don’t play coy. We know you’re a smuggler.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, pacing in small circles. 

“Well, you went through my bag. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Wait, did you say we?” 

Before Tess could respond, a gray haired man emerged from behind her, jutting into the conversation. 

“You’re real cocky for someone that almost ended up dead from one of your clients. For all I know, this whole thing is a setup for you to rob us, kill us, or somethin’ else. But I ain’t gonna take that chance. Not now, not ever. Are we clear?” His southern accent came out as he spoke, and it wasn’t often you heard a voice like his among the Boston streets. It was intimidating enough; you didn’t trust him. 

“Yeah– okay, dude. Jesus, I don’t even know who you are. I didn’t know you guys were smugglers!” your voice strained while you lift your arm to gesture. 

“Joel, I was the one that brought them here. Like you said, this is on me. And I’ve got it. Walk it off, Texas.” 

The man named Joel walked backwards, dark eyes trained on you until the moment he turned around and left. He shut the front door in haste. 

“Is he always that tense?” You ask, taking a deep breath. 

“No. It’s not every day I bring anyone back to this apartment. Let alone someone who looked half dead, like yourself. No offense.” 

“Yeah… Why did you save me, by the way? You could’ve just left me there. But you didn’t.” 

“I told you… I wasn’t going to let you die. I thought you were dead at first, but I took the chance and saved your damn life. Is that what you wanna hear?” Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could focus on the woman’s features much more easily up close. You finally made out the face of your savior, Tess was a woman with light brown hair, longer than her shoulders but not too long. Her eyes were green, and there were lines on her face from time passing. With her stern voice, you wouldn’t know her face would look as calm. 

“Well, thank you.” You admitted, half ashamed you even thought about staying there to die in the first place. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Just as the silence settled, your body became aware of every injury you’d received. A sound of discomfort slipped past your lips, furrowing your eyebrows together. 

“Are you in pain? What hurts?” Tess began looking over the stitches she’d done the night before. 

With a groan, you replied, “Everything…” 

“Alright, I can give you a couple more pills for the pain. Uh wait– do you need to use the bathroom? I assume it’s been a while…” 

“Oh, yeah. I think in my near death I’d been.. You know, going without the ability to control it.” 

“Right… Well, I can get you a clean pair of clothes, but it won’t do any good if you’re wearing your own body fluids. Do you– would you like a bath?” 

Immediately insecure, you realized how filthy you must’ve become, spending most of yesterday soaked in your own blood and urine. Quickly, you nodded while looking down, shame washing over you. 

“Okay, Joel’s not gonna be back for a few hours. I can spare you some new clothes and underwear, but your boots I can just clean off later. I’ll re-wrap your injuries after, too. For now, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up.” 

She lifted you from the couch dutifully and slung you over her shoulder to head towards the bathroom. Tess recognized your sounds of discomfort, a string of sharp breaths and muffled groans you thought she didn’t hear. 

“Almost there. Here we go.” Her hip pushed the door open, sitting you on the chair next to the tub. Once the water was on and flowing, Tess found the right temperature and began filling the tub. She made her way back to you, and began to untie your boots, placing them off to the side. She took off your button down shirt, which revealed more black and blue bruising across your back and shoulder. You hissed a breath as she pulled the sleeve down off your left arm. Before moving further, Tess looked toward you with kind eyes. 

“It’s okay. Don’t feel ashamed. It’s just hard now. But you’ll be alright… Can I continue?” Her hand rested on your good shoulder patiently. You nodded silently, realizing the intimacy of the situation and looked down at the floor. 

Slowly, cautiously, and gently, she undressed you while the tub filled beside you both. Not only was your body covered in bruises and scrapes, but dried blood and other viscera had caked on a few layers. The bandages from last night were discarded to the side, fresh ones in the other room for when you were clean. She saw your reaction as you entered the water, your face contorted in both pain and pleasure while you sat. The warmth of the liquid against your torso was another level of soothing, flooding your skin with goosebumps and washing off some of the dried blood upon submerging yourself into the tub. Tess grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap, lathering it up before wiping it across your back. 

“I don’t know how to thank you. This is…” 

“You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t have to thank me. Please– please don’t thank me.” Tess knew this wouldn’t make up for the numerous people she’d left behind– left to die so she could persevere ahead. But all she had to do was goddamn try. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, sighing while she kept cleaning off your body. Her hands were soft against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Though she was doing something as intimate as washing you, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have on any other occasion. She carefully avoided running over your scrapes and other open wounds, yet still washing them lightly with the soap and water. Before long, the water had become a dark brown color from how much had washed off of you. Tess began to drain the tub, keeping the faucet running as it drained. 

“Mind if I wash your hair?” 

It was just a simple question, but it sparked your anxiety a bit more than when she undressed you earlier. 

“Uh.. sure.” 

Tess washed out the tub with a bucket while you sat in it. She lathered some shampoo between her palms, rubbing it across your scalp with gentle fingers. 

You couldn’t deny, Tess’s hands were calloused and rough, but they felt like heaven against your scalp. Rubbing the pads of her fingers into your head was somehow better than all the times you’d done it yourself. Eyebrows furrowed against the sensation, and you groaned lowly. You somehow alerted Tess, wondering if she’d pressed too firmly on your head. 

“What happened? Does it hurt? Sorry if I’m going too hard–”

“No, it’s great. Keep going.” You breathed. 

“Okay..” she chuckled a bit before continuing, then used the bucket to wash the rest out from your locks before applying conditioner. One of her hands grabbed the brush on the floor, slowly untangling the mess of knots in your hair. The warm water calmed you like nothing you’d experienced before, at least not since after the world fell. Appreciation flowed through you, and the comfortable silence reinforced that all the more. It was a safe feeling, one you shared with this kind, and beautiful woman. She’d washed the leftover soap and conditioner off your body, and began to towel dry your skin in a gentle manner. 

“Here, wrap yourself in this. I’ll be right back with the clothes.” Quick footsteps brought her to the pile of clothes she’d attained over the months on the run. She’d returned to the bathroom with a few things in hand, and approached you. Carefully, she stood you from the tub and stepped back onto the floor while wiping the remaining water droplets off your back. 

“Thanks..” you shivered a bit against the cold air, wanting to be clothed and back under the thick blanket. The socks she slipped over your feet helped warm you, while carefully slipping on the rest of her clothes. Tess even brought a spare sports bra for you to borrow for the time being. Something about the way she moved so calmly, spoke with such a soothing voice that made this whole situation seem lighter. On any other day, you’d be stressing about finding the right pills for a client or risking your life outside the walls. Her soft movements sparked something inside you with a new kind of warmth, and it almost atoned for everything you’d been through the past 12 hours. 

Once you were dressed, Tess towel dried your hair and began to tie up another sling for your arm. 

“When you’re back on the couch, I’m gonna put some ice on your ankle. It’ll help with the swelling and probably some of the pain.” You nodded silently, taken back constantly by her kindness. 

“If you’re in pain, I could give you another dose of pain meds. But it depends on if you want to eat something beforehand. It’s been since yesterday since you ate anything, probably for the both of us. I can fix you something to eat, though.” 

“Oh, uh, sure.” You weren’t completely sure what you were doing here still, your mind foggy from the night before. The way your injuries burned and ached against one another had you aching for some kind of relief– any kind at this point. How you got yourself here, you weren’t sure of either. 

Not much later, Tess came over with something suitable for you to eat, before giving you a couple more pills for the pain. Again you fell drowsy from the pain medication, resting the day away. With you resting calmly on the couch, Tess did her best to stay awake until Joel returned, running on less than five hours of sleep. It felt like ages before he came through the apartment door once again. 

“Hey, can you… keep an eye on them, please… I barely got any shuteye last night.” 

“I just got back–” 

“Joel, please.”

“Fine.” 

“Don’t hurt them, Miller. Seriously. Or I’ll hurt you.” She mumbled under her breath, trudging to the door. 

“I’ve got it. Just go.” 

With that, Tess collapsed on her mattress, not even bothering to pull the sheet over her, before drifting off to sleep the minute her eyelids fluttered shut. 

On the couch, you woke to a silent morning; no movement could be heard amongst the apartment. Your eyelids fluttered open, turning your head to look for Tess; instead you were met with the dark eyes of Joel Miller. His figure sat across from you, adjusting the gun in his hand so you could see it well. 

“You try anything funny, you get a bullet.” Joel raised his hand to gesture with the weapon. He noticed the bags under your eyes were dark and sunken in, making you appear more dead than alive at the moment, despite all the bandages. 

“You wouldn’t shoot me here. It’d be too loud and soldiers would be here quicker than light.” You rasped, coughing lightly from your dry throat. 

“Wanna bet?” He leaned in with a menacing glare. You kept eye contact with him as he began to stand, the intimidation not making a dent in you. It was enough to make Joel second guess his opinion of you for a moment. 

“Joel, stand down.” Tess called from the other side of the room. You called her name from the couch, and she quickly replied. 

“I’m here. Do you need anything?” She came into eyesight now, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and casually wearing a sweatshirt. Tess gave Joel a look, motioning for him to leave the room. 

“Yeah. I need to get out of here and home.” Your eyes watched the older man get up, watching as Tess approached, “My client’s probably freaking the fuck out and wreaking havoc across the QZ looking for me.” 

“About that…” She strolled over to where you were, taking a seat, “You need to tell me who did this to you.”

“What? N-No… I can’t. He’s my client. I can deal with him.” You shot up in your seat, groaning slightly. 

“Oh right. Like that worked out so well last time?” Joel spoke, walking away. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at what Tess was suggesting.

“Trust me, kid. You’ll thank me later.” She added. 

“I’m already thanking you later. I’ll probably be owing you for the rest of my life.” 

“No, kid–” 

“Don’t call me kid. I’m grown. I can take care of myself.” 

“Okay, you’re gonna have to prove it, then. You still need time to heal.” Tess insisted you lay down again, but her words flew in one ear and out the other.

“I need to not be couch bound and sleeping through the day! I need to have a life, some kind of life in this shit hole of a city! Don’t you get it?” Your voice was rising, straining against the irritation. 

“I do, trust me. I do. It’s why we got into that business, too. But hun, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I hope you know that. Now, I’d like to know…” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to look you in the eye. 

“Let it go. It doesn’t matter!” 

“Yes it does. Who did this to you?” Her voice spoke pointedly, holding strong eye contact with you. Your eyes closed for a second, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“His info is on the third page in my notebook. You’ll know it’s him cause his orders take up almost the whole fucking page.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Tess stepped toward your pack, rummaging through it until she found the notepad. Pocketing it, she walked over to Joel’s door, ajar, and spoke. 

“Texas, make our guest something to eat. I have some business to attend to.” She turned toward the door, exiting the apartment with your notebook in hand. 

“Wait, Tess!” 

Your voice fell on deaf ears; she was already down the hallway and gone. Once the man emerged from his bedroom, you shared a plain look as he made his way to the kitchen. Before reaching for the cupboard doors, he grabbed the bottle of amber liquor and poured some into a glass. 

“Pour me a glass of that, please.” 

“Are you even old enough?” 

“Are you kidding? I’m 25. Now can you pour me a damn drink already?” 

Silently, Joel rolled his eyes and poured some into a glass for you. It was his peace offering before he went back to find something for you to eat. You ended up sharing some soup and crackers with Joel for dinner, awaiting the older woman’s return afterwards.

An hour or two passed before Tess made her way back. You were resting on the couch when the door opened. She took a sharp breath in upon entering, and let the door slam behind her louder than usual. It gained your attention and Joel’s, looking toward the door. You heard her hiss a breath, while she shook out her fist. 

“Shit, Tess. What did you do?” She walked further into the apartment, the light glimmering against the fresh blood across her lip. 

“Took care of that client of yours.” She muffled a groan, stretching out her fist while her knuckles bled. 

“Did you kill him? The fuck–” You began to try and stand on your good foot, but stumbled before you could get any closer to her. 

“What? No, I didn’t kill him. Just taught him a lesson. That smug fucker. I don’t know why you did business with him. He’s a bad junkie. You never do business with a bad junkie.” She sat down near you again, noticing the empty whiskey glass nearby on the floor. 

“He was my most frequent customer. Shady as hell, if I’m honest, he kinda scared me. That’s how I knew it was him when I got attacked. 

“That’s naïve of you. Why would you ever do something that risky by yourself?” 

“I… didn’t have anyone else who was willing to risk their lives sneaking around the QZ. So I said fuck it.” 

“Well, I still think you’re a dumbass. You’re just lucky you’re staying out of the smuggling market for a while.” 

“No, I told you I can’t. I need to–” 

“You need to rest and heal. I swear to god, if I hear one more word about you getting on your feet before you’re a hundred percent, I swear I’ll chain you to the couch.” 

“Jesus, fine. I won’t go back out there. Throw my entire business away just to wait till these injuries kill me in the middle of the night, I guess.” 

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. The only reason I’m being an asshole about this is because I want you to survive. I didn’t pull you off the street to let you go back to that shitty situation.” Her words were honest, even if you didn’t believe them. 

“Well, thanks. I guess.” 

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” She shrugged your thanks off and went about her business. 

The future weeks proved to be the longest haul you thought you’d ever been in. It consisted of a lot of reading, sleeping, and wishing you could be on your feet. You ended up asking Tess to take a trip to your place and retrieve some of your things; you were tired of having to put her out of her own clothes to wear. Plus it would just be more comfortable for you. Tess checked your injuries daily, reapplying bandages and cleaning on a steady schedule. She would not let you die from infections after doing all she could to save your life that night. 

The two older individuals went about their days more regularly once you were out of the woods with all of your injuries. Tess helped you to and from the table so you could join them for meals, otherwise spending the day rereading old books and magazines while trying to find other things to do than just sit around and rot. You were grateful for Tess saving your life, but this healing process was a bitch. 

 Standing wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, especially having been off your feet for days on end. Much less the blood loss you’d experienced, it was humbling to not be able to get around on your own. Slowly as the first week passed, Tess helped you get back on your feet bit by bit. You had enough strength after another week to stand on your own.

One day, the smuggling duo was planning a run while surveying a map they’d drawn up. You nonchalantly watched, sitting in a chair neary. They hadn’t noticed you, until you mentioned a route they hadn’t heard of, and her attention turned to you, impressed with your knowledge and jotted the trail down for later. 

“Wait, question. Do you guys know Robert?” Your arms crossed over your chest. 

Both Joel and Tess turned towards you now, their eyes widened and faces grim. 

“Why?” Joel asked with a stern voice. 

“He’s one of the guys that uses that route. At least, his guys do. So be careful.” 

“You’re telling me you used to run with Robert?” 

“Only for a little. Seemed like he wanted more than just business… with me. But I got out of there before it was too late.” Tess scoffed, a smirk forming on her face. 

“Tell you what. You wanna keep smuggling, you join us when you’re fully healed.” 

Joel turned to her, but she shot him a look and turned back to the map silently. 

“You’re sure?” You asked, sitting up. 

“I’m sure. Not gonna let you put yourself in danger again when you could have us at your side.” She looked back down at the map and continued jotting in her notes. 

“Okay, cool.” You smiled to yourself, thinking Tess didn’t see, but she glanced up for a moment after she heard your words. She noticed the eagerness in your eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. 

So, it wasn’t all for nothing, you thought. 

You weren’t given a second chance to live just to lose what got you through the days and weeks on your own. This gave you another opportunity to survive with individuals by your side; you wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

Caring came far too easy for Tess. She'd seem cold on the outside, and sure, she was a reserved person. But to see you so overjoyed about being able to continue smuggling, she couldn’t help but have a little warm feeling in her chest. 

She thought the first time would be the only time a spark would flicker inside her. But then you were laughing at something idiotic one night, and she felt it again. The tensions between you and Joel had broken– finally. For the first time in a while, Tess saw multiple things looking up: you were recovering on a steady pace, and on an even better note, becoming a friend to her. She read you books, mostly classics from what she’d traded for. Ultimately grateful, you listened intently to every word she read, while trying to not fall asleep from her soothing voice. 

Under all the scratches and bruises, Tess saw your kindness and personality reveal with everyday that passed. She became privy to the way you saw the world with a gentle hand, reinforcing that spark in her chest. Yet that same spark came with guilt; she knew it wasn’t fair to fall for you after all you’d been through. She wasn’t sure if you’d ever trust someone like that again. So that spark was only kept as embers, in a lockbox on a very high, very dusty shelf in her mind. 

Another week of healing went by, and you were finally able to stop wearing your arm in a sling. You spent the day traveling back to your place to grab some things you’d need for the next few days. Tess insisted you stay in the apartment with her and Joel while you healed. You hadn’t been home since the day you were attacked, other than the days Tess was kind enough to retrieve some things for you. 

As of present day, you had gained the ability to walk on your ankle back after almost a month of being off it. The first thought in your head the morning of was that a trip outside the walls of the apartment. You also knew others might want to pay you a visit if you returned back by yourself, which is when you mentioned the idea to Tess. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with. When do we leave?” 

“Right now.” You grinned at her with content before you went to grab your pack. 

The two of you flew down the steps and out the door, Tess following behind you with caution. Your first step into the outside air was something you missed within almost a month of being indoors. While it wasn’t exactly sunny, the cool air was refreshing against your skin and differed greatly from the apartment. 

“Don’t run off now.” the older woman muttered, shutting the door behind her. Just from the way you moved, Tess could tell you were in need of something like this. You looked around at the same old streets of the QZ like it was something completely new. She felt lucky to be the one seeing this part of you, the healed and healthy part. 

“C’mon, I’ll lead the way.” You turned back to her, noticing her hazel eyes trained in your direction, then shifted to the path in front of you. A few minutes of walking passed, and you’d picked up some pairs of eyes looking your way from people on the surrounding streets. It was more of a side eye glance than a stare, but still you noticed it. After being terrified to leave the four walls of the apartment, being perceived was a bit more intimidating than you thought it’d be. You slowed your steps, letting Tess catch up with you. 

“Um, Tess?” You mumbled, glancing back towards her. 

“What’s up?” 

“All these people keep staring...” 

Tess surveyed the area before noticing something you hadn’t, and she chuckled. 

“They’re not looking at you, they’re staring at me.” You did a quick glance back and forth, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. Let’s keep going.” You turned back after nodding to her, hiding the tiny smile that snuck its way onto your lips. It was almost like walking with a scary dog at your side, except said scary dog was the taller woman trailing behind you. 

From the way multiple pairs of eyes shot in her direction, some glazed over, some didn’t notice as you passed by. Other pairs of eyes widened as they fell on the figure of the woman behind you. You don’t know how she’s done it, but Tess Servopolous has the Boston QZ wrapped around her finger. It seemed everyone–including Joel Miller himself– had themselves under her spell. They did whatever she wanted the moment she asked. There was no second guessing her, and when she said to do something, you were damn well to do it. You learned the hard way during your healing process, stubborn and complaining that you couldn’t get around on your own. 

One night when you were bickering, she’d tried to convince you that you weren’t ready to try and walk on your bad ankle yet. Stubborn and impatient, you kept talking back to her. 

“Don’t even try to get up.” 

You’d been overstressing yourself about getting back on your feet, so as to find another way to keep smuggling. 

“Watch me.” You had hoisted yourself off the couch halfway, then used the last of your stamina to pull yourself the rest of the way up. The first step you took was with your good foot, but the minute you stepped with the other, you groaned and stumbled from the pain, landing on the ground. 

“I told you…” Tess was at your side before you could attempt to move yourself back to the couch.

Gentle and slow, her hands around your body were familiar as if you’d known them to be the hands of a long time lover. They were just Tess’s hands, but to you, they couldn’t hurt or kill any more than they could wash over your injuries with a soft touch. When you got a better look at her for the first time, you saw the kindness in her eyes, and her heart in the actions she took towards you. 

Common human decency was to take care of someone injured or sick, but you felt something different in the way she tended to you. It was in the way she used her hand to lift up your chin to check how your cuts were healing. Especially when she inspected the one on your lip for a bit too long, claiming it was healing fast and that you shouldn’t try to open it again. All you could hear when she spoke was your own heart beating in your ears, lost in the hazel of her eyes. She’d even found you a cane, but you paid it no mind and kept letting her help you instead.

“I’d hate to feel like a burden…” 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind taking care of you.” A warmth flushed through your cheeks when her words hit your ears. 

You could tell somewhere deep down, Tess used to care for people as easy as breathing. From the way she knew so much about patching others up, she wanted to keep people going, no matter the circumstances, you knew she cared much more than she showed. 

Being on your feet again, outside those same bland apartment walls brought a new feeling you weren’t able to identify. It was different not walking alone for once in the streets, always having to glance over your shoulder just in case. Now when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Tess, and you hoped she’d stay in your life for longer than just when you were healing from your injuries. She meant too much to you to just forget about after she’d been by your side the whole time. 

The route to your apartment wasn’t far from where Tess lived, and you were there within no time. It was a bit overwhelming once you came up to the door, fidgeting with the keyring until it clicked into the lock. 

“Well, here we are.” You opened the door, stepping into the stale air of your place. Things were as you’d left them, with a few odds and ends out of order from when Tess had stopped by for some of your toiletries. All your knickknacks were scattered about, some across the countertops and any spare surface you could find. Some, if not most, were collected on the road, and others were from your home when you first fled. 

“Nice place you got here.” 

“You should know, being the only person to be here besides me in the past few weeks.” you chuckle, shoving your keys back in your jeans pocket. They actually happened to be Tess’s, but you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. She didn’t mind either.

She’d been contemplating a lot on the walk over, worried about what might happen when you were fully healed. Tess knew there was a problem when her heart warmed at the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the couch, then remembered what you’d been through and wanted to burn the whole QZ down. 

It was almost gone when you started to heal, until she couldn’t sleep thinking about what could happen to you when you went back out there. A wave of restlessness washed over her, and it’d been very hard to accept the fact that you could end up right back where she found you. 

“Guess you’re right.” Tess muttered, stepping into the cool air of the apartment. 

“I’ll be a minute, gonna grab some clothes and then we can head back.” You spoke, her eyes trailing down your back as you walked into the other room. Silently, she moved about the main room, her eyes catching all the different little objects around the space. Tess didn’t know how you had time to collect all these different things– from shells to rocks to other small toys and charms that lay about– there was no shortage of oddities. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of your open bedroom door. Timidly, she peeked inside to see you rustling through a few drawers and shoving clothes into a backpack. 

“Nice… room. Cozy.” You glanced up at her for a moment while folding the clothes to put in your bag. 

“Thanks, I tried to make it as home-y as possible. Makes up for the whole quarantine zone thing.” 

“I get it.” Tess chewed the inside of her lip nervously, stepping into the room slightly, leaning one of her arms against the doorframe.

“Do you? That place of yours is barely decorated.” You snarked, trying to cover up how aware you were of how domestic she looked standing in your bedroom doorway. She was perfect with the light beams of sunlight peeking over her shoulder. 

“Guess stuff like that doesn’t really matter to me.” 

But she wanted it to matter; she wanted it to matter to her so desperately. For you, she’d do anything– put up with whatever you threw at her, because she cared. There wasn’t a way to tell when Tess noticed this fire burning inside her, lit aflame by your out righteousness. 

She pined to see reminders of you every day when she wakes up. To see you when she opened her eyes in the morning. You’d simply been indented into her mind, and refused to give way. 

“Y’know, you’re still welcome at my place after you get back on your feet. Seriously. My place is yours.” Tess took a step into your room nervously. 

“Oh, well thanks. That means a lot. I mean… I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me. It’s not like we won’t see each other ever again. I’ll probably spend most nights at your place when we start working together.” 

I would never want to stop coming around you either way… 

On the instance of becoming friends with the woman who saved your life, it occurred to you quite rapidly that the feelings you had for her weren’t just appreciation. It shouldn’t have been that easy to realize you wanted her… to be entranced with her in a way so distracting. Some days you weren’t sure if you were actually feeling better on account of listening to every groove of her voice streak through your mind with no return. You could hardly believe she was standing in your apartment as of today, let alone sharing a space so intimate as your bedroom. 

“Besides… It's your apartment. You must both want your respective space back.” 

Tess sighed, masking the pit in her stomach when she thought about you on your own again. God forbid you ended up right where she found you; that would be a gut wrenching nightmare. It was already hard enough seeing you beaten up and barely hanging on to life. To even ponder the idea that it could happen again? She’d take absolutely no chances. 

Getting protective when you’ve known them for three weeks, Tess? Pretty weak to let someone in while you couldn’t protect the rest of them.

“Even when you do start working with us, you’ll be right between me and Joel. That way you’ll always have one of us on your six, watching your back. We’ll have your back.” She started with a small smile, while simultaneously ignoring the voice in her head. You met her eye and nodded with a smile, zipping your bag shut. 

“Very considerate of you, Tess. But if you don’t teach me how to hold my own, I’ll start practicing on Joel.” You slung your bag across your shoulder, watching as Tess followed you out. 

“Oh, I’ll definitely teach you. Joel will just have to be fine with being the dummy.” She followed with a chuckle, taking another look at the interior of your bedroom like she would never see it again. 

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll still be on your couch tonight.” You said, before walking out the door and locking it behind Tess. 

The only epiphany Tess had that day was that she never wanted you to leave. Never wanted to lose sight of you, never wanted to be without you, could never even imagine losing you. Tess had stuffed all those warm feelings down in a tight little box that sat on a dusty shelf in the back of her mind. When she would revisit the idea of actually having a chance with you, she was unsure. But she’d do her damndest in the meantime to shove away those pesky butterflies in her stomach. 

It would be a long, long time before she revisited that box again. 

a/n: i linked it at the top but i will link it here as well, this is a prequel to another one of my fics called long long time. You can find that fic here and all my other tess fics here!

#ryesff #devnmon writes #devnmonwrites #tess servopolous #tess tlou #tess tlou hbo #tess servopolous x reader #tess servopolous fanfiction #angst #theresa servopolous #theresa tess servopolous #tess x reader #tess the last of us #tess tlou fanfic #tess the last of us part 1 #wlw fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfiction #dividers by cafekitsune #dividers by saradika

[one-flower-one-sword]

finished tgcf vol 8 last night (the main story, I'm still making my way through the extras), and I just... I cried so much T_T

even though I already knew most of what would happen. somehow that actually made it worse, I was full on sobbing at times (well I had also picked music to listen to so that also contributed but still)

I don't have the words to express what tgcf means to me, right now this is my absolute favorite book series I've ever read. and also... hualian... I cannot deal, I cannot deal with them, I've rarely ever had a love story affect me this profoundly

I also cannot overstate what an absolute pillar of support this story was for me this year. I picked up Volume 1 almost exactly one year ago, and from that moment on tgcf was like the lifeboat that got me through a really tough year where I was also sick more often than not (I'm disabled with chronic fatigue)

tgcf vol 1 was also the first book I'd read after ten years where due to various mental illness issues I couldn't read books at all, a crass contrast to how I used to devour them from the moment I was able to read. but then whatever was blocking me, it feels like tgcf just... allowed it to heal. that alone I consider an immense gift that I'm incredibly grateful for, as I had honestly feared I'd never be able to read books again

I'll miss this story so so much, but I'm also just so unspeakably grateful for its existence

also I'm very grateful for all the positive feedback and interaction my little analysis posts have received, I honestly didn't expect that at all when I started posting. I just had so many thoughts while reading and desperately needed to express them, but I thought surely no one else would be all that interested in them. so the attention is completely unexpected but very appreciated, thank you :')

speaking of I'll start posting my vol 8 observations at some point but I'm actually still not done with my vol 6 and 7 thoughts, because the more I read the more things started occurring to me. I also have some fanfic planned because I'm not ready to let this story go, not for a long time and probably not ever 🦋

#kelpie talks #tgcf #this is a mess I'm sorry #I'm still really emotional

[iam93percentstardust]

so one of the things that i think is happening in the likes vs reblogs debate is that when people who support reblogging over liking say things like "likes don't do anything," they don't mean they literally don't do anything. what they mean is that in the grand scheme of how this site works--as a blogging platform--a like doesn't share the post any further than your own blog. no one else is ever going to see the post; it's going to end right there.

but, for whatever reason, whether it's in bad faith or just misunderstanding, people who support liking over reblogging seem to consistently take this as the other side does mean that liking literally doesn't do anything, which they then meet with the argument that of course it does something. it, as i saw someone put it today, gives my internet friend a boost of serotonin.

the thing is, a lot of these people who are against "likescolding" seem to have this idea that they're fighting against the all-terrible algorithm, and what they're forgetting is that in the process, they're hurting the very real people on the other side of the computer screen. going back to the serotonin argument, yeah, i do get a boost of serotonin from receiving a like, or i did back when i was still bothering to post here. so it would follow, therefore, that i get more serotonin from more likes. but in order to get more, someone is going to have to suck it up and reblog the post so that other people can see it, because my reach on its own only goes so far. if the entire argument rests on giving me serotonin, then shouldn't a reblog give me serotonin as well? why are likes the only form of acceptable serotonin givers?

which leads me into my next point, that by demanding reblogs, i'm supposedly just a greedy numbers counter who can't be satisfied with what i have. and frankly, at this point, after watching this argument go round and round in circles for literal years, i don't think that anything i say is going to change anyone's minds. the people who say i should be satisfied with likes are going to say that i'm greedy and want more attention no matter what argument i present. it doesn't seem to matter to them that i have activity muted on tumblr and statistics muted on ao3 and therefore can't even see the numbers. but i'm hopeful that some of the newer people on this site will see this and understand why i'm arguing for the value of reblogging, so i'm going to say it anyway.

let me paint a picture for you: i joined my current fandom on tumblr almost exactly five years ago. the biggest movie to date had just been released, the fandom was thriving, and i vividly remember seeing artwork after fanfic after gifset on my dash. if i tried to scroll back through my dash in the morning to where i'd left off the previous night, it would take me hours because so many fanworks were being created and posted and shared while i was asleep. the very first fanfic i posted to tumblr for this fandom got more than a thousand notes literally overnight. i'd only been a part of the fandom for a few months at that point and had very few fandom followers, but the field was more than welcoming to a new writer.

but then the landscape changed.

within two years, i'd started to notice a drop in reblogs. i can't tell you for certain what the reason was. maybe it was covid fatigue, maybe it was purity and anti-culture being driven to an all-time fever pitch, maybe it was that people were leaving my fandom, once one of the biggest on the site, for other, more diverse media. i really can't tell you what the reason was, but as the reblogs started to drop, fan creators started begging. and as the creators begged, i suddenly started seeing these posts circulating about how creators should be grateful for the likes and lurkers, and asking for anything more was just being greedy.

slowly, the number of fanworks on my dash started to drop. the fanfics went first. for whatever reason, maybe because reading a fic is more time-consuming, people were particularly hateful towards fanwriters wanting more reblogs. writers tried various tricks, writing shorter fics, putting things under read mores, posting in the form of bulleted headcanons, but nothing really worked. and so they stopped posting. and then they left tumblr altogether. i see a lot of them on discord, and occasionally, twitter now, but i don't see them on tumblr.

the art was next. see, a lot of the artists in my fandom make money off their art, which meant they relied on those reblogs as a way to get their name out there. and if those reblogs aren't happening, and if people are deriding commissions because they think fanworks should be free and available to everyone, then no one is seeing their commission posts. and if the site is already hostile to artists, which it has been since the tumblr purge of 2018, then why are they still on this site when they can be on twitter and instagram?

now i'm watching it happen again with gifmakers. that old resentment is building back up, this time around reposting gifsets and claiming them as their own creation. people claim to be unable to make cool gifsets so they have to steal them, and in the process, other people stop reblogging the original gifmaker. as of writing this, i haven't seen us reach the point where the gifmakers start to leave, but i'm betting it'll happen soon.

you know how many new fics i've seen this last week on my dash? three.

you know how many new artworks? eight.

you know how many shitposts i've seen? political posts? posts lamenting the deaths of whatever current fandom op is in? too many to count.

i'm one of the people who doesn't post my fics on tumblr anymore. i don't see the point. i'll get a much bigger reception talking about them on twitter. and i feel bad for all the newcomers arriving here because their dashes are going to be full of shitposts and politics and misinformation and reposts from tiktok where they once would have been full of stories and art.

but i wonder. if people keep on this reblogging hate train, will we lose the shitposts and politics and reposts from tiktok too? you're not obligated to reblog everything, i'm not even saying that you're obligated to reblog anything, but if we keep going the way we're going, if more and more people drop a like and keep scrolling, will we soon reach a point where there's nothing on our dashboards at all?

fandom is a community, and i think that that's something that people tend to forget. creators create for themselves, but they share for everyone else. i see a lot of posts talking about how creators will stop sharing if all they receive is silence, but most of those are old posts that miss that creators have already received silence. they've already stopped sharing. they've already left.

the thing is, before i gave up on posting to this site, i used to remind myself that if ten people were sitting in my apartment, listening to me read my fics, i would think that's a lot of people and be very honored in the hopes that it would make me feel less sad about the fact that in just a few years, people stopped reading what i wrote. and it isn't that it's wrong, but five years ago, even as a new writer, i was reading my fics to packed auditoriums with standing room only.

and there's a big difference between speaking to an auditorium and speaking to my living room.

no one is obligated to reblog. no one is owed a reblog. and likes do actually do something. but sharing does something too, and it doesn't hurt anyone to reblog it. truth be told, i think we're already past the point of no return; i don't think we'll ever see the creators who've already left come back. but that doesn't mean we can't make this a welcoming space for new creators or that we have to make them feel bad for wishing that more people would share their fanworks. i see a lot of those posts railing against likescolding talking about how it's not okay that likescolding makes them feel bad, so i guess my question to those posters is this:

why is it okay to make the creators feel bad instead?

#tumblr #fandom #probably shooting at a hornet's nest here but whatever #it's not like anyone is reading what i write anyway so what does it matter

[rose-riot-johnson]

Hello my Tumblr Peeps😀 I finally decided to write about a female Jujutsu Kaisen character and the female Jujutsu Kaisen character I will be writing about is non other than, Maki Zenin😁👍Believe it or not, a couple years ago, one of the first chapters of the Jujutsu Kaisen I recall ever reading was involved Maki. I won't spoil, too much during this intro, however this doesn't mean the fanfic itself will be spoiler free...🤔 The thing is that the first chapter of the Jujutsu Kaisen manga I recall reading isn't the type of spoiler that will be put in this fanfic that I will be writing. It's about a particular event that I recently found out about that happened before the first Jujutsu Kaisen chapter I recalled reading.

*Note: there will be plenty of possible over usage of the words, "One eyed bastard" in this fanfic😅And this fanfic contains 1 or more paragraphs😅

Fear That Fueled Into Anger ((Adult) Maki Zenin x Any Gender Reader)

Genres: Angst, Adventure, and Vengeance (Warning⚠️: Violence, Mentions of family being murdered in the past, Manga spoilers (pertaining Maki during the Shibuya Incident), Language, and Murder)

When you first met Maki Zenin, you and Maki were both the first years of Jujutsu High. Months passed by, both you and Maki became best friends. You became very excited after both you and Maki became a couple of the second years of Jujutsu High.

When you found out about the going to Shibuya for your mission and realize that you got to work with Maki for that mission in Shibuya, you were excited and looking forward to working with Maki on your mission in Shibuya. You're just happy to go on a mission, especially with Maki, to show off what you are capable of with your cursed technique. However what you didn't know was what and/or who could and would await during your mission in Shibuya, during the "Shibuya Incident".

After Maki's group (which you're in) defeated a cursed spirit named Dagon, in Maki's group's battle against him, a one eyed special grade cursed spirit named, Jogo then decided to ambush the group you're in (Maki's group), especially by using his cursed technique to burn Maki, right in front of you. You then, looked at Jogo in alot of anger. Jogo ended up getting alot of enjoyment on his face, as he snickered.

Jogo then, started taunting as he said, "You look quite familiar... I can't put my finger on it... Oh yeah! Are you the same person I met before? I mean, if I'm not mistaken, there was this child whose family I burnt up, years ago...", as he then smirked at your expense. You then replied, "Shut up you one eyed, bastard! I hate you, for what you did!". Jogo continued to taunt at your expense, as he said, "Did what? And to who exactly? To this human I burnt just now? Or the family I burnt, when you were a child? Or maybe both? I can't help that you hid from me after I burnt your family to their death. I mean... I can't blame you for being a coward and hide from me, while you tremble in fear after I killed your family! Are you going to hide from me, too or are you going to fight me to prove you're not a coward like you were when you were a little kid?!", giving you an evil smile, then proceeded to laugh. You decided to attempt to use your cursed technique to attack Jogo with, as he then got out of the way, as he said, "I'm so disappointed that this is all you can try to hit me with. Maybe next time we should try fighting again. You're just too pitiful.", then used his cursed technique to attempt to burn you with. You dodged his attack, before realizing he made his escape out of Shibuya. Eversince after the Shibuya Incident, Jogo is still at large and hasn't been found.

Years after the Shibuya Incident, enough as it is, you couldn't get over the fact Jogo burnt your family when you were a little child, however to make matters, much worse, when you and Maki were in the same group together for the mission in Shibuya, he just randomly decided to burn Maki right in front of you, during the Shibuya Incident. Luckily, Maki is still alive, however you just feel that if you his face again, you will sure kill him, since you have been training alot, especially with your cursed technique and even finally managed to use your Domain Expansion on a random cursed spirit.

Due to you being able use your finally, you know for sure you will be able to get revenge on, Jogo. It's not just due to the fact that he burned Maki, during the Shibuya Incident, even tough it made matters worse, when it comes to you wanting vengeance. You also want revenge on him, because of him burning your family when you were a little child.

One day, Maki went to your house to visit you to see how you're doing. Meanwhile, you getting dressed, as you're getting ready to finally get vengeance against Jogo. Maki was at the front door of you home, as you were almost ready to leave. Then before she could knock on the door you opened the door to only realize she was already here. While you're surprised and happy to see Maki, so you decided to let her in your house.

After you letted Maki on your house, so she can visit you, you took her favorite soda out of the fridge to serve the soda to her. You pretty much bought her favorite soda, a week before this, just incase if Maki does visit your place, considering that she has visited your place multiple times.

After Maki started drinking her soda, she said, "So, (Any Gender Reader Name). I have a question. Why were you planning on leaving your place? You need to go for a walk or do you have plans on buying anything, at all? Just curious.". You pretty knew you have no intentions on lying to Maki, especially about your plans. Even, if you did, you know full well in this case that lying would only make things worse.

You explained to Maki, "Well, Maki... It's not simple... I think it's time to tell the truth... I'm not sure, if you heard that one eyed bastard, bragged about using his cursed technique to burn you during the Shibuya Incident and also used his cursed technique to burn my family up... It's true that I hid from him after he burnt my family up, when I was little... I just didn't know what else to do... I ran away to find another place to live, even if it meant going homeless, just to get away from the one eyed bastard... Then when I turned ten years old my fear of him, actually turned into hate... I'm not sure if any part of this is the right reason at all... It's just that, this whole thing is the reason why I wanted to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer...". Maki was surprised to hear your reason why you wanted to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, however she continued to listen, because she wanted to know, what it has to do with you where you are going. You continued, "When we went on our mission to Shibuya, in the same group during the Shibuya Incident, after we won our battle against another cursed spirit, that one eyed bastard, then decided to ambush our group, especially by burning you right in front of me. Those flames looked, so familiar and when I saw his face, I knew he was that same bastard who killed my family when I was little. After he burnt you right in front of me and remembering who he was, this made me hate his guts more. After he taunted me, I tried to fight him with my cursed technique, then I missed before he taunted me more. He then tried burning me, as he managed to escape from Shibuya. Ofcourse he missed. I got out of the way, obviously. Anyways, after he killed my family when I was little and he tried to kill you years ago in Shibuya, while he stayed at large and hidden, I have been plotting to get vengeance on that one eyed bastard. I have been training my cursed technique and used my domain expansion on some cursed spirits for my missions, in order to improve. I'm now considered, as a special grade jujutsu sorcerer. I will definitely know for sure... That I will end that one eyed bastard once and for all!".

After you finished telling Maki the truth, she offered to go with you, to hunt down Jogo, however you declined, as you said, "No Maki... I wish to take you with me... I just can't... You're lucky to be alive, Maki... I can't take anymore risks of you getting killed, because of me... I have to be the one to kill him myself... I can't afford to risk losing you again... I'm sorry, Maki...", as you were walking outside of your house to leave on your own. Shortly after you left, Maki followed you, without you knowing, anyways.

You made it to Jogo's secret hideout, as you smirked and mumbled to yourself, "This must be the one eyed bastard's secret hiding place. I will surely have that fucker, trapped now.". You then went inside of his secret hideout. Without you knowing, Maki followed you right in his secret hideout.

Once you entered the main room of Jogo's secret hideout, Maki followed then luckily found an area, so she wouldn't get seen. You then shouted, "Okay, one eyed bastard! Come out! I know you're here, fucker! Show yourself, so I can get you killed off! I know you haven't moved to another hiding spot, like you did all those other times! Now we'll see who's the coward once I end you!". He then entered the main room of his secret hideout, showing you the most twisted smile he has ever made.

As you were battling Jogo, Maki was peaking to see about finding the right opportunity to help you, then the next thing that happened was right after you started using your domain expansion, he managed to hit you with the domain expansion, so perfectly and he was sure he was about to burn you. You then started to laugh at his expense. He was confused as he asked, "What's so funny? You're being burnt, now are you?". You then smirked at him as you replied, " Can't you see, fool?! You're going to regret burning me, as successfully damaging me, especially right after my domain expansion started, will definitely make me immortal and the more damage I take from attack like yours, the longer my immortality will last during my domain expansion, so you better hope not to die soon, fuck head!", as you hair started getting longer and changing colors (any hair color of reader's choice (can pick multiple hair colors, including for ombres)), as this was really starting to frighten Jogo. Maki was even shocked about how your domain expansion works.

Jogo then began to try make his escape, as he stopped attacking you, then proceeding to run away. You then took out your sword and managed to cut him to pieces, before he could even manage to escape. You then realized that you have finally succeeded at your revenge as you turned back to your normal self, as you said, "Now who's the coward, one eyed bastard!", before looking at the area, Maki was hiding in to see her there, ehich was the last thing before you passed out.

The next thing that happened was you found yourself in a hospital and you noticed Maki visiting you there. You then had to explain that eversince the first time you managed to used your domain expansion, you felt that you had keep your domain expansion a secret until you battle against Jogo and that you were surprised to see here there. Maki explained that she wanted to makesure you're safe and to see if you do end up needing help from her during your battle against Jogo. She also mentioned she's glad that she did follow you to Jogo's secret hideout when she did, because she felt you needed to be carried the moment she saw you pass out after your victory against him.

After you got discharged from the hospital, both you and Maki started your relationship together, from there. It's plain and simple... Eversince you killed Jogo, you felt relieved... You know it wouldn't bring you family back... However the most important thing to you is that Maki is okay and alive, while successfully getting revenge on your arch enemy, Jogo. You just felt that now all of the weight is off your shoulders for the success you had on your revenge. Life became better for both you and Maki, eversince the aftermath of your victory.

The End

I hope you had fun reading this fanfic with Maki in it😁👍I honestly feel that she's one of the characters I can bond with very well😃👍It did took me a while to complete this fanfic, however I did enjoy working on this particular fanfic, not just because i written about her, however it's also because of the imagination I have in my head that I've down for this fanfic🙂👍Yes, I did end up having tons of fanfics in the works (which some fanfics in the works I've completed, before this fanfic, while other fanfics I haven't completed quite yet....), however this fanfic is now completed😁👍I hope you had fun reading this fanfic with Maki in it, just as much as I had fun writing it, my Tumblr Peeps🦋😁👍

#adventure #jujutsu kaisen #angst #maki zenin #zen'in maki #maki #maki angst #Maki Zenin angst #vengeance #maki x you #maki x reader #maki x y/n #maki zenin x you #maki zenin x reader #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers

[rollercoasterwords]

genuinely thank you so much for writing thtf. it's my favourite thing to read in the whole world for so many reasons. like other than where it's obviously devastating (in SUCH a good way), idk it just makes me so happy

I think it's the first wip i followed from start to finish and I have to say that part of 2022 was not the greatest but yk, every few days there'd be a new chapter. and it was great.

I fucking love Dorcas talking about "a butterfly in the palm of your hand" it's changed the way I think so much. like you would not expect this from a fanfic lmao but it's pretty much exactly what I needed to hear at the time. living just to live, even if it's complete shit, not caring about what they're leaving behind. ch 42 (i think) where all they're doing is just washing the dishes but it's so special and they're listening to dawn storm is so important to me I love it SO much. fucking amazing.

ngl I don't really think there's anything I don't like. every character feels so right - regulus in particular sticks out to me, like there's such a good balance between him doing pretty bad things because he's not a particularly "good person" but also not being a complete dick. also I would die for marlene mckinnon and the way you write her is just so fucking good. the way she is just so alive to make up for her shorter life is so beautiful to me. I could ramble on for a very long time about everything in this fic but I dont want this to get too long lol

the music you put on the chapters is also really good like I'm pretty sure the first time I read it I didn't listen the music and then I reread it with the music and it was like a whole different experience

yeah i would've sent this earlier (like maybe a year ago) but looks like I put it off for a really long time lol

also - really love where atwmd is going rn I'm so excited for more chapters, i love Sirius Black etc etc

ahh thank u this is so sweet! i love hearing that thtf resonated w people it definitely feels like the fic kinda took on its own life & became a little philosophical journey that i was not entirely expecting lol. i think writing a story where i knew my main characters were going 2 die the whole time really made me contemplate like. ok what do i actually want 2 say abt death, and by way of that what do i wanna say abt life? bc like. as someone who doesn't believe in an afterlife i didn't wanna write a story that says "well it's ok bc they can be happy in the afterlife" <3 bc like. that does not comfort me lol. & i also didn't wanna write a story that was like "it's ok bc there's gonna be a good future 4 others after them," bc i think life means something and matters even outside of futurity. i didn't wanna play into this narrative that u have 2 Do Something 2 make ur life meaningful by making sure u have an impact on the future, etc; i wanted 2 write abt life as meaningful outside of that. & i also specifically wanted 2 write abt life as something beautiful & meaningful even with the bad stuff mixed in, and even if death is abrupt and scary and painful and unwanted. like i purposely made both their deaths pretty brutal bc i personally find the idea of a "bad death" really scary! the idea of dying before ur ready, dying scared or alone or in pain or all three, etc...and i think part of why that's so scary is bc we place this big emphasis, again, on a linear timeline of life, where death is The End, and if The End is bad, then the story's a sad one. but death is just one moment in the sum total of billions of moments throughout your life; why should that bad cancel out all the good? why should a story be sad, just because the last page of it is sad? you can open the book to any page and find happiness, and love, and warmth, etc. & that's what i'm trying 2 say w "a story is not its end."

anyway. this got much longer than expected lol i love 2 ramble abt thtf but! again ty 4 the kind words glad u enjoyed the fic glad u enjoyed the music as well!! i love the playlist 4 that fic <3

#ask #thtf #wfrau #<- glad ur enjoying this one as well! <3

[this-is-z-art-blog]

Hi, I saw your answer to someone asking about what a Hannuka celebration is usually like and I thought it was really well thought-out and helpful. I was wondering if you might be willing to give me some insight on other Jewish holidays. This was actually inspired by the DP Hannuka challenge. I'm writing a long DP fanfic that's largely from Sam's perspective and when I saw the challenge I thought this was a great time to write some holiday scenes. But when I started researching Hannuka I read that it's not really a major holiday I wanted to know which holidays hold more significant meaning and...well, I went down a rabbit hole and I feel like I HAVE to make sure I do Sam's cultural heritage justice.

The part I'm writing right now takes place in autumn. I wanted to include a little bit about her family celebrating/participating in Rosh Hashana and the ten days of awe. The thing is, I have absolutely no frame of reference; I hadn't even heard of it until a few days ago. Its surprisingly difficult to find descriptions of what exactly people do to observe that holiday besides food. There's plenty to read about the food haha.

I was wondering if you might be willing to share with me your experience with autumn traditions. Your description of Hannuka was so helpful and you seemed open to more questions. But if you're not comfortable please don't feel any pressure, my goal here is to be respectful and I honestly don't know enough about Jewish Culture to know if I'm being rude so please tell me if I am. I live in a predominantly Christian area and the majority of my cultural knowledge on the subject comes from TV which tends to only bring up Judaism when a character talks about Hannuka instead of Christmas so I am basically an uncultured goldfish.

First of all, thank you, and thank you for reaching out. I love talking about this stuff in general, and I especially really enjoy helping people navigate representing characters' Judaism in their works. I know it can be really intimidating to do research on your own- you don't know what questions to ask, or what's a reliable source, or what's unilaterally true vs what varies community to community, and you want to do a good job and not perpetuate something hurtful or harmful- it's a lot! So while I want to be clear I'm just one person speaking from my personal experience and knowledge, Jews are not a monolith and Jewish thought and experience varies a lot, you can always reach out and I'll do my best to help.

Note, the Jewish calendar is lunar, which is about ten days shorter than the solar year, which is why Jewish holidays don't have the same Gregorian date year to year. Every three years (roughly) we have a whole extra 'leap month' to keep the seasons on track, because certain holidays have to be in certain seasons (most notably Passover). Jewish days also begin at sundown and end at about an hour past ('three stars in the sky') the next day, ie Shabbat is Friday evening to Saturday night each week. The high holidays are in the fall, generally, but to know when specifically something is myjewishlearning or chabad are websites you can look up 'what date is [holiday] + [year]'

Rosh Hashanah (literally translated 'head of the year'), New Year's (one of four actually). Kicks off the high holidays, both very joyous and very reflective. Apples and honey is the classic holiday treat, for a sweet new year. Challah for this holiday is often made in a circular shape, for the cycle of the year, rather than the normal Shabbat braided loaves, and sometimes people will make it with cinnamon sugar or raisins for sweetness. You also begin reaching out to make amends to people you may have hurt over the past year, a process that continues throughout the high holidays. A big theme of the high holidays is Teshuva, which is sometimes translated as repentance but is more closely 'return'. It's about making sincere apologies and doing the work to get better and avoid repeating the same kinds of harm. I once texted a non-Jewish friend of mine an apology for a previous fight of ours around this time that for her came kind of out of nowhere, which made her think I was dying. People often have a family meal together. Fun fact, the current Jewish year is 5784. Two days long kinda. Holy

The ten days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, as you flagged, the Days of Awe or Days of Return (or in Hebrew they're the aseret yamei teshuva) are more on this theme of reflection and amends. Many participate sometime in here in a practice called tashlich, where you symbolically release bread crumbs (or some other crumpled foodstuff that may be more suited to your local aquatic life) into the water (typically a river, but sometimes your local Water is a lake or ocean) as a way to release your guilt and regrets and move forward into the new year knowing you've done all you can and you now have a clean slate

Yom Kippur ('day of atonement'), holiest day of the Jewish calendar. One of two major fasts (full day, rather than dawn to dusk). Very thoughtful and contemplative, typically a full day of synagogue services reflecting. We spend most of the day thinking about death. For many communities it's traditional to wear white or to avoid gold. You think about your wrongdoings and how to improve in the coming year, and deeply consider whether you've made your amends and if you've sincerely put in the work to change and improve where you need it.

Sukkot! Rounds off the high holidays, eight day festival that starts five days after Yom Kippur. You build a small structure called a sukkah (you BET there are a hundred specific details) in your yard and take meals in it together, big holiday for guests and visiting. First two and last two days are holy, middle four are still part of the holiday but are more mundane, and you go about your regular life (ie you can use electronics and go to work). Many observe the daily mitzvot of eating something in the sukkah, and shaking the lulav and etrog (a gathering of four plants, the lulav (palm frond), myrtle branch, willow branch are bundled together and the etrog (citron) in your other hand, symbolizes gathering in all the different kinds of our people). At the last days of Sukkot is the holiday Simchat Torah ('the joy of the torah'), where we reach the end of the annual cycle of reading the Torah and begin it anew. VERY joyous and boisterous, big holiday for dancing.

Also, here's an extremely quick and dirty rundown of other the other more prominent Jewish holidays (I'm basically skipping a number of minor fasts and smaller celebrations, but also, hannukkah is on this list, and it is nowhere near the scale of importance as Rosh Hashaha).

Hannukkah. Eight day festival in the winter, lighting a nine branched menorah (the ninth candle lights the others, one more each night ie night one you light one night eight you light eight, once again a THOUSAND little laws and specifics. we are a pedantic people). You have heard of this one

Tu B'Shevat! Late winter/early spring holiday that is the new year for trees. (The name is just the date, the 15th of the month Shevat. Most though not all Jewish holidays are on the 1st or 15th of the month, or, the new or full moon). Big holiday for planting trees or trying new fruits

Purim! Early spring. In a leap year this happens twice (though 'little Purim' is a much smaller holiday). This one is bonkers and criminally underrated. Costumes, giving gifts both to charity and to your friends and family, telling the story of that time a guy tried to kill us all and failed so hard we eat cookies shaped like his stupid hat to this day (hamantaschen or oznei haman, it's just the Yiddish or Hebrew name for them respectively)

Pesach or Passover, you have probably heard of this one. Springtime! Can't eat leavened grains (wheat, spelt, barley, oats, rye) so you gotta clean ALL your stuff out. Most Orthodox Ashkenazim also don't eat 'kitniyot', basically, similar food categories that include nuts, beans, corn, and rice, so if that's your tradition it's pretty thorough. First two nights are the Seder, a large, meandering meal where we tell the story of the holiday (in my family we regularly sit down around seven, don't get to the 'eat the Meal' part until nine, and are at the table til midnight. Many families are a little more effecient but many are even less). First two and last two days are holy, first two days especially are a big time for visiting family

The seven weeks from Passover to Shavuot are a period of time called the Omer, mostly just focused on counting up (not down) the days to Shavout. On the 36th day, Lag B'Omer (name is once again just the day) it's a holiday celebrated largely with bonfire parties

Shavuot (name just means 'weeks', for the seven weeks we count to get here) is the holiday that celebrates receiving the Torah. Celebrated with study of Torah and many have a custom to eat dairy (or just not meat), holy, two days-ish

Tisha B'av is a day of mourning, and the other major fast. Commemorates a lot of various tragedies and traumas. The weeks leading up to it go through a few stages of mourning and mourning practices

Elul is the full month leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and is something of a 'ramp up' to the attitudes and festivities, where you start thinking about your past and coming year

Shabbat. As mentioned this one is every week, holy day of rest from sundown Friday to a little later Saturday. Many celebrate by going to synagogue and/or holding a meal together Friday night and/or Saturday afternoon

Miscellaneous note, safety always comes first. If there is an emergency that would require you to break a rule of the holiday, do it. The principle is called pikuach nefesh, or protection of the soul (life)

Holy days are traditionally (though not everyone observes in this way and specifics vary, it is none of my business, repsonsibility, or interest to tell other Jewish folks what to do) observed by a number of restricitons that I like the categorize as just being part of the world, not trying to create or destory anything within it. The specifics have a lot to do with laws tracing back to not participating in argricultural or textile labor, but most relevant to my life personally is not turning on or off electronics (or fire), and no writing/drawing/fabric crafts.

Again NOT every Jew does full traditional observances of every holiday and that a) is NONE of my or anyone's business b) does not somehow make them 'less' Jewish. Judaism belongs to every Jew and is theirs to decide what to do with. That said, it is a chip on my shoulder when the only Jewish characters I see depicted in media, overwhelmingly written by gentile creators, go over the top to stress how much they hate following Jewish law or how much they love not doing it; feels like people are only interested in having Jewish characters whose Judaism is either a total joke, or it has to be as unobtrusive as possible- which is another reason I try to make myself available to answer questions you might have about how TO include your characters' Judaism

#if you want to know something more specific like 'what are things you have done on x day' or 'hey im writing this scene and stuck on y #detail' or 'hey is this a Problem im worried it touches on z harmful trope' i am always open #feel free to shoot me a dm if thats easier btw #sam manson #not art #z.answer #suddenravingfan #jewish characters

[brazilian-whalien52]

PatPran Fanfic Rec!

So I have been reading fanfics of my boys and wanted to sharedsome titles

* Pinocchio by aworkingprinter

It had been a long time since he was a scared twelve-year-old, terrified that his Pinocchio syndrome would leak his thoughts to the outside, that he could keep no secrets. He was sixteen now, and he was made of secrets, and he could keep them safe.

Or so he thought.

Pran is born with a disease that makes him hiccup every time he lies.

* An Eon and Six Days by Hazzapixie

- Part 1 of the On My Skin, In My Heart Series

"Pran is six days older than Pat. It has forever been something of a pain in Pat’s side, knowing that his biggest rival is older than him. 144 hours. 8640 minutes. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime.

Six days. Not a lot, but enough that he will turn twenty six days before Pat. Which means that Pran will know his soulmate six days before Pat. Hence, the month before Pran turns twenty, Pat is having a minor breakdown.

Pat had grown up with two ideas swinging in tandem. There is someone out there for him to love, and to hate."

Or the soulmate au that desperatly needed to be written.

* You can hear it in the silence by threewontons

Pran takes a deep breath and opens his Spotify, going to the playlist titled “❤️” that’s been waiting for him since he created it four years ago. There’s only one song on the playlist, saved precisely for this moment. Ever since he first heard it he knew that he wanted it to be how he introduced himself to his soulmate.

Before he presses play, he freezes, a melody starting to form in his head. It’s almost as if the volume is being turned up, louder and louder and…

It’s Baby Shark.

His soulmate is listening to Baby Shark.

(or an au where you hear whatever song your soulmate is listening to <3)

* The Hardest Thing I Had To Do Is Not Kiss You by Ablazen

Pran's friends organize a kissing booth. It goes just about as well as you'd expect.

* Up the Ante by Incandescentflower

“You’re so cocky. You are just asking to lose this thing.” Pran put his hands on the wall on each side of Pat’s head and leaned forward, whispering, “If I put my lips on yours again, this would be over.”

Pat’s pulse raced, but still somehow he knew exactly how to respond. The exact thing to get what he wanted. “You’re making excuses. if you kissed me again, you couldn’t stop yourself from confessing.”

“Oh, is that so?” Pran asked. “Then I guess we should find out.”

* The Fine Line Between Hormones and Home by seekingmoonscapes

Pat didn’t care what anyone had to say about the miracle of life and the wondrousness of nature and the celebration of creation; being in heat was just fucking annoying.

---

AU set between episode 2 and 3: Pran comes home from university to visit his parents one weekend only to discover Pat is also at home but for a very different reason...

* Alpha x Alpha the series by JustImproving

Alpha Pran and Alpha Pat

#patpran #fanfic rec #bad buddy #anyway i am not a fan of A/B/O dynamics but something about pat smell ability just matches it #plus i think their dynamics is really connected to the fact they are equals #so this challenges people to do a more balenced relationship inside this prompt #and this two are goods #anyway #sucker for soulmates au and their story matches soulmates so much 🥺 #i may add other ones if i remember any titles or if i keep reading

[romanceandshenanigans]

Writer Q&A Game

Thanks to @clairelsonao3 for tagging me!

1. What motivates you to write?

I'm not exactly sure tbh. It almost feels like a compulsion. There are days where I simply do not feel good in my body if I haven't written anything. Then there are others where I can't bring myself to write because I'm too tired or too distracted from life. Honestly the second I get a clear head and enough time to myself, I'll start writing.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

This isn't from my WIP, but from a fanfic I wrote a while ago. I want to try to find a way to incorporate it into something. Not sure where though.

“I know this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere,” he said, “but promise it’s not. I’ve had a long time to think about it.  A few years, actually. I guess, I just didn’t realize how deep I was in it until about five minutes ago.”

She kept silent, but the simple fact she hadn’t told him to get out gave him the confidence to keep going. . 

“I meant it when I said I’m crazy about you. I like that you take your sugar with a drop of coffee.  I like how you sing to yourself when you’re happy.  I like that you never seem to get cold.  I like that you never lose your head under fire, but still need me to get rid of spiders. I like that you can laugh at yourself.  I like that you can laugh at me. Hell, I like that you’re perfectly willing to slap my face if the situation calls for it.

I like so many things about you Liz, and that’s just the stuff I found out on accident.  I can only imagine the stuff I’d learn if I started loving you on purpose."

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I really do enjoy writing Finn. The boy just makes my smile.

Close second is another OC which I wrote for fanfic who I want to save and put someplace else, Lucy. She's my softest girl who has a lot of love to give. Might figure out a way to put her in this regency setting somewhere, but who knows.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

The first draft spree. The moment when you get an idea and you have write it down as quickly as possible. It's rough and definitely will need some editing, but that rush cannot be topped. It just feels satisfying to exorcise even the smallest of scenes out of my body.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Dialogue, hands down. It's at least the part I've gotten the most compliments on.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I've only just started to dip my toe in, but I really do love answering asks. I like seeing other writer's process and knowing I'm not alone. It's just fun!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I've been using Scrivener and it's really helped me keep everything organized. I have a very conspiracy board way of drafting, so having all my random snippets in one place really helps.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

Not sure world building is my strong suit for this current WIP. I suppose I'm enjoying expanding the world of the theatre, but I admittedly need to do more research.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Write anyway. It doesn't have to be the scene that's giving you trouble. It doesn't even have to be for the piece you're trying to focus on, just don't get out of the habit of writing. Once you lose that momentum, it takes a long time to get it back.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

Gotta give a shout out to @clairelsonao3 for being so welcoming in my introduction to the writeblr community. And @janec23, for being one of the few specifically romance writers to reach out.

But I really can't begin to thank all the people who have followed me from my fanfic blog over to this one. It really means so much to know people are interested in reading anything I put out there.

@flapjacques, @jo-harrington, @can-of-pringles, @handahbear, @auroramagpie, @justanothersadperson93, @sad-cat-hours, @ghostface001, @theowlwhocameback, @mattmurdocksscars, @roruna, @everything-intertwined, @sweetjedi, @arcanerazil, @vibratingbonesbis, @delirious0pandemonium, @llovelykenobi, @geek-girl7, @mixedupanddown

Know that I love and appreciate you all.

I'm also going to leave this an OPEN tag to anyone who wants to do this, and especially invite everyone who I have tagged above. (and

#tag game #writeblr #wip: untitled regency romance #writeblr asks #about the author #writeblr tag game

[runawayprincesslily]

Summary: Your best friend returns after a long time and maybe the time you have been away made you realise a few things about your feelings towards him. Did it do the same for him?

Warnings: My first fanfic, NOT A BOOK READER, so events and misinformation could be a lot, Swearing

Pairings – Grover Underwood x reader, Annabeth x platonic!reader, Percy Jackson x platonic!reader

PART 1

“Did you know there’s a new kid in the camp? He killed a minotaur!” You heard a group of half-bloods loudly discuss this interesting news, way too loudly.

“Wait, is it- does he have a-” I looked at Annabeth hoping it was the kid who Grover went to protect. I haven’t spoken to Grover since he left, which was a few years ago. We both became close after Thalia, Luke, and Annabeth joined the camp. He told me about everything, he knew a lot. Listening to him talk about Pan and everything nature was my favorite activity to do. He would tell me about different creatures. He would tell me about herbs and their medicinal properties. Flowers and their meanings. Gods. And him. The last one was my favorite.

“yes he has a satyr protector, yes its Grover”

“Oh.” Grover. I had been waiting for him for so long, and now that I knew he was here I didn’t know what to do. What to say to him?

“are you not going to meet him? I thought you leave as soon as I said yes”

I laughed “I do want to meet him but he is probably tired, also he probably is going to show Percy around first”

“Percy?”

“it’s the new kid, Grover told me his name before he left.”

“Ah of course he did.”

“Do you think it could be him? I’ve seen you watching him.”

“Maybe.” Her gaze shifted to a boy standing near Chiron and Mr. D. I saw Grover run behind him. Grover. It was a little daunting to see him after this time. Like watching a movie, you loved as a kid, and were desperately hoping it was as good as it was before.

“You want to go to the woods? Or stalk him a little more?” Annabeth gave a death stare that shut me up. She was like a little sister to me. A dangerous one though.

I walked alone to the woods. There was a little canopy made by a few oak trees which I loved to sit beside. Grover helped me carve it to perfection and since his departure, it has been a space where I could feel at peace. Grover and I have been best friends, but it has almost felt like a breakup since he left. I’ve had my friends move away while I lived in the mortal world, and never see them again. This feels exactly like that. I just don’t want to feel like we are strangers, maybe this is why I’m running for him.

The bright sunlight peeks through the trees, and the wind rustles the leaves. It was a beautiful sight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath soaking all of this in.

"Hey"

I didn't need to open my eyes to know who it was, I remember his voice well enough. "Grover. Hi."

"You still come here?" He sat down beside me.

"Of course I do, it's still my favorite place. People are so awfully loud in the camp." I looked at him, and I finally completed processing he was safe. For years I was worried something might happen to him.

"Percy killed a Minotaur."

"What?" I knew it. But I'd rather hear him tell me the whole story

"Yeah! he- I he killed a Minotaur. He lost his sword too mid-fight and he jumped on his back. Pulled off a horn on its head. I'm not even joking. I know this sounds like I'm making it up. The Ares Cabin does not believe he killed a Minotaur. Imagine telling them this story. Yeah, so he pulled off a horn, stabbed the monster, and killed it. Before that, he killed a Fury too. Like, this kid killed a Fury and a Minotaur in less than 24 hours." His eyes sparkled like they always did when he started rambling about something he enjoyed.

"Oh God, maybe this is the kid Annabeth has been waiting for. Did you keep the horn?"

"Of course I did, this doesn't happen very often now does it."

"No of course not which is why the whole camp found out about it two hours after you arrived."

"You knew about it?"

"That the kid killed a minotaur? yes, that he jumped on the monster's back and pulled off a horn and stabbed it to kill it? no"

We both looked at each other, Grover kept silent like he was hesitating to tell me something. "Tell me, Grover."

"What?"

"Whatever it is that you are thinking about."

"It's kind of deep and sad."

"Yeah, and I can only deal with rainbows and sunshine."

"Okay! So his mom, Minotaur got a hold of her and she disintegrated. You know, kind of like Furies do when they die. In no sense am I saying I have watched a mortal be killed by a Minotaur before? But it didn't seem....right. So I was thinking about it and maybe...."

"Hades."

"Yeah."

"Yeah you could be right, but it's a maybe. Just be careful whatever you do with this information." I looked at him, and I realized this was probably the first time I had looked at him since I realized I had fallen in love with him. "So you're not showing the kid around, that's like your favorite part."

"He doesn't want to see me."

"What? How's that possible, everyone loves you."

He laughed "I had to get him kicked out of the school, then his mom died cause i was getting him across."

"It was not your fault, and he will come around. If he doesn't then he is stupid."

He nodded "So what's up at camp. How's Annabeth? Luke?"

"Camp is the same, everyone's favorite part of the day is when Mr. D yells at someone. Chaos is everything. Annabeth is still on the watch for the kid that will go on the quest, which right now appears to be Percy. And Luke. Well, he found his glory, the best swordsman in camp."

"And you?"

"Me? I am spending my time switching between hobbies and talking to Annabeth. My uh siblings? I guess were helpful-"

"Siblings? Did you get claimed?"

"Oh yeah you left before that, ta-da i got claimed."

"WHAT? Who? No i want to guess! Uh- Athena?"

"Nope"

"Aphrodite?"

"Nope"

"Dionysus?"

"That was ONCE. GROVER. ONCE. I got drunk once and you are going to hold it over my head for eternity."

"But you drank a lot, A LOT. It took almost twice the amount of wine to get you drunk than what I saw Clarisse drink."

"Ugh Grover please don't- anyway back to-"

"ARTEMIS?"

"You really should stop guessing, I got claimed by Apollo"

"Wow, that makes sense."

"Your guesses were nowhere near it."

"How did you get claimed? And when?"

"She actually got claimed right here." Annabeth threw her arms around Grover.

"What? Really?" He looked from Annabeth to me.

"Actually not exactly here, but nearby. She saw it."

"She actually ran away from this spot so no one finds out about her quiet place. Well I came way too late, I saw the blinding light for half a second but she looked like she was made of gold."

"What were you doing to get claimed?"

"Nothing," Annabeth replied hastily.

"Nothing what do you mean nothing?"

"It's what she always says, she doesn't know what made Apollo claim her."

I have a fair idea of what might have made Apollo claim me, but it's far too embarrassing to even say it aloud. It was just a few months after Grover had left, and his absence had made me realize quite a few things. I realized I had fallen for him, and that maybe I might never see him again. Those few weeks were really hard on me. And Annabeth at that time was using her time to become a skillful warrior. This made me take a few skills and one of them involved guitar. It was an instrument I learned before camp and felt safe to pick up again. I would come out here every day and play a few tunes and leave I was far too scared that the children of Apollo the God of Music and Poetry might see. I felt insecure because of their talents and was content being my own audience. That day I had started humming along to a tune, unlike other days where I would stick to songs I had learned. I began to sing whatever came to mind, and as cheesy as it may sound it was Grover. I liked what I wrote and felt proud of it so I continued. As I developed further into the song, I was interrupted by Apollo who had claimed me. I immediately feared this would lure people into this quiet safe place so I bolted. I ditched my guitar behind a tree and made a run for it. People luckily only saw me quite a few miles away from the canopy. But I'm not gonna admit this to anyone. Everyone still thinks I have no capability except humming to songs very very quietly.

#grover x you #grover x reader #grover imagines #grover underwood #aryan simhadri × reader #percy jackson