#I need to do sketchy stuff like this more often
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No leaving ever.
This game is an absolute gem and I wish I’d know about it sooner ♥
#ib#ib game#ib mary#ib remake#ib spoilers#I guess?#blaze draws#I need to finish the sketches I started of Garry one day#poor guy deserves better than this but I had to get Mary's unhinged smile out of my head#I need to do sketchy stuff like this more often#it's liberating
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Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers
There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.
How they begin
Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.
What to look out for:
Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.
Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know.
They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.
They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.
Where the scam actually happens
If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible.
Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.
A few things can happen here:
They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again.
They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.
The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions.
You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account.
Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.
You can find more info on that method HERE.
What to do when you encounter a scammer:
Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.
Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance.
Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.
Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info.
Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn.
Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it.
Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!
Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.
#art resources#artist help#artist advice#commission advice#scammers#instagram scam#please share with your fellow artists
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Astrology observations No.18 (18+ Only)
No minors! Adults only pls
Just based off my experiences, only take what resonates
-theory that Virgo/Scorpio/Capricorn mars are most likely to make you finish in a way you didn’t know you could before
-Capricorn mars need to take it slow during intimacy or at least at a pace they can control, sometimes they’ll get overwhelmed and erm.. lose focus if it’s not going at a pace they can control
-I feel like Capricorn/Libra Mars/Moon are most likely to try to f*ck the stress away
-Do not try to seduce a Libra/Taurus Mars with a dirty bedroom or when you’re smelling bad, Venusian Mars signs will get turned off by the unpleasantness
-Dont try to seduce a Virgo mars without having your shit together (this varies but don’t be a total mess —but do have a few problems lol it’s lowkey hard mode)
-Aries/Scorpio mars are most likely to f*ck someone they hate. (Scorpio could do this to get the upper hand)
-Leo Mars wants to be the most memorable partner you’ve ever had
-Cancer always gets t*tties as the thing they’re into but cancer and Taurus mars (and debatably Cancer and Taurus moon too) are usually drawn to more shapely/curvy people
-to get a Virgo mars to get into you’ve got to often have a quiet it factor, something understated that would get you positive attention -these dudes love a lady in the streets/a freak in the sheets imo (grain of salt bc most Virgo mars I’ve dated have had Leo placements lol)
-Gemini mars will come onto you with small talk and witty banter
-12th house synastry will have someone showing up in your dreams to seduce you (yeah I think this is so weird lol)
-8th house synastry will make you do bold and scandalous stuff but 7th house synastry gives wifey/boyfriend chemistry (sleeping together because they comforted you after a long day, someone knowing and embracing your k*nks, etc)
-Lilith synastry makes or breaks a sensual connection. I used to think it corrupted dudes but that was when I was too young to hold men accountable lol. It’s like if someone had any sketchy motives it shines a light on them.
-uranus overlays could point to someone wanting to try novel k*nks with you or flirting with you digitally (s*xting, n*des)
-mars square mars chemistry could lead to a very handsy, passionate, physical relationship. (Sudden quickies and that sort of thing)
-I only dated (in quotes) a few cancer mars, they were even more like “I want it more when I can’t have it” than some air mars I knew imo
-fire and water Lilith may have something similar about guys coming onto you when you’re angry/upset? (A guy tried to get me to come to his hotel room when I was lost and on my way to find family : 0 I was like ay yo wtf.)
#astro observations#astro notes#astro community#astroblr#astro placements#astrology#spicy astrology#mars astrology#Virgo mars#Taurus mars#Capricorn mars#cancer mars#Scorpio mars#Aries mars#Leo mars#Gemini mars#lilith astrology
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The Family Business Ch.2
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Ch Notes: No warnings for this chapter, Krolik=Bunny, Sestra=Sister
Summary: Wanda was sent away on important business, by the time she comes back you're all grown up and a part of the family company. Wanda doesn't come back home empty handed in fact she returns with a brand new wife.
An: Ok someone asked me for Ch.2 early and I had to deliver. Next Ch.3 will be up on Monday. Stay tuned and hope you enjoy.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
True to their word, the Maximoff’s provided you with a roof over your head and protection wherever you went. You never worried about your mother again and you saw your father whenever his schedule permitted. However, your primary residence was with the Maximoff’s. They were just as kind as they had always been.
Dragos and Flora paid for anything you could ever want or need. They paid for your tuition at NYU, though you tried to argue against it. You double majored in software engineering and physics. Without the constant insecurities that your parents piled on you, you were able to reach new academic heights.
Wanda had gone off right before her college graduation, Dragos said she was doing important work internationally. He didn’t know when she would be returning. There was a small part of you that hated that the woman didn’t come to your graduation, but a card from her in the mail was enough to make you smile.
Once you had your degrees you weighed your options. After multiple boring interviews and under stimulating work you finally asked Dragos if there was anything you could do in the family business. Pietro wasn’t thrilled about you wanting to be involved, but once he saw you at work, he knew you’d fit right in.
The crime was fronted by a legitimate business that Dragos owned. Which meant that you got to work out of one the tallest office buildings in New York. Your standing with the family also afforded you a desk pretty high up. When you weren’t hacking into competitors’ systems or running field operations, you did simple accounting for the company. It was easier that way, as the numbers for both the true business and the under-cover business were vetted by you.
“Y/n, come on a delivery with me?” Pietro pops his head into your office space.
“What kind of delivery?”
He smirks, “Special.”
You quickly grab your jacket and follow him out of your office. As you navigate to the bottom floor the two of you make small talk.
“So, when are you going to stop playing around and ask Monica out?”
Pietro rolls his eyes, “When you date someone for more than 2 outings.”
You feign a pained look, “Ouch, that one hurts Piet.”
“The truth often does.”
Once you both are out of the building and into the car your demeanor changes a bit, “So who are these going to?”
“Mr. H.”
You groan, “That guy’s sketchy, I don't like him.”
Pietro laughs, “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about us. “
“Whatever,” you mumble, scrolling through your phone.
The rest of the ride is quiet, until you pull up to the drop of location. “So, I’m going in and dropping the stuff off. You’re going to wait for me in the driver's seat.”
“Why the driver’s seat?”
He blinks at you, “In case we need to get away faster, you'll already be in here. Keep the car running, this should be quick.”
While Pietro goes in to handle the business, you let your mind spiral into thoughts about Wanda. You miss her and feel like it has been too long. Dragos said that she ended up staying in Russia for awhile before heading to their home country of Sokovia. Apparently, while he ran the business here, she ran the operations over there.
You weren’t surprised that Wanda was trusted with such an important role, she always had leadership qualities. For a long while you thought you wanted to be just like her. Instead, you realized that the older woman had been someone you were interested in. Wanda had nearly a decade on you in age, but how could you not like her as a young queer girl.
Sometimes you could still feel her hand delicately grazing your torso as she patched up the wounds your mother inflicted. For awhile in the Maximoff’s home everyone treated you as if you would break into a million pieces. Maybe Wanda did too, but it was different with her.
She wasn’t just careful with you because she was scared, you’d break, but she truly believed that you deserved the care. Even when you began training with her, she treated you delicately. You wanted to learn how to protect yourself and she stepped right in and became the perfect teacher. You also began going to the gym with Pietro at least once a week. You weren’t trying to be buff, but just in shape enough to defend yourself if you needed.
Even though your outward appearance changed to be stronger. You felt as though Wanda saw right through that into your deepest insecurities and tended to them accordingly.
Your daydreaming is cut short by Pietro busting out of the warehouse where the drop was supposed to take place, with the goods still in his hand.
“DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!”
He jumps into the passenger seat, and you hit the gas. Pietro is talking to you, but your adrenaline is kicking in. Your fieldwork doesn’t really get this exciting without a debrief. Getaway driver is definitely a new change in speed.
Your eyes focus solely on the road, ignoring what the man is saying as his chest heaves up and down. A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells you that they are following you. While you are curious about what happened, those questions can be answered later.
Pietro is actually mildly impressed with your driving skills. Your sharp turns and redirections are top notch in his opinion. Though you are doing great the guys are still tailing you.
You think for a moment, trying to remember the nearest parking garage. You realize that it’s behind you and brake hard, you weave through oncoming traffic to try to get to the parking garage.
“Get ready to hop out,” you say to Pietro parking the car. Once you do the blonde starts running on foot and you call after him. He stops in his tracks frantic until he sees you breaking into another car. When you get in you drive normally out of the parking structure and straight back to the office.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n I didn’t know you could drive like that?”
Pietro grabs the wooden box from his lap before walking to the elevator. He wipes his hands on his jeans and proceeds as though it was a just another day.
“So, what the fuck happened?”
He raises an eyebrow, “You weren’t listening in the car?”
“Duh, I was a little preoccupied with the whole driving for my life thing.”
“I guess you'll hear it when I tell Papa then.”
The two of you are definitely headed to the top floor of the building to inform Dragos of what has transpired. Pietro is never one for knocking and simply barges into the man’s office.
“Papa, do you have a- Sestra?”
Pietro’s sentence dies in his throat as he gets a glimpse of his older sister. He wastes no time sitting in the wooden box on a couch nearby and scooping up the redhead in a tight hug. You could hear them exchanging more words in their mother language. It’s an unexpectedly tender moment as Pietro tries to keep things on the light side.
Somewhere in the hug Wanda’s eyes land on you and they widen slightly. She untangles herself from her brother to get a good look at you. She’s older, as expected, but age had been more than kind to her. Wanda looks as elegant as ever, an air of distinguish surrounds her.
The way she looks at you makes you feel like a teenager again. You do your best not to squirm under her gaze. When a smile placed itself on her lips, you feel relief washing over you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulls you in to a big hug.
Her hands rise to hold your face, pulling back just slightly. She wants to get a good look at you. The softness of her hands causes you to blush.
“You’ve grown up on me little krolik.”
She releases the hold, and you speak, “You’ve been gone a long time, Wanda.”
There it is, in your voice for the first time in years; That fragile tone that you had only ever allowed Wanda to hear. You hope it didn't sound as desperate to everyone else in the room and it didn't. But Wanda picked up on it instantly.
“I have, but now I'm back; permanently,” Wanda says, keeping her eyes on you.
“And she brought a friend,” Dragos interjects, and you watch Wanda roll her eyes.
“She’s more than a friend Papa, she’s my wife and she’s sitting right here. I expect you to treat her kindly.”
Wanda is married and to a woman. Your mind scrambles to piece together what had happened in the years that she was gone for this to be the case. It is hard for you to digest what the woman had said. Your breathing becomes a little shallow, but no one takes notice.
Finally, you take notice of the other woman in the room, sitting in the chair next to the one Wanda had just been sitting in. Your mouth dries at the sight of her. The woman is stunning. Her auburn hair is a few shades darker than Wanda’s. She has a button nose, soft pink lips and piercing green eyes. You couldn't be mad at Wanda for marrying such a beautiful woman.
“Sestra, you’re married?” Pietro exclaims, looking between the two women dramatically.
“Yes; Y/n, Pietro, this is my wife, Natasha Romanoff.”
Your eyes linger on the woman even when Dragos claps his hands together to get the attention of the room, “Piet you were saying something important. I see that Mr. H didn't get his package.”
Any further pleasantries would have to wait.
“Papa it was a bad deal. They tried short me on our exchange, so I told them they could either bring me the rest of what they owe, or I’d be walking. They planned to take the package from me, so I ran immediately to the car. Of course they chased after me, but thanks to need for speed over here we got away.”
Dragos pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, “Don’t I always say being back up?”
Pietro answers back, “I took Y/n.”
This causes Natasha to chuckle a bit.
Your eyes narrow at her, “Something funny?”
She doesn’t back down, “Well from the way Wanda described you, you don't necessarily scream back up.”
Your jaw clenches slightly and you steal a quick glance at Wanda, “Wanda hasn’t seen me in over 5 years. I’m not that fragile little kid anymore.”
Dragos nods proudly, “Y/n is the biggest asset we have in this organization. She’s by far the glue that holds this all together and I will not tolerate any disrespect thrown her way.” The final part of his sentence carries a lot of weight to it, it’s a verbal warning.
Wanda clears her throat, “Hammerhead is a loyal customer, why would he try to cheat us?”
“He could have a new dealer,” you speak up. “Someone who might be charging less for similar goods.”
“You think someone is dumb enough to try to undercut us?” Pietro questions.
You speak candidly, “I think that people in this city can be greedy, and greed blinds all good sense.”
Dragos clearly agrees, “We need eyes and ears on the streets listening to anything about dealers that aren't us. I need a meeting with Hammerhead to make sure he’s got that big ugly head of his on straight. Y/n if I can't sell this, I'm going to have see a profit of this quantity somewhere else on the sheets.”
“Let Natasha and I come with you to your meeting Papa. I want you to see what we're capable of.”
“Papa, is this woman going to be joining our group?” Pietro asks.
You turn your attention to Dragos, curious of what the man has to say. There is an unbridled shine in Wanda’s eyes and a small upturn of Natasha’s lip. They seem to think that the man would say yes immediately.
Instead, he heavily sighs, “For now Ms. Romanoff is simply Wanda’s… wife. There is a chance that she’ll be given access to join. However, her involvement isn’t guaranteed. So just to be clear, she’s not going to be sitting in on the meeting.”
Wanda wants to fight back, you can tell, but she refrains. The playfulness of her features dissipates as she responds, “Is she at least allowed to stay and watch them work?”
“Y/n do you mind if Ms. Romanoff shadows you for the rest of the day?” You know what Dragos was actually asking of you. He wants you to vet her.
Your eyes land on the woman, staring at her intensely, “Sure.”
She squirms in her seat which makes you smile a bit.
“Pietro,” Dragos starts.
“Eyes & ears I’ve got it Papa,” he’s out of the door fast, setting the plan in motion.
Dragos presses a small button on his desk, “Kate can you set up a meeting between Hammerhead & I. It needs to be as soon as possible. Make it clear that if I’m kept waiting, there will be extra fees to pay. Ones that can't be bought by money.”
“No problem Mr. Maximoff. Should I have Clint get the car ready?” She responds over the intercom.
“That’ll be great, thank you Kate.”
Now it is Wanda who claps her hands, “So I guess it’s time to get to work. Which mean it’s time to say goodbye to my beautiful wife and my little krolik.”
Natasha stands from her seat and places a gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips. “Be safe,” she murmurs, not quite ready to part from her wife.
“I’ll be fine Nat, it’s just business as usual.”
Something about the two women in the same line of sight together made you feel weird. You had seen beautiful couples before, but you seem to be a little mesmerized by the sight of Natasha and Wanda. For now, you would say that it was just the shock of seeing Wanda after all these years and being blindsided by the news of her marriage.
“Have you changed too much to give me a hug before you go?”
The teasing tone in Wanda’s voice makes you roll your eyes. You walk over to her nonetheless, “I hugged you earlier, you know.”
Wanda doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug. “I know, but maybe two is too much for the new Y/n.”
You look up at her, maybe for a second too long, and you can’t help yourself, “Don’t worry, part of me is still your little krolik.”
A slight blush paints over her features as she smiles at you, “Good, keep my wife safe, ok?”
Your eyes cut to Natasha, “Of course, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
You walk out of the office with Wanda’s wife trailing closely behind you.
“So, are you going to show me what makes you the glue?”
Her words make smile tug on the edge of your lips, “If you’re lucky.”
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#pietro maximoff#kate bishop#clint barton
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sketchy grocery store shit: a very middle-aged rant
Man so. I went to college in Rochester and so I did my first I'm An Adult Shopping For My Own Groceries shopping in a Wegmans. I got used to the way the store works, how things were laid out. And of course, i got a Shopper's Club card.
I still have it somewhere, use it occasionally, but I had to get another one when I misplaced it because they asked what phone number it was tied to and like, man, it was a Rochester number with a 716 area code, that's how long ago it was. (It's 585 there now.)
I got conditioned to try the Wegmans brand generic for whatever brand name thing I was buying, because it was often the same, and was cheaper. (Though, RIP to the old Wegmans box mac n cheese, they enshittified that in 1999 once we were all good and hooked and we all mourned and switched to Annie's and never looked back. Maybe it's better now but I don't rely on that stuff the way I used to.) I got conditioned to always swipe the card because sure they were collecting data on you but in a $70 trip I'd save five bucks easy, it wasn't nothing! And I also learned to look for their Family Packs, which were larger containers of the same item for less per unit-- if it was something not that perishable, or something you could get through, it was worth spending a little more now to stretch it later!
Anyway. I went to Wegmans yesterday, I live in Buffalo now and we have them here too, and we have a rotation of grocery stores we patronize but when I do the shopping, I'm still the most used to Wegmans, I know where stuff is, and I knew some of the stuff I wanted, they'd be the ones to have. (The organic co-op doesn't carry Doritos and sometimes in the doldrums of winter a bitch needs some of that poison, y'know?)
I'd noticed before that the Shoppers Club isn't a savings thing anymore. I didn't have my own card for one visit and the cashier went to great lengths to get me a swipe from a manager, and at the end I'd spent $200 and saved.... fifty cents.
This time around I'd taken advantage of a buy one get one deal to get a second box of something I didn't really need a second box of, only to discover it was buy one get a dollar off the second, so I saved a whole dollar and actually spent three I hadn't needed to. Well, whatever. It's not perishable and I'll eventually go through it.
But the other thing I noticed was the wild price swings by different packaging of the same item. I should've taken pictures. But like-- ok, raw baby spinach. I fucking love spinach. They had a smaller bag and then next to it they had a Family Pack. I hesitated-- it is hard to use up leafy greens but I fucking love spinach and I could make the effort-- and then I looked. I can't do math but fortunately they are required by law to have the price per unit breakdown on every price sticker. Because the small bag of spinach was $1.99, and was $3.99/lb. (A pound of spinach is a lot.) The Family Pack next to it? It was $3.99, which seemed like a good price jump. But on the per-item breakdown, it came out to $7.99/lb. It didn't actually have any more spinach in it. It was just a different-shaped bag and cost more. For no reason. And there was a whole shelf of the larger bags, and only a small display of the smaller ones. They're just expecting people, conditioned like I am, to say "ah i can use more spinach i'll take the savings" and buy the more expensive bag. But I did just do the math (which is difficult for me so you know I'm mad about this) and that is literally the exact same amount of spinach for twice the price.
Similar for stew beef but they went too far with it, it wasn't even plausible. There was a large pack for forty-nine dollars and I didn't even look to see how much was in it because i do not have forty-nine dollars for stew beef, I found a one-pound bag for $8.99. But I had this same issue before, and was more persistent last time I went: you can buy a three-pound chuck roast for $7.99/lb, which is a chunk of change but it's a lot of meat, and cut it into stew beef yourself and save some money that way, but I just knew I did not have it in me this week to cut up yet another chuck roast when I got home. (Full disclosure: i wasn't even looking at the grass-fed organic shit this was just regular USDA whatever Meets Regulations And Is Legal To Sell shit.)
Stew beef is supposed to be the trimmings and it is supposed to be cheap. But they have realized people prefer it, more recipes call for it because it was historically cheaper, and so they have marked it up and it is more expensive than the whole roast. Because most cooks reading a recipe are not going to necessarily know why it calls for stew beef and that they could substitute a superior cut if the price wasn't good.
I am aware that buying the pre-marinated individual convenience cuts is historically where they make their profit and I don't begrudge them that; if that's what I was shopping for I would not be that mad about paying $7 for three cents worth of marinade ingredients, because it is much easier to cook something like that with the attached recipe and because a lot of the markup is the labor costs in putting all that shit together. I don't begrudge them that at all and when I'm paying for it I'm well aware that I am.
But I really do resent how much of the price-gouging is happening by abusing the patterns of behavior they conditioned us into. I learned, twenty years ago, to look for the deals and look for the bulk packs, and now I am being punished for having learned that. I don't mind paying a premium for something I know is a convenience fee, but being charged extra for my formerly-thrifty shopping habits really stings. I shouldn't have to exercise constant vigilance in the fucking grocery store, it's stressful enough to be the only masked person in there and now you have to compete with the huge carts they use for the online ordering peeps that take up a lot of the aisle.
Maybe it's easier to do the price comparisons on the website?
Oh and there are a number of products they now only carry the Wegmans generic for. (You can't get Snyder pretzel bites anymore, and the Wegmans version doesn't come in quite the same flavors, so I have to go to Dash's to get those now.) And still others where the Wegmans version is pricier. And, alas, some where the more expensive Wegmans version is better. (Polly-O string cheese, why are you so bland?? You're a snack baby. The Wegmans generic has salt in it and is a ton more pleasant to eat.)
IDK I don't have a thesis here it's just that being alive in the 2020s is way harder than being alive in the 2000s even though I was poorer then and didn't know shit. I don't miss my youth and I super don't miss George W Bush but I miss when I was figuring stuff out and it seemed to make sense. And I sorta miss when the Wegmans cashiers used to wear t-shirts bragging about how highly-ranked Wegmans was by whatever organization that was that ranked how good places are to work for.
Also, they try to steer you to use the self checkouts, but baby if you have more than two shopping bags' worth of stuff in your cart you had better wait in however long that line is to let a real human put it into bags for you because the self-checkout does not have any mechanism for you to remove and replace a full shopping bag from the bagging area. I told the cashier how much I appreciated him because he wasn't screaming at me, and he was like yah those self-checkouts yell at you a lot.
(Every Wegmans cashier for twenty years has been super nice. I doubt they're in a union, I wish they were.)
Yeah yeah this is the most middle-aged thing I've written yet but I'm in physical therapy and just bought a recliner for the ergonomics so I'm clearly grappling with my own mortality here, and I'm writing this partly out of concern for the kids who are where I was in 2000. What the hell are they being conditioned to do, by all this????? Shit, man.
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The way you draw neuvillette and Wriothesley has me giggling and kicking my feet, they’re such little guys they make my soul start doing ribbon dances.
I do also have a question, 👀, you mentioned you mainly draw neuvi from head cannons, are there any you don’t draw but enjoy a lot just in your mind?
Hola :3 thank you for the kind words and I am happy to see you like my little guys doing their little guys things
I let this sit for some days to think about headcanons, since I can't think of many. I mostly just get scenarios into my head at like 1am, write them down and doodle them in the evening as a relaxation so it's not like a very thought through thing. But I managed to write down some.
Appearance wise:
First of all, I sort of completely disregard canon details. It's not because I don't like them, but because I draw quick, have no patience, and after drawing a character onec or twice I get their general idea into my head and from there on only draw them from memory. I find it helpful since it is not only quick and comfortable, but allows my sketchy drawings to avoid overcluttering with details. As long as the general shape and colour palette are close to the original - I am happy. Second, I like the idea of some draconic features on Neuv. Sharp teeth, longer sharper tongue, eye pupil delation when he is happy or excited to see something (same for zhongli) and I think it would be cute if his horns would glow when he is pleased, happy or at peace. That's why if you sleep next to him and can't fall asleep because of the light - shh don't wake him up - he is having a sweet dream. Third: he likes to dress up. I need to think of some outfits I could draw him in. In game he often points out that he stands out and causes confusion when he walks around, his status and looks intimidate people into thinking he is there on official business by default. That's why I think over the centuries he acquired an interest in fashion and has a lot of outfits he puts on for more casual outings in that little free time he has.
Personality wise I can't say much. I am like always scared of going too ooc, because I genuinely love the way he is presented in canon, so all I do is more of an addition to it rather than substitute... But I think he would like plants. He would feed them the finest water and enjoy watching them bloom. Plus, Sumeru is right there so perhaps he finds himself fascinated by plants growing there and has a few saplings.
And on a slightly NSFW note: wriolette in my head are switches. I always tag it with wriolette only but I also never draw explicit stuff, but I think they love each other in ways where there is no dynamic of one overpowering another: they tend to each other's comfort and pleasure and happiness in equal matter.
Yeah I don't have much but hopefully this was a nice (slightly long) read. o7 thank you for the question, it was fun to think about
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NSFW ALPHABET - sebastian
AO3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
pretty normal, there isn’t much aftercare needed when it comes to sebastian anyways. just a regular washcloth and kiss! but, let’s be real, he’d be a bit awkward with it all
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
is protective of his hair, and was quite upset with both luther & randal fucking with it. however, it’s pretty good at bouncing back quickly! he takes a lot of time to style it for it just end up poofy
loves your legs, good lord! he’d be on his knees in a second if it meant he could admire them up close (but he’d probably end up down there anyways)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
adores seeing it pooled on your tongue… doesn’t matter if you end up spitting or swallowing, he just likes knowing it was in your mouth at some point or another
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
has jerked it to the thought of randal as a girl
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
besides a failed handy behind the bleachers in high school and sketchy porn mags? hell naw
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
reverse cowgirl, he’s an ass man! otherwise, sebastian loves doggy (either way so you don’t see how red he gets)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
pretty goofy honestly, at least once he gets past the initial awkwardness. will crack a toothy grin once he sees you naked for the first time, it’ll be hard to wipe that off of his face
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
could not care less about grooming down there, curly bush for life! he honestly didn’t know guys did that
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
can be a bit disconnected due to performance anxiety… he sometimes gets real caught up in kissing you. he can get very very into it, in a worship sort of way as well
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
uses it as an avenue of destressing, especially due to randal. will jerk it in the coffin next to him, pissed as all hell. he then gets stupidly embarrassed afterwards, because he knows randal will find out eventually
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
pretty vanilla as they come! is kinda into it if you bite him though
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
can’t resist the allure of shower sex, even if it ends up in him almost slipping on his ass. otherwise, wherever he can!
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
as mentioned in entry j, sebastian loves to use sex as a way to vent frustration. when he gets ticked off, he pulls at your sleeve with the most desperate look on his face
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
nothing intense i.e. stuff randal likes, if you start bleeding he’ll freak the fuck out
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
LOVES receiving, good god he’s obsessed. he honestly prefers it to any other kind of sex…
is a bit addicted to giving, especially when you shove his face down to the point of borderline suffocation
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
a bit out of rhythm, but intensely desperate
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
it’s all he can really get with randal breathing down his neck, and sebastian doesn’t mind so much. he loves finding a randomly appearing broom/coat closet to meet you in for the five minutes he gets ‘alone’ (the dolls see all)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he likes to tout himself as super experimental to impress you, but let’s be real, the most experimentation this man will do is anal (giving or receiving alike!)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
NOT LONG AT ALL. but, he’ll try and make up for it with his tongue ;-)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
saw a fleshlight in the back of spencer’s once but got scared while in line to buy it
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
sebastian doesn’t really know what foreplay is, so you’re gonna have to teach him to tease as well
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
stupidly fucking loud oh my god, you have to shove something in his mouth to get this boy to shut up even slightly. it’s so whiny and pitchy and pathetic
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
popped a very intense boner in lucid 5 when nyen & nyon cornered him. couldn’t get it to go down for an hour, made him have to think about a lot internally
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
5 inches. it is the most pedestrian penis you have ever laid eyes upon
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
insane, sebastian is the most desperate guy on earth, but doesn’t really do anything to initiate besides beg or whisper how hard his dick hurts
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
homeboy could probably fall asleep in the middle of it with how easily he sleeps in canon
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I’m moving into college in 3 weeks have you got any tips :0
yes!! quite a few actually. :) *for mutuals outside of the u.s., this advice is based on a U.S. American university experience, so some of it may not apply to you.
PLEASE SEND ASKS if you have specific questions, and I’ll either speak from my own experience or give information from other friends in university rn!!
packing:
You don’t need to bring ALL your stuff. (Really, it’s okay. Also, you have limited space.)
A quick Google search of “college packing list 2023” will yield many results. It’s up to you to decide what “essentials” are actually essential, but suffice it to say, think about the things you use on a daily basis and then think about what you don’t have at home that you’ll need in student housing.
Apartment or dorm, unless you’re really lucky—you’ll be sharing living space & appliances with other people. Yes, that includes showers. If you can get toiletries cheaper locally than in the location of your university, save yourself the time and money. Shower shoes are an absolute must, because those showers can get disgusting.
If you have a meal plan that lasts the entire year, you don’t really need to pack a bunch of food (or go grocery shopping a ton during the school year) but it can be nice to have dry goods & snacks on hand. (I keep rice, macaroni & cheese, crackers, & some type of dried fruit around, if nothing else. Whatever tastes strike your fancy, feel free to add/substitute.) If you’re cooking all your own food, you’re going to need at least a cooking pot, frying pan, spatula, dish sponges, and dish soap, as well as some resealable food storage containers and cheap cups and bowls (I got most of that at Target. They tend to have back-to-school sales and bowls & cups go for less than a dollar each.)
Laundry is going to be a pain in the ass, unless again, you luck out and have a washer and dryer in-unit. Ditto for dishes (unless your space comes with a dishwasher). Do yourself a favor & get a huge bin of Tide pods, pack of laundry sheets, & at least two paper towel rolls so you don’t have to run out every week to replenish cleaning supplies. (I personally despise having dish towels to wash, so if you don’t mind them take the paper towel advice with a grain of salt.)
My dorm was weird and had a sink in it. If you’re responsible for cleaning your own sink it will get nasty quickly. Either take turns with your roommate(s)/housemate(s), or figure out who the designated sink cleaner is.
friends/socializing:
Your first friend group in college will likely not be your last, nor will it last. This group is usually composed of people close in proximity to you aka convenience friends. You might realize three or four months in that these are not your people and you don’t like hanging out with them. This is perfectly normal and okay! You’ll find people who you do vibe with. I encourage you not to limit making friends to your specific university, although if you go to a small one like I do that can be tough.
Universities often have events with free stuff, including free food. Take advantage of these events if & when you can. They’re usually very laid back, and if you’re not in the mood to stick around, you can grab food and then dip.
Orientation events & icebreakers within your first week are to be expected. Try to remember a fun fact about yourself (which is what you usually get asked, along with your intended major, name, pronouns—sometimes, & hometown).
Your RA(s) aren’t cops, but they also aren’t your friends. They’re required to report sketchy shit that happens. My RAs had a rule that if they didn’t hear, see, or smell anything suspicious, it was like nothing happened, but try to get a feel for what yours look out for.
It is more than okay to need/want therapy. You’ve just gone through a massive change in your life and you did it mostly, if not all, by yourself. Your university counseling services (if applicable) are generally not the best place to go for therapy, though. This is especially true if you’re worried about your privacy. I don’t think I’ve heard of student discounts for therapy, but some therapists have this policy called sliding scale where you pay what you can. Find a person you can talk openly with and who is experienced with your mental health concerns/practices the right kind of therapy for you. (CBT, DBT, & EMDR are a few examples.)
dating, love, etc.
First and foremost, if this section doesn’t apply to you because you don’t participate or aren’t ready to in college, please feel free to skip!
If you’re still here, obviously I am not the expert on your love life—you are. That being said, without getting too personal, here are some things I’ve picked up through trial and error.
If you’re starting college, and haven’t yet dated anyone, it’s okay to feel behind. What isn’t okay is being patronized or taken advantage of for your lack of experience. I wish I could say it’s just common sense, but it’s crucial to figure out what your boundaries, limits, & standards are before getting into an intimate situation with somebody. (I myself learned this the hard way.)
simply put: It is okay to be picky! (Read that again.) Or not—what works for one person won’t work for everyone. Some people date & hook up just for fun, especially during college when a lot of changes are happening, and that suits them fine. Some people want stronger, longer connections, and that works for them. Some people focus on friends over partners and refrain from the entire dating & hookup scene. All are valid and healthy. (As long as you stay safe, sane, & consensual, and get tested.)
school stuff:
Please do yourself a favor and don’t schedule 8am classes five days a week. I don’t care if you could do it in high school—chances are you’re going to need to wake up way beforehand to get ready OR your roommate will do something ridiculous in the middle of the night that will wake you up. In this more than likely event, you won’t want to wake up and go straight to class. If you’re not a STEM major, this advice is easier than if you are (and if the first applies, my condolences and much love).
You need sleep no matter what—if that means midday naps, go for it. I don’t recommend skipping class to nap unless it’s an emergency though.
Re skipping class: some professors take attendance and your grade can suffer if you don’t attend. Aside from mental health days, skipping class for fun can be a slippery slope at some universities. (At some, Cs get degrees and grades don’t matter as much, especially if you aren’t looking to go down the postgrad path.)
#college#university#uni#universidad#college tips#college advice#general advice#asks#answered#school#studyblr#ref#host posts
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FEM! TRAFALGAR LAW HEADCANONS BECAUSE I LOVE WOMEN
a/n : sometimes i just wish law was actually written as a girl cuz DAMN
first off, CLOTHES SHE'D WEAR!!
i'm getting major streetwear/chola style vibes from fem! law
like i mean ripped up baggy jeans, croptops, hoodies, oversized t-shirts, sports bras, long clickity clackity nails (if she really wanted to but very occasionally), and of course (his? her?) their hat
she got her earrings done when she was too little to remember so it's just annoying to have to redo them every so often
i have no clue who'd do her tattoos since she most definitely wouldn't trust some sketchy guy to do them
maybe herself but i don't think that's it either
and whenever you ask her, she makes up a different story (like that one blond guy in "ratatouille" who has a criminal record)
"woke up with it" "they're stick n pokes" "this guy i knew who would only wear bucket hats" and of course "nunya"
she is half german and half mexican (may or may not be self projection with the mexican part)
i get HUGE ymir from aot vibes with fem! law
she appears rude, hardheaded, and pessimistic, but she really does care about others and does have some hope in her (wishing her crew likes her horrendous hawaiian shirts)
her music taste is rock, rap, indie dream pop (tv girl), and then sad spanish songs that slap way too hard (i'm thinking "no me queda mas" by selena, a bunch of vicente fernandez songs my mom loves to play at full volume, and "amor eterno" by rocio durcal)
def not straight i mean just look at fem! law fanart on tumblr bro like honey... and man, am i glad she isn't straight cuz GODDAMN
if you go out with her, you need to order for her pls she can't do it on her own
but she will take the bill, no excuses
i think the type of person she needs as a partner would have to be okay with silence, they have to be outgoing and fun but mature with intense situations, and yeah
plays the bass guitar and has been for years
also plays the drums but her main instrument is bass
really wants to be in a band but not really since she hates the idea of having to be nice all the time for the public
at a mall, she either hangs out at hot topic, barnes and nobles, or justice the whole time
got a bunch of piercings all over her but that's a secret lol nobody knows...
UNTIL I TELL YOU: bellybutton, industrial, conch, ear lobe, tragus, bridge, middle tongue, hip, nipple, and then a bunch of genital piercings i will not be discussing any further XD
her most used apps are photos, notes, tumblr, pinterest, depop, and....... ao3
OKAY OKAY as hard as it might be to believe this, this is NOT self projection it is TRUTH
she doesn't religiously read fics or anything, just occasional oneshots about her nerdy crap when she's bored or something
my girl out here reading her "sora, warrior of the sea" 10k+ fics 💀
if you take her home to meet the family, at first they'll be thrown off by her intimidating looks, but soon enough they'll realize what a little loser she is! the cutie patootie she is <3
LOVE LOVE LOVES cringy 70s/80s/90s movies (think "grease", "the princess bride", "pretty in pink", "10 things i hate about you", etc.)
she doesn't know why. she hates the dumb stereotypes and all that stuff, but she just can't help it! she's so real for it too
idk why but i feel like she'd LOVE spiderman???? like as an obsession?
she is pretty normal about the live action movies, it's just SPIDERVERSE THAT MAKES HER GO CRAZY
she also wants to be good at art but never has motivation to do it
she def has an upside down smile (that what it's called? i think of it more as a "oh that's cringy look and stare y'all" smile)
is she scrawny? muscular? i can't decide honestly. like yeah guy law has some brawn, but he is still a pretty lanky guy, so that's why i see fem! law as a lanky chick. but i love muscular women... goddamn she is just lanky. she obviously has some meat on her bones, but not much.
that being said, i don't think she's very curvaceous either (let's pretend oda didn't draw her the way he did). she is no doubt an a cup, and while her butt is fairly larger, she's still pretty flat.
she also only ever wears sports bras since she thinks regular bras are uncomfy and a hassle.
for a va to replace masc! law's, i would say for japanese romi park. for english, i'd say either trina nushimura or elizabeth maxwell.
for one piece live action, i would want like zendaya as fem! law 😭 aye anything for queen zendaya
only bepo knows this, but she wears socks and sandals on sundays no fail.
has a tattoo somewhere of bepo's name inside a heart with an arrow through it (think those tattoos that tough guys get, with instead of bepo, "mom" is what's written)
fem! law still wears ugly ass hawaiian shirts, don't get it mixed up ✊
that's all for now :)
likes and reblogs are appreciated <3
have a good day!!
#one piece#one piece fanfiction#one piece imagines#trafalgar law#trafalgar d water law#op law#fem trafalgar law#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#one piece headcanons#trafalgar law headcanons#law headcanons#genderbend#she's so real#pathetic loser
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any tips for non-stiff poses?
Here’s a couple things I do
If you’re taking from reference I think that you should attempt to use it as a SUGGESTION not as a 1 to 1 I see that a lot and it looks “correct” but often it can come off quite stiff. Try breaking down the drawing into the very basic direction it’s going in and those shouldn’t move and use those as guidelines
and this is typically if you don’t need much help with anatomy I think if you still struggle with basic form you should break the body into shapes first before you do “suggestion” one stiffness also depends on the pen you use use I use a pen that has zero line weight on it because I like the sketchy look so in that case I will add my own weight to it by adding shadows to make it a little solid(?) so I will manipulate the drawing by erasing likes adding stuff it make it blockier
This can add a direction to the drawing kinda like a purpose if you ask me! Depending on the color of the background you can back light it but if it’s like a darker than the subject black shadows can make it less borinf by pushing those parts back into space~
Another thing that takes seconds just make it more interesting is like changing perspective if the pose is already stiff as hell is raising of lowering the “camera”
all you gotta do if lasso tool it and make things bigger and somethings smaller and change to face and stuff it LITERALLY takes like 2 seconds and makes it a little more dynamic and makes it more interesting
Hope this helps! :) I have a couple other things I do but these are like the simplest to explain!
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Ok I've been looking through your art for the millionth time and I just gotta gush about it for a bit hope you don't mind lol
Your style is gorgeous to look at every time, I enjoy the fancier paintings but the sketchy stuff is my absolute favorite. The line hatching combined with your wonderful sense of anatomy and posing creates a gritty realism that compliments our beloved Downfall Duo perfectly. I keep going back to your two-parter about Hyrule getting possessed, specifically these 2 panels:
I get so excited every time I see this bro, the shadows and poses ground the boys in their environment so well. Perhaps I'm biased against my own work but I often feel like the characters in my art feel a bit too floaty and disconnected from their environments, so seeing your art is an encouragement and a goal to work towards! It's just so good lol
I think that's all I've got for now, can't wait to see more from you!! :D
I get compliments from artists as great as you? OMG I was so surprised and happy at the same time! I admire your work too.
And I'm even more surprised you like that comic. I drew a battle pose for that comic with reference to my own body, which was quite difficult to make >.<. I like to challenge myself by drawing different poses or POV. So I'm really happy if you like it that much ^^ Thank you so much!
I am very honored if you make my art as your art goal, I am happy if it can help you to be better. If you need help, and if I can do it, I will help you.
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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
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More goofy idiots; high school musical edition. Also yeah I probably just could have gotten away with Kinkajou (also yes both her and Qibil’s names are misspelled AF in the image I’m not fixing it right now) plus the actual protags but I need to practice for Arc 3 which aparently has like several dozen pseudo-protagonists, which I’m probably going to do in a slightly different style because I like the idea of trying sketchy line art with the procreate brush pen.
Okay now time for the actual headcanons
-I originally was going to give Moon a way different design (her horns where going to be long and curved like ibex horns/crescent moons but I couldn’t get that to work in the sketch; she was going to have a split color design, like one side of her body was going to be light and the other dark like a half moon), but then my brain went “albino=white/pink with red eyes, that’s moon-y because the moon looks white from earth sometimes and blood moons are a thing so red”. I do like the sketch I came up with. I still think I could have gone harder with the wrinkly skin and underbite, since I imagine it those are details frequently found on Nightwings from the volcano.
-I think Moon being a twist villain, or at least an untrustworthy character, would be kind of interesting. Like if she had been the final POV character instead and she’d been kind of this ambiguous, somewhat suspicious guide to the Darkstalker stuff.
-The entire modern Icewing royal family is considered somewhat strange looking by that tribes standards; unusually short horns, typically no fur, and oddly dark and saturated colors. I’m not from a place that gets snowy, white winters that often. More “everything dies back and it gets muddy, foggy, and frosty”, thus Winter’s color palette.
-I have a headcanon that firescales/fireless twin sets are technically identical (Sky being NB), it’s just due to the presences of no/too much fire, their features develop differently. Peril has far richer and saturated colors than Sky, but their actual patterns are identical. Due to her fire, Peril’s feathers never properly grew in (she’s like the sphinx cat equivalent of a Skywing), while Sky by comparison is very floofy. However if you peeled Sky (shaved off their feathers), they would have the exact same body shapes and features as their sister. Also the aforementioned color patterns are based of the American Kestrel.
-I have a couple of old Turtle designs kicking around my Procreate; I originally was going to use one of them (which I might post at some point to embarrass myself), to inspire this one. However, I ended up creating something entirely new. My original design had him as a lot more solid, gross yellow-y shade of green, with no tan underbelly or needle. However I discovered that the underbelly and needle would give him some nice resemblance to his sister Tsunami. Also I was using mata-mata turtles as one of my primary design references and damn those bois got schnoze.
-Turtle also would have been an interesting twist villain. Like if we got faked out like “he’s too suspicious to be the bad guy” and then he just is.
-Funny thing about Qibil; I always mis-remembered Qibils earring as having a black diamond earring rather than an “orange sunstone” one. Perhaps I was confusing his drip with Blister’s. He gets both as a treat. Also the reason why he has the classic fan depiction head sail strandy-thingy because of the scar his mom gave him. The sail behind the scar grew back all delicate and long; he’s let it grow out to see how long it can get.
-The little unneeded spite for the series/fandom I have for some reason built up on Qibil for some reason. Maybe because seemingly the rest of the fandom worships the little guy. I’d probably like him if I actually read the books, but I have developed a stupid re-write of him where he is sort of like the annoying little brother of the Jade Winglet and Jade Moutain as a general who thinks he is hotter shit than he is that nobody dares talk down to for fear of bringing mama Thorn or big sister Sunny down on their asses. He’s tried to flirt with everybody in his winglet and they’ve all pushed him away with some degree of gentleness.
-IDK who was the first fan artist to do magenta-yellow-cyan Kinkajou but it sure as hell works. I have a headcanon that younger Rainwing dragonets tend to have brighter, saturated comfort colors (image the “crayola water marker base pack” color palette). However as Rainwings mature, they tend to “mild” out their comfort colors with more varied hues. Thus, she used to have the neon pink-yellow color palette when she was younger. Also she kind of ended up looking kind of like a lychee or rambutan and I love it.
-I didn’t have too many thoughts on Umber. I mostly just focused on making him look different enough from Clay while still making him look like a possible sibling.
-I thought I was going to put more effort into Carnelians design, but I ended up just yeeting something together based off the real world carnelian stone.
-I know Anenome is described as being pink and blue/white in the books, but where I live we have neat little pink tipped green anemones so that’s her color palette. Also I imagine she wears a lot more jewelry when she’s at home but she just took a few things with her to school.
#wof#wof headcanon#wof arc 2#wof art#wof mudwing#wings of fire#wof nightwing#wof sandwing#wof skywing#wof rainwing#wof seawing#wof icewing#wof moon#wof winter#wof peril#wof turtle#wof qibli#wof kinkajou#wof umber#wof carnelian#wof jade mountain#dragon#my art#digital art#procreate#2022
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How to actually get people to try TTRPGs other than D&D
I've probably said most of this stuff separately, but here it is all together. This was originally even longer, and way more satirical, but honestly, while it was very funny, I think just a straight shot is what's called for.
The long "in defense of D&D" toll you must pay first as it's crucial to understand why so many efforts fail:
The popularity is a feature.
Yes, there is a reason it has the name recognition it does, and yes, that reason is capitalism; this post explains that far better than I ever could. You do need to go about this assuming that you are not going to personally end capitalism tomorrow, and even if you did, more people would be familiar with D&D than any other TTRPG, and 5e would have a number of materials geared specifically towards new players. Pretending this isn't the case will not help you.
Switching TTRPGs, particularly to anything that vaguely resembles D&D in genre, theme, and character creation, requires obtaining materials, finding a group (possibly even a GM, and those are thin on the ground), and learning a new system. This takes significant time, effort, and possibly money. That's often ignored. More importantly, people will have emotional attachments to the games they like. I've found that often, the "hook" in posts encouraging people to leave D&D is when WoTC does something sketchy. However, as a lot of players and creators in the industry pointed out recently, if someone already owns all the D&D content they need, they can sustain a boycott and have no need to switch; and what's more, when someone is considering other games not to better meet their gameplay needs or to expand their horizons, but because they feel cheated, the last person they want to hear from is a gleefully circling vulture.
So if you're reading this and saying "well then, where's my opportunity? when do I pounce?" the answer is "if you are thinking of introducing people to new games as an opportunity to pounce and poach rather than a warm welcome, I feel incredibly sorry for you, and you will probably alienate more people than you attract."
Anyway, onto the actual mechanical merits of D&D. It is a flexible system. It is not infinitely flexible - it has many limitations - but a lot of other systems are even narrower in scope, not broader. D&D can be rules-heavy, but RP is largely open and, barring charm spells, I control my PC, which I vastly prefer to games that will tell me how my character feels. It accommodates a wide range of play styles, from very loose to very crunchy.
D&D hits on a particular balance of strict, though often streamlined mechanical rules for combat and abilities, and wide-open freedom for character personality and agency, which is very appealing to many. In fact, a common complaint I've seen from D&D players about other systems is that they are rigid and overcomplicated in the areas where they want more freedom and ease, and too loose in the places where they want structure. This doesn't mean those systems are wrong or bad! It does however mean that they are not a natural fit for people who genuinely enjoy D&D as a system.
Also, just to get it out of the way: I (and a lot of D&D players I know):
strongly dislike games that regularly just tell you how your character feels, mechanically
Feel that D&D handles mixed successes in a way that feels rewarding for the player and which moves forth the narrative
Feel that D&D has, in the base PHB form, a manageable (ie, non-overwhelming) number of classes/subclasses and races such that you can start people off simple and then those with experience can explore other resources.
In other words: games with mechanics that regularly tell you what your character's emotions are instead of letting you choose through open RP? Games where nearly every success comes with a serious consequence? The 20+ classes of Pathfinder before you even get into archetypes? Not always a selling point! In fact, often a drawback for people coming from D&D! which brings me to the first real point:
Listen to the person you’re trying to convince before you recommend anything.
This doesn't apply if you're making a "hey! this game is cool!" post in general, provided you're actually focusing on said game's own merits, but if you're trying to interact with an individual or a group, you have to personalize it.
First, think theme. This should be obvious, but I have had people recommend survival horror when I've asked for farcical mystery, so it needs to be said. Many TTRPGs - I'd even argue most, and that includes D&D - have pretty significant genre expectations, and so you should be matching those to the interests of the person you're talking to.
This also goes for tools and mechanics! Having a virtual character sheet or dice rollers (for example) isn't terribly important to me, but some people do want the support of these tools and that should be taken under consideration. Don't tell someone who is primarily playing remotely to try to play Dread; don't tell someone looking for a system that supports character advancement over time to play Honey Heist. Again, seemingly intuitive, but you'd be surprised at how often people ignore the entire content of a request simply to hype their favorite game and in doing so harm that game's perception.
The person you're interacting with is a human with preferences, not a faceless proselytizing target. This is about them. It's not about your favorite game. It's about the game you think could be their favorite game.
A crash course will do wonders.
A crash course isn't as immediately attention-grabbing as saying "this is/isn't just like D&D," but it is actually useful. This is why actual play is such a powerful tool for encouraging people to play games - they can see an example. I'm the kind of person who does read a rulebook cover to cover, but this is still useful, because games can come off as far more intimidating or finicky on paper than they are in play. Understanding common player shortcuts and rules as intended vs. written is pure gold in terms of being convincing.
(For what it's worth: I do think it's important to read the rules once you've gotten the gist from actual play. I'm not a fan of "rules by osmosis." However, I think having crash courses or actual play examples are an important part of making people decide it's worth investing the time and often money involved in obtaining the game and reading the rules in the first place.)
If there's a free quickstart guide, an actual play episode or one-shot, or any kind of succinct but reasonably thorough introduction to the game, start there. Disseminate it. Put the rules in someone's hands and say "if this is interesting to you, join us!" and let them make their decision.
Don't sell a fixer-upper
(This also goes for D&D players talking mechanics - it's a community-wide problem to be sure.)
If you don't know of a game that fits someone's needs? Admit it. Point them towards people who know more about the TTRPG landscape, but my god, do not tell them "well, you can learn another system, and then immediately start hacking it with twenty add-ons and house rules before you have any fluency." It's okay to not know! It's even okay to say "I don't know something that achieves all of X, Y, and Z, but you might like this game, which is really good at X and decent at Y out of the box." Again: change is hard. Change that requires even more effort than usual is harder.
Are you trying to convince people to change, or are you trying to convince them to stop?
Shame is useful when you want people to stop doing something, or do something that doesn't require continued interactions with those yelling at them. It's useful to get people to stop making off-color jokes. It's very bad for getting people to join your community. (It's very good for making people leave your community).
This is especially true with TTRPGs, which do not have to be a zero sum game - we all have finite amounts of time, but people can and do play multiple games. And so again: do you genuinely want people to play your favorite game? Or do you just want to get them to stop playing D&D? Would you be welcoming to someone who runs alternating one shots or mini campaigns in both systems, or is it more important to you that they not play D&D, even if that means they never give your favorite indie creator a dime? And if it's the latter...what does that say about you?
In summary:
My general experience in TTRPG spaces as a D&D player has been, honestly, that many indie players are less interested in getting D&D players to join them than in getting D&D players to stop playing D&D. In my admittedly spiteful case, this means that there are a few TTRPGs I truly will not check out because I've found the online community to be far too unpleasant for it to be worth my time.
I'm well aware those people are not representative of all players. I'm sure there are many lovely players. And, for what it's worth, while I would never do something as invasive or obnoxious as going on other people's posts or worse, into their inbox or DMs to berate them for saying they dislike the game I play, I'm sure there are people who have come across my posts and said, for whatever reason, "I don't want to play with her."
I think D&D does have a certain amount of leeway in that it is the predominant game, for better or for worse, and so it's much easier to find the voices you enjoy and drown out those who don't, whereas there are indie games where one single person has been my sole introduction to it, and they have immediately fucked it up by making that introduction to it in the form of being incredibly obnoxious. Again: it's not fair. I'm not pretending it's fair. But it is the reality.
So it's worth checking to see if aggressive evangelizers in your own community are actively making your favorite game seem more unpalatable. You will do more good by getting them to cut it out than by promising the people they're bothering that not all of you are like that.
If you're interested in hyping up a game, then I'd focus on making posts about why it's good - not why others are bad; capitalizing in a positive way on popular shows branching out into other systems (eg, TAZ's BitD and Monster Hunter campaigns and dips into Urban Shadows; D20's Kids on Brooms or Good Society hacks; the CR and RQG one-shots of your choosing); and providing crash courses and fun, easily navigable paths to playing it.
#writing this reminded me of like. 3 separate specific incidents.#anyway! hopefully this is useful#long post
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NAME : viv
PRONOUNS : they/them
PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : i don't really have beef with IMs but i feel like we always end up moving to disco don't we........ either or is fine with me! building a rapport with my partners makes plotting much easier for me and i kind of need that because plotting isn't my strong suit. i'm also just very nosy and i like to know what everyone's up to. you should also give me your letterboxd and twitter handles so i can have my eyes everywhere.
NAME OF MUSE(S) : runke and futh (canned laughter)
BEST EXPERIENCE : i could never pick. genuinely it would make me so sad. i am very grateful for those partners who i've distinctly clicked with. i want you all to give me your addresses so i can send you marks and spencers chocolate-covered custard creams. only then will you know how much i love you.
RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : i really do like to see writing on rp blogs. i think it's possible to strike a balance between ooc stuff and ic stuff. all the stuff we've collectively (for the most part) agreed is lame: inaccessible formatting, sketchy fcs, etc. echoing what lye said about people not softblocking. i've only had one experience where it happened and i continued to interact with the person unknowingly and it continues to Haunt me, possibly because i am on this website excessively.
MUSE PREFERENCES : i don't understand the question, and i won't respond to it.
PLOTS OR MEMES : hate to pit women against each other.
LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : short (canned laughter) yes i'm aware......... i'm aware. stealing my own tweet but i'm rereading a john irving novel again (possibly my favourite) and he encourages me to blether and i am for sure blethering atm. for the sake of my own sanity i'd like everything to be short. but we all want something.
BEST TIME TO WRITE : i find it impossible to write before and after work, i don't even try anymore. if i don't have at least one day out of the week where much of what i do in that day is writing i am unwell. if i start mid-morning i tend to find i can get more done.
ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : ruth has so much of me in her i feel like if someone said they hated her i'd maybe pass away, but i'd need to be so normal about it. i'd like to think funke has some of my humour and heart...... and those BIG feelings i struggle to communicate (like ruth) but he just doesn't care. he's so free. he has no chains. i'm envious often.
TAGGED BY: @vitalphenomena
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Who are the artists that you love on here?
I want you to know this is the narrowed down list:
General artists:
@doekis (has a lot of soft 80s inspired cartoon art (think carebears, classic mlp, etc.)) their works are like cotton candy on silk canvas to the eyes, they’re so so SO pretty and cute.
@nicktoonsunite (aka izbubbles) the expansion to the nicktoons cinematic universe I didn’t know I needed but now that I have it, I am in love with it.
@graskip pretty use of colors and visual textures, a very maximalist use of short hand indicators on simple silhouettes that elegantly balance each other out. Their work is the closest thing to touching grass if that makes sense.
@ferretrix I forgot why I followed them and then scrolled down, and oh my goodness their comics? Their colors??? Their sketchy thick lines that make me wanna go feral???? Good stuff, check them out
@mutiniir followed for the epithet erased fan characters, stayed for the shoes with gun heels. They are incredibly talented, and have a fun and fantastic writing style.
@speyerboot everything cute, colorful, and just Shaped ™️ their works are super fun, they made that one epithet erased avatar maker (I can’t for the life of me remember the site rn), really good stuff!
@yamujiburo I don’t think they require a shoutout from me, but they’re a storyboard artist and director on Big City Greens, they make a lot of cute shipping art of Jessie and Ash’s mom which is both wholesome and hilarious, and I just think they’re neat :)
@k-eke animations right? But they’re animals. And they’re done on the FLIPNOTE APP ON THE NINTENDO DSI. Howwwwww??????? They’re fantastic with expressions, weight, and follow through in technical terms, and have a very funny sense of humor with their works.
@amberluvsbugs an old coworker, has The Most Talent, is currently working with Mob Entertainment, they know a lot about moths and have this elegant, whispy style to their work that the rococo period could only DREAM of replicating.
I Found During My Nuzlocke Phase:
@pettyartist I think they made the first comic I ever read in highschool, and while they don’t do it anymore I still keep up with their works.
@protocol00 was also one of the first comics I read, their artstyle changed dramatically overtime for the better, they’ve had a lot of improvement over the years! They don’t post as often any more so it’s like a delicious morsel when they do.
@kynimdraws was the reason I started to get into digital art in the first place. I followed their black and white comics intensely, and I appreciate that they wrote N like the freak he is ❤️
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