#just chapters that add background to the story

[luna-azzurra]

How to Make the Ultimate Playlist for Your Novel 🎧✨

Writing a novel is all about vibes, and what better way to get in the zone than by crafting a playlist that captures every moment, every emotion, and every heart-flipping scene? Whether you’re in the middle of writing or just dreaming about your characters, having a playlist can seriously bring your story to life.

Figure Out the Mood of Your Novel 🎶

Every novel has an overall mood - you know, that feeling that sticks with you after reading a chapter. Is your book sweet and romantic, or is it packed with suspense and action? Maybe it’s nostalgic and bittersweet. Whatever the mood is, your playlist should reflect that.

Imagine if your book was a movie, what kind of songs would play during the opening scene? Is it more of a soft, acoustic vibe with someone staring out of a rainy window? Or is it blasting pop-punk as your characters road-trip down the highway?

Pro Tip, Pick a theme song for your novel. This is the one track that feels like it could be the heart of your book. Every time you hear it, you’ll be transported straight into your world. 🎧✨

Find Songs for Your Main Characters 💖

Let’s be real, every character deserves their own theme song. You know your characters better than anyone, what would their personal soundtrack be? Is your main character a hopeless romantic who blasts Taylor Swift on repeat? Or are they more of an, Billie Eilish (Ps:I Love Billie) kind of person? Find songs that capture their personality, their struggles, and their growth throughout the novel.

Character A (The Dreamer): Their playlist is full of soft, dreamy ballads like “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard. Character B (The Brooding Love Interest): They’d totally vibe with something like “Sweater Weather” by The Neighbourhood

Match Songs to Key Scenes 🎬

Think about it, When your characters finally have that emotional, heart-wrenching argument, what song plays in the background of your mind? When they share their first kiss, is it something soft and sweet, or fiery and passionate? The right song can totally enhance the mood of your scenes, even if you’re just listening while you write.

Big Fight Scene? Go for something intense, like “Control” by Halsey.

The Breakup Scene? You can’t go wrong with a tear-jerker like “Drivers License” by Olivia Rodrigo.

Add Your Personal Favorites 🎧

This playlist is your baby, so don’t forget to throw in some of your personal faves. If a song speaks to you, even if it doesn’t seem to fit perfectly at first glance, add it anyway. Sometimes, the most random songs end up being the ones that make the most sense as you write. Plus, having your favorite songs on the playlist will keep you inspired and motivated to dive into your story.

Don’t feel pressured to make the “perfect” playlist from the start. It’s a process. You’ll probably discover new songs that fit your novel as you go, and that’s totally fine.

[screamlet]

new fic: what are your intentions?

aka the bucktommy wip that ate my life! it is a Long Fic

pairings: buck/tommy, tommy/omc's, canon background pairings rating: E, word count: 22k (out of ~130k total) status: complete (see below for posting schedule) tags: tommy pov, canon compliant, character study, queer themes/culture, angst, hurt/comfort, internalized homophobia, found family- THE WORKS. with a happy ending because i wouldn't do that to you.

Summary:

It's Tommy and Buck—the family they find and the family they make.

Excerpt:

"Alright, you creeps, it's Evan Buckley," Tommy calls out to the hangar. Donato chokes on her coffee and gets it all over her flight suit. "Him?" Katelynne, one of their medics, walks over excitedly. "Donato, that's him, right? Worst drunk kiss in the LAFD Buckley?" "Wait, that Buckley?" Harris, another medic, calls out. "Crushed by a truck Buckley? At the 118?" Tommy points at them. "Just Buck." He looks at Donato in particular and adds, "You get one sloppy seconds joke for the entirety of your human life and that's it." Donato laughs. "Are you kidding? That was sloppy firsts. I was worried he'd never find someone with game like that." Tommy, suddenly incredibly defensive of Evan's honor, crosses his arms over his chest. "He's got game." There's a long, expectant pause. "Which I don't have to describe to you because it's private," Tommy finishes.

Posting schedule:

Story's done but I'm posting a chunk every few days so I have time to proofread/edit between drops. Dates/word counts might change.

Chapters 1-4 (22k): 9/21 (today!) 5-8 (22k): 9/25 9-12 (24k): 9/29 13-15 (20k): 10/3 16-19 (26k): 10/7 20-23 (16k): 10/11

[jcollinswrites]

How the fudge are you writting so fast??? I sit down to write and end up with nothing or reworking plot instead of writing 😭Have any tips you want to share? Perhaps the ingredients to the dark ritual you perform to get the motivation and remain focused 👀👀👀

So, first of all, you'll need half a newborn, shaken, not stirred…

lol jk (don't shake babies)

Believe it or not I'm the same as you, so here are some stuff that helped me tremendously, especially with my squirrel ADHD brain:

NUMBER ONE that I needed 20 years to learn, is that… forget editing, man. You can't edit if there is nothing to edit, so first you have to sit ya ass down and just fuckin' do it. It doesn't matter if it's shit at first. It's called work in progress for a reason. Who cares if it's shit? You can edit it LATER when the whole thing is already done. What you're reading in my game is literally my first draft. Lots of scenes might change later. In fact, I'm already changing scenes in the background, I'm just not always telling you. It doesn't matter. If anyone gives you shit for it, tell them to kindly fuck right off.

Have a plan for the book (written down. Not just in your head). Don't even start writing until you have a plan for the entire book. It doesn't have to be detailed. Mine is just bulletpoints, but you should know which chapter will contain what, including plot points, character development, relationship progress etc, otherwise you'll get lost, especially in a big IF. And then as you get closer to the next chapter, you can work out more details in the plan to help the actual writing.

If you don't feel like writing a scene, then don't write it. Leave a placeholder word there (I use 'mandarin' because that word likely won't come up anywhere else in the text), and instantly move on to another scene that you have inspiration for. Later, you can just search for 'mandarin' and add the scene when you feel like it. If you accidentally come across any MANDARINs in my game, that's the reason lol.

If you are writing an IF, it helps to start simple. Write the story until a choice comes up, then write the title of the choices, and continue ONLY with the route you feel the most inspired for atm (use mandarin for the rest). Don't let your momentum die by getting bogged down in choices. That's why I have so many greyed out choices when I start a new origin or chapter. I just write write write until the end of the chapter, THEN I go back to whatever choice is the simplest to add, and put the variations in the already-existing text if needed. Repeat until all the choices are written and coded in. This way, the text might feel more organic too, because you already have a pre-written skeleton that you can just add variations in.

Keep notes. It helps to have them on paper, next to you, so f.ex. when you make 9 different deities to choose from, you don't have to go back to the beginning of the chapter every single time to look up which deities those were and what they mean, you can simply turn your head to the side lol.

Take regular breaks. Exercise, stretch. Keep a daily schedule. Eat and drink enough. Try to keep a good health. Your brain won't work if it's starved.

Know yourself and your habits, and be honest with yourself. I know of myself that once I start working on the big plot points, I won't have any motivation to come back to the beginning again. That's why I'm writing all the origin stories first, because I know that if I start going into chapter 2, I definitely won't feel like coming back to start yet another route from the very beginning. So if you don't feel like doing something, then just… don't do it. Or do it simpler. Do it smarter. Trick that asshole brain into cooperating.

Last but not least, guys, 90% of my motivation COMES FROM YOU! Your engagement, your messages, your feedback, every little interaction is what keeps me going! So write me! I will answer! (if you aren't a dick). Literally, about anything. Even if it's just "hey I really liked this small detail here", that will already make my day, seriously. I LOVE talking about my work, and I'm pretty sure every author is like that, so keep engaging with writers, because that's 90% of the reason when a novel gets finished! I'm writing for YOU! Your enjoyment, your fun, because I love telling stories, but those stories don't mean anything if no one is reading them.

[pttucker]

"Yeah, well, sure. You have your reasons. Honestly, I knew you'd say no, anyway." "What? Why?" Han Sooyoung's sigh-filled replies were followed up by Yoo Joonghyuk. "Because that's how you operate, you fool." Looking at him glaring back at me with his usual eyes, I instantly realized what these two had to give up for my sake. Right. This was how I lived my life. And it was not how Han Sooyoung or Yoo Joonghyuk lived theirs. "…Sure, this type of method does suit the stupid Story of < Kim Dokja's Company > the best. I'm definitely recording today's events in my memoir later. Obviously, after surviving this place, that is." "You better worry about what to do next, instead." Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk, two very different people. I realized something just then. I managed to get this far because these two lived on their own terms – respected my decisions in their own ways. I began thinking; with these two around, maybe not all hope was lost, after all.

Dokja finally acknowledging the power he has over not just his group in general, but these two specifically.

The two people who've actually managed to make it to the Final Scenario on their own in other worldlines and who still defer to him, the guy who's still not certain how this is all going to turn out.

Oh man, I just love seeing the three of them become a true team.

Our little group of Main Characters.

[autisticmight]

27k and i think i might have to restart this fic

[xawkward-ariesx]

When he appears in her hotel room while she’s prepping a spell she wants to strangle him. She settles on a sneer instead.

Chapter One, back to you everytime.

[kitsuneisi]

I realize a Hermitcraft/Life Series based AU is inherently low on representation of people of color due to the playerbase, and appreciate the intent of adding a Black OC to the DDVAU comic. However, that choice does mean the one Black character we've seen in any of the comics is a villain?

Including more Black OCs who aren't villains, and/or including BigB as a character alongside his fellow Life Series members, would be something to consider to alleviate the implications of "only person of [marginalized identity] is a bad guy"

I understand the concern you present but it is important to remember that DDVAU takes place in an original universe to introduce an original story. The au exists as a way to expand and introduce this universe that we have previously created, where there are major characters, good and bad, of all colors and backgrounds. If u are interested to know more about the original story, here is the cast, ranging from the characters in nexus, the emerald soldiers, and neutral characters, all which we hope we can add in the future episodes. The full original cast includes a lot of marginalized identities on differing sides to create the more fleshed out original world, and not just one Black OC as a villain. Ceecee, the character who appeared in this chapter, is a mutant with mushroom/fungi powers, so his addition is for plot more than anything. He’s more than just an OC made to be a villain in this episode/comic, and has a more fleshed out and complex role in the original story he’s from. That said, we don't want to give spoilers of the other characters and their backstories in this ask, cuz we want to explore it properly in the comic. We want to show the characters of the story (At least their designs) to ease your concerns. DDVAU and the original story, Vigilantes, as we have stated before, is a story about my and maru's experience as latinos, not only in our countries history but also in our experience in english speaking spaces This is just the beginning of the story.

[ikeuverse]

NEW BEGINNINGS — l.heeseung

PAIRING: dad!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, a pinch of angst  WC: 8.7k+

WARNINGS: mention of unwanted pregnancy, turbulent relationship, drinking, some swearing. let me know if i've forgotten anything too.

SYNOPSIS: flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.

NOTES: i think this turned out a lot cuter than i intended. initially it was going to be very short, but i wanted to add a bit of plot and maybe add a one chapter or two to it to give more attention to yn with the little one and the development of her relationship with heeseung. i hope you like it!

part 2 | masterlist

Studying abroad for your university degree was a dream. Spending two years in Barcelona seemed like such a distant dream, but in the blink of an eye, you were already on Spanish soil. And as if that were fast enough, those years passed so quickly that before you knew it, you were back in the apartment you shared with your younger brother.

Sighing, you threw yourself on the sofa and let the tiredness of the trip take over. Smelling the familiar scent of Jay's cologne that hadn't completely disappeared.

Being back was incredible. Now, finally, you could work in your field and be close to your family too. It hadn't been that long, but you still felt sad not just because you missed them, but because you had missed important moments with each of your family members.

Like, for example, when your parents bought their dream house. Lots of rooms to welcome their children and anyone else who wanted to sleep over. A backyard so big that it had room for your father's gardening, a swimming pool, and a small hut where your mother made a studio for whatever artistic thing she was obsessed with at the moment.

You also missed out when Jay started dating her in his final year at university. The girl was simply incredible and you got to know her over a video call, but it still wasn't the same. It was different from his older sister's attitude – even if it was a year apart – where his girlfriend would come over to your parent's house, you'd make a huge fuss and a fake scene of jealousy.

Not that you weren't jealous of Jay, but Heejin was so sweet and loving that all you could do was sigh and smile at her as she introduced herself on her cell phone screen and told you that she was looking forward to meeting you in person.

And Heejin threw such a big party as soon as you arrived. She was in charge of making the snacks and taking them to your mother's house, telling you so much about her that you were dizzy, smiling from ear to ear at the girl's excitement. Jay watched in the background, laughing now and then when you looked at him, silently congratulating you on having found someone as nice as her.

"Do you like chicken? I learned how to make this chicken paste last week and Jay loved it, I think you'll like it too" she said shyly, handing over one of the snacks she'd brought.

And she got it right. You loved it so much that you even asked Heejin to make it the next time you two met. Which never took long because she was always at her apartment with Jay or her parents' house.

It seemed that as well as being a sister-in-law, you had found a very good friend.

"I'm home" Jay announced loudly as soon as he walked through the living room door, making you abandon your thoughts completely as you jumped onto the sofa "Did I scare you?" he laughed as he looked at you, messing up your hair before walking past you and straight into the kitchen.

You stood up, walked over to where he was, and leaned against the doorframe to watch your brother get a bottle of water from the fridge.

"So" Jay turned to you, his breathing a little labored and you noticed that he was completely sweaty "I came running because it's going to rain, don't think nonsense" he warned you, noticing that your expression began to change as soon as you saw his state.

Your laughter filled the kitchen along with Jay's, and he walked over to the worktop and sat down on it.

"I didn't think anything" you held up your hands to defend yourself, biting your lower lip to hold back another laugh "I got home from mom's a while ago, I was lying there thinking about so many things."

"About what, for example?" Jay came around the counter and sat on the stool behind you. This forced you to get down and turn around to face him, watching your brother still enjoying his cold bottle of water.

"About how, even though I love Barcelona, I've missed out on a lot with you all here."

"Come on, y/n. We've already had this conversation" Jay warned.

And it was true. He knew how much you wanted to complete your fashion course abroad, but at the same time, you didn't want to leave your parents. Jay chose to stay, earning well-deserved recognition at the gastronomy school in the city itself while supporting you every second.

"I know, but I can't get this weight off of me" you pursed your lips, forming a pout that he grimaced at.

"How about we go out so you can forget about it?" Jay proposed, seeing you try to hide a smile as he leaned over the counter and took your hand "Come on, I still have some friends you know who are dying to meet you again."

"Who, for example?" you asked.

Jay seemed to think for a moment, remembering all the people from his college that you knew. Even though you only studied with Jay for a short time, it wasn't enough to get to know all his friends or maintain a lasting friendship with them. Since your brother was well known, you were afraid that he would approach you just to get to him.

"Sailor will be there" Jay shrugged, knowing that she was the first girl you'd made friends with on the design course, "and that insufferable Jake."

"Oh, my little brother will be there?" you smiled dreamily, seeing Jay roll his eyes.

"Little brother? That son of a bitch is just my childhood best friend, not your little brother, y/n."

You laughed so loudly that you saw Jay shrug his shoulders as he did so. Going around the counter, you hugged your brother and laid your head on his shoulder, sighing a little lighter after talking to Jay. It always calmed you down.

"I'm going to love hanging out with them, and especially with you."

Jay kissed the top of your head and you could feel him smile with his lips up there after he returned your embrace. His fingers were cold from the bottle he was holding, now gripping your body as he got up from the bench to stand next to you.

"So get ready, because we have this program every Friday. And you're part of it from now on" he said, pulling away from you and telling you that he was going to take a shower because it was too sticky.

You just agreed, thinking of preparing something to eat with your brother after he got out of the shower. And you started to get a little more excited until Friday arrived to meet up with some friends again, and finally go out with your brother after so long.

"Why do you spray so much perfume?" you almost shouted from your room as Jay passed you in the hallway of the apartment, stopping walking and heading straight for your door.

"I sprayed it a couple of times" he said "Okay, four" he corrected after noticing your serious countenance looking at him "I get nervous every time I go to meet Heejin, so…"

"That's cute" your lip formed into a pout, beckoning him into your room while you finished getting ready "But I don't think she'll care how smelly you are or not. Considering we're going to a nightclub."

"You're right" Jay tried to relax, throwing himself onto your bed in a lazy way. "It's just that I never stop thinking about how much I can impress her since we started dating, you know? It's so different."

"How different?"

Having these conversations with Jay was something you loved, mainly because it felt like he was older and not you. So listening to him ramble on about something or even vent about anything made the two of you feel even closer to each other.

Hearing how in love your brother was made you so happy and smiley, even more so because every time he mentioned Heejin, or even you said her name or said you were talking to her, Jay sighed. A complete fool in love, you joked.

He never denied it because he really was. And it was clear every time you saw the two of them together since you arrived. Holding hands, caresses and hugs, declarations and compliments. Something so loving that there wasn't even room to tease your brother about how sweet he was being.

"We can go now" you said after a while when Jay again told you how he felt about Heejin. And how he was afraid of losing her.

Your role as older sister was to make sure that your younger brother was doing a great job and that he was an amazing guy. Not to mention that the two of them got along very well and had your approval, so that was enough.

Jay left that apartment so happy that he was smiling to the parking lot, then with you to the club to meet the rest of his friends. He didn't even notice the smile, only when he arrived and felt his jaw aching after talking to you so much.

"Hold my hand so you don't get lost until we find the guys, okay?" you just agreed as you headed for the entrance to the club and Jay gave you the names for access.

Entering the venue, you and your brother had to dodge a few – a lot – of people dancing back and forth, others trying to make conversation with both you and him, but backing away when they saw you holding hands. You caught a scream in your throat and then laughed along with him, people probably thought you and Jay were a couple because you were holding hands. Ew.

"Finally!" the voice shouted from ahead and you looked over Jay's shoulder.

With his free hand, your brother nodded and then continued to approach until you were close enough to let go of your hand.

"I thought you weren't coming" Jake ruffled Jay's hair as he approached the group, hearing the boy's curses before turning his eyes to you "Little sister!"

"Little brother!" you replied with the same excitement, only for both of you to tease Jay, who was cursing at both of you. Jake was quick to run towards you and hug you.

"Don't ever travel that long again, I've missed you so much" he whispered while still hugging you.

"I promise I'll take you with me next time" his smile widened so much that you swore his cheeks were sore from smiling so much.

Saying hello to Sailor, your only friend from university, was something you were looking forward to. She had been one of the only people at the beginning of your school year before you moved to another country, who came to talk to you without any interest in your brother. Sailor was so nice, communicative, and giggly. The two of you got on so well that even when you moved to Barcelona, contact wasn't lost. Your happiness was undeniable when Jay told you that she was still in the group of friends, now as Jake's girlfriend.

Sunghoon was another friend of the boys that you got to know as well, arriving close to high school where he was drafted onto the soccer team that Jay and Jake played on. Of course, the three of them would become friends. He introduced you to his girlfriend. Joan, it wasn't someone you knew, but she seemed nice because she complimented you a lot and even asked how you were able to put up with a bunch of boys without slapping any of them.

Maybe I slapped you here or there, but I swear I could have done more. Joan's laugh was cute, and Sunghoon's small eyes when he smiled as he listened indicated that this man had been completely snared.

"Hi, y/n. I'm so glad you came" Heejin, your sister-in-law. So beautiful, with a comforting hug and very caring. You remember that, ever since you arrived, she asked Jay if you were all right every day.

"I guess you'll all have to get used to someone else in the group" you told her as you hugged her, tightening your arms around Heejin. She kissed your cheek and then pulled away from your face a little.

"Oh, this is going to be amazing. This way my brother won't feel so lonely" she whispered because she was too close to your face, so her voice wouldn't be hard to hear. You frowned at that, what do you mean her brother?

You hadn't paid attention to the people around you unless they came to greet you. Or you hadn't taken the time to notice who was with your group until your eyes shifted from Heejin's face to focus on the male figure next to the three boys.

Of course, you'd heard about Heejin's brother and even seen some pictures of him with Jay on social media. But you were so focused on your studies or even on finding out how your brother was doing that you didn't even have the luxury – or the time – to go and find out who Jay's new friends were, apart from the ones you already knew.

Heejin gradually moved away from you and, at the same moment, the only boy who hadn't said hello was waving to the boys and heading towards you and your sister-in-law. He couldn't take his eyes off you and you couldn't take your eyes off him, it was as if neither of you wanted to miss each other's next move.

"Hi" what a voice that is, my God. You wanted to shout to yourself "I'm Heeseung."

Heeseung, of course. The name wasn't strange. Considering how many stories Jay posted with Heeseung, who was always at parties with your brother.

"Hi, I'm y/n" even if he knew her name, it wouldn't hurt to introduce yourself, right?

By now Heejin had already stepped aside and let you talk to Heeseung, but you hadn't even bothered.

"Now I have someone to keep me company," Heeseung smiled and you swore you let out a loud sigh, but because of the volume of the music he hadn't heard. Good!

"Why? Are they that bad?" you asked Heeseung.

He leaned a little towards you, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he shrugged in the process. Heeseung's breath smelled of strawberries, so maybe he'd had a drink before you arrived.

"Wait until everyone's drunk" he whispered, "You can bet on which couple gets the hottest out of all of them."

"Can we bet money? Me and you?" your eyes lit up at the word bet, looking like a child who had just heard the most magnificent thing in the world.

Heeseung wanted to ignore the way he was smiling so much, feeling his heart skip a beat with your smile and your gaze so close to him. Even though he had leaned towards you just to talk. He wanted to think so, after all, you were all out clubbing, and if he wanted to have a conversation with you, he'd have to get closer.

And because you were so beautiful and smelled so good, he was simply attracted.

"I didn't bring that much money today" Heeseung pursed his lips "But we can bet drinks at the bar, what do you say?"

"Will you buy me one?"

"Now? Of course" of course, he had to stop this "I need to show you the best drink in this place before you get hooked."

"Do the honors, then" you smiled back at him, almost shouting when Heeseung's hand gently touched your back. Even though no skin was exposed because your shirt covered most of it, his fingers seemed to have shocked the spot.

Heeseung felt a warmth emanating from his fingertips and wondered if he had overstepped any boundaries since he had touched – even on your back – without your permission. But as soon as you started walking, being guided by him, the boy saw no problem in following you with his hand still touching you.

"Hey, Mingi" Heeseung waved to the bartender as soon as you and he arrived at the bar. From the intimacy, the place seemed to be frequented quite often by him and your brother's friends. The man behind the bar waved cheerfully.

"The usual?"

"Actually, I'll have a Rum Punch" Heeseung's slurred accent almost made you sigh again, but you held back only because he held your gaze even though he was talking to the bartender in front of you "For this young lady here."

"Oh, new here?" Mingi began to prepare the drink, showing off his skills with the utensils and how to stir that metal glass that you didn't even know didn't spill a drop.

"I've been away for two years" your voice came out a little louder than you would have liked, but Mingi smiled and shook his head "I'm Jay's sister."

"No kidding!" he seemed shocked by the information and you almost asked if it was bad to be Jay's sister or something "Jongseong, that ugly guy, has such a beautiful sister?"

Shit, your cheeks started to heat up. But you couldn't tell if it was because of Mingi's compliment or because Heeseung's hand slid from your back to your waist. He was still touching you, and it didn't seem to bother him or you.

"Here, Miss Park" he smiled after placing the glass on the counter, "enjoy the best of our bar."

You thanked him and took the glass, turning to face Heeseung.

"I hope you like it because, honestly, it would suck to say this is the best drink and have you hate it" he pressed his lips together, looking a little apprehensive about your reaction. You laughed at how cute he looked, agreeing with a little nod.

Touching your lips to the glass, you took a small sip just to test it out. As Heeseung said, it would be a shame for you to hate something that he advertised so much. But no, you loved it! And your murmur of approval only made his smile grow even wider, so you took another long sip before offering it to him.

"Come on, have some since you introduced me to it" you smiled at him as you tilted the glass for Heeseung to take. But he seemed too busy still holding your waist, with both hands this time. One on either side of you, making you want to scream and at the same time take a step forward and stand so close to him.

That drink wasn't taking effect that quickly, but it was Heeseung's fingers on your body that were making you like this.

So you held your breath a little when he leaned over, touching his lips to the glass and looking at you. A silent request for you to turn the contents just right because he wanted to drink from your hand. Heeseung wanted you to give him the drink.

And you did.

You carefully turned that glass until he had a good sip and then turned away to wipe his lips with the tip of his tongue and moan in satisfaction at the liquid going down his throat.

"Like I said, y/n" he said, his eyes wandering around the club and then finding you again. Heeseung leaned close enough so that his face was close to yours – for the second time that night – and his gaze quickly fell to your mouth "This is the best drink in the bar, and the night is going to be so long that we can try as many as you want" why had he whispered that part? Why was Heeseung whispering while staring at your lips?

You just nodded, sipping some more of that good, newfound liquid, as you felt him pull you into the middle of the dance floor.

The boy was right, it was going to be a long night.

You didn't know that your sister-in-law was a graduate in the same field as you at university in Barcelona. You also didn't know that you would receive an offer from the studio where she worked and, a few days later, be hired.

You also didn't know that your relationship with Heeseung had become pure flirtation, smiles in each other's direction and gentle touches on the hands, waist, and even long hugs when he went to pick up Heejin and ended up giving you a lift too. Or when he went to visit Jay to play video games in his living room. You also didn't know that you would let Heeseung lean his head on your shoulder and fall asleep so deeply on the first night of movies in your shared apartment with your brother after Sunghoon said he didn't want to go clubbing that day.

Everything was going so differently from what you had envisioned for your return to the city, but no way could describe the way you felt with Heeseung. Because it was different, wasn't it? You felt that way.

Because you didn't feel a chill in your stomach when Jake laid his head on your lap after coming home from work, or you didn't feel your face heat up after Sunghoon kissed the top of your head when you all decided to meet up for dinner. So why did you feel those things with Heeseung? He also lay on your lap, he also kissed the top of your head. But only he was able to take away your sleep some nights, resulting in you being almost late for work and hearing Heejin ask if everything was okay.

"Jongseong was playing late again?" she asked angrily, making you laugh.

Thinking about your brother, you wanted to answer but settled for pressing your lips together to avoid smiling.

"I've just had a bad night" your lips quickly curled into a pout and she imitated you.

"I know someone who can help you with that" Heejin hummed, picking up her cell phone and typing a few things as she watched you go to your desk.

Trying to stop her from talking to Heeseung was practically impossible, as she and Jay did a great job of making you feel awkward in front of him. But not in a bad way, not at all. The two of them only managed to make you shyer and shyer every time something happened.

Do you need help with the popcorn in the kitchen? Heeseung, help y/n. I'm watching the movie with your sister.

Are you going out for dinner? Heeseung and y/n sit next to each other, their seats already assigned.

When you all decided to go to the amusement park together and he wasn't too keen on entering the castle of horrors? My sister will hold your hand and, if the fear goes away, you can kiss her as a reward. Jay's sentence could have been a whisper only to him and Heeseung, but because you were so close, it was sure to have been heard.

"Y/n, I… I'm sorry—" you took his hand, entwining your fingers in Heeseung's as you smiled at the boy.

"You heard my brother, right?" now Heeseung felt even more courageous with your words. So he could kiss you after everyone had passed through that castle of horrors? Surely he wouldn't miss it.

But he did.

As soon as you all left, Heeseung received a call that he urgently needed to go home. You didn't object and the others seemed to understand perfectly when the boy said goodbye, you being the only one who received a quick kiss on the cheek before he ran out of the park.

"I wonder what happened?" Sailor asked as you all started walking to the park's next attraction.

"Maybe it's because of Aimi, he said he'd be alert in case he needed to go home" Jake intertwined his fingers with Sailor's and walked beside her.

Just then, you stopped. Wait, Aimi? Heeseung had someone else? No, it couldn't be.

All that time you two were exchanging, you were being part of a betrayal? Holy shit. It couldn't be possible.

The whole situation put a lump in your throat and your stomach began to churn. You walked with your friends out of sheer habit, seeing that they were all in the queue for the rollercoaster. By instinct, Jay looked in your direction and saw how scattered you were, walking over to stand next to you.

"It's just a rollercoaster, you know? You don't have to be scared" he joked, laughing a little as he put his arm around your shoulders.

Trying to be gentle, you pushed his arm away, starting to feel a weight on your chest that you didn't even know existed.

"I… I'm going home" your voice came out shaky. Shit, don't do that, y/n!

"What? Y/n, is everything all right?" Jay looked at you now rather worriedly, holding you by the shoulders and, once again, feeling your hands drop as you walked away.

Your brain didn't process the fact that your legs were quickly pulling you out of there, walking away from the roller coaster queue while you listened to the boys calling you. You ignored it completely and walked to the parking lot where you tried to look for your brother's car since Heeseung had left and you had gone with him to the park.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit" the curses were starting to flood out of you as your eyes stung, but you weren't going to cry. Not because of that.

For God's sake, the two of you hadn't even kissed, why feel so stupid?

"Y/n, I found you!" Jay was panting behind you, having stopped running and feeling his heartbeat speed up even more from the little exercise he'd done to find you.

He then walked towards you very slowly, trying to catch his breath and testing whether he could do it since you had pushed him away twice in less than a minute.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked "It was the rollercoaster game—"

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" you interrupted him.

Jay frowned in response, glancing at you as soon as you stopped right in front of him and caught a glimpse of your face in the dim light of the amusement park parking lot. He saw your watery eyes and knew you could cry at any moment.

"What about?" he asked you again, and you realized that it couldn't be that he knew either since, in your brother's mind, you were like that for the roller coaster. But wasn't it obvious that it was for Heeseung? It didn't make sense.

Your chest ached a little more when you remembered his static face when you left quickly and how your friends commented on the girl so naturally that it was as if you weren't there.

You opened and closed your mouth, tried to say something and nothing came out the way you wanted it to. It sucked that everything was like that. When you finally plucked up the courage to talk to your brother, your phone rang, startling you both.

The handset came out of your back pocket and Heeseung's name flashed up on the screen. You didn't realize the grimace you were making until you looked at Jay and saw that he was waiting for you to pick up, but you didn't. You simply hung up. You simply hung up.

"What's going on?" he kept looking at you.

"Nothing" another ring from Heeseung and you would have hung up if Jay hadn't been quicker and answered on the second ring.

"Hey dude, it's Jay" you could hear Heeseung's voice in the background, but you couldn't understand much of what he was saying. Something seemed to touch the back of your brother's mind because he laughed deeply as he looked at you.

What's funny, asshole? You hissed while he still had your phone to his ear and was talking to Heeseung.

"Maybe that's why, but I'm not the one who's going to explain it to her" your brother's gaze was mixed as Heeseung said a few more words and the two finally hung up.

"What the fuck was that, Jay?"

"Heeseung called me… I mean, he called you to explain why he'd left so quickly" he told you.

"I think Jake already did that" you shrugged, showing how encouraging the conversation was because your sarcastic smile said it all.

"Listen, sis. It's not that—"

"Jay, please don't" you whimpered "I'm feeling terrible because all this time no one told me that Heeseung had someone else and we were acting like…"

"A couple, I know" you really hated it when Jay was able to complete his sentences more directly because maybe you would only respond like two people with more touches "That's exactly why he needs to explain it to you, not me."

"I don't want to listen, thank you."

"But you kind of will" he pursed his lips and put his hands in his trouser pockets, running his tongue over lower lip to suppress a smile "Because every two weeks Heejin and I go to Mom's for lunch, and this time since you're here, I'm going to make a point of calling Heeseung too."

"You wouldn't do that…"

"Oh, I would" Jay smiled this time.

And you knew for sure that your dear brother would be able to do it.

You felt like jumping over the kitchen counter and lunging at Jay, but you were left to stir the chocolate in the pan to make a ganache for dessert. Your brother, smiling even too much, put the tomato slices in the glass dish while looking at you now and then and holding back a laugh.

"Cancel it with him, please" you almost cried, almost got down on your knees to Jay begging him not to come.

"Nope" he hummed, excitedly, "I like having my brother-in-law here. Besides, Mom loves it when he brings Aimi along."

"You're a motherfucker—"

"Hey, why am I being cursed at?" your mother chimed in. Jay burst into laughter and you just rolled your eyes, choosing to forget the conversation.

But your brother seemed to have plans to annoy you all weekend, and it was only Saturday. You wouldn't be able to stand it without hitting him once.

"I was telling y/n about Aimi" Jay said.

"Oh, I miss her so much" your mother said with such love that you rolled your eyes at the melted chocolate just so you wouldn't have to face the two of them who were heaping praise on Aimi.

For God's sake, did they have to do that in front of you? Maybe your mother didn't know what had happened between you and Heeseung, so the poor thing wouldn't be punished by your eyes almost shooting her. But your brother would. That asshole was going to pay dearly for every mention of Aimi's name and the way he openly smiled at you after saying it.

It didn't make sense for Jay to tease you about it, it didn't make sense for any of your friends to be into that sort of thing. Everyone there was dating, so why did things have to go that way with Heeseung?

Had Jay already cheated on Heejin, so he was an accomplice? Or had Jake and Sunghoon also been unfaithful, hence the partnership?

It wasn't easy to get into your head and you spent almost the whole week mulling it over, as well as running away from all Heejin's questions and why you were ignoring her brother.

"I just… I don't know, Heejin" you replied.

But she knew, of course, she knew. The only way to understand what was going on was to ask Jay, and like a good gossip, he would tell his girlfriend. Heejin even thought about clearing up the misunderstanding, but as her boyfriend had said, Heeseung was the one to do it.

So it was easy to convince him to go to lunch at your mother's house. You wanted to think it was because of the pool out back or her food, not because he had to explain something to you because you didn't want to hear it.

You refused to fall for his charms while he explained why he had cheated on you for a long time – totaling a month and a half, unfortunately, you counted – only for you to discover that there was another woman. And it wasn't even Heeseung who told you, it came out of Jake's mouth.

If your friend hadn't said anything at the amusement park, would you have known about her? Or would you continue to be fooled until you kissed Heeseung, fell even more in love and then he left you?

"Shit" you cursed quietly when the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts.

All the food had been ready for a long time and you and your brother had decided to wait, sipping a glass of wine that your mother always left out for you to enjoy while they cooked.

It had to be the Lee siblings, so you decided to fill your glass and lean on the kitchen counter, not having the courage to move your feet as your brother walked past you and smiled with his mouth against the glass he was drinking.

"My love" Jay called out, and you knew it was Heejin he was greeting.

"Heeseung, Aimi!" that was your mother, and your stomach immediately churned at the mention of her name "Y/n, come over here."

I don't want to.

You should answer, that's what you had to do.

But contrary to your thoughts, your feet betrayed you and made you walk to the kitchen door so slowly that you were almost dragging yourself. Perhaps the glass of wine could have helped and stopped you from hugging them both, it would have been a perfect excuse while you just greeted everyone and went back to the kitchen.

As soon as you arrived, your eyes went straight to Heeseung and… A child? Heeseung was holding a little girl in his arms and she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

Dark hair, curious eyes, and flushed cheeks. She closed her little eyes as she smiled when Jay approached to take her in his arms, hearing the most delightful giggle you could ever remember a child having.

"Hey" Heejin greeted you before anyone could say anything. The two boys were very entertained by the little girl, who was mumbling a few things and talking to them, while your mother was already looking for a cartoon channel for her to watch "Are you okay?" your sister-in-law toasted with her full glass, and it was then that you noticed that she was holding Jay's glass.

Your head just nodded, saying nothing until Heeseung's eyes landed on you. He frowned when he saw how much wine was in your glass and you couldn't hide it since, as it was full, any sudden movement to place it behind your body could cause it to tip over.

Jay still had the little one on his lap and held her hand as he turned to you. She smiled in your direction and you tried to smile back, begging the heavens you hadn't made a face to scare the poor thing.

"Hi, y/n" Heeseung said directly to you as soon as you arrived at your mother's house. You shook your head at him, a silent way of saying hello. Your voice would waver if you said anything since it was the first time you'd seen him since the day at the amusement park, so you couldn't risk having a shaky, slurred, or harsh voice. So just a nod would be fine.

"You can choose any cartoon that uncle Jay will watch with you before lunch" Jay raised his hand and the little girl clapped it, making an animated hi-five as you watched your brother walk over to the sofa with her.

Your eyes lingered too long on the two of them animatedly chatting about the colorful cartoon characters that you didn't notice that Heejin had gone to talk to his mother and Heeseung was standing in front of you.

Hands in his pants pockets, hair slightly mussed, and biting his lower lip. He looked a little apprehensive for his taste.

"Y/n…"

"Bathroom" the little girl announced before Heeseung could even finish his sentence. He quickly looked over to where she was sitting and excused himself as he picked her up.

"Ready to use the bathroom?" he had such a beautiful smile when he talked to her that it seemed too encouraging, you almost forgot that you were angry with him "I'll be right back" Heeseung said before disappearing down the corridor in search of the downstairs bathroom.

That's how long it took you to stare at Jay and take a long sip of your wine before you saw him return with the little girl still on his lap.

"I did it, uncle Jay" she celebrated and Jay got up from the sofa, picking her up again.

"You were amazing, you know that? Your dad and I are so proud of you," he said.

Dad?

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming at that moment. The only thought running through your mind when Heeseung was still in the middle of the room but with his gaze fully on you.

"Y/n, that's Aimi" he pointed to the little girl who, as soon as she heard her name called, turned towards him "My daughter. And sweetie, this is y/n, uncle Jay's sister."

"Fuck" you whispered so quietly, not out of indignation, but because there was a child and you couldn't swear at her.

So your only reaction – apart from widening your eyes – was to gulp down all the wine and feel it burn your throat as you ran to the kitchen.

Your luck was that Aimi only nodded for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the drawing she was watching with Jay, so your state of panic hadn't had much effect on her. Unlike Heeseung, who walked in quick, hurried steps to the kitchen to chase after you.

The search for the wine was tireless. That bottle had run out a while ago and all you had to do was find another that your mother kept right there, but no. Those hands stopped you from opening it. Those hands stopped you from opening the mini cellar under the counter and made you turn to him.

"Wine won't help you much" Heeseung whispered to you.

"I just need to… I…"

"You need to sober up because I think we need to talk, don't you?"

Why did he have to whisper everything? And why did Heeseung have a relentless habit of leaning towards you every time he stood in front of you to say something?

"It's okay" was the only thing you managed to say because the next second his lips were on yours. Briefly, a kiss so quick that you couldn't even process the softness of Heeseung's mouth against yours.

"Great choice of wine, by the way" he licked his lips before leaving the kitchen, just as quickly as he came in after you.

Heeseung was right, you two needed to talk. You were just putting it off all day because you felt like a complete idiot, thinking all sorts of bad things about him and your friends when, in fact, Aimi was just a child. And Heeseung's daughter.

All right, he also felt stupid for never mentioning it since the first time you and he started to get even closer, but the real thing was that he was afraid. He didn't want it to always be the same.

You swore that every moment at your parents' house would lead to a conversation with Heeseung because he never took his eyes off you, only to look in on Aimi or help her with something when no adult was doing so. He was such a helpful father and that only made your heart swell even more for that man.

Your mind just didn't process the fact that little Aimi would be clinging to you the moment everyone sat down to lunch.

"Sweetie, let y/n eat…"

"Dad" she pouted as she sat on your lap, smoothing her long hair so that it didn't fall on the plate in front of her.

"It's okay, I think I can help you, can't I, Aimi?"

"Yes" she turned her head to look at you, and that smile like her father's made you smile too.

Aimi was polite, only asked for your help to cut things she had difficulty with, and ate her vegetables without complaining while Heeseung just watched until she finished eating so she could get off your lap. So you could eat right then.

You noticed that Aimi sulked throughout lunch while the others ate until they finished their meal and she held out her arms to you.

"I thought we were going to watch a cartoon" Jay pouted when he saw that Aimi hadn't gone to sit on his lap.

"Actually, uncle Jay thought he'd get away with doing the dishes" you pretended to whisper to Aimi, hearing her giggle immediately afterward "But I think she'd rather stay with auntie y/n now, wouldn't you?"

When she nodded, it was enough for Jay to make a scene in which Aimi laughed even more.

Spending the afternoon with that child was the most incredible thing that could have happened to you over the last few days.

Watching cartoons with Aimi, hearing about colors and how she could count to forty. Or how she knew about animals because uncle Jay had given her a book that made sounds with a magic pen. And he bragged about the compliments in the present.

You felt your heart warm even more when everyone decided to spend time in the back garden, your lap serving as comfort for Aimi who played with the end of your hair until Heeseung signaled that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You didn't mind. She didn't weigh anything, she was cuddling you so comfortably and her little body was sleeping so nonchalantly that you just held her there and paid attention to Heejin's words, who was telling you about something at work.

Your eyes caught Heeseung's from time to time, and he couldn't help smiling as he looked at you and then at Aimi. Your daughter had liked you and that made Heeseung feel better, maybe the fear had passed and he could talk to you.

"Hey, y/n" Heeseung whispered close to your ear. You did everything you could not to move abruptly and not wake Aimi on your lap, so you just looked at him, noticing that his attention was everywhere but on what was happening in front of him.

Now it was your father who was talking about something you and your brother had done during a family vacation. Heejin laughed, asking something and you simply decided to pay attention to the man next to you.

"I can take her inside, I think I'll put her on the sofa because it's getting cold and your arms will go numb afterward" he kept whispering, making you laugh.

"I'll help you" you also whispered, settling Aimi in your arms and getting up with her still on your lap.

This was quite common, considering that Jay was always the one to take Aimi when Heeseung went to family lunches. But now you were there, placing Aimi on the three-seater sofa, wrapping her in cushions, and taking the blanket from Heeseung's hands to cover her carefully.

"She's beautiful" your voice came out so low, the compliment was so natural that you only noticed when Heeseung leaned his shoulder against yours and let out a low laugh.

"I think I did a good job" you laughed along with him, looking away from the little girl to the boy next to you "Do you have some time for me now?"

"Of course."

It couldn't be put off any longer, you knew he wanted to talk too so maybe it was time since everyone was talking outside and Aimi had gone to sleep. It was just you and Heeseung on the other side of the room so as not to wake the little one.

Being on the smaller sofa had never been a problem, but the proximity to him was what was making you apprehensive. Their legs touching each other, Heeseung's hands searching for something to hold, opting to leave it on his knees as he looked across the room. He looked at his daughter.

"It happened in the famous cliché of the first one-night stand in university" he moistened his lips and laughed humorlessly, then looked at you and bit his lower lip "Aimi's mother didn't want to keep her."

"What?" your eyes widened at that. You noticed that he sighed, perhaps he was about to tell you something difficult, so your instinct was to take one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers and showing that you were right there. Next to him, listening very carefully.

He sighed, taking a little more courage.

Heeseung and Jay had met and it wasn't by chance, they had been assigned roommates in university as soon as Heeseung had been admitted to his course. He and the boys have been inseparable ever since.

Like any university party, which you knew your brother was part of, Heeseung also liked to have fun like any other adult who had just been admitted and wanted to enjoy his youth. But irresponsibility got to him.

Unprotected and fruitless sex only happened in the movies his sister watched, because it wasn't like that with him. Months later, the news that the girl was pregnant devastated him and he wasn't sure what to do, but he thought that they could take care of the baby and that he would be there to help her.

That's not what happened. Heeseung lived on threats all that time.

I don't want to keep this baby unless you stay with me.

It was cruel, she was cruel to Heeseung. But what could he do? That woman was carrying his baby and he could only try to do everything to please her until the child was born. Aimi was beautiful from the first minutes of her life and was the joy of the Lee family.

"I think we should break up" that sentence made Heeseung sigh with relief, he knew it wouldn't last in a relationship that he had sustained only for the sake of the child.

Agreeing was the only right thing to do. But he also didn't know that she would give up any contact with the little girl, literally taking away any responsibility, walking out and never getting involved in the little girl's life since birth.

"The guardianship is completely yours, and she will never go near my niece again" Heejin had done everything since the second she found out she was going to be an aunt, and she had done everything could to make sure that woman would never go near Aimi.

Almost three years passed and he thought it would be difficult, but no. Heeseung was a father – solo – but he had such an immense support network, like his friends, his family, and Jay's family. Aimi didn't miss a mother figure in the slightest because she was surrounded by the love he always knew she never lacked.

Heeseung's fear revolved around any relationship that wouldn't accept his daughter, or that the child's mother would somehow resurface trying to give up something she never had a right to just because he was moving on with his life.

"I don't think you need to worry about that" you said in a low tone, letting him breathe a little after telling most – or almost all – of the story, "Heejin made it very clear and you know how much weight her words carry."

Heeseung laughed.

He clasped his hands even tighter in yours, tilting his head to rest his forehead against yours too.

"Believe me, over the years I've tried to get into relationships and one of them said that I spent more time with Aimi than with her."

"What—" you moved away for a few seconds, just long enough to face Heeseung, and then returned to your starting position, leaning your forehead against his "I think the danger now is that I'll be spending more time with her than with you."

"Will I be double-changed?" false indignation in his voice and Heeseung's hands loosened from his for a brief moment. You would have protested at the loss of contact if it hadn't been for his fingers slowly trailing up your cheek "If that's the case, I'll take it just fine."

"Then start thinking about it, Lee Heeseung."

"I'm thinking, Park Y/n" and then his lips met yours halfway.

A slow kiss and the perfect movement of each other's lips in such calm synchronicity. It was as if they both needed it as their tongues moved slowly, tasting the drink from hours ago and how Heeseung's warm muscle curled into yours. Your hands met his on his face, deepening the kiss even more and letting out a sigh when he slid down the sofa to be even closer to you.

That kiss was on another level, you felt like you were in paradise while Heeseung's lips were still on yours.

He slid his mouth along your jaw and down to your neck, small kisses left on your skin making you shiver completely until they were interrupted by a whimper.

You and Heeseung separated very slowly, both of you looking at the other sofa and noticing that Aimi was starting to cry quietly as she stood up, scratching at her eyes and with her hair completely messed up.

Heeseung got up from the sofa where the two of you were, walked over to his daughter, and bent down in front of her.

"Hi my love, did you have a bad dream?" he asked her, the little girl's eyes going to her father and they were completely watery. She held out her arms for him to take her, and so Heeseung did. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked back, with no reply. Aimi still had a pout on her lips and her eyes were almost streaming with the tears she was holding back.

That was enough for you to pout at the scene in front of you, holding back a scream as Aimi looked at you and her eyes lit up.

Her little arms went out towards you so excitedly that she almost threw herself off Heeseung's lap. You quickly got up from the sofa and picked her up, kissing her on the top of the head before making her lie on your shoulder.

"Sweetie?" Heeseung called out after she had snuggled into your lap.

"I want y/n" she said sleepily, yawning as she lay on your shoulder and practically falling back asleep within seconds.

You and Heeseung looked at each other, holding back a laugh as the little one went back to dreamland after being snuggled in your arms. He approached the two of you, kissing Aimi's cheek and then kissing your forehead before placing his own against it. Faces close together.

"I think I'm getting your daughter for myself" you hummed, kissing his lips in the process.

Heeseung laughed, nodding in denial as you moved away to go to the larger sofa in the living room.

He wanted to deny it and play with you, but seeing Aimi on your lap and that scene in front of him, all the fear Heeseung had was gone for sure.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - five.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 9k (as you will see, a lot of stuff happens)

synopsis: When the mission goes south and you end up in the hands of the enemy, Ghost finds himself alone and angry, reflecting on what your presence actually means to him.

warnings: violence, graphic descriptions of torture, occasional swearing, mentions of smoking, hurt/comfort, slight happy-ending, Ghost being angry and tortured by his inner demons, military inaccuracies

notes: So this is it - the finale of a series that was initially meant to be a one shot consisting of several random fluff-filled scenes. I am actually quite satisfied with how the story turned out, although I have to warn you that this chapter is longer than usual because it consists of several pure narrative parts (background descriptions and such).

If you need therapy after reading this, just dm me the bills and I'll work something out :)

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

five.

To say Ghost was angry would have been an understatement. He was fuming, his heavy breathing being the only sound that filled the now-silent room. Even after half an hour had passed, the burning feeling in his chest did not fade away, serving instead as a reminder of his helplessness. He was angry at Laswell for pairing you up with the younger sniper team. He was furious with Price for his decision to not go after you the moment your radio stopped working...

But in the end, he was livid with himself for not being there to protect you in the first place.

He couldn’t shake the guilt that ate him from inside like a parasite, and as the seconds turned into minutes which would be bound to turn into hours, he felt the weight of his inaction suffocating him like he was the one under torture. Clenching his jaw, he began to stomp around the living room of the safe house. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife and, as he felt the concerned looks of the others on him, Ghost couldn’t help but replay the events of the past 36 hours in his mind.

He felt he had failed you when it mattered most, but he was determined to set things straight and bring you back unharmed.

Or at least alive and breathing.

--- 28 hours earlier

The sky was painted in golden hues by the time you left the briefing room, the morning air being a cold, yet comforting sensation that welcomed you when you got out of the main base building. Your mind was reeling with a plethora of classified intelligence and even more questions, but at least your adrenaline levels were high enough to chase any remnants of sleep away.

It had been almost a day since you left your apartment, but you weren't in a rush to go back. You would have to pack for the next mission anyway, and the given approximation of "an undefined amount of time" was an additional reason to delay the task. Instead, you went to the only place where you knew you'd find Ghost at this hour: the unofficial smoking spot of the base, named after the lack of security cameras in the area.

And there he was, perched on a plastic chair that made him look comically big and threatened to barely hold his weight. His mask was raised to his nose, highlighting a prominent jawline, peppered with faint scars and a hint of blonde stubble. Involuntarily, your eyes focused on his plump lips and the way they were wrapped around the cigarette, its burning tip glowing orange with each drag he took. His eyes were focused on a random point on the ground, but you knew he had heard you coming- his body had unconsciously shifted towards you, his legs adopting an open stance, almost as if to greet you.

"Thought you said you'd quit", you teased him in a soft tone, dragging a chair and sitting next to him. You opened your mouth to add something but were taken aback when you saw his lips curl up in a gentle smile, accompanied by a weak laugh.

There was no humour in it, but that did not stop you from relishing in the rare sight of Ghost's grin, your eyes once again focusing on the faint scar that rested on his lower lip. You didn't know the story behind it, nobody but Price did, yet that didn't stop you, Soap and Gaz to come up with scenarios of your own, one less likely than another.

"You're staring!", he remarked in a gravelly tone, blowing out a huff of smoke.

You knew it was wrong, but you secretly enjoyed second-hand smoking when he was around. He was too stubborn to let you try one of his cigarettes, always arguing about the negative impact on your health, but it was not like he could forbid you from keeping him company. The traces of smoke in his scent were an integral part of him and sometimes you just couldn't get enough of it, your lungs always begging for more.

"I'm not!", you eventually countered, taking a deep breath in. "And you did not answer the question!"

"It wasn't a question!", he argued back with a serious expression, his lips now forming a straight line.

"You know what I mean!"

You also knew that the banter you two had going on was meant to keep him away from the edge that would send Simon away and bring back Ghost. You'd already seen glimpses of him back in the briefing room when Laswell brought you up to date on the details of the mission. Just as you were witnessing Simon now, smoking half a pack of cigarettes in a desperate attempt to keep the deadly persona of the 141 Lieutenant away for as long as possible.

"Can I try one?", you went on with the distraction, already knowing his answer.

"No." - his answer was definitive, his clipped tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Huffing in annoyance, you crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brow, slightly scrunching your nose. He did not seem to be fazed by your childish outburst and instead, inhaled deeply, cheeks hollowing as he drew in the smoke. The exhale came shortly after, grey tendrils of smoke escaping his parted lips before he decided to speak again:

"Wanna hear something funny?"

You were already aware of Ghost's penchant for what he called "dad jokes", but what actually were just really bad puns, although, with him, they often had the tendency to turn out darker than expected. That was why you had to carefully pick your answer because you did not want to have Ghost on the bad side before going into mission - either because you refused to listen to a pun, or because of your reaction to it.

"I'm really not sure…", you shook your head, struggling to avoid eye contact.

As expected, he went on regardless of your answer.

"What do you call cigarettes you find in a thrift shop?"

A faint smirk was profiling on his lips again as he was clearly waiting for your reaction before delivering the pun.

"Go on, tell me", you eventually nudged him, rolling your eyes in fake pretence.

"Second hand smokes."

You struggled to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread on your face, but eventually, you ended up looking to the ground and shaking your head in defeat. Another low chuckle was heard from Simon, yet when you looked back at him, the cigarette butt was already in the ashtray and his balaclava was back on. You let out a deep sigh, your lips forming a pout, but you accepted his extended hand, allowing him to lift you from the chair.

"Come on, I'll drive you home. Price said the plane leaves at 1300 hours which leaves us with… exactly 6 hours and 45 minutes to get our things in order."

"Can't wait for it!", you let out an ironic huff, a shiver going down your spine upon hearing a hushed laugh in reply.

You and Ghost were in a good place. You could only hope this would last.

---

"Sergeant L/N, these are Privates Reynolds and Jones! They will be accompanying you on this mission as a sniper, respectively a spotter!"

From the instant you set eyes on him, you knew Captain Price had chosen the tarmac to make the introduction with a firm reason in mind. Perhaps it was the thunderous roar of the engines or the massive air currents caused by the propellers of the military aircraft you were about to board, but you could tell the atmosphere was intimidating enough for the two young men that they could only hold your gaze for so long before nodding their heads in acknowledgement.

"This is Sergeant L/N and she is going to be your mentor and leader for the duration of this mission", Price went on, his tone mercilessly cold.

The previous night he'd been a friendly face, "the dad of the group", as you drunkenly mentioned him in the toast, but that day he was the Captain of one of the most lethal Task forces there had been. And with that position came no room for mistakes or second thoughts.

"You will listen to her, no matter the situation. She tells you to shoot, you shoot. She tells you to hide, you hide. Hell, she tells you to come out and surrender, you do just that if you want to come home in one piece and not in a body bag!"

And he had a tendency to be slightly dramatic sometimes. Yet it was well-intended: you could only remember the "pep-talk" he'd given you before your first mission, after having placed you in the care of one of the most deadly operators you've ever seen, also known to others as "the big boy with a skull face"; that mission had gone sideways minutes after it had begun and you ended up saving yourself and the Lieutenant twice just by being high on energizers and adrenaline.

You and Ghost did not talk about that.

"Good to meet you, boys!", you shook their hands with a firm grip before nodding them into the direction of the aircraft. "You should go and buckle up. I'll be joining you soon!"

"Yes ma'am!", they answered in unison, shooting each other a cryptic look before heading in the direction of the plane.

You and Price caught that, but before being able to talk about it, you were interrupted by the big boy with the skull face himself:

"Those are the boys Y/N's supposed to be babysitting?"

Ghost was not one to mince words, even on a good day. Perhaps, at one point in the past, he had simply decided that hiding behind a wall of well-chosen words was not worth it, or he simply preferred to make himself understood from the beginning. And when opposing something, as he was at that moment, he did not bother to hide it:

"You're lucky they're not in your care!", you decided to steer the conversation in another direction. "I don't know where Laswell found them, but I bet at least one's dad has stars on his shoulders!"

Neither you, nor Ghost liked Price's lingering silence, but you didn't show it. You trusted Kate well enough to know she would have ensured they posed no real threat to your safety and the mission's success before having them join you on the field.

What actually bothered you was that it all happened on such short notice. You barely had time to bounce back from the previous assignment before having to start a new, high-risk, high-stakes one. You were aware of your limits and confident enough that you could pull this one off - but having to look after another two people you met a couple of hours before going into the field? Sure, you knew your limits, but did they know theirs?

"Stop it! Get it out of your mind, now!"

Ghost's deep Manchester accent pulled you out of your head and back into the present moment. You shot him what was meant to be a reassuring look, unaware that you actually looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It took you a moment to realise Price had left, leaving you two alone on the tarmac.

"They do anything you don't like, they act fishy - you report directly to me!"

He took a step forward, the tac vests you'd fastened on your bodies almost making contact. You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the tremor that coursed through you and raised your eyes to take a better look at the skull plate, firmly attached to his black balaclava by messy stitches.

Just like Price, he was quick to bounce back into being the Lieutenant of Task Force 141. You were used to seeing him in full combat gear considering the big count of missions you went together into, but you couldn't help but furrow your brow at the sight of an additional Ka-Bar knife strapped in a detachable holster on his belt. And at the two fragmentation grenades attached to the same belt. But after all, he and Soap would drop out of the plane before you hit the landing zone - he would need all the additional equipment and ammunition he could get.

"Are you ready to go into the hornet's nest?", you tried to tease him in an attempt to mask the audible gulp you had to take as the adrenaline started to kick in.

"You'll have reduced it to half before I even take out my knife!", he hummed as an answer, a soft warmth glowing in his chocolate eyes.

You opened your mouth to talk back, but you were interrupted by the loud beeping that signalled you to board the aircraft. You knew you had to go, you had a tight schedule to follow after all, but neither of you seemed to want to be the first to leave.

"I'll meet you at the safehouse?"

This time you couldn't look him in the eye, pining your gaze to the ground as your voice trembled, a soft vibration that got lost in the brutal cacophony of sounds. A surprised sound left your lips when his tac vest came back into your sight, two gloved fingers resting on your chin and lifting it until your eyes made contact with his.

"I'll be there."

You maintained eye contact as his hand fumbled for something on his vest. His glance was soft and tender, just as reassuring as his words and the gloved fingers that still lingered above your helmet strap.

"And I'll want that back."

You shot him a quizzical look before feeling an unfamiliar weight in the pocket of your tac vest. Your eyes shot down to the place, catching a glimpse of his skeleton glove before setting on the crumpled, half-smoked pack of cigarettes, and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

"That's an order, Sergeant!", he barked out before heading towards the aircraft. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and follow him, left hand resting over the smokes.

"Roger that, sir!"

--- 2 hours earlier

"Watcher 1 to Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

Laswell's voice could be heard through the radio, partially interrupting your watch. With mechanic moves, you pressed the communication button and brought the microphone closer to your chapped lips:

"Watcher 1, this is Bravo 4-7, solid copy! Go on for traffic."

"Interrogative, have you got eyes on the target?"

Shifting a bit under the dessert camouflage net, you peered down the scope of the rifle to check the gates of the compound. Two men with hunting dogs seemed to be on foot patrol, automatic guns swaying at their hips.

"Affirmative. Do you want me to take them down?"

It had been more than 20 hours since you got into position, yet all you were ordered to do was to keep watch and stand for future orders. Since it was not the first mission of this kind, you had expected that yet you could see the Privates getting jumpy and distracted, the two of them idly chatting between their own shared camo net.

"Negative, we expect the smugglers to arrive shortly after they switch patrols- we plan to infiltrate so hold your fire!"

"Copy, Watcher 1! Bravo 4-7 out!"

Taking one last look at the current patrol, you switched the communications on the channel you used to communicate with the two Privates. During your first mission, Ghost wasn't exactly the most talkative partner and not being able to entirely understand his intentions almost got you killed. After you got to know him better, you knew that he had been testing you and that he was always ready to step in if things went more south than expected, but nonetheless, you decided to do things differently with the two soon-to-be operators:

"Bravo 4-7-1, this is Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

You turned your eyes to the left, a frown on your face as you saw the camo net slightly shift as the radio began to crackle.

"Bravo 4-7, this is Bravo 4-7-1. Uhm… solid copy?"

"This is Bravo 0-7. Why the hell are you talking to your supervisor on the main channel?"

You couldn't help but giggle at Ghost's rough voice and you rolled your eyes at his antics. He was surely having the time of his life after having found a way to pick on the two men.

"Sorry sir… uhm, we were answering to Bravo 4-7-1 and…"

"Bravo 4-7-1, this is Bravo 4-7, switch to channel 4 and we'll continue our private chat there."

The quiet air was filled with even more crackling static and occasional mutters coming from who was probably Reynolds. Still keeping your eyes locked on the gates of the complex, you let out a sigh as you pressed the communication button again before Ghost could intervene:

"Bravo 4-7-1, use the red dial that is next to the communication button. All Bravos, sorry for the disturbance - though we could all use a small break!"

"You've got it, Bambi! How are you holding up there?"

You smiled hearing Kyle's reassuring tone, briefly accompanied by what must have been Price's laugh. Ghost and Soap would infiltrate the building from one side, while the Captain and Gaz would break in from the other- and you would keep watch and annihilate any unexpected threat, coming from the outside.

"It's all good, Gaz, all good. Just sitting my ass here and waiting for the moment I get to save yours!"

"Have you seen this ass though? Definitely worth killing for!"

Naturally, Soap couldn't help but intervene, his cocky reply being laced with a hint of playful arrogance. You opened your mouth to give him a well-chosen answer, but Ghost beat you to it. He was in full-combat mode, his stern voice being more than enough to make you bounce back into the harsh reality of the mission.

"Keep talking, MacTavish, and there'll be no rear-end left of you by the time the job is done! Party's over, get your asses back into the game!"

"Roger!"

But you still laughed after you made sure your radio was off, shaking your head in disbelief. Even when pent up on combat stress and adrenaline, you knew Ghost's pun was intentional. Involuntarily, your hand brushed over the crumpled pack of smokes, fishing it out of the pocket and bringing it closer to your face. Closing your eyes, you inhaled slowly, a deep sigh leaving your mouth. Even after a bumpy plane ride and 20 hours spent on a stakeout, Simon's scent was lingering, a silent sign of his presence.

"Bravo 4-7, this is Bravo 4-7-1, how copy?", Private John's voice could be heard through the radio, a tense silence settling in after his words. You had an inkling that they still had second thoughts on whether they were on the right channel or not.

"Solid copy, Private." You eventually decided to end their inner torment and reply, a grin forming at the corner of your lips when you heard a collective sigh from the two.

"Ma'am, we're sorry about before…"

"Mistakes happen- let that be your biggest and last one", you were prompt to cut them short, remembering how Ghost had tried to instil discipline through clipped, yet complete orders. "Now, Reynolds, tell me what you two are looking at!"

"Yes, ma'am! We're looking at two solid iron gates which are openly guarded by two mobile patrols, each one consisting of an armed man and a hunting dog. They haven't rotated in the past 5 hours, I think, so they are probably expecting to be changed soon-"

"Which also means that they might have got bored and should not be as attentive to their surroundings as-"

"Wrong, Private Johns, you are dead. Lesson number one on the battlefield, never underestimate your enemy!", you barked through the headset in a manner that would make Ghost proud. "You always need to uphold the enemy to the highest standard, not rely on their mistakes to succeed. Mistakes are occasional, but underestimating them is what will get you killed!"

The prolonged silence on their part was not a good sign and, for a moment, you wondered whether you'd been too harsh on them. But they must have known what they were signing up for temporarily joining the Task Force, so you sighed in defeat and pressed the communication button once more:

"I want you to move to the next ridge and keep watch from there. I expect detailed reports every 15 minutes from now on. Any questions?"

"No ma'am. Bravo 4-7-1 out."

"Bravo 4-7 out."

---

You started to realise something was wrong when another hour passed and the patrols were not switched, but instead doubled, with no signs of smugglers in sight. So far the main channel had been quiet and you divided your attention between the Privates' reports and being on the lookout for any signs that you've been compromised.

Your left hand was unconsciously fiddling with the cigarette pack, while your right one was adjusting the scope to focus on the road leading to the complex. Your breath hitched upon seeing a Humvee heading towards the gates and you fumbled for the communication button of the radio, bringing the mic closer to your mouth.

The sudden explosion of static coming from the radio had you almost ripping off the headset from your ears, a cold shiver running down your spine the moment you realised it.

Your radio was not working.

"All Bravos, this is Bravo 4-7, how copy?"

You could feel your heartbeat increasing at an alarming rate when no answer came and you turned to look at the place where Privates Reynolds and Johns should have been, keeping watch on the complex. Your heart dropped further in your chest when you realised the ridge was empty and there had been more than 15 minutes since their last report- still that didn't justify why they'd left their position without telling you. Were Price's orders not clear enough? Sure, your radio may have broken somehow, but they should have come and checked in with you in person as they must have been trained.

You let out a string of curses under your breath, the realisation of the imminent danger you were currently in hitting you like a bullet train. You must have been compromised, the same way the scouts Laswell mentioned had been - and your radio was not working because someone must have been using a signal jammer in the area. And judging by the absence of the two Privates, the order to retreat had already been given.

You needed to get out of there.

With rapid, but calculated movements, you disassembled the sniper and began to pack it into a camo warbag. You were slowly rolling up the camouflage net when multiple gunshots were fired on the road you had been watching. Your eyes widened in disbelief when you saw what must have been the convoy supposed to transport the weapons Laswell talked about, coming under heavy fire. There had been someone else who had known about the transport, and who must have done everything they could to get their hands on it.

And taking into consideration what they had done to the Special Forces scouts, you could easily rule out the saying that stated that the enemy of your enemy was your friend. So when you heard men hollering in what seemed to be Russian in your vicinity, you ripped out your dog tags and all the badges that identified you as a British Special Forces operator and buried them into a shallow mound, carefully placing one of Ghost's cigarettes on top of it. As the shouts grew closed, you took in a deep breath and your left hand gripped around the hilt of the extra Ka-Bar knife you kept in your boot.

With a small sigh of resignation, you accepted the fact that you couldn't outrun them without the high risk of getting killed. While the ridge you were stationed on was a good point of observation, it provided no proper cover outside of the camouflage net you've already packed and it only left you with the choice you've been trained to make and despised the most.

Surrender yourself and hope somebody will come to save you.

-- present time

"Why didn't she listen to the orders to retrea-.."

One of the Privates whose nametag read Johns tried to speak up, but his words faltered as the deadly gazes of the remaining Task Force 141 operators were set on him. And at that moment they resembled a pack of hound dogs, eager to be released on a hunt.

"Listen here, boy", Soap began in an unusually calm tone, although his tensed-up form spoke otherwise. "You and your friend here- you better pack up and make sure you board Laswell's ride, as soon as she touches ground here." His words were cold and calculated, his voice getting harsher as he went on. "See, right now we are all focused on getting back our comrade- to put it plainly, we do not have the time to deal with you leaving her behind deep in enemy territory."

He paused for better effect.

"But Lord save you once we find her because nothing will hold us back and we. Will. Be. Coming. For. You."

"That's enough, MacTavish!", Laswell curtly said as she entered the safe house. She was dressed plainly, if not for the bulletproof vest she'd donned and the usual stack of manilla folders she was usually carrying around had been replaced by a laptop she placed in front of Price and opened. "I take full responsibility for what happened to Miss L/N. As for now, she is declared as MIA."

"What do you mean, happened? I don't care what you're going to say, but I am sure as hell going to get her out of wherever she is!", Ghost couldn't contain his growl, his fingers turning white from his hard grip on the chair.

If any of his teammates noticed the sudden shift in his demeanour when Laswell declared you as missing in action, they had the common sense to keep their thoughts to themselves. All of them were stressed, angry and tired, but there was one more feeling that was bubbling in Ghost's chest, something that he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he'd been buried alive in a dead man's casket.

Simon Riley was scared. He was scared he wouldn't be able to get you in time, that he would fail to protect you when you needed it the most. He couldn't control the frantic way his heart hammered in his chest when his brain fabricated scenarios in which you were alone, cold and petrified, and it took him a great deal of what was left of his self-control not to throw caution out the window and run to find you.

Ghost was scared for you, but what terrified him the most was the thought of having to live in a world without you.

On the outside, he seemed still as a statue, his trained blank look not betraying the internal conflict that was raging inside. He saw Laswell's lips move and the laptop screen that was placed in front of him, but the lights were too bright and the colours, too saturated. He was supposed to watch a video, a drone footage, as his military-trained mind registered, but the voices in his head became too loud to ignore and the temperature in the room was too high for his liking. His breaths quickened and he felt the mask sticking to his face, suffocating him, as if he was in the coffin again, in the dark, and alone with a rotting corpse. Only it was not the body of the person who'd betrayed him, but your sleeping silhouette, gently resting your head on his chest and sighing every once in a while.

The footage from the drone zoomed in on a familiar figure who was encircled by armed men from all directions. The scene of you being taken as a hostage played in front of Ghost's eyes, but his mind did not register it as his sole focus was on your slumbering figure, the warmth of your body against his playing a big role in persuading Simon that you were actually there, with him, safe and sound.

Yet you weren't, and when he tried to brush a strand of hair away from your face he was met with the rough and cold surface of a skull plate, his fingers instantly jerking away in repulsion. A wave of nausea had him shot up from his chair and stumble to the bathroom, shaky hands fumbling with the thick mask before he could empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt as if he'd been dunked in a barrel of cold water. His mind was no longer muddled with what-ifs and second-guesses, but had a clear purpose in sight: one that would keep him going until the end of the earth just to see it done. His hands no longer trembled as he pulled the black balaclava on his face and headed back to the main room, paying no mind to Soap's concerned gaze.

His eyes were cold and determined as he laid his hands on the first assault rifle within reach, methodically assembling it and stuffing as many ammunition magazines as he could into the pockets of his tactical vest. His hands itched for a cigarette, but the urge only strengthened his resolve: he would find you, even if it meant it was the last thing he did.

---

You didn't even have the energy to flinch when the fist collided with your face, sending your head rolling backwards. The world was reduced to a blurry mess, blue stars dancing before your eyes. Out of instinct, you lolled your head to the side and spit on the ground, in an attempt to diminish the metallic tang of blood in your mouth. You could still feel the unpleasant stinging that overwhelmed the left half of your face where you'd been hit with the back of a gun but tried to ignore the blood that was trickling across your cheek, all too aware of the jagged line that started near the temple and stopped short of the jawline. The bastards knew how to do their job and they weren't ones to shy away from using you as a means to an end- the future facial scar they'd given you serving as solid proof for that.

"He asked you a question, filth!"

An angry conversation was taking place right in front of you, but you were too busy trying to alleviate the pain, to focus on your captors. Sometimes, familiar words would reach your ears: american, military, information; but it was clear that they were struggling to find a way to make you talk. The questions were always the same ones, similar to what you've been prepared for in interrogation training- who were you, who were you working for, what are the Americans planning? Why has everything had always something to do with the Americans?

And just as you'd been taught in interrogation training, your answers were short and clipped- revealing little to no information at that time. You were still in the phase where they saw you as an asset, a potential source of information, taking into consideration the fact that they didn't kill you on the spot, and it was up to you to dictate the rhythm of their game. Speak too fast and too soon, they will get everything they need and kill you. Say nothing for too much time, they will see you as a dead-end and kill you.

You were currently walking the tightrope, trying to keep the balance between the increasing pain you found yourself in and the amount and importance of the information you were giving them. All you had to do was to make sure you stayed alive long enough for your teammates to find you. You knew they would take care of the rest.

"We shall try a different question then, kotyonok…" You shot your captor a cold look full of spite, not sure what disgusted you more: the mocking nickname he gave you or the pressure his fingers applied on your face, so different from the calloused, yet gentle touch of Ghost. "You wouldn't tell us your name- at least give us your codename and we might get Boris here to clean up your cheek. I know you wouldn't like that cut to scar…"

Your hands were numb from the tight grip they used to tie you to the metal chair, but you could still feel them shake when a knife, your Ka-Bar knife, was pressed against your cheek. You bit your lip so hard it drew blood in an attempt to stifle the tears that were pooling in your eyes, and you couldn't help but whimper when the blade was lightly traced against your skin before being sheathed, a heartless laugh following the gesture soon after.

You closed your head and let your head hang low, the rhythmic drip of your blood being the only sound that filled the room for a while. You could only hope you would make it through the next hours and your teammates wouldn't have to be greeted by your still-warm body.

---

Ghost was quick to follow the sound of Gaz's voice, his steps leading him to what proved to be quite a strategic place to observe the complex. A brief look at his compass confirmed the coordinates registered along with the drone footage, and even if more than 4 hours had passed since you'd been captured, his eyes were frantically searching for any signs that might lead him to you.

"I found something! She must have been camped here, there are still traces in the ground from where she pinned the camo net!"

"There was something in the footage…", Gaz started to mutter to himself, starting to hit heaps of dirt at random. "She was crouched over the earth like.. she was trying to bury something, I think?"

Not bothering to reply, Ghost's eyes began to systematically scan the area. At first glance, it all seemed the same, the desert soil not providing much diversity in terms of landscape. But you had to leave a mark behind, something subtle, yet noticeable at the same time, something that you could find only if you knew what you were looking for…

"That's bloody good work, Gaz!"

Kyle stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening at the sudden praise coming from his usually cold-demeanoured Lieutenant. For a couple of seconds, he was too distracted to notice that Ghost had kneeled on the ground, his gloved hands digging through a heap of dirt, a white cigarette carefully placed away from the mound. By the time Price and Soap joined them, he managed to unearth your dog tags and Special Forces badges and put them on display:

"She knew she would be taken in… and that revealing her identity at a later point would buy her time…"

"That's basic interrogation training, Sergeant!", Ghost barked at Soap in an unusually aggressive way that made the Scot frown in his direction.

He opened his mouth to talk back, yet no words came out when he noticed your dog tags wrapped around Ghost's hand and the obsessive way he seemed to fiddle with them. Subtly sharing a knowing look with Price, who just raised his eyebrows in a silent suggestion to let it slide, Soap turned around and started scanning the perimeter for any sign that might point to your current whereabouts. Your sudden disappearance had a big impact on all of them, yet it seemed that it affected Ghost the most, his recent mood swings being strong proof of it.

"Bloody bastards… they smoked my cigarettes…"

Simon stomped the cigarette butts under his boot, turning his head to Price, but the Captain was already meters away, fishing another cigarette butt from the ground. Nodding his head in Ghost's direction, he brought the radio closer to his mouth and pressed the communication button:

"Kate, I think we have a lead. Well, at least a path of …smoked stubs?"

Yet before Price could give the order to spread out and start looking for more tracks, Simon already went ahead of others, pulling the automatic gun from his shoulder. Under all the layers comprising of the tactical vest and the rest of the military-issued gear, his heart was thundering in his chest. Second thoughts were already forming inside his tired mind: they really got you, they stole your cigarettes, the pack he gave you for safekeeping and that was supposed to be your lucky charm- somehow, he had thought that having a physical piece of him would keep you out of harm's way.

He could only hope he found you in time before the damage you'd sustained would become irreversible.

---

"I don't think you understand how this is working, milaya…"

He was so close to you, that you could feel his rancid breath on your face, a faint familiar smell lodging in your nostrils. Your head was throbbing, and you decided you were hallucinating- Russians didn't smoke the British cigarette brand Ghost did. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, subconsciously wishing for the masked Lieutenant to find you faster.

"So far we had a monologue…- but I still think you have potential."

Out of reflex, you flinched when someone gripped your shoulders, but the pain your mind was preparing for did not come. Instead, you were untied from the chair and violently shoved forward. Your hands were still tied behind your back and you ended up falling face first on the hard concrete, letting out a pathetic moan that raised a few laughs from your captors.

As you lay there, disoriented and struggling to regain composure, you felt a pair of arms hooking your shoulders, pulling you upright and dragging you out of the room. You were too exhausted to put up a fight, the pain dangerously dulling your senses, but that didn't stop you from thrashing around in your captor's grip and throwing curses at him. To your dismay, he didn't seem fazed by it, his grip never faltering as he hauled you through a deserted corridor, seemingly underground, judging by the lack of natural light. You maintained your aggressive facade, yet your eyes were carefully studying your surroundings, taking in every little detail that might prove crucial, should you be able to escape.

Before you realised it, you were thrown into a dark room, yet this time you were able to cushion the fall and land on your knees. Wincing at the brutal impact, you squinted in an attempt to make out your surroundings and any potential escape routes.

"See, little one, everyone has a breaking point.."

The harsh voice of your captor broke through the silence, followed, as if on cue, by the lights being turned on. The sudden brightness had you close your eyes in discomfort, your wrists starting to turn red and raw from your relentless efforts to free yourself from the tight ropes. You could feel blood trickling through the small abrasions where the rope had cut into your skin.

"It seems plain violence is not yours. Not even cresting your pretty little face… I will tell you a secret, you might not live long to keep it anyway, but that is the breaking point of many- ladies and men both."

As he went on with what you decided was a well-rehearsed discourse, he started walking in circles around the room, almost like a predator circling its prey. The intimidation technique was not foreign to you, yet you did your best to morph your face into a scared and hesitant expression, giving him what he wanted to see: a person who was on the verge of breaking, someone who should be kept alive for a little more.

"So I thought to myself- the doll does not work alone. Maybe we should bring one of her friends here and see who gives in first."

If you weren't busy maintaining the terrified mask, you might have laughed at his weak attempt to extract information about your teammates. He was trying so hard to be menacing, yet he didn't know that you had been trained by the Ghost himself, who had drilled all possible interrogation scenarios into your mind. You made a mental note to thank him if you ever got out of there.

"But then I remembered we had a special room we haven't been able to test yet."

His voice grew closer and closer. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground, you focused on the blood that was dripping from your face, staining the concrete floor crimson. When he exhaled in your direction, you could clearly feel the smoke of Ghost's cigarettes wafting towards you, your hands clenching in fists at the audacity he possessed. You opened your mouth for the first time, if only to give him a piece of your mind, yet you barely had time to register him roughly grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and violently dragging you to the middle of the room.

"And if this doesn't break you… do not worry, we will find something else!"

You could barely make sense of his words, his unveiled threat, before your head was forcefully shoved into what you made out to be a basin. Piercing-cold water enveloped you from all sides, and panic surged through every fiber of your being when you realised that there was a firm grip on the back of your head, preventing you from pulling out. Your throat burned with each passing second, and your vision gradually darkened as you struggled to stay conscious, your body going limp on the edge of the bathtub.

"After all, we have all the time in the world. No one will find us here… not when we are right under their noses."

---

It took them one hour under the scorching sun, but the members of Task Force 141 had managed to discover the Russians' hideout. Following the cigarette butts eventually led them to a camouflage net, one which Ghost almost ripped away when he recognized it as yours, and they ended up staring at the entrance of what was supposed to be an underground bunker. The few guards that were lingering around didn't know what hit them, a blood-splattered skull plate being the last thing they'd seen before collapsing to the ground.

As he carefully threaded through the dimly lit corridor, Ghost's demons had never been so loud. On the one hand, his feet were urging him to bolt, to sprint through every room and hallway and find you as quickly as he could, but on the other hand, he was still part of a team with whom he shared a common purpose. Ditching them would be highly dangerous and irresponsible and it would help no one in the end.

Yet all common sense jumped out of the window when the silence was shattered by a high-pitched scream followed by a loud string of curses, both in English and Russian. Simon barely waited for Price's curt order to go before he bolted in the direction of the commotion, swiftly incapacitating any man who was foolish enough to get in this way.

At that moment, he didn't even need the mask to become one with the Ghost- the primal need to protect you overtook his senses, the chaotic surroundings fading into the background as the singular purpose took hold of him. When the automatic gun ran out of ammunition he simply threw it away and lunged for the rifle strapped on his back. When he ran out of throwing knives, he openly jumped on anyone who got in his way. He did not hold back, being quick to send his opponents staggering backwards and crashing into walls or doors. His objective was clear - to create a diversion, a way to distract attention from you and put an end to the torment you must have been going through.

He didn't even bother to check if the door was unlocked before kicking it to the ground, unaware of the splinters that lodged themselves into his gear. When he registered the lower half of your limp body, beaten and bruised, he saw red. Dropping his rifle to the ground, he let out a feral growl as he launched himself at the man standing in the middle of the room, who was staring at him wide-eyed, fumbling with the safety of the gun he was holding. Blow after blow rained upon him, each strike being filled with a mix of madness and rage that Ghost had struggled to contain within himself throughout the day. The Russian, unable to defend himself from Ghost's fury, was crouched in a fetal position, whimpering and sobbing, just like you did hours ago, yet Simon's assault did not seem to falter. He was determined to make him feel at least a fraction of what you've been put through.

Until he realised that there was no other movement in the room, that you hadn't crept up to him and assured him you were fine like he secretly hoped you would. He was almost scared to look in the direction of your still-limp body, his blood running cold at the sight of you leaning against the edge of a water basin, your head still submerged in the water.

Simon had often fantasized about what kissing you for the first time would be like. It was a small comfort he liked to indulge in whenever he would try to go to bed and sleep wouldn't find him. Where would you be, how would your lips feel when pressed against his? Would it be gentle, or wild and passionate? What would you say to him afterwards? Would you regret or do it again in the following moments?

He definitely did not expect your first intimate contact to be on the cold, hard floor of the torture room, with your lifeless body hanging limp in his arms. He ripped his gloves away from his hands, searching for your pulse with trembling fingers and the relief he felt upon feeling an irregular, yet faint heartbeat, had him peel the mask from his face and discard it on the floor. Without wasting a second, he tilted your head back gently and sealed his chapped lips against yours, trying his best to breathe life into your still body. Your skin was cold against his fingers and he could almost feel his heart stop beating when he realised your condition was not improving.

Ghost was not a religious man, yet he started to recite the only prayer his mother ever taught him when he pressed his hands against your chest and started the compressions. Hot tears started rolling down his cheeks as he counted the compressions, lips trembling as he kept chanting your name again and again, urging you to open your eyes and wake up.

A choked sob left his mouth when you gasped and started coughing, your body twitching against your will. He was quick to roll you onto your side, gently patting your back in an attempt to help you expel the water lodged in your throat. His vision was still clouded from the tears, but that did not stop him from cradling your shaking figure in his arms, resting his head atop yours. He could feel your erratic breathing and your heartwrenching sobs, but all he could do was hug you tighter and try to reassure you, even though his voice was breaking:

'It's alright. They won't be hurting you again… I'll keep you safe!"

You didn't know how long you stayed in that position, but you were convinced you had been so deprived of oxygen that you started hallucinating. Somehow, you were absolutely convinced it was Ghost who was holding you tight in his arms, your cheek being squished against a tactical vest that could only be his, judging by its specific scent. Yet the sight of a head of dirty blonde hair made you scrunch your forehead in confusion. Why was he not wearing his mask? Your eyesight was still too blurred to make out the features of the person who was holding you, but you could trace the contours of his face in your sleep, even though you could count on your fingers the number of times you had seen them before.

Breathing heavily, you lifted a shaky hand towards his face, scared that if you moved too suddenly, the spell would break and you would be once again pulled out of the basin and asked the generic set of questions you've been asked for the past half an hour. But when your fingers made contact with Simon's cheek, softly threading through his stubble and tracing the deep scar that almost split his lip in two, you let out a breath of relief, a warm wave of comfort washing over you. Your tired mind took note of the foreign voices that were mixed with Simon's reassuring whispers: there was someone repeatedly asking whether you were okay, someone talking over the radio and someone asking for med-evac. Yet the sudden commotion only made you nuzzle your head against Ghost's chest, letting out a sigh of relief as you finally allowed your eyes to shut closed, the constant thought of finally being safe serving as a temporary balm to your wounds.

The base's hospital was no different in any of those regards, yet Simon had spent the last days inside its four walls, camped out on the armchair Price had arranged to be brought into your salon the moment you'd been transferred from the municipal hospital.

---

For someone who had spent a good part of his life in hospitals, Ghost hated them. He couldn't stand the pungent smell of chemicals or the hushed conversations that took place in the brightly lit corridors. The constant beeping of the monitoring devices would drive him insane and he detested the cheap food.

Ghost hated hospitals, but he hated being away from you even more.

So he had resorted to spending the last three days acting both as a makeshift nurse and a guard dog for any of the curious passers-by who would try and peek at the operator who had been captured by the enemy and survived torture. Soap, Gaz or Price would usually join him outside working hours, trying to make small talk or urging him to eat the take-out they bought him, but he would only leave your side for bathroom breaks and showers.

He spent the rest of the time next to your sleeping figure, lying still in the armchair and keeping his eyes glued to you. Every once in a while, he would zone out and find himself counting how many times your chest went up and down, totally unaware of the heart-rate monitor that was placed right next to him.

For the time being, Simon was grateful you'd been filled up with painkillers and still sleeping. He couldn't wait for you to wake up, but he wasn't mentally prepared for it: it wouldn't be like before when you fell asleep on him and woke up feeling slightly ashamed, but refreshed, a soft smile lighting up your face. This time, you would wake up to a body full of bruises and a new scar marking your face- and he had no idea what he could say to help you get through it.

Simon was not a man of words, so he decided to convey his feelings through actions and gestures. His moves were well-rehearsed as he emptied the glass of water he'd filled a couple of hours before and refilled it to the brim, placing it on a table next to your bed. His gloves had been long gone by the time he changed your blanket with a fresh and soft one that Soap had brought the last time he came in. After he ensured you were comfortably tucked in, Ghost busied himself with rearranging the flowers and the get-well-soon cards that had already been neatly arranged at the edge of your bed.

After there was nothing left for him to do, he eventually dragged the armchair close to your bedside, removing his mask with slow and weary movements. The dark circles that had formed under his eyes were a stark contrast against his pale complexion, and the stubble he'd neglected for the past few days threatened to turn into a full-grown beard. Yet that did not stop him from exposing his face in your presence, his tired mind arguing that perhaps the sight of him might pull you out of your head, at least temporarily.

A heavy sigh left his body as he laid his upper body on your bed, his head carefully resting on the top of your hand. Out of instinct, he nuzzled his cheek against the soft skin of your palm, relishing in the warmth of the contact, and draped one arm against your body, gently pulling you closer to him.

Minutes passed and his eyes gradually fluttered closed, his soft breaths slowly mingling with yours. He would never admit it out loud, but especially after the events of the last mission, the sole way he could fall asleep was in your proximity, only finding solace in the warm feeling of your touch. It may have taken him a while, but he eventually came to the realisation that it was in your arms that he felt safe, where the turmoil and chaos of the outside could temporarily be forgotten. And he was determined to keep it that way, no matter what it took.

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

more notes: do you guys would like a bonus part, say, an epilogue for this? I'm thinking of something like "the one where they finally get a bed" or something... let me know in the comments (or ask box if you'd like to remain anonymous)

taglist: @neoarchipelago, @thecorruptedlovely, @mitchlow, @fieldsofbats, @thaprilks, @stars-andfreckles, @that-napa-know-how, @preistinajamjar, @iamaliceinwonderland, @allaboutirem0, @lilpothoscuttings, @01trickster10, @yyiikes, @joanne-uwu, @dorck26, @wawuwe, @karagd13-blog, @rindulacre, @claibornc

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

you don't need an AO3 app - round 2!!!

"AO3 is ugly and I hate the formatting!" -> you can download site skins. very gorgeous ones. and you can use them to change the aesthetics and visuals of AO3. just search 'AO3 skin' on Tumblr or even on google and you will be in A Whole New World. (and those searches should yeild tutorials on how to install the skins as well - it's not something I know a lot about, because I used to primarily use Quizilla and FFN, so I am more than used to Ugly Website. AO3 is very aesthetic and pretty compared to those.)

"AO3 is too bright!!! it hurts my eyes!!!" -> there is a dark mode. scroll down to the bottom. there is a heading that says 'customize'. under this heading, hit the button that says 'reversi'. that is their version of dark mode. and again, you can look for site skins that you like that have a darker background.

"I want to be able to make reading lists!" -> you can make bookmark collections on AO3. In your bookmarks, there is a button that says 'add to collection' beside each work. have fun. go ham. (Also, you can make private bookmarks if you are reading something with more controversial content that you don't really want others to know about - and please know, that any bookmark comments you make on public bookmarks can be seen by the author.)

(this last one made me laugh - because it seems like people are just coming up with bullshit excuses to 'need' an AO3 app when there is literally nothing that an app can go that AO3 can't.)

"my memory is really bad because of reasons sooo I remember to use things better by having them on my homescreen like an app!!!" -> create an AO3 shortcut on your homescreen. most mobile browsers have the capability to put a shortcut to a specific link or a specific website on your homescreen so that you can go straight there - like you would with opening an app. and it can be labelled 'the AO3 app' while simply having the icon of that browser. you can even do this with a link to a specific fic that you are in the process of reading (even down to the specific chapter that you were on). there is literally 0 reasons to have or use an AO3 app.

and remember kids!!! any and all apps with AO3 in their title are not associated with the real archiveofourown in any way, shape, or form - they are unofficial, and technically, they are illegal. and using them is putting all fanficition writers at risk legally (even if there is no active lawsuits right now) - just don't fucking use them. it is a threat to the entire fanfiction hobby just because you want 'the app experience'.

the archive is a non-profit website with 0 ads for a reason, and those apps are scummy scammers who put ads on our stories to make fast easy money when none of the people who made those stories ever consented to it.

[greycaelum]

Hi ! It's me again, I just wanted to add that I think you're absolutely amazing. Your writing is perfect, and out of all the stories I've read about Satoru, I feel like you have the best interpretation of him, and you do a great job of conveying that in your writing. That's why I wanted to thank you for taking us on a journey and allowing us to escape into a world with Satoru!

I also wanted to make a small request, but of course you can ignore this part if you don't feel like it! The Kaleidoscope series is by far my favorite, and I wanted to see Satoru's wife be a little jealous...he's such a simp for her, and only has eyes for her, so she never has to worry about anything, and I love that, but why not have a little turn of events with lots of fluff.

Thank you!

- Machi ⭐️

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Territorial }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Genre: fluff, a lil' wifezilla moment with y/n

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.1k)— champagne moments, homewrecker alert, PDA *in capital letters

𑁍 A/N: midterms put the nail to my coffin, but here's a glass of bubbly to that~🥂

Your husband without question is a fine-looking man. Too fine sometimes. But you could never count how many times girls bat lashes in his direction or even try to snag your man away with their sultry clothes almost showing their souls to him.

Your reaction?

Well, normal.

If you were a jealous woman having Satoru as your man is a big no, no. He catches too much attention for his own good. Both by males at work and girls at the sides.

But it never roused an extensive feeling of jealousy or envy in your side. Albeit after years of being with him that is. Others may call it arrogance or simply the steeled assurance between the two of you... But you've never been put in a critical position where you have the urgency of stating your claim over Satoru. They could kneel and lay down his feet but only you can touch your man.

You sip the champagne served for you at tonight's gala. It's an annual social gathering held by the prime minister for the Jujutsu clans. And the Gojo Clan being at the top of the Three Great Families of the Jujutsu society, you must attend for the formalities or whatnots.

What a bore...

Satoru's attitude must have rubbed on you for finding the opulent hall, with glitters and dazzle to be such a stifling event. Your eyes roamed around and found nothing worth noting except for the chocolate fountain Saika would've gone crazy about if she was here.

On the other hand, Satoru is crowded by both men and women. His mere height makes it hard not to spot him in the room. Not to add the newly tailored montsuki you had for him makes him eye-catching.

You had to ask him to let you sit after standing and greeting other attendees for so long. Now you're here sitting on the corner, catching your poise while passing boredom with your glass of bubbly.

Satoru is holding a glass of his extra extra sweet non-alcohol mocktail. Judging by the frequent sarcasm in his words and scrunched of his nose he will come to you and ask to go home before half an hour from now.

That was what you supposed until a younger lady came forward and started talking directly to Satoru ignoring the people around her as she laughed obnoxiously for your liking.

Call it a woman's instinct when you easily narrow to the side of your eyes as she tries to bend a little lower exposing a bit of her cleavage. Satoru didn't react much and continued talking anyway.

You don't know the girl's family background but from her flashy appearance, diamonds sparkling on her, you could surmise that she came from an influential family enough to be personally invited by the prime minister. She's too... gaudy.

It was only when she tried to offer another glass of champagne to Satoru by grabbing onto his arms and pushing the flute towards Satoru that your brow raised. She wasn't able to touch him because of Satoru's Infinity but it still counts as something uncomfortable for a lady to do with a married man.

People never really learned... It's funny seeing them try so hard, but there should be a limit to it.

Satoru's temple creased as well. But he wasn't able to do anything more when a hand grabbed the flute of the champagne being shoved toward him and a familiar sweet jasmine scent filled his nostrils. The sound of your zori heels against the marble floor broke the awkward atmosphere.

You took the flute from the surprised and confused girl and leisurely sipped the liquor before turning to whisper something to Satoru's ear but your eyes never left the girl. His Infinity dissolved the second you held on to his elbow.

"Hey Baby," Satoru hummed with a bright smile on his lips.

"She's. Annoying. Me." You punctuated the word before baring your teeth and sinking them in his enticing earlobe you only let go when you heard a subtle needy whine from your husband. An arm immediately wrapped on the back of your waist to steady you. Satoru mumbled an incoherent phrase as you hummed back in reply.

The small group was stunned and at the same time flushed at the sudden move from your side. You simply smiled and surveyed your eyes on the people, your eyes took their time to watch the young lady with a scowl on her face.

"My husband is non-alcoholic, I will take this drink for him." You downed the flute of bubbles in one go before giving the passing server the empty glass and bending a little to whisper in the young lady's ear.

There's a glint in your eyes that made everyone look away and slowly withdraw to scatter around the hall.

"There's a thin line between brave and stupid." You stood back straight and softly smiled. "Which one are you, little girl?"

She better thank whatever devil possessed you to drink a lot tonight that you're feeling a little too tipsy to argue. An arm snaked at the back of your waist whilst a hand landed on your hips to steady you.

Like a pup with its tail tucked between her legs, she turned her heel, flushed cheeks, and hunched shoulders as she walked to the other side of the banquet.

You rolled your eyes and looked for the nearest seat but a firm grip on your hips reminded you of the towering man holding you upright.

"Loved your little show~" Satoru chuckled as he tilted your dazed face higher so you could stare into his enthralling blue orbs. "My pretty, pretty Baby, so territorial over me, huh?"

You weren't able to answer back as he took your lips for a quick and sweet kiss, in the midst of the crowd, you both stood there. Him, with a victorious and satisfied smirk, and you, tipsy and in a stupor of the outward display of affection.

The crowd turned away, some gasped, some looked scandalized, and some were grinning ear to ear. Satoru and his penchant for lack of decorum is shining so brightly.

You're not teens anymore, you're both married for more or less 10 years, but damn this sweet man for never failing in drawing you in his touch. You gripped his haori. What's worse is you cannot bring your lips to protest.

Satoru sensed this and finally guided you away from the crowd, only after he kissed your temples one more time.

"My Mrs. Gojo." Satoru grinned.

Maybe you never needed to do this little stunt but for some reason this small pettiness makes your heart beat like a teenager head over heels for Satoru... What's more, is that—

That ought to teach them where he belongs.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

[greenplumbboblover]

Not-a-tutorial - Lighting (Basics)

I really loved @nocturnalazure Storytelling tips, and figured I'd add one more chapter that I, personally, feel can be helpful to add the mood or maybe a bit more 🌶 to your pictures! (with or without reshade ;))

But first, go check out these tips by Nocturnalazure!

Camera Shots

Dialogues Part I

Dialogues Part II

Things to note before beginning:

This technique can be used with and without reshade/gshade/sweetfx or even editing images. (but I would recommend it!)

Make sure you're playing with at least "Lighting and Shadows" to highest settings. Otherwise this won't work.

All of the images in this post have been taken without being edited/haven't used reshade/gshade for them. (So, just the good ol' C button 😉)

A lighting mod can already go a long way! So, if you haven't yet, go find one before reading!

All Base Game compatible! No EPs/SPs needed

I'm in no way a colourist! But it may be cool to check the science behind it if you want to go more advanced on this :)

And with that said... let's get to it!

What do we need?

1. "Wall Area Light 1x1", (since it's simpler for sims)

You can find it under BuyDebug on (But first make sure you have Testingcheatsenabled true on!).

Pssst! I would recommend adding it to a catalogue! I made a "story" catalogue and added it so it's much easier to find it!

How to use lighting, the very basics:

Here we have Lolita Goth, outside with no lighting except for the world's.

Not to bad, eh? Well. there are a few reasons why we want to add lights to this scene.

Lolita's face is quite dark.

The reader will be very focused on the background AND the sim. (I personally keep looking at the bench, and less at Lolita right now.)

It's interesting, partially because of the lighting mod installed, but we can make it even more appealing.

NOTE: These techniques will work no matter if your sim is facing the sun or facing away from the sun! The results will always be the same with the lights.

Setup:

The basic setup is simple! You'll need 3 lights. One behind your sim(s), one sideways and one in front.

Back light = used for darker colours (blue, red, green, purple, orange)

Sub light = Used as helper colour for Back light. Can remove if not necessary. (helper in the sense of: Backlight is blue, adding purple can help being more interesting).

Front light = always white, flame, orange.

An example with the 3 lights used.

Setup:

Backlight = Red

Sub-light = Orange

Front Light = White

Why can't I just use the front light?

While it's not a bad approach in certain scenes, often the result is a bit too... tense:

(Left is with backlighting, right is with only front-light).

Personally I find the left image much more appealing, and more interesting to look at. But if trhe right picture is more your cup of tea, the feel free to use it!

Here's an example with the same principle but at night:

(Left is with backlighting, right is with only front-light).

Here, I think it shows it even more, how nice backlights can make something more captivating!

Now that we know about the basics of setting up our scenes... Let's get into the details a bit more!

How to use lighting for nighttime (Outdoors):

Here we got a scene with Lolita and Gunther Goth in a dark spooky graveyard, having a gothic-y picnick. In-game, this is the lighting setup as of right now:

It's lit up enough, right? While in regular gameplay this is definetly true, in a story setup we can actually make this much more interesting! But before that, here's our scene image:

The thing though is... while there is light, currently the eyes aren't drawn to Lolita's face at all:

So... how do we fix this?

There are a few ways. But all require our Wall Area Light!

Setup 1:

One light can go a long way! In this instance, I added only one light, and used "Dimmed" so it still shows as if they're in the dark. (To select different light settings, use Shift + Click to see them ;))

There are scenes where this would be enough (though, having 2 facing from different directions would work better), it dosn't really in this instance.

The problem, however, is that it almost feels like there's a spotlight that is facing them. The scene may have got a bit more interesting (as we are more focused on Lolita's face), but just isn't there yet.

Setup 2:

By adding in a blue colour, facing the back and a little bit the front of our subject(s) we get a much more "fake" nightlight representation.

Though, a few thoughts here:

While in this scene I personally liked making the back colours blue, we can always experiment a little and change one of the blue into purple!

Now, the part of Lolita's face that isn't blue, we do want a non-blue colour. For this, I like to cycle through the following colours:

White

Flame

Orange

(Rarely! But sometimes red).

See result here:

This all depends on your preference, and if you want a deeper colour. Or maybe, to even set a certain dramatic effect! (this is where red may be nicer).

Make sure to also play around with the intensity settings of each light! This can really change things up!

Currently, I've set up the intensities like so:

Blue 1 = Bright

Blue 2 = Bright

Orange/white/flame/red = Dim

Though, if Blue 2 is purple for you, I'd recommend setting this one to normal or even dim.

How to use lighting for Daylight (Outdoors):

This one is much easier, and more straightforward! While backlighting is important here as well, it's less of a necessity in this setting.

Okay! So you've posed all the characters, set up objects, etc... and now we're ready for the lighting! Here's what I currently have:

Not bad, not bad at all without any lights... but what if we add them!

Here I added a White-dimmed light.

Better! In fact, if this is the kind of lighting you want in your scene, then feel free to leave it here!

What about a little more complicated lighting... sort of what we did with our night scene?

Here the left light is a white-dimmed light, and on the right we got a orange dimmed light.

it's not much, but it definitely added a nice shade to the scene! :)

Let's get to how we do this same thing, but indoors!

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures In Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house.

Content warning: swearing, inter-dimensional demogorgon bullshit, kind of strangers to friends to lovers (not necessarily all in this chapter), stancy, slow burn

Word Count: 6.5k

Author’s note: This is my first fic and it isn’t super original; it pretty much sticks to the plot of the show, but adds you to the mix! I tend to like fics that put the reader directly into the Stranger Things universe, demogorgons and all, so this chapter roughly follows Steve’s involvement in season 1 episode 8 when he goes to the Byers’ residence. This is more of a prologue and I plan to be more original with the story as it goes on, but it will still largely follow the plot lines of the series, so if that’s something you’re looking for, you’ve found it here!

Series Masterlist | Next Part

***

You knocked quickly on the door in front of you, eyes darting left and right to take in your surroundings. You were out of place here among the upper class houses in the neighborhood, with your hand-me-down and thrifted clothes screaming the opposite of prosperity. You were antsy, weight shifting from foot to foot; in fact, you were almost confident that if any of the neighbors were out and caught a glimpse of your obviously anxious form, they’d put a call in to the Hawkins police in an instant. You didn’t belong here. You scoffed at the thought. Though every fiber of your being was telling you—no, screaming at you—to leave, you really didn’t have a choice.

Not to mention the address you were at housed probably the last person you would ever actively seek out. He probably didn’t want to see you either, if you were being honest.

“Come on. Just answer,” You muttered through gritted teeth as you raised your hand to knock once more. However, before your hand could even make contact with the nice, expensive oak of the front door, it opened and you were met with the annoyed and confused glare of the one and only Steve Harrington. The expression on his face didn’t surprise you but the state of it did. Bruises and cuts littered his otherwise perfect skin, leaving you with a lot more questions than you had originally intended on asking.

“What do you want?” His words were direct, his tone short and clipped, drained from what on the outside seemed to be quite an eventful day.

“I-I, uh…I’m sorry, but what happened to you?” You breathed out. You had more pressing concerns, but you couldn’t help but wonder why King Steve of Hawkins High looked like absolute shit.

“I don’t have time for this,” he sighed as he began to shut the door.

You reached your hand through just in time to catch it as you shoved your way into the Harrington household. You knew his parents were likely on some sort of fancy business trip, so they wouldn’t be there to reprimand you for your actions. It’s what made Steve’s house the prime destination for the biggest parties in Hawkins. Parties you were rarely, if ever, invited to.

“What the hell are you doing?! I barely even know you and now you’re breaking and fucking entering into my goddamn house!”

“Technically, I’m just entering. You opened the door.”

“Are you kidding me right now, y/n?”

You were surprised he even knew your name. You tended to blend into the background, flying under the radar in your attempt to make good enough grades to maybe, just maybe, give yourself a fighting chance at attending college on scholarships. “Will you just hear me out. Please.”

You must have sounded desperate because Steve’s furrowed brow relaxed, his expression softening before he rolled his eyes, sitting down on a pristine white couch saying, “Fine. But make it quick because I have a raging headache and my patience is wearing thin.”

You breathed in a deep breath before you rattled off your reason for trespassing.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but I happen to babysit Dustin Henderson—or, well to be more accurate, I just started babysitting Dustin Henderson since Jonathon Byers’ brother disappeared—and everything was going fine one minute, but then I went to check on him in his room because he was being awfully quiet, and then I noticed his window was open and he must’ve snuck out, and—“

He cut you off, “Woah, woah, woah. How does any of this concern me? I mean, it’s not my fault you’re clearly a shit babysitter and can’t keep track of some seventh grader.”

“If you would just let me finish,” you warned through gritted teeth, “I’m aware of the fact that it doesn’t concern you, but I’ve been looking all over for him and I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve checked the Sinclair’s, I’ve checked the Wheeler’s, I’ve checked every location a seventh grade nerd might frequent, nothing. So, yeah, though it doesn’t concern you, I thought I might find Nancy here, given the fact that the two of you have obviously been going out, to ask her where the hell her brother is so that maybe, just maybe, I could find the damn kid I’m babysitting before I get fired from my fucking job. Now, if you could stop being so goddamn selfish for once in your life, I would really appreciate the help.”

Steve paused for a moment while he considered this. Being called selfish stung, but you weren’t wrong. The events leading to the myriad of injuries across his face seemed to prove just that. However, there was something about you in particular saying it that cut deep. You were seemingly so perfect, granted a bit odd. You were nice, you made good grades, but other than that he didn’t know much about you, so the expletive-laced explanation was a bit out of place coming from your mouth.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re a little too late to find Nancy here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she didn’t say it, but I take it things are probably pretty over between us.”

This was surprising to say the least. Nancy Wheeler wasn’t someone who you would have guessed would go for a total asshole jock like Steve, but even you had to admit, he was easy on the eyes. Your heart skipped a bit at the thought, as you suddenly also remembered that you basically broke into the house of the most popular kid at your high school. One whom you’d never really spoken to in any meaningful sense before this very instant.

“What happened?” You asked hesitantly, taking a step towards Steve as your fingers hovered over his forearm. Even though you hated nearly everything Steve stood for—popularity, prosperity, assholery—you felt compelled to comfort him. Something about him was different than you expected. When he didn’t pull away, you let your hand rest there.

“Well, speaking of Jonathan Byers, we kind of got into…an altercation. I would like to say that I won, but I think it’s clear that I didn’t. I was with Tommy H and Carol and he spray painted a bunch of awful shit about Nancy and Jonathan all over town, and I didn’t stop him, so yeah, things aren’t what I would call good between me and Nancy right now.”

Your comforting instinct told you to apologize, sympathize, but you weren’t going to condone his actions. You’d seen the “Nancy ‘the Slut’ Wheeler” graffiti earlier in your mad dash to locate Dustin. Though you didn’t know her super well, Nancy had been nothing but nice to you and she definitely didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.

“Well, how do you…feel about it?” You asked gently, internally cringing at your anxiety forcing you to find something to fill the silence with.

“I mean, definitely not good. I was an ass, and I know it, and as much as I hate that I screwed things up with Nancy, I think I’m more so realizing how shitty I was to Jonathan. I mean, he’s got enough going on without me making things more difficult…I need to make things right.” He stood up abruptly, quickly grabbing his car keys from a likely expensive decorative dish on the side table by the door.

“Woah, wait! You’re just going to leave me?” You asked incredulously. “Steve, I-I….I need help.”

“You can come with me,” he responded as he spun his keys around his index finger.

“What?”

“To the Byers’ house? You know, kill two birds with one stone? I apologize to Jonathan, you ask about the Henderson kid. Hell, you might even luck out and find him there, so what do you say?” He explained as he placed his hand gently on your back, leading you out the front door, down the driveway to his car. You tried not to think about the way his hand felt on the expanse of your back. Before you could say no, he was opening the passenger’s side door for you.

Your eyes met his, your mouth slightly parted as you weighed your options. Sure, you could handle yourself fine on the way to Jonathan’s house…but then on the other hand, Steve had a car and you didn’t, and with all of the weird things going on in Hawkins recently, it was probably best not to be a young woman walking around on her own, especially now that you were losing light. Safety reasons aside, the element that settled the internal argument for you was the look in Steve’s eyes. He wanted to do better. He wanted to be better. Who were you to deny him that?

You breathed in once more, shaking your head as you breathed out. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

Being in Steve’s car was, needless to say, a bit awkward. You both had your own problems, brought together by chaos and regret, a combination which didn’t make for great small talk.

“So, Nancy Wheeler, huh?” You asked in an attempt to ease the tension, needing to rid the car of the weight of the uncomfortable silence.

“Yep,” Steve muttered, eyes focused on the road.

“She’s pretty cool. I mean, she’s always been nice to me.”

“She’s the best.”

You weren’t sure why, but this comment made your heart sink a little in your chest. Though Nancy had always been nice, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of her. She stood out in a way that you never could. She was smart but had the money to back it up, which, in terms of social status, meant that she mattered and you didn’t. You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely functioning, picking up odd jobs all the time just to support yourself in the way your family couldn’t. You barely had the time to study or have fun, becoming the background character to everyone else’s life. Hell, you weren’t even sure you had a starring role in your own. She was also pretty in a way that you could never be, with her big blue eyes and thin frame making clearly even the douchiest of douchebags swoon. Steve was living proof.

“Y/n? Did you even hear anything I just said?” Steve’s voice finally flooded your consciousness, drawing you away from your thoughts and feelings of inadequacy.

You shook your head trying to clear out the negativity. “Sorry! I was-I just zoned out for a second, my bad,” You chuckled, your smile not quite reaching your eyes.

“I asked you why you were babysitting the Henderson kid anyway. It just seems like something that you wouldn’t be interested in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, you’re…different. Yeah, you’re nice and make good grades and whatever, but you’re also pretty edgy. You seem like one of those weird, alt kids that would be into like pretty heavy music and shit, and babysitting just seems a little too suburban-status-quo for someone like you.”

You stared at him blankly, not really sure how to answer given that his words were more a statement of assumptions rather than a question. You opened your mouth to speak, but he interjected before you could even say anything.

“That came out wrong. What I’m saying is that you’ve always struck me as a little bit intimidating because you’re actually an individual; you don’t follow the crowd which, I mean, is admirable, but babysitting? Come on. I’m as stereotypical as they come, and I wouldn’t even babysit, especially not for some thirteen-year-old misfit who seems like more of a handful than its worth.”

“Well, for starters, you’re a guy, so no shit you’re not babysitting the youth of Hawkins, and also, I just need the money, which I’m sure is a foreign concept to you. And babysitting is kind of a piece of cake…normally. Henderson is a special case; he’s too smart for his own good.”

Steve laughed and you blushed, grateful for the darkness to hide the heat in your cheeks. His words felt like they were trying to be a compliment, but you weren’t sure how to interpret them. You guessed that maybe you stood out at least a little bit more than you had initially thought. By his description, people must be noticing you to some extent. He was noticing you.

You shook your head at the thought. What had gotten into you? Half an hour ago you hated this man, but now you weren’t too sure. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.

With Hawkins being a small town in rural Indiana, the drive was not long, so your conversation ended here as you pulled up to the Byers’ residence. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw the tarp-covered hole in the front of the house. From speaking with Mrs. Henderson, you knew how much of a toll her son’s disappearance had taken on Joyce. Both of you got out of the car and you made your way to the front door.

Steve knocked. When there was no response, he banged on the door again. “Jonathan! Are you there man? It’s—it’s Steve! Listen, I just want to talk.”

He continued to bang on the door. You were about to reach up and stop him, tell him that it was enough and clearly no one was home, when the door opened a crack and you were met eye to eye with Nancy Wheeler. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw you, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second before her expression settled and her brows furrowed.

“Steve, listen to me.”

“Hey. Nancy, what—“

“You need to leave. Both of you,” she added as she turned to meet your eyes. She was serious, her expression stern, but there was something else there…desperation maybe?

“I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” Steve pleaded. It didn’t make a difference, as Nancy had clearly made up her mind.

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave. Now.”

“No, no, listen, I messed up…I messed up, and I just want to make things right.” Steve was desperate, you could hear it in his voice. You wanted to try and reason with Nancy, speak on behalf of Steve, but it wasn’t your place. You went to cast your gaze downwards, trying to give the two of them a private moment, but Nancy’s gauze-wrapped hand caught your eye instead.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” You asked hesitantly, brow furrowed, “is that…is that blood?”

You went to gently reach for her hand but she quickly drew it back and out of sight, but it was too late. Say what you will about Steve, but he was protective to a fault, and in seeing Nancy hurt, any desire to make things right with Jonathan quickly dissipated.

“It’s nothing! It-It was an accident.”

“Wait a sec. Did he do this to you? Nancy, let me in!” Steve demanded as he pushed into the Byers’ home, not dissimilar to how you had intruded upon the Harrington residence earlier. You entered behind him. Under any normal circumstances, you probably would have felt awkward, but instead you were too preoccupied with Steve’s short temper and the fires you knew you would inevitably have to put out.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the premonition to know the literal nature of that preoccupation.

Crossing the threshold of the Byers’ residence, you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at, but it did make your heart stop in your chest. You momentarily locked eyes with Jonathan as you looked around the room. There were multicolored lights strewn about the whole house, makeshift weapons on the coffee table, the entire alphabet painted sloppily on the wallpaper, and Jonathan’s hand had the same blood soaked gauze as Nancy’s.

“What is…what the…what is all of this?” Steve demanded.

“You need to get out of here. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Jonathan grabbed the fabric of Steve’s shirt attempting to force him out of the living room, but Steve planted his feet.

“Is that….is that gasoline?!” You stammered as the rest of your senses finally showed up. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and you felt like at any moment you might have a panic attack. You took a shaky breath as you attempted to calm yourself down.

“Steve! Get out!” Nancy shouted. The distinct click of a gun rang out, and Steve froze, eyes fixed on the revolver in Nancy’s hand, pointed directly at him. Jonathan’s grip loosened on Steve’s shirt as he stepped away, shock registering on his face as well.

Something was obviously very wrong. You pushed your anxiety deep down in your chest, and you took a step forward. If I could just talk to her, you thought, I can deescalate this.

“Nancy—“ you began cautiously, but as soon as you took a step she pivoted and now you were the one staring down the barrel of a gun. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly raised trembling hands in front of your chest. “I think you need to calm down.”

“I think you need to leave,” she responded, her voice icy. Suddenly, Steve bounded forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you behind him. Once you were hidden behind his tall figure, you allowed yourself to break down a little, pressing yourself against him for some semblance of security.

“Is this a joke, Nancy? Put the gun down!”

“I’m doing this for you.”

“What is this?! What does that even mean?” He yelled back at her, but his words weren’t doing anything to help. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, and his grip tightened. He was holding onto you just as much as you were holding onto him, with a fistful of his shirt balled into your delicate hand as you attempted to ground yourself. It felt intimate, and if it weren’t for your current predicament, you would have been embarrassed.

“Three. Two—“

“Nancy! The lights!” Jonathan shouted, and you peeled your face away from the solace of Steve’s back, watching as the lights flickered with a raging entropy, making it nearly impossible for your eyes to navigate the small room.

“Where is it? I don’t see it!” Nancy cried out and for the first time in the craze of blinking lights and shouting, you saw the fear on her face, her previous stoic facade shattering in the chaos. Seeing the fright in her eyes made your stomach drop, as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

Something was very, very wrong.

“Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?!” Steve shouted and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Even with the family room being sporadically lit up like a Christmas tree, you and Steve were very much still in the dark.

No sooner had he said it did the ceiling begin to crack, something large writhing as it made its way into the small house from above. Nancy began shooting at it as you stood frozen. Finally, it burst through the drywall, falling to the floor on all fours. If someone asked you to describe what you had seen, you weren’t sure what you would’ve even said. It had pale skin, nearly translucent, and made an awful chattering sound as it started to gather its bearings.

“Go! Go! Run! Go!” Jonathan started shouting as he grabbed Nancy around the waist and shoved her in front of him as she darted down the hall. Steve turned around and did the same, his hands harshly grabbing at your sides to redirect you as you formed a human chain; Jonathan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, and your other hand wrapped around Steve’s as you made a mad dash to the bedroom at the end of the hall.

In all the commotion you barely heard Jonathan shout “jump!” narrowly missing the open bear trap on the floor. You shrieked and willed yourself to be coordinated for once in your damn life as you hurdled over the metal teeth of the trap, blindly trusting that Steve’s athleticism would kick in and he would do the same. A low growl sounded out just as the bedroom door slammed shut behind Steve, his momentum causing him to collide into you. You would have toppled over if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, as he reached out to steady your shoulders.

“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s all going to be okay,” Steve frantically whispered, his hands still holding together your shaking form, as you stumbled backwards and collapsed down on the bed. His lips were dangerously close to your ear, and he brought a hand to the base of your neck, drawing his fingers down to your shoulder to reassure you. He was barely holding it together himself, scared out of his mind, but he brought you into this mess and he was determined to protect you first. “What the hell was that?!”

“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan yelled in unison. Everyone’s gaze then fixed on the yoyo that was precariously draped over the chair. Your heart thundered in your ears, your eyes welling with tears as you held your breath and waited. The lights continued to flicker, until a jolt of electricity rang out and they became static. The silence was unnerving.

“Do you hear anything?” Nancy asked.

Jonathan shook his head and slowly opened the door. The four of you stepped into the quiet of the hallway, eyes fixed on the undisturbed bear trap in the middle of the carpet. You all cautiously made your way back to the disheveled family room of the Byers’ house, Nancy and Jonathan prepped with their weapons in hand.

“This is…this—this is crazy!” Steve shouted, running his hands through his perfect hair.

You tugged on his sleeve trying to draw his attention away from what just happened; this was already a shit show, the last thing you needed was Steve losing his mind. “Steve, you need to calm down,” you begged, still shaken from before.

“Y/n, how the hell am I supposed to calm down?! This isn’t a situation where you can calm the fuck down! What the hell is going on?!” He continued to shout, grabbing your wrist and shoving it away. You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt. You hated how quickly he had gone from comforting to cold.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Nancy spoke up, “It’s going to come back! So you need to leave. Right now.”

Steve grabbed your wrist, your body lurching as your trajectory quickly changed, the inertia causing you to stumble while your feet attempted to keep up with Steve’s large strides. Steve fumbled with his keys as you reached the car. His shaky hands finally unlocked the door and he swung it open, about to sit when he realized that you had stopped following him, still positioned in front of the house.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Steve, we can’t leave, are you kidding me? They’re in way over their heads. They need help.”

“It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you in there. It’s not up for discussion,” Steve argued, stepping around the door and reaching out to grab your wrist again. You quickly stepped back, pulling your hands out of his reach.

“Y/n, you’re not going back in there. I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I,” you shot back, turning back towards the door. You heard him call out your name again, but you were already through the front door, back in the discomfort of the Byers’ family room.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here? I said to leave,” Nancy warned.

“I’m not leaving. You guys need help, and I want to help.”

“Y/n—“ Jonathan began, but his warning was cut short when the lights began to flash again. You quickly grabbed a large kitchen knife from the pile of improvised weapons on the coffee table and met Nancy and Jonathan back to back in the center of the room.

“Where is it?” You asked, trying to shove the fear in your chest down, hoping it was a false alarm, that the wiring was screwy, that you were safe.

“Come out, you son of a bitch!” Jonathan yelled out. You willed your hands not to shake as you tightened your grip on the handle of the knife. Suddenly the lights went out, plunging the room into inky black darkness. You blinked rapidly, a futile attempt to get your eyes to adjust to the pitch black room.

You heard a low growl before Nancy exclaimed, “Y/N!”

You spun around, eyes meeting the nine-foot hulking form of whatever the hell this thing was, standing less than a foot from you. You didn’t even have time to scream as it lunged at you, pinning you to the floor. Your knife fell from your grasp, clamoring across the hardwood. You wish you could go back to when you hadn’t had a good look at the monster. Now you stared wide eyed as its face opened up revealing countless rows of razor sharp teeth as it shrieked, spewing thick drool across your face.

“Help me! Please! Nancy!” You screamed out as you writhed under the pressure of the beast. Its clawed fingers began tightening around your upper arm, ripping into your skin as you cried out in pain. It reared back to scream its ear piercing scream again, but something collided with it, knocking it off-kilter. Its long claws dragged across the flesh of your arm, etching larger gashes as its grip began to release.

You took this opportunity to slip away, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees as you grabbed the kitchen knife, turning around to slash the monster’s achilles. It cried out, turning back towards you, this time far angrier than it had been in the first place. This was when you realized that the collision from before had been Steve, swinging Jonathan’s nail bat as hard as he could at the creature.

He had come back for you.

He continued to swing the bat with all his might, causing the monster to stumble backwards until the resonant clang of metal hitting against metal rang out.

“He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!” Steve yelled out, causing the rest of you to spring into action.

“Jonathan, now!” Nancy shouted. Jonathan hurtled around the corner, the unmistakable flick of a lighter sounding out before he tossed it in the gasoline soaked carpet. The hallway erupted in flames that were almost too bright to bear, as the four of you covered your eyes. You took this opportunity to sprint back to the family room, quickly grabbing the fire extinguisher laid out on the rug, before bounding back to the hallway.

“Get back!” You shouted as you desperately tried to put out the fire before you were all suffocated in a fiery mix of ash and smoke. You all coughed as the smoke cleared, revealing that the monster had disappeared, no longer stuck between the teeth of the bear trap.

“Where did it go?” Nancy hesitantly asked.

“It has to be dead. It has to be,” Jonathan said, though it seemed more like he was saying it to convince himself; to speak it into existence.

Suddenly the string lights started blinking again, this time in a line leading toward them in the hallway. Your breath caught in your throat, and Steve protectively pushed himself in front of you and Nancy. The lights then blinked again, this time in a line towards the front door. This time they weren’t the erratic display of chaos from earlier, but rather an orderly demonstration of cosmos. The four of you cautiously followed the lights, weapons drawn just in case.

“Mom?” You heard Jonathan quietly ask. His eyes welled with tears, and you immediately wanted to hug the boy. He’d been through so much. He didn’t deserve this; none of you did.

You followed the lights outside the house, watching the streetlight gently flicker before all trace of the paranormal phenomenon dissipated.

“Where’s it going?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t think that’s the monster,” Jonathan responded. He didn’t elaborate and none of you asked.

Steve quickly turned to you, gently grabbing your wrist. “Y/n, you’re bleeding,” he said, his eyes widening as they focused on your blood soaked sleeve.

“It doesn’t matter. Where’s Dustin? Please tell me one of you knows,” you turned to ask Nancy and Jonathan, both of them caught off guard by your question.

“Uh, I think it really does matter, y/n. We don’t even know what the hell that thing was! You can’t just ignore—“

“They’re at the school,” Nancy interrupted. She wanted to argue with you too, to tell you that you definitely needed medical attention, but she also knew you weren’t going to listen. Hell, you’d just run back into a house with an inter-dimensional threat so her and Jonathan wouldn’t have to face it on their own.

You turned back towards Steve. “Steve, I promise I’ll let you take me to the urgent care or the hospital or whatever if you just please let me go make sure he’s okay,” you pleaded. Tears were welling in your eyes and Steve realized that he wasn’t going to be able to say no to you.

“Fine, but this is fucked up.”

***

By the time you pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins middle, it was swarming with police cars and emergency vehicles. You felt nauseous and negligent, as you frantically scanned, looking for the curly mop of hair hidden under a baseball cap. Before Steve stopped the car, you flung your door open, jogging across the lot, calling out for the boy.

“Dustin! Dustin Henderson!”

“Woah, woah, woah! You can’t just jump out of a moving vehicle!” Steve caught up with you. He wanted to reach out and put a hand on your shoulder to rein you in a little, but he decided against it, not recalling which one was torn up. You had to be in excruciating pain, but you didn’t show it. She’s pretty damn tough, Steve thought to himself. Suddenly, you both saw the Henderson boy, chatting away with Lucas Sinclair, as if nothing had happened.

“Henderson!” You growled, marching across the parking lot towards the young child.

“Y/n, I can explain—“

“Do you have any idea the hell I just went through trying to find your ass?! Where the hell were you?!”

“You’re not going to believe me, but there’s this alternate—wait, what the hell happened to your arm?”

You looked at Steve, trying to silently decide how much to tell the young boy. He was just a kid; he didn’t need to be mixed up in all of this, and neither did Lucas. To be perfectly honest, neither did the two of you, but you couldn’t change what happened. You broke eye contact with Steve and looked at Dustin, lips slightly parted as you tried to find the right words to say. Before you could even say anything, Dustin broke the silence.

“It was the demogorgon, wasn’t it?”

“What in the fresh hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, growing tired of this kid who had inadvertently caused you to risk your life trying to find him instead of just listening to his damn babysitter.

“Monster, big and scary, likely inter-dimensional?”

“You…But how do you…you know about all of this?” You asked, your heart sinking knowing that you couldn’t protect him from this.

“It took Will, and we’ve been trying to find him,” Lucas chimed in.

“B-but…but there was a funeral. He died,” you stammered, your heart aching this time as you thought back to Jonathan and Joyce and how miserable they had been over the loss of the young child.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry I snuck out but it was to find Will. I can explain the rest but it’s going to take a while and you might want to sit down,” Dustin hesitantly spoke.

“You’re so damn lucky your mom is out of town for the next few days,” you spoke through gritted teeth, but you sat down and you listened to the boy.

***

After his explanation, you and Steve were, needless to say, a bit stunned and speechless. How the hell did three middle school boys figure all of that out? And a girl with a shaved head and super powers? You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that Hawkins Chief of Police Jim Hopper knew about all of this either. What was there that you could trust? Your head started to spin and you were getting a bit nauseous at the thought.

“I mean, this is wild Henderson. It’s borderline unbelievable,” Steve chided. Dustin’s eyes widened and his face reddened, clearly mad that Steve wasn’t buying his story.

“Are you serious right now, Steve? You saw it! You saw the damn demogorgon! How could you possibly deny that—“

“I said borderline unbelievable, shit bird. Obviously I know some strange shit is going on, it’s just still fucking insane.”

You couldn’t agree more with him as you attempted to stand up, but your vision blurred and you stumbled. You would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t immediately shot up to catch and steady you.

“Woah, y/n, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Steve’s eyes were darting all across your face. He wished he could read your mind but you just stared up at him with those eyes and it all remained a mystery.

“I think she needs to get that checked out. She’s losing a lot of blood,” Lucas chimed in, his brow furrowed under his camo bandana. He pointed at your blood soaked sleeve, and everyone simultaneously realized that blood was now dripping down your hand, the fabric no longer able to hold anymore liquid.

“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Let me just walk it off. I’ll be okay,” you tried to sound confident, but your speech was slurred and there were dark spots invading your vision. Steve gently patted at the side of your face, attempting to keep you conscious.

“Y/n, just stay with us. We’re going to get you help. Just keep those pretty eyes open for me. Y/n, please!” He sounded desperate, and you fought to stay awake. The next thing you knew, he was carrying you, attempting to make it to an ambulance to get your wounds assessed by a real medical professional.

“Hey, we need you to take us to a hospital right now,” Steve spoke quickly as he sprinted to one of the EMTs on scene.

“What happened to her?”

“It’s a long story. Please sir,” Steve’s voice began to falter. The EMT gestured for Steve to hop in the back of the ambulance where he gingerly placed you on the gurney. Lucas and Dustin swiftly followed suit, going to hop into the ambulance, but the EMT stepped in front of the boys to stop them.

“Woah, where do you think you’re going?”

“Sir, if you could please let them come with us. We babysit them and I can’t leave them here by themselves,” Steve argued. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was the best he had to work with to convince the guy to take Sinclair and Henderson with them. Dustin looked at him with confusion, mouthing the word “we?” before Steve shot him a warning glance to fix his face before their story was invalidated.

You woke up in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. You were no longer in your blood soaked clothes, your frame fitted with a hospital gown instead. You looked over to your left arm which had since been stitched up and was now wrapped in gauze, the bleeding slowing to a stop.

“Steve?” You called out, hoping he was still with you.

“Y/n! You’re awake!” He exclaimed rushing over to the side of the bed. You’d been out for the past hour. They had sedated you once you arrived at the hospital, saying it would be easier to tend to your wounds that way.

“Today didn’t really go how I thought it would.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve chuckled.

“I mean, my worst fear earlier was that I was going to get fired. I can tell you that I have significantly worse fears than that now,” you hated crying in front of people, with Steve being the last person you wanted to be vulnerable in front of, but you couldn’t help it as your eyes welled up and one stubborn tear slid down your cheek. Steve was quick to wipe it away, his hand reaching down to hold yours.

“I know, but on the bright side, I think you might be the most qualified babysitter in Hawkins,” Steve tried desperately to make you smile. It worked as you let out a wet laugh through your sob.

“I mean, I guess so,” you chuckled, your cheeks heating up at the compliment.

“You guess so? I know so. I don’t know anybody who would fight a monster with that many fucking teeth for some kid.”

“Nancy would,” you reminded him, your voice getting small again. The light in his eyes suddenly dissipated and he let go of your hand.

“Yeah, no, you’re probably right. I guess we’d all make pretty damn good babysitters,” he averted eye contact, preferring to look at his hands. In the time he’d been spending with you, he kind of forgot about Nancy. He felt guilty.

“You should talk to her, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure she’s probably ready to put whatever happened between the two of you behind her. I mean, you really stepped up when it mattered today,” you added. You weren’t sure why you were saying it because the thought of him going back to Nancy made your heart ache, but maybe you weren’t ready for the alternative. You weren’t ready for him to look at you the way he looked at her. Not that you thought he would, but you just felt the need to create some distance. A lot had happened and this wasn’t the way you wanted him to realize you were something special, something to hold onto.

“Yeah, I guess…I mean, I guess I’ll go talk to her. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He looked you in the eye. Instead of seeing annoyance or indifference, you saw something new for a change: sincerity.

“Promise.”

He gave you a small smile, pausing in the doorway as he took one last look at you. You did a small wave goodbye, reassuring him that you’d be okay. With that, he took a breath and turned the corner, making his way back to the hospital waiting room where him and Nancy would patch things up. There was something about you though; something he couldn’t quite get out of his head.

He also had a sinking feeling in his chest that this wasn’t the end of whatever was going on in Hawkins. He had a feeling that the danger would linger, lurking in the shadows. He pushed the feeling aside and smiled weakly at Nancy, moving to sit in the empty chair next to her.

***

a/n: I hope y’all liked it; in theory there’s more to come (like I said earlier it’s gonna be a slow burn so yeah lol). If you feel so inspired to reboot this post that would also be pretty dope and I’d be eternally grateful <3

[imalwaysaslutforthevoid]

The Summer Hikaru Died and onomatopoeia

I've wanted to gush about this topic for a while and i have no organized thoughts but a lot of feelings i need to get out. First and foremost being "Holy shit this manga is so damn loud" which is a weird feeling to have since manga is generally understood to be a silent medium.

And yet the Mangaka MokuMoku Ren has filled their work to the brim with sound. Now comics using onomatopoeia (words that echo a noise ie: crunch) is nothing new the sound of a fist hitting it's target and walls being wrecked is nothing new. But usually onomatopoeia is worked into whatever action is resulting in the noise

adding both a sense of motion as well as sound. Which is what makes The Summer Hikaru Died's use of it so unique and compelling. To utilize onomatopoiea you have to give up on space that could otherwise be going to deatil work in the background or foreground. Now this is fine with smaller unobtrusive effects like Wolverine's claw extending, and there's numerous example's where a sound will take up large portions of the page to show how loud something like a bomb going off is. But i've yet to see another comic western or otherwise so consistently use this facet of the medium to instill such claustrophobia and dread. As a slower paced horror manga The Summer Hikaru Died builds it's suspense mostly through atomosphere, the supernatural happenings weighing on the surrounding evironment until they break the surface

The use of sound is heavy, it's harsh, it's a vehicle to show how wrong things have gotten from the whisper of "it's coming" heard in the ringing bell of a train crossing to the omnipresent call of birds, bugs, and frogs that pushes in on the paneling shrinking the world with their cacophony.

the way sound shrinks the world making reader and character both feel suffocated by the drone is matched by how the manga uses silence as a way to make the characters feel exposed and vulnerable. the page is now empty of distraction the world of the story on full display and it still feels wrong it's agorophobic, at least amidst the din there was some sense of anonymity being just one voice among hundrends.

even the speech bubble feels out of place as it wanders off desperate to fill the space. The manga is full of these moments of sound and silence in some dance with eachother always too much or too little, never comfortable. It adds a lot to the horror of the manga, and is just one part of many that makes The Summer Hikaru Died such an excellent manga, every chapter I can feel my skin crawl as the setting becomes more hostile to the charactres while they uncover more of the truth of their circumstances.

[vendetta-if]

Chapter 6 Part 3 + Major System Public Update! 🎉

Hello everyone! 👋 It's finally time for the public update! 😁 This update brings in 24K of new words, bringing Chapter 6 wordcount in total to 89.4K words and the total demo wordcount to 325.3K words! This update brings Chapter 6 to a neat close, which is important because to me, Chapter 6 is like the end of the first arc of the book. 

Not only that, but I have also added a few major coding functions with this update, namely, a skip chapter function, and an autosave and reload function. I'm aware that my demo is getting longer, so I assume a skip chapter function might  be a welcome addition. 

It took me a long time to plan and figure out how to implement these systems, but in the end, after a lot of personal testing, I have finally managed to make them work.

WARNING: It's highly advised that you either play from the beginning with clean saves (or try out the new skip chapter function). I messed with some of the old variables as well, including Santana's and Skylar's default relationship values. Do not reload the saves to avoid potential future errors.

What's to expect from the new update:

Dropping Rin off to their apartment (and maybe, if you've been a good boy/girl, you can get a little smooch 😘)

Have an angsty talk with Uncle Luka 😥

But don't worry, there are potential wholesome moments too (if you choose them, of course 😉)

Another POV of the killer 😈 To see more on how they think and what they know so far.

Brand new skip chapter function! (Currently only for Chapter 6)

An autosave and reload function! (Currently only for Chapter 6)

Plus some new little stuff added in previous chapters.

New stuff added to previous chapters:

Chapter 2: Add proper introduction scene with Ivan and Boris, the twin bodyguards, highlighting their different personalities and their relationship with MC and Ash. They have changed quite a lot and become more fleshed out compared to the first time I wrote them.

Chapter 4: For MCs who said yes to Yvette when she asked them whether they are interested in becoming a Superhero, you now have the option to accept her guidance and reconnect with her or reject her guidance but still have a choice whether to reconnect with her or not. This is in contrast to how those who said yes was forced to reconnect with her.

Chapter 6: Meddle, fix, and add some background variables. Another reason to play from the beginning and to not load old saves.

Also, I have a side story just released on both Patreon and Ko-Fi and a spicy one coming really soon! I'm also still opening ideas/suggestions for this month's side stories until November 11th and then after that, we'll have our polls! So if you're also interested in supporting me while also getting these exclusive contents, please do consider becoming a member! 💖🥰

[DEMO] | [PATREON] | [KO-FI] | [COG FORUM] | [DISCORD]

[comicaurora]

Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.