#next on my update list is bring us home ^-^

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS in Hogwarts AU

AN: Hi anon, thank you for requesting. This was an awesome one to write. Some of these could be multi chaptered but alas I am a woman of few words and even meagre attention span.

Request: a request!! harry potter au :D love and deepspace and harry potter are my two favourites ^^ thank you!!!

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Ingredients: 100% Fluff (damn, this is rare)

My Fav: Sylus and Caleb...this is a trend (tell me which ones you like pls)

Xavier:

He is the legacy Slytherin. Pureblood prince of a faraway kingdom, the kind with a family vault older than the castle and buildings named after them.

He sleeps through class but still scores the highest. Doesn’t take notes, but his potions always come out textbook perfect, somehow even better than the textbook.

Even Snape, ever the grump, seems to favor him.

He was your enemy. At least, he was supposed to be.

The nepo baby. The one who walked into Hogwarts with an heirloom wand and a last name that made professors stand up straighter.

You, who ran away from home for magic, scraping together acceptance letters and scholarships, walking into the castle with nerves and nothing else. You, who earned your place.

You hated him. Hated how the system seemed built for boys like him. How Slytherin’s points climbed every time he so much as blinked. How he didn’t fight for the respect he got. He just had it.

And worst of all? He was nice.

Quietly. Gently. Infuriatingly nice.

He held doors open without thinking. Helped carry books for first-years. Always paired with the struggling students in class because, “Well, they need a win, don’t they?”

He never rubbed it in. Never gloated. Never treated you like you were less, which made it worse, somehow. Because you wanted to hate him. Needed to.

But then he looked at you, really looked at you, and smiled like you were someone worth smiling at.

And that… was the beginning of the end.

Rafayel:

You sighed when yet another chair was dragged next to yours at the Hogwarts staff table. At this rate, they might just push you off the end completely.

But alas, such is the fate of a muggle-subjects professor in a school where “Calculus” might as well be a curse word. You’re used to the disinterest, the disapproval. The dark arts will always win over derivatives.

You’re halfway through mentally drafting your resignation letter when the new professor takes his seat, by replacing his legs with an enormous siren tail and dramatically splashing half your legroom away.

"Hello," he says, smiling with too many teeth. "Rafayel. Art professor. Lovely to meet you."

You stare. Shake his webbed hand. Stammer your name.

And then it hits you.

Arts. No magic.

Another outsider. Well—not quite the same. But close enough.

To your complete dismay, Rafayel’s subject is met with none of the disdain yours is. Students flock to his class like he’s handing out enchanted paintbrushes dipped in prophecy. Somehow, he’s the cool muggle professor.

You want to be mad.

But he keeps bringing you snacks during staff meetings. And drawing you in charcoal between grading.

So maybe you forgive him. A little.

Zayne:

“Classroom windows need to be elevated above the two-foot mark,” the man drones, leading you through Hogwarts like he built it himself.

The Ministry has to be trolling you. There’s no other explanation for sending him again.

Zayne. The most regulation-obsessed official alive. The man who’s turned passive-aggression into an Olympic sport.

“Yes, of course, Zayne,” you smile with false sweetness. “Filch and I will get right on it.” (Translation: I will do it while Filch glares and mutters about unions.)

He ignores you. Of course he does. Groundskeepers aren’t worth Ministry time.

Then he stops, turns, and hands you a thick folder. “Every storage hinge in the castle needs to be updated to a new spell protocol. Instructions inside.”

You want to hurl it at his head.

Instead, you smile. “Got it.”

What you don’t know: Zayne spent weeks compiling that list. Researching every obscure policy he could dig up.

All just to have an excuse to come talk to you.

He even bribed Filch to stay out of the way.

So that later, when you’re elbow-deep in cursed cabinet screws, he can show up with dinner.

Professionally, of course.

He’s not an amateur.

Sylus:

The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was… a piece of work.

Many a student, mostly girls, a few brave boys, and one very dramatic portrait on the third floor, called him a work of art.

You agreed.

Which was fair, considering you hired him.

Sylus. Your oldest friend. Keeper of far too many of your secrets. Former war general, occasional assassin, and man bound by an ancient oath not to die. Because of course he is.

Was it an HR nightmare? Absolutely.

Did it matter? Not even a little.

You’re the principal with the most peaceful term Hogwarts has seen in decades. No cursed classrooms. No dark lords. No goblin incidents in the West Tower.

They can’t afford to question your hiring decisions, not when it’s working. Even if “working” currently includes the students placing bets on whether the two of you are dating, dueling, or doomed.

There are whispers. Screams, really. Squeals in the hallways every time Sylus leans a little too close during staff meetings. Every time he calls you, by your name, letting go of the official address, with that knowing smile that turns half the seventh-years into puddles.

You pretend not to notice. You also pretend not to see the doodles left behind in your healing arts studies classroom, little hearts drawn in ink, a chemical formula twisted cleverly into your ship name.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," you murmur with a smirk, holding up the notebook for him to see.

Caleb:

They called it the sweetest story in Diagon Alley.

The Quidditch coach who kept showing up at the same little pub after every match, “for the butterbeer,” he claimed.

(He absolutely couldn’t handle it. Turned red after two sips. Giggled after three. Once tried to do a victory dance and knocked over an entire broom display.)

And the innkeeper, you, who always kept a room open. “Just in case,” you said, as if he wasn’t the reason you looked out the window every Friday night.

Together, you became the unofficial mom and dad to every half-injured, half-homesick player who passed through. Post-win snacks. Pep talks before tryouts. Holiday dinners for those who didn’t go home.

You weren’t just a couple. Your relationship was a blessing.

So of course, when Caleb finally proposed, it had to be with the team. After a big win. Pub packed, cheers echoing off the enchanted ceiling.

He slipped the ring into your butterbeer. A cute idea, in theory.

But you’d just taken a deep sip when he got down on one knee.

Cue: choking, gasping, sputtering.

Half the league panicked. Someone shouted, “She’s dying!” And Caleb, red-faced and frantic, performed the Heimlich in front of two full tables of junior league athletes and at least one reporter.

The ring did come out. Eventually.

You said yes, coughing.

He cried anyway. Ugly, happy, overjoyed tears.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes (silverfox)

Note: Friday at last and my house guest is away for a couple days.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky plants his feet as the bike comes to a stop. You look up at the duplex and your insides get all swirly. You're home and still giddy. You've made up your mind. It's now or never.

He shuts off the engine and waits for you to get off first. You hang onto his shoulder for balance as you hop down. He gets off without much effort and heaves a dark sigh. He hesitates and you do too.

"That was awesome, Bucky," you shimmy. 

"Mm," he drones and flinches, moving toward the saddle bag. He unbuckles it and takes out the cookies. "Don't forget these."

You take them reluctantly and he hauls out his bag of groceries. He wraps one arm around it and lets the flap fall open. He faces you as you clutch the box to your chest. Don't let him do it. He can't send you away now.

"Hey, you want... want to try some? I could make us some tea."

His eyes dart to the side then he looks down at the bag. He fidgets and shifts on his feet. He looks at you and his forehead lines. He deflates just a little as you watch him with rounded, hopeful eyes.

"Sure, I should get the yogurt in the fridge though so why don't you come in?" He relents.

You could fist pump and jump in glee. You don't. You're not that lame. You bounce and smile.

"Oh, yay," you grin, "so you got everything set up?"

"Hm, not much. Still got a few things to grab," he grits.

You walk up the steps beside him and stand aside, waiting for him to unlock the door. He keeps the screen door open with his elbow then pauses before he pushes open the inner one. He sniffs.

"Go on, girl," he waves inside.

Huh, what happened to doll?

You enter as if you've discovered some ancient crypt full of treasures meant for the after world. There's a couch and a coffee table, a floor lamp behind the former. The area rug is the only piece of decor to give it any warmth. You try not to be too obvious as you take account of the barren space.

"I might got some tea," he says as he gentle touches your back and slips by. You savour the tingle along your spine.

You take off your boots before you break the threshold of the front room. You tiptoe in as you hear him in the kitchen. He sighs as cupboards open and close.

"It doesn't have to be tea," you call to him. You near the table and examine the motorcycle magazine, a sheet of paper tucked under the cover.

"Good, all I got is beer," he says. 

"Mmm," you turn as he comes close with the bottles.

"Coasters," he says.

"Oh, uh, right," you set the box next to the magazine and take two of the cork coasters from the stack. You place them down and he swiftly clanks the bottles into place.

"I know it's not much but uh, get comfortable," he says.

You pluck up a bottle and sit on the couch. You taste the malty beer. It's not bad. He paces around and nears the window. You watch his back.

You lean forward to set down the bottle and tear the seal on the box. You flip the top and pick out two cookies. You get up and approach him. You stop beside him.

"Try one," you offer.

He exhales and accepts it with a thanks. You nibble and he crunches into his. It's a bit dry by sweet.

You're nervous. You've never been this close in your life. Now you have the prime opportunity. You're in his space. You finish the cookie and smack your lips.

"Dry," you chuckle, "need to wash it down."

"Me too," he says.

He follows you as you go to grab your beer. You drink and sit. He does the same, stiffly, as he takes his beer and swigs. Your eyes stick to him. You watch his throat and the way his chest stretches the fabric of his shirt. You set the beer back on the cork and sidle closer. You're fuzzy all over.

You put your hand on his knee. He flinches and lowers the bottle. He looks at your hand and reaches to set down the beer. His other hand covers yours and he peels it off.

"Look, doll," he squeezes and clears his throat, gently laying your hand in your own lap. "There's things you don't know about me. I think you better just finish and go."

"Bucky, I... it's okay. Whatever it is."

"I'm too old for ya," he puffs. "You're young. Don't do this."

His eyes bore into yours. You pout.

"I might be young but I can make my own choices. So why don't you tell me so I can?"

His cheek twitches, "girl--"

"Please. Don't I deserve to know?"

"I don't know what you're thinking, girl. Alright? Look at us. I'm... I gotta twice your age. And you're... you're too sweet for your own good."

"Tell me," you reach for him again, petting the denim on his thigh. "I won't go until you do. Or you can drag me out."

His eyes flicker and he looks at the window behind you. His jaw squares and he shakes his head. He slaps his hand over yours again but doesn't move it away.

"I'm a criminal. I just got out and I'm tryna rebuild, but I'm not changed. Alright? You understand me," he snarls. "I'm a bad man. I hurt people. Too late for me to change that."

You search his face, "but... you haven't hurt me. And you did your time."

"Girl, don't be foolish."

"No, Bucky, you told me and I don't care. I don't care what you are. I know that you feel this too," you move closer. "Don't you?"

He turns his head and stares at the wall. You squeeze his thigh and get up on your knees. You trail your touch up to his belt and he grunts, stopping you with his thick fingers around your wrist.

"Bucky, please," you beg. "It's just us. Nothing else."

"Girl--" he pleads.

"You're not too old, you're not too bad," you slip free of his grasp and tickle up his shirt, "you're perfect for me, baby."

You bring your hand to his jaw and flutter your fingers along his beard. He shudders and you raise yourself on your knees. You lean in and press your lips to his. He grabs your upper arm but doesn't push you away. He growls as you open your mouth and slide your tongue along his lips.

His hand slides away from your arm and to your back, crawling to the back of your neck. You brace his shoulder and swing your leg across him, straddling his lap as you deepen the kiss. He groans as you hook an arm around his neck and snare him. You rock him slightly as you breathe into him, tilting your pelvis against him. 

He grips your hip with his other hand and parts from your mouth. His eyes are cloudy as he gazes up at you. The tension is his cheek pulses.

"Doll," he shakes his head, "one last chance..."

"I got condoms," you say as you sit back and reach to your cross body bag, still resting against your side.

He shivers and slackens against the couch. "You're too much."

"I know what I want," you assure him.

He stares at you and his lashes flick, He grabs the strap of your cross body bag and unhooks it from around you. He puts it on the cushion and gulps. He frames your face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheekbones. He sighs. 

You reach up to curl your fingers under the straps of your tanks top and drag them down your arms. You feel him beneath you. He's hard already. You're soaking through your panties, not that there's much to them.

You push down the sheath of your top to your waist. He inhales sharply and you reach back, your chest bulging as you tug at the band of your bra. You unhook it and quickly drop it down to your wrists. Your tits pop free and jiggle as you toss your bra.

He blinks at your chest. He just sits there, paralysed. You giggle and grab his hands, putting them on your tits, making him squeeze them. He purrs and rolls his hips.

"Doll, you're... you're..." He gropes you then slips his hands down to lift your tits. He leans forward and nuzzles your flesh, pushing your chest around his face as he snarls. You got him. There's no going back.

You arch your back and cling to his head, urging him on. He nips and teethes at you, tracing your nipple with his thumb before popping it between his lips. He hums and swirls his tongue around the hard bud. It must have been a while for him, having been in jail. That sends another thrill through you.

You twine your fingers into his hair and grazes his scalp with your nails. He snarls as he continues to bounce your tits, squeezing and pawing. You never cared much for the extra weight, but now that he's drowning in them, you can't complain.

You lip your hand down between your bodies and feel along the front of his jeans. He groans and wriggles against your touch. He's rock-hard. He hisses as he pulls away and drops back against the couch heavily.

"Doll," he tenses up.

You giggle and tug at the bottom of his shirt. You push it up his stomach and over his broad chest. You mess his hair as you swoop it past his head and drop it over the back of the couch.

Now it's your turn. You flatten your hands across his pecs and moan. He growls and you drag your nails lightly down his skin, the soft hair contrasting against hard muscle. His stomach is cushier but not in a bad way.

"Baby, you got me struggling," he groans and rubs your thighs, his pelvis tilting desperately.

"Me too," you breathe.

You linger at the top of his jeans then back off of him carefully. His eyes widen. You see fear in him. You grin and turn to wiggle your ass as him. You hook your fingers inside your leggings and bend as you push them down. Your thong rides up between your cheeks. He hums as the couch springs whine beneath him.

You shiver as your nerves flurry in your chest. This is it. So close. You're throbbing. You can see the slickness in your leggings as you step out of them.

"How... why do you want me, doll? You're... you're gorgeous," he rasps.

You stand and face him again. You shake your chest at him and he brings his fist up to bite his knuckle. You feel powerful.

You slink closer to him and touch the front of your bejeweled thong, a little heart on black. "Can I keep these on?"

"Yes," he croaks and clears his throat, "yes, doll."

You grin and grab your bag. You unzip the front pocket and slide free the strip of condoms. It unfurls and you laugh. "Oops... think we'll need them all?"

He startles you as he swipes up the end and tears one off, "we'll see."

You drop the rest beside your bag and blink at him. You sense something different. He tears open his pants and raises himself off the cushion as he shoves the denim down. His dick bobs above the elastic of his briefs, the head swollen and weeping. You get even wetter as you see the veins bulging under the skin.

He rips the wrapper with his teeth. He trembles as he presses the rubber to his tip and you near him, wavering as you weigh the moment. This is your last day a virgin. You take a silent breath and lean forward to grab his shoulders. He quakes and moans as he slides the condom down his length.

You bring yourself over his lap, hovering above him as he grips himself. He frames your hip and hisses, "doll, please, please, I need you on me. I need--"

You reach down and wrap your fingers above his. He lets go and gasps. You angle his tip along your cunt and push your panties aside. You stare down at him. Your eyes cling to his and you bite your lip.

You dip down carefully. As you open around him, you grunt. You sink your nails into his trap and your eyes speckle with tears. Oh, it hurts more than you expect.

He taps your hip, "stop," he snarls.

You bat your lashes but obey, "I can take it--"

"Come on," he feels along your side. He loops his arm around you and in an instant, he has your back to the cushion. He slips out of you. 

He fishes out your bag from beneath you and sweeps it onto the floor. He knees on the other end of the couch and urges you further up. You drag yourself until your head is against the armrest. 

He bends between your knees and kneads your thighs, his eyes on your cunt. He licks his lips before he plunges in. You yipe in surprise as he laps at you, his beard tickling your lips as he pushes your legs wider.

He flicks his tongue around and across your clit. You spasm and clasp onto his hair as the sensations stir within like flames. Your thighs clench and your spine stiffen. You pout and gulp loudly as he toys with you, suckling and swiping as you squirm.

He growls into you and traces a finger along your ass up to your entrance. He spreads the wetness there before he delves inside. He pushes his finger in bit by bit then draws it back out. He adds another and urges inside even deeper.

His tongue teases you to the edge as he pushes in and out of your cunt. He hums and drinks you up, spreading his tongue as wide as he can to taste all over you. He seals his lips once more around your clit and the pressure pinpoints, pulsing faster and faster until your muscles release.

There's a sudden surge and a hot flow coursing from you, dripping down his fingers. You convulse and whimper as you wash away with your orgasm.

He kisses your cunt before he sits up. You watch him, bleary-eyed, and he wipes the glisten from his beard with a hum. He inhales so his chest puffs out and he cracks his neck.

"If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right," he growls.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: June 2024

Welcome to the June update. A lot of behind the scenes work at the moment but we're grabbing the travel sweets, popping in the Bentley and hitting the road. More on that below.

Admin

Ongoing reminder that the project FAQ can be found here. 

I pledged using my Apple ID, or no longer use the address my pledge is attached to, or I cannot work out what email address my pledge is connected to. What should I do? Please contact us via your Kickstarter account where the pledge is connected; we will be able to see on our system which address it is. If it's one you have access to, great! The FAQ has information on how to resend your invite link to access the PledgeManager. If it's one you are not able to access, then you can let us know which email is preferred and we can update this on the system, which will automatically send a new invite.

Events

We've had a lot of queries about when the Good Omens team will be attending events more formally, after some Aziraphale and Crowley spotting at conventions we'd been to previously. Well, we're excited to confirm the first: Good Omens HQ will be at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow, Scotland this September.

We'll be bringing the actual-real-life-home-to-Crowley-and-his-plants Bentley from Season 2 of Good Omens, the first time the car has been made available publicly for fans to come see and get photos with, ahead of its journey back to the set and the start of Season 3 filming.

We also see Quelin Sepulveda, aka Muriel, has been announced for the event for some additional ineffable joy.

You can get your tickets for ACME Comic Con here. We hope to see some of you there.

While we won't be rocking up with the Bentley to this next one, we want to let you know about Ineffable Con which, though sold out in person, is also taking place virtually in July. The fan-run event hosts great panels, auctions and more, with money raised going to Alzheimer’s Research UK, in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.

Where next? We have - not an exaggeration - a list of about 200 events somewhere from when we asked fans this on Instagram and while we can't promise quite that amount of convention attendance, we're certainly looking to do some more things in future with Good Omens at large. Watch this space.  

Good Omens items...

This month has largely seen prototypes and samples for the wider Good Omens merch store arriving, and while we can't share those yet, we are certainly excited to see more fan product suggestions coming to life. That does, however, leave our public item updates a little slim on the ground.

To make up for that, here's some new panels from Colleen:

Also known as, "What could possibly go wrong?" And:

Also known as, "Well why don't you ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇!@#▇" or words to that effect, we'd imagine.  

Update from Colleen

Following such a positive response to Colleen's piece last month, bringing you behind the scenes into making the Good Omens graphic novel, we are delighted to say that she has agreed to write something for our updates going forward! For June, she's going more in depth into the process of flatting and the technicalities of colouring on screen vs print. Over to you, Colleen.

---

I mentioned the other month that I use a flatter to help me with technical work on GOOD OMENS, and here is a great example.

This is my original, hand drawn line art.

And this is the flatting file which was created using the MultiFill computer program.

It will put your eyes out.

The raw image above demonstrates how the color art lines up solidly under the line art. If it doesn't do that, you get a weird phenomenon in print called ghosting, a tiny little line of white around each segment of color. I had this issue on one major project and ended up redoing every single color file after I got a look at the first printing. Nearly two weeks of work.

The same image with the line art on top.

The layer order looks like this.

Background copy is the clean, line art layer.

I scan the art at 600 dpi, then make the blacks pure black, the whites pure white. Then I convert back to greyscale, then RGB, then duplicate the layer. Then I delete the white on the upper layer so the line art layer is transparent but the blacks on that layer are not.

If you have blacks on a layer that has been multiplied, you can see slight color through those blacks. You want pure black.

The lower layer is where I use the MultiFill program to create the digital flats. First you use MultiFill to drop in the random colors, then the companion plug-in Flatter Pro to make those colors seal under the black lines.

This probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about, but if the flat colors don’t line up perfectly under the black line art, you get the dreaded ghosting I mentioned. You can see it below in this image. It’s a tiny little white line that will appear around the black lines and color areas.

This drives me nuts and is an absolute nightmare to fix.

It’s a very common problem, especially for people who work for web and don’t anticipate the problems going from web to print.

What looks great on your computer can cause big problems in print.

From here, my flatter Jul Mae Kristoffer, who is way over in the Philippines, does flatting that is more in keeping with the areas of color I want to isolate. As you see on Layer 1.

But again, this is still pretty ugly, and not what I would use for final color. Flatting is a technical issue, not a creative one, though in some cases a flatter will make choices you may use. Most of the time they don't.

Here is my final color page.

Sometimes my MultiFill flats are so wonky I have a hard time getting my brain to snap out of what I see before me. If I get stuck, it's a good idea to just pick at it and come back to it later.

If it really, really bothers me, I’ll take the MultiFill flatter layer and desaturate the color so it doesn’t poke my eyes out.

Here’s an example. The digital flat file.

The desaturated flat file that doesn’t make me want to poke my eyes out.

And the final color.

Sometimes I just put in a solid white layer so I don’t see the flats at all. Flatting is there to allow you to easily pick spots to color in, and doesn’t usually appear in the final work.

Sometimes I want to create my colors using transparent color over a white ground, which is more delicate in the final.

Here’s an example from Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I also selected all black line art here and converted it to sepia to give it a vintage look. Except for the fairies. They’re green.

A colorist must also consider color settings.

Different clients can have different requirements. I find these color settings, which I got from the Hi-Fi Studio, to be pretty solid. I use them as my default for all my projects unless otherwise requested. If your publisher has other settings, they’ll usually send you a csf file which you can upload to Photoshop. The program will save your files and you can just switch between them as you need them.

This tells the printer things about the paper and the spread of the ink you will use. That’s what dot gain means - it makes printed color look darker than intended, so you set up your files to account for it.

When you hover your pointer over each box, it will tell you what each setting is supposed to accomplish.

Another really important thing to consider when coloring comics is color range.

I’m coloring this book in RGB range, but for print you use CMYK.

I’m about to confuse the heck out of some people with this post, I’m afraid. But here we go.

Here is this shot in RGB color setting.

And here is the same page calibrated for print in CMYK.

The biggest shift is in the reds. Print cannot match those reds.

You may not see much difference here, but it’s the sort of thing that drives artists crazy.

A computer should be perfect for conveying exactly what you want, right? It's all just 0's and 1's, binary information, and that information should be the same from one computer to the next?

Nope. Not even close.

First off, computer monitors must be calibrated. You can use a computer program or a tool that measures the color on your computer screen and then adjusts the color to an industry standard.

Have you ever been in an electronics shop where a bunch of TV shows were on display, all of them playing the same show, and have you noticed how different the color was from one TV to the next?

It's like that.

I freely admit I don't pay a whole lot of attention to calibration, but if I were a professional photographer I would. I'd have a little spectrometer attached to my screen and software would adjust my monitor to the best possible standard range. As it is, I just use the default setting on my computer and hope for the best.

If your monitor is properly calibrated and your art is shown on another monitor that is properly calibrated, the art will look almost identical from one monitor to the next.

YAY!

But from one monitor to the next, that's about where the resemblance ends.

Colors are calibrated to something called RGB, or Red, Green, Blue.

All colors come from a mix of red green and blue. At their greatest intensity, all the colors in the spectrum together become pure white light.

This is why RGB is called ADDITIVE color, because you ADD colors from the spectrum to get ALL colors, and all colors create the entirety of the rainbow, and pure white light.

Your computer monitor, your phone, your television, all images are created via light using RGB, a gamut that covers all possible colors that can be created.

That's a lot.

And that's why some of the colors you see on your TV or phone are so deep and intense.

For the widest possible range of color and intensity, you use RGB.

Unfortunately, there is what you can create with light, and then there is what you can create with pigment or ink. And that is why printing what you see on your computer almost never looks exactly like what you see in a book.

For printing, you must use a color setting known as CMYK. This stands for Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Key/Black.

In printing, the pure blue is actually Cyan and the pure red is actually Magenta.

CMYK color range is not created by addition, but by SUBTRACTION. In order to get the color you want, you reduce the percentage of one of the four colors for ink mixing. Mixing all colors, instead of giving you white, gives you black.

The gamut of CMYK is limited to what can be created with ink.

You've probably heard the term four color press? This is what that means. Four colors, with each color of ink run over the paper on rollers which, combined in varying layers of opacity, create all the printing colors you see.

But remember, what you see on your computer monitor and what CMYK gamut can handle are two different things.

Now, I’ve been really careful with the color settings on Good Omens, so there haven’t been any big surprises, but let me show you a snippet of a project I did for the French fashion house Balmain.

The RGB version:

And then this shot after it was converted to a CMYK file for print.

That's a pretty big difference.

Now, you see this shift mostly with vibrant colors, such as that pink there. But other colors hardly changed at all, right?

That's because this issue is about range of color. CMYK and RGB occupy a shared range which you can see demonstrated by this graphic I got from Wikipedia.

The graphic shows the RGB ranges supported by various digital formats. SWOP CMYK is the most common range my publishers use. Note that the bounding box line shared by the RGB and SWOP CMYK formats shares about half the range space. So whatever RGB colors you use that are outside that range will be digitally converted to the smaller SWOP CMYK range.

And you may not like what you end up with.

As you can see, some of the most ethereal and intense colors get lost outside of the SWOP CMYK boundary.

A look at the Dark Horse Comics color settings in Photoshop. Theoretically, this information should prevent your art from looking like mud on publication.

Now, after I just told you the dangers of coloring in RGB then converting to CMYK for print, I tell you I am coloring Good Omens in RGB anyway. There’s a couple of reasons for this.

Remember, RGB give you a greater range of color, so it can be to your advantage to preserve your original files using a format that gives you the greatest range.

Again, here is the unaltered file.

You can see what the CMYK result will be simply by clicking the Proof Colors button here. This will show you how the art will convert.

And the Gamut Warning will show you which colors are out of gamut range for print.

The intensity of that magenta and that purple in the top right are not going to print true.

This is how it will look in final.

So even if you do what you think is perfect color on screen, there is no way it can perfectly convert to print. Almost everything will involve a little bit of compromise.

Even though you have to consider the color shift issues, preserving your files in RGB gives you greater wiggle room, especially if you get lucky someday and get to work with a printer who can print in 6 colors. Or maybe some technology you don’t know about will pop up and make printing super glorious. Who knows.

Regardless, you should keep an eye on that gamut and color for CMYK print, while preserving your master files in RGB.

Until next time.

[mushr90]

mush's ultimate fic rec guide!

𓍊𓋼 a masterlist of all my favourite works made by various creators here on tumblr. most of these are series', but i've categorised them by 'series' and 'oneshots' just incase. i've made sure to tag them, link the posts, and add a brief summary for each, so y'all can digest and enjoy too! i'll also be updating this regularly (*ᵕᴗᵕ)⁾⁾

𓍊𓋼 please read through all of the tags listed for each fic carefully as i am not going to be listing them here! you control the media you consume.

𓍊𓋼 updated: 26/04/25 🔔

𓍊𓋼 key: ✩ = ongoing / ✮ = completed

Red Dead Redemption II

⟢ coming soon!!

⟢

Baldur's Gate 3

⟢ coming soon!!

⟢

The Last of Us

series

⟢ 'daddy next door' by @cavillscurls (dom! joel miller x sub! fem! reader) ✩

summary: "its summer in texas, and when the dashing joel miller moves in next door, your less than favorable life gets completely turned around."

⟢ 'of rage and ruin' by @corazondebeskar-reads (werewolf! joel miller x omega! fem! reader) ✩

summary: "joel miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. he turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though."

⟢ 'Waiting Game' by @gutsby (dbf! joel miller x fem! reader) ✩

summary: "joel miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. a cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you."

Resident Evil

⟢ coming soon!!

⟢

Call of Duty

series

⟢ 'Cherry Red, Crimson Blood' by @soaps-mohawk (tf141 x omega! fem! reader) ✩

summary: "task force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what price has been saying since its formation. two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it. it works for a while, until the omega initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so price thinks."

⟢ '𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚐 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢' by @void-my-warranty (simon riley x fem! reader x johnny mactavish) ✩

summary: you and simon have been together for years, but, unable to give you what you truly want in the bedroom, what you need, he decides to bring in the only other man he trusts to do the job -- johhny. as feelings grow and troubles arise, will this arrangement come to a crumbling head, or will there be an alternative solution?

⟢ 'AS NEEDED' by @novemberheart (tf141 x omega! fem! reader) ✩

summary: after having previously been rejected by task force 141, their decision to finally accept an omega into their pack comes with many troubles and uncertainty, and your new place here might not be as permanent as you think.

⟢ 'Jaws' by @alkalineapparition (simon riley x hybrid! fem! reader) (this one is on ao3) ✩

summary: "alone and half feral in a dirty cell, ghost finds you during a raid beneath a military research lab. it quickly becomes clear that something isn't right with you, your behaviour more beast than human. a result of horrific human experiments, you're a failed attempt at making genetically modified soldiers with killer instincts and keen senses. instead they produced you - a mutt. ghost is assigned to be your handler, to help you heal and shape you in to the 141's very own attack dog. but the bond between a handler and their beast eventually turns into something more..."

⟢ 'In Limbo' by @ilium-ilia (mafia! simon riley x fem! reader) ✩

summary: "joining the mafia is no different than selling a soul to the devil, and it's something simon riley is all too willing to do if it means keeping his family safe. it isn't until he meets you–the girl who runs from everything–that he realises there are much worse things to be caught up in."

⟢ 'Daughters with Soft Underbellies' by @ilium-ilia (outlaw! john price x fem! reader) ✩

summary: "all your life you have known nothing but the word of god and your father's short temper. every day, you are forced to turn the other cheek for minor mistakes you make within your father's gaze. yet, as a devout follower to god and your father, you have no one else to turn to. when the owner of the saloon tells you about some strangers lurking around town, you decide to take your chances with these wayward men in the hopes that they'll save you. but they are dangerous, conniving bandits; a fact you learn a little too late. you should have known that sheep who stray too far from the flock are at the mercy of the wolves. better sharpen those teeth of yours, little lamb."

⟢ 'anatomy of us' by @bi-writes (alpha! simon riley x omega! fem! reader) ✩

summary: "in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you."

⟢ 'Breaking Bread' by @softaestluv (simon riley x fem! reader) ✮

summary: "simon riley who is quite the anomaly of a man, or human, rather. your lieutenant who has only spoken a handful of words to you. simon riley who happens to be sat at the only open table in the mess hall."

⟢ 'Grease & Grime Won’t Break Your Bones' by @softaestluv (mechanic! simon riley x fem! reader) ✮

summary: "you never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is."

⟢ (1) 'RETURN TO SENDER' (original) / (2) 'IN CONTEMPT' (sequel) by @sai-int (criminal! simon riley x fem! reader) ✮

summary: (1) "it was a joke. A letter to a criminal—uk's most wanted. you told him he was hot. told him you were a virgin. left your address, because it’s not like he’d ever get out, right?" | (2) "you tried to move on, but no one quite measures up; not to the way he touched you, not to the way he ruined you. but when he reappears, you can feel him even before you see him. the past has a way of punishing disobedience, and now, it’s here to settle the score."

⟢ 'RASPBERRY GIRL' by @peachesofteal (dom! simon riley x sub! fem! reader) ✩

summary: captain! simon riley takes an interest in the sweet and docile little bakery-worker and vows to make her wholly his.

⟢ '𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤' by @cinnamonghostcrunch (simon riley x fem! reader) ✩

summary: "where in you move to manchester to start fresh, only to cross paths with a mysterious local who changes everything. what started as an unexpected encounter soon evolves into something much more, growing increasingly complicated as his secrets and your doubts cast shadows over everything."

⟢ 'INK & NEEDLE' by @gloomwitchwrites (tattoo artist! simon riley x fem! reader) ✮

summary: "a night out in london to celebrate your friend’s upcoming marriage ends with a quick hook-up in a club’s green room. you don’t expect to see your masked man ever again, and you leave it as a one-time thing. three years later, you’re back in england, and find yourself facing the man you walked away from at that club. he's running a tattoo parlor just down the street from where you’re staying. over time, your paths cross and cross again until the two of you are tangled up in a messy web. will it last? or will one of you walk away?"

⟢ 'Martyr in the Making' by @eilidh-eternal (tattoo artist! simon riley x fem! reader) ✩

summary: he's an observer. notices the way you use getting tattoos as a thinly-veiled coping mechanism. he has a better way for you to cope though, things he can teach you that don’t involve needles, but would still leave his mark on your skin.

*major credit to all the creators mentioned, and to the ones i'm yet to discover! you guys are so talented and i love you ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و♡

[strawberryicedcookies]

HOW I MANIFESTED HANGING OUT WITH MY SP IN UNDER 3 DAYS.

this post is about my last sp update!! im going in depth on how i did it because yesterday i was so excited and typing on alot of adrenaline, so i didnt even go into enough detail on how i did it 😂😂.

When i first started affirming for him, i didnt believe my affirmations, but thats why i was affirming. I never want you guys to think you need to believe your affirmations right away. I was constantly affirming that he needed me, he loves me, we always hang out (hanging out with him was the main goal.)

When i first started manifesting him, we werent even close friends at all, but one thing about manifestation, everything will pull you to your desire. EVERYTHING that happens will bring you closer to your desire.

I would affirm ATLEAST 10k times a day (using the counter app), i did guided meditations EVERY NIGHT for those 3 days, i did SATS, subliminals, affirmation tapes, self concept work. Baby i was SATURATING MY MIND (doing my 3 day challenge).

After the first day, i genuinely believed that he was mine, i believed that i was dating him, it felt so natural. Then he texted me out of the complete blue, we started texting ALL DAY and the next day we talked at school all day, he texted me when we got home, we were just talking all the time. I wasn’t done though, i was manifesting that we would hang out and i wasn’t stopping until we did 🤷🏿‍♀️ i wasn’t about to take a half-assed manifestation, i wanted to hangout with him, so i was going to (this was day 2 btw).

I never stopped affirming bro, i persisted persisted persisted. The next day randomly my sister said her friend was going to pick us up and we were going to window shop at target. I was still manifesting in my head at this point, i knew that my SP was going to hangout with me, i just didn’t know how. Then my sister suggested that we eat at mcdonalds before we go to target, so we go to McDonalds. When i got there, some of my friends (they were also mutual friends with my SP) were already eating there so i decided to talk with them. (my SP was still not there, and tbh, i didnt know if he was coming at all. but i wasnt even worried about that, I knew we were going to hangout today regardless). Next thing i know, after about 30 minutes of talking with my friends, i see SP walking up to the mcdonalds after his basketball practice!!! We start talking and we end up staying there for like another hour or so. Then, when the whole group finished eating (it was like 6 of us at this point). he got into my friends tiny ass car with me and my friends and some of his friends 😂 (for reference it was 6 of us in a 4 seater) so me and my SP were SO CLOSE. We had the most fun hangout!! (we never ended up going to target, thats the most ironic part 😂 if we had went to target right away, i would’ve never seen my SP. Thats why i say that everything is pushing you closer to your manifestation.) 3 DAYS IS ALL IT TOOK , because i ASSUMED thats all it would take. I wasnt overthinking, i wasnt worried about when it would happen, i knew that all i needed was 3 days, and i left it at that. STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE HOW!!! Everything is working to bring your manifestation to you, rest assured!!

if you assume that you can manifest them instantly, then you can. Its whatever you assume that manifests. In my success story post, i showed yall a little bit of my affirmation list, and yall SAW that he did EXACTLY WHAT I AFFIRMED. Manifestation is PERFECT, whatever you affirm WILL HAPPEN, not slightly, FULLY!!

so to wrap it up, how is manifested hanging out with him and having the fun of my life.

-long ass affirmation list that i repeated

- SATs and guided meditations

- robotic affirming (with and without the counter app

- constantly listening to affirmation tapes/subliminals

-living in the wish full filled (i believed he was mine and that we always hang out)

- detaching and not focusing on how it would happen

- did not overconsume manifesting tips, i knew how you manifest, so i put it to practice

- saturated the FUCK out of my subconscious

- hella self concept work.

REMEMBER!! methods dont manifest, YOU DO!!

[perfectlyoongi]

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who has been tying your shoelaces since you were little. Yoongi still had that image in his mind of you crying in the rain because you tripped over your shoes and got all wet. since that day, Yoongi has always made a point of tying your shoes before leaving the house. and now, even though you were adults with separate lives, Yoongi couldn’t control his habit whenever you slept at each other’s houses. “wait, you still need to tie the laces. you can fall, you know that. nevermind, i don’t mind bending down. it’s not like this is my first time.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who still intimidates any suitor of yours. when you were just 5 years old, Yoongi remembered how that boy who bothered you so much started running away when he saw Yoongi picking you up from school. since then, Yoongi has made it his personal mission to fend off any and all suitors you might have. he was your older brother. somehow, he always looked out for you. and Yoongi guaranteed that he would continue to take care of you, no matter how old you were, no matter how many suitors you had. if they really wanted you, they could put up with an intimidating Yoongi for a few minutes. “oh? are you really sure you want to bring your new friend to lunch? well, if it’s just a friend, i’m okay with it. but if it’s something else…”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who still cooks lunch for you whenever you need. if you asked Yoongi, he would say he only learned how to cook so he could make your favorite dishes. during school, Yoongi always woke up early to cook for you, making a point of giving you something tasty and attractive — it was already his habit. so when you spent the night at his house or when you couldn’t waste time making lunch, Yoongi would show up at your work or doorstep with a small lunch box filled with your favorite lunch. after so many years, he still knew you. “your message was full of typos. i knew right away that you were late, that’s why i cooked this to you. it’s your favorite, i hope you like it. oh, and i also brought you a piece of fruit. enjoy, minion.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who picks you up from work or school when it’s raining. every month, Yoongi had your schedule updated and posted on the wall of his studio, and when you were still busy and the rain became more and more intense, Yoongi would put everything on hold to pick you up. whether you worked next to him or studied on the other end of town, Yoongi always found the quickest route to you, to make sure you didn’t get caught in the rain or risk getting sick. “remind me how many umbrellas i’ve given you, and how many you’ve used. just to refresh my memory. it’s just that it’s becoming really old that i have to come and get you every time it rains.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who offers you something whenever he is with you. Yoongi was never good with words. and Yoongi was shy in his actions. but what Yoongi always did to show you that he liked you was something as simple as giving you a gift. a new book, your favorite ice cream, even a four-leaf clover he saw on the way home — no matter what. ever since you were little, Yoongi got used to giving you little souvenirs to calm your heart and this act seemed to never die, no matter how much time passed. he just wanted you to know how much he truly loved you. “there’s an origami stall back there. a lady is teaching children how to make various animals and her husband was selling some and i thought you would like this crane.”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who is always willing to give you advice, or receive it. it was three in the morning and you had come home after a date and didn’t know if they were right for you? Yoongi was already accepting your call without realizing it. you just received two equally good job offers and don’t know which one to choose? Yoongi was already ready with a list of pros and cons. was Yoongi unsure of his new project? you were already inside his studio listening to his music. Yoongi didn’t know if he could hold on a little longer? you were already by his side reassuring him that he was loved. you or him, it didn’t matter. both of you gave and received in that mutual relationship of complicity. only Yoongi knew what was best for you. only you knew what was best for Yoongi. and that was enough. “i’m going for an interview now but as soon as i leave i’ll call you. it’s not supposed to take long, so you can think about what you really want to say and i’ll help you later. if you want, i can even write the message for you. i have to go. don’t make any stupid decisions before i get back!”

OLDER-BROTHER!YOONGI who looks at you with eyes full of pride just because you are you. watching you from afar only squeezed Yoongi’s heart. yesterday you were still a small child and today you were already signing the contract for your first job. time flew between your childhood and your adulthood, and all this time, Yoongi was watching you. you were such a pure, innocent child and managed to transform into this responsible, mature adult — only Yoongi knew how many heartaches it took to make you so grown up. “it seems like yesterday that i gave you a piggyback because you had hurt your knee on the slide. and now i’m inside your first apartment that you bought with your first job. you’re growing up too fast and i don’t like it. stop. stop right now.”

[harrywavycurly]

Christmas fluff with the Lonely couple? I miss them🥹

Hiii babes!! I’m sorry I haven’t given a Lonely update in a bit! I miss them too!! So I hope you enjoy this little fluffy holiday blurb for them!💖

-find all things Lonely here✨

CW: None

Tag List: @blckburd @fangirl509east @ell0ra-br3kk3r @youngpastafanmug @mattieshattuck1 @outofthisworl-d

Summary: You and Harry come home after a holiday party and he’s upset about the outcome of a certain competition✨

You have to fight off the laugh that’s trying to bubble its way out of your mouth as you see Harry standing in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes set in a hard glare and one hand on his hip while the other is resting on the kitchen island. You notice his suit jacket is draped over the back of one of the barstools as you take a step into the kitchen, you place your handbag on the same stool his jacket is on and walk around the island so you can look at him from the other side. Harry bends down and leans in closer to the object in front of him as if he’s searching for a flaw and you decide to copy his actions, leaning in and giving it a good once over.

“What exactly are we looking for?” You whisper, not wanting to break his concentration. Harry’s gaze softens as his eyes find yours from across the island, you give him a smile as you stand up.

“Do you see anything wrong with it?” He questions as he looks away from you and goes back to looking over the object in front of him.

“No? It looks nice.” You answer honestly making him let out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair while he stands up straight.

“Then how the hell did Jim’s gingerbread house beat mine? His was basic and didn’t even have a theme.” You shrug as you walk around the island so you’re standing next to him.

“Was his the one with the skittles as roof tiles? That was cute.” Harry turns to look at you with a look of absolute betrayal on his face as he takes a step away from you with his hand that was on the counter coming up to clutch at his chest.

“Cute? You thought his tacky skittle roof was cute? How can you be my fiancé but fancy another man’s gingerbread house?” His words come out with a more playful tone that you know he intended but you ignore it and turn to look at the gingerbread house he spent probably a good two hours on earlier in the afternoon, wanting to win the contest at the neighborhood’s little holiday party the two of you just got back from.

���I mean Harry your icing job does look a bit rushed on the icicles coming off the roof.” You feel Harry take a step towards you as you lean in and point to the candy cane he used as a support for the roof. “And why is there only one of these? It looks like an after thought.” You add with a playful smirk because you know Harry ran out of candy canes half way through since his roof is covered with icing and crushed up candy cane pieces.

“You voted against me didn’t you? You wanted Jim to win?” He accuses as he stands behind you and looks at the red and white themed gingerbread house from over your shoulder, you roll your eyes as Harry places his hands your hips giving them a little pinch.

“Now why would I do that?” You question while you stand up and turn around so you can place your hands on his shoulders. Harry looks down at you and can see the smile that wants to take over letting him know you did in fact vote for someone else’s gingerbread house over his.

“I thought you loved me?”

“I thought I did too but then I saw Jim’s skittle roof and it was just so colorful and-”

“Colorful? Really? Baby you helped me pick my whole candy cane theme.” He says cutting you off with a playful glare and you just bring your hands up from the tops of his shoulders to the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks.

“I love you.” Your voice is sweet and soft making Harry want to melt against your touch. You smile as he lets out a clear sigh of defeat while his hands slides from your hips to your lower back so he can gently pull you closer.

“You’re mean.” He pouts making you giggle as you reach up on your tiptoes and place a quick kiss to his lips. “But I love you too.” He says with a smile when you pull away.

“Now admit it Jim’s skittle roof was impressive.” Harry laughs as your hands fall to his chest where the first few buttons of his dress shirt are undone allowing your fingers to trace the edges of the swallows on his chest.

“I don’t know if it was impressive but it was cute.” He admits before he leans down so he can place a kiss to the top of your head. “But not nearly as cute as you.” You smile at the line that although it may be super cheesy, still makes your cheeks turn pink because even after all these months together as a couple you still find yourself in shock sometimes that Harry even says things like this to you even as you catch a glimpse of the engagement ring on your finger, a clear sign that he not only thinks you’re cute but wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“God I’m going to have to deal with lines like that for the rest of my life aren’t I?” You tease as you look up at him and you smile when you see he’s already looking down at you.

“Oh yeah and don’t worry they’re only going to get better when we’re actually married.” He reassures you as he pulls you even closer while he leans down and places a kiss to your lips and in that moment Harry finds himself forgetting all about the gingerbread competition he didn’t win because all he can think about is how this time next year you’ll be his wife and not just his fiancé.

[moonlitcelestial]

Chapter 4

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x Poly OT8 Ateez

W/C 3,252

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾ 

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 3)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer. I will be attempting to keep it as gender neutral as possible but it will have she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and Pinterest board (which will be updating as the story goes on).

Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, possible angst, fluff, and obliviousness. This list will be updated as the story goes on. 

Thanks for reading <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The next morning you woke up 20 minutes before your alarm. After yesterday you crashed out as soon as your head hit the pillow but your sleep was restless. The giants crowded you on the bed, which made you happy you had a king sized bed. They took up more space than you do. 

“Come on child, I love you too, but I need to get up.” You muttered sleepily to Toothless who has learned that your alarm means you have to get up. When he hears it he always has to crawl up to you and get as close as possible to your face and purr. You have gotten to where you set it for about five minutes earlier than you need to get up to let him get in some cuddle time, as if he didn’t get enough. Sometimes he misses the mark by about thirty minutes but it is the thought that counts. You lightly shoved him off of you as you swung your legs off of the bed you grabbed your glasses before standing up and stretching. Today was going to be gorgeous and you knew that I would be a great riding day. The team also has to bring supplies over too so riding your motorcycle would be good for reserving a spot. You meandered into the walk-in closet. Looking around you decided what you wanted to wear and grabbed your high waisted buckle embellished pants, and one of the nice low cut, but not too low cut, blouses and your favorite leather jacket. 

After getting your shit together you messaged the team that you would meet them at the studio. You put on your shitkickers and grabbed your helmet, yelling at the giants that you would be home later and that you love them. You walked around your Cadillac to your all black Yamaha R6 motorcycle, that you affectionately called Ink. You threw your leg over it, took off your glasses to put on the helmet, put on your helmet, opened the visor to put them back on, and slapped down the visor. You started it up and made sure your Bluetooth was connected to your helmet so you could have some music on the ride. 

You pulled into the small lot next to your building and parked next to Aurora's car. You got off and headed to the door making your way into your studio flipping your visor up in the process. Forrest opened the door with his back carrying out some of the things you would need for the day. You held it open and said, “hi,” startling him. He almost dropped the box that he was carrying, which would have been a very expensive accident. He whipped around and let out a breath when he realized it was just you. 

“Holy shit man you scared me!” He looked you up and down and smiled. 

“You're slaying today, totally badass.” You walked with him to the back of Willow's car. You guys always loaded things in her vehicle because she had the most room. You opened the trunk for him and smiled as he threw his arm around you in a half hug. 

“My camera and things are ready to go upstairs, so whenever you guys have what you need we can head out. I brought Ink today so we could minimize the space we take up and maximize space for storage by only having three of us in the car.” 

“Smart cookie, we only have our personal cameras and laptops to go, all of the big things are in the car already.” He responded.

“Great. I will go grab my bag and we can head out then!” You skipped to the front door and ran through the studio to grab what you needed. Thankfully you thought ahead and packed your bag yesterday. Once you grabbed the bag you walked back downstairs to meet the team. 

“Everything is packed and ready to go," Aurora said excitedly, throwing her arms around your shoulder from behind. “We finally get to see KQ in person and not on a screen! I am so excited, I cannot wait to see what our setup could look like and I cannot wait to see the boys in their natural habitat.” She rambled. You squeezed the hand that was thrown over your shoulder. She always rambled when she was nervous and anxious. You noticed that she also tended to crave skinship then too. She smiled at you and let go of you so she could head to the backseat of Willow’s SUV. Forrest was already parked in the passenger seat. 

Willow walked out last. “Good morning sunshine,” you said to her. She was always grumpy in the morning even when it was a later morning like today. She looked at you and raised her travel coffee cup in greeting. You giggled and walked off to your bike, you started down the road after getting your glasses situated, flipping your visor down, and giving Willow a thumbs up. 

After a few minutes you reached the parking garage for KQ. It was a decent size. You pulled up to a spot that was fairly close to one of the doors. You had made it a little bit ahead of Willow. You sat in the middle of the spot so you could reserve it for your team. You flipped up the visor, and took off your glasses. Once you finished your little glasses routine you shook out your braided hair making sure it wasn't tucked into anything. 

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Is that Y/n? I've never seen that bike in the lot before.” 

“I don't know man, let's just wait and see”

The person sitting on the bike looked really badass. Whoever it was took off their helmet and low and behold it was Y/n. Wow, she looks so good on a bike. That is something that I never thought I would think is hot. Her glasses are framing her beautiful e/c eyes. Her tattoos peeked out by her collarbone which is something that we will have to ask her about later. When she put the helmet under her arm she looked so sexy.

“We should go see her”

“Okay, let's go.”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Y/n?” You heard a voice yell. You looked around and saw Yunho and Mingi smiling as they approached you. Your heart stopped as they approached, they were wearing simple clothes and they looked absolutely magnificent. Their bare faces were glowing and you could feel the happy energy radiating from them. They both had just gotten out of a vehicle that was already driving off. You smiled back at them, giving them a wave. 

“Good morning!” You chirped, you threw your leg off the bike and sat your helmet down on the seat. Yunho pulled you into a hug and Mingi followed suit. 

“We are so excited for you to see where we make our magic happen.” Yunho said with a wink at you. You laughed and adjusted the straps of your backpack on your shoulders. 

“I love your outfit,” Mingi said motioning to his waist at the approximate placement of the buckles on you.

“Thank you! It's been a while since I have worn them. I generally will wear them when I ride this beauty.” You replied, patting the motorcycle. You saw Willow’s silver SUV pull into the garage around the broad shoulders of the twin towers. “There is the team, I've gotta move the bike so Willow can park here, could one of you hold this while I move?” you asked quickly, holding your helmet out so you wouldn't knock it off the seat. Mingi stepped forward and gently took the helmet from you and put it under his arm. That is most definitely a sight that would be a great photograph. You threw your leg over the bike and started scooting it back toward the wall just like you normally do when reserving her spot. The twin towers stepped away to allow Willow to pull into the space. Once everyone was situated in the parking spot you walked back toward the trunk meeting Mingi and Yunho who had started a conversation with Forrest. You smiled at the interaction, those three would bring the most chaos if they were together for too long. 

“Here I can take that back from you Mings,” you said motioning to the helmet he still had under his arm. 

“Oh, I forgot I even had it, here you go,” he replied with a bright gummy smile. You would absolutely love to see him with a pretty pink helmet with a tiara affixed to it. Of course he would have to even consider riding a motorcycle before that would ever happen. You grabbed one of the smaller boxes and turned to look at everyone. Yunho had grabbed the last box out of the trunk and started showing everyone where they needed to go. Mingi follows just behind him, still chattering with Forrest. The door was toward the back of the lobby so you bypassed security and thank goodness you didn't have to interact with people. You hated people. Yunho was in the lead and he pushed the button to go up. You were in awe of how he balanced the box without even teetering, like you generally did, when he pushed the button. After the short elevator ride he brought you to an office, where Hongjoong was already waiting. You looked around the space, there were two sets of desks facing each other and a large amount of shelving behind the desks. While it wasn't your usual setup you could definitely make it work. You smiled and nodded to Hongjoong before setting your helmet, box, and backpack down on the desk the farthest to your right. He raised an eyebrow at the helmet you placed down. 

“What? Never seen a motorcycle helmet before Joong?” You teased with a giggle. His eyes widened. 

“No no,” he said, waving his hands in front of him, “I have, I just didn't expect it from you,” he said, “wait, that didn't come out right,” he was getting more frantic with his movements. It looked like he was trying to swipe the words out of the air. “I'll just be quiet now,” he finished rambling, put his arms down and faced the floor so you couldn't see the blush spreading over the rest of his face. He looked like a child that just got in trouble. Mingi laughed at his reaction and walked over to Hongjoong slapping his shoulder. 

“Hyung, it hasn’t even been two minutes of them being here and you are already embarrassing yourself.” Hongjoong looked over at him with a glare and Mingi walked away before he could smack him. You snickered at their antics. 

Yunho threw an arm over your shoulder and steered you toward the door. “I am your official tour guide for today seeing as my parts for the songs are finished. We need to go get your official ID badges and then I will show you around the building. Then we can break for lunch and come back for dance practice, sound good?” 

You nodded and turned toward your team who were chattering amongst themselves. “Sound good for you guys as well?” You repeated to the chatterboxes. They all looked at you with wide eyes like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. They are just like children. 

“What did you say? We didn’t catch it.” Willow said sheepishly.

“He said that he is our tour guide and that we need to go get our official ID badges and then he will show us around the building. Then we can break for lunch and come back for dance practice.”

“Oh yeah, sounds great,” Aurora quickly said. You squinted at her over your shoulder. They were definitely up to something. Most likely plotting something surrounding you, and there is no telling what it could be. 

“Lead the way then Yuyu” you joked. He looked at you with surprise. He was the only one that had any reaction to you calling him by a nickname. You looked up at him, he was just about a head taller than you, and you could see the blush creeping up his neck. He started down the hall and was steering you around with his arm over your shoulder. All of the halls you turned down confused you thankfully you had a tall knight in shining armor leading the way. 

“Okay, through that door is the office that does the cards, I will wait out here for everyone.” Yunho said, taking his arm off of your shoulder. You missed the comforting weight already. You smiled up at him and looked back to your team who were snickering to themselves. What is up with them today? 

You pushed the door open to the office and held it open for the rest of your team. They nodded at you and walked passed. Aurora took the lead and explained who you were and why you were here. They all knew that you did not like speaking to new people unless absolutely necessary. They motioned for you to follow them back and they set you in front of a camera much like they would if you were taking a drivers license photo. After each of you went through the process they handed you the badges. You bowed to them and thanked them for their time. 

Once you had the badge strapped to your collar you stepped out to the hallway where Yunho was waiting Yeosang was standing with him. Both of them looked at you as you stepped out of the office. Yeosang looked at you with wide eyes and a small blush creeping up on his cheeks. What is with everyone today, no one seems to be able to handle your presence. 

You turned to look at Aurora ducking your head toward her and quietly asked “Is there something going on that I do not know about? Everyone is acting weird around me?” 

“You can be very intimidating, I think they are just getting used to you being around here.” She said with a wink and shoved you toward the boys. Being the only single one on your team was an absolute nightmare; all three of them had significant others so they all always teamed up on you. Willow had her husband Rowan, Forrest had his husband Asher, and Aurora had her wife Meadow, and you had no one. Why is it that after all of these years of not having anyone remotely interested in you everyone is now a blushing mess around you. 

“Good morning Y/n-nie,” Yeosang said as you stumbled closer. His blush was replaced with a wide smile. The birthmark near his left eye was on display because he was barefaced. His smile was stunning, he was stunning. This is exactly why he is your bias wrecker. You could feel your face heating up the longer you lingered in your thoughts. 

“Good morning Yeo,” you responded, bowing your head slightly. 

“Do you mind if I join your tour? I just finished up my portion of recording and do not have anything to do until dance practice this afternoon.” He asked and looked between you, your team, and Yunho. He had a hopeful look on his face which was very maltese of him. You nodded and looked at Yunho seeing if he was okay with it as he is the one with a plan and you were only there to tag along. 

“Yeah, we don't mind one bit, the more the merrier!” Yunho said with a look toward you. He threw his arm around your shoulder and he tugged Yeosang under his other arm. Yeosang made a noise of protest and wormed his way out from under Yunho's arm and made his way to the other side of you. 

After the tour of the rest of the building and Yunhoand Yeosang explaining what some of the rooms were for and how they remembered where everything was. The final room that they wanted to show your team was the big recording studio. As your group got closer to the studio the more nervous you got. The first time was nerve wracking enough, even with the giants there you were still in over your head. Of course with some of their reactions to you today maybe they should be nervous of you. Yeosang held open the door for you and you bowed slightly to him. All eyes were on you as you entered the larger recording studio. You heard your team shuffle in behind you. 

“Y/n-nie! How are you? I heard you rode a motorcycle here, that's so cool! Could I see it later?” Wooyoung ecstatically questioned. He scrambled toward you and threw himself at you to give you a hug. You knew that he had always been affectionate toward the other members, and you couldn't say it surprised you that he was affectionate toward you. You hardly expected the rest of the members to be this affectionate with you. 

“I'm doing well, I don't mind showing the bike to you. One of these days I could drive you around on it if you like, so long as the extra helmet I have fits you.” You replied to his rapid fire questions. 

“Yahhh that would be so much fun!” He said pulling away from you and placing his hands on your shoulders. Wooyoung steered you toward the couch that San and Seonghwa were sitting on. They both scooted over to put you in the middle while your team found seats scattered across the room. You sat down and Wooyoung planted himself in front of you between your knees. 

“Mingi is almost finished with his recording and then we need to get Jongho and myself done and then we can break for lunch,” Hongjoong said, glancing around the room to everyone. He smiled at you and your team and turned back to Mingi speaking into the mic to give him feedback. 

“So, what do you think of it here? Is it to your expectations as an Atiny?” Seonghwa asked. You turned to look at him and smiled.

“It is a lot bigger than I expected, I will get lost here until I get the hang of the layout, but that is normal for me.”

“In all honesty, it is sometimes difficult for me to find things still, and I have been here a lot longer than you. You will get the hang of it.” He said putting his arm around the back of the couch and resting his hand on your shoulder rubbing soothing circles on it. Not too shortly after you felt someone put their head on your knee. You look down to see Wooyoung just resting there, he was practically wrapped around your leg. His hand was drawing small circles on your calf. He seemed to be content just in your presence. Everyone was awfully quiet listening to Mingi, his voice fitted through the space as they recorded one of the slower songs on the album. You took a page out of Woo’s book and leaned your head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. You could feel him look at you with surprise, but he leaned his head on yours just a couple of seconds later. Everyone seemed tired, it almost felt too quiet but it was a comfortable quiet. You could get used to this kind of peace and quiet. 

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 5)

Taglist:@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland

[finniestoncrane]

hello again friendos!! shockingly close to my third year with this blog and i'm hitting my next big milestone!! 💚💚💚 this time, i've leaned into my love of all things cowboys and outlaws!! ✨acab forever✨ but let's suspend disbelief!! please, step into ⭐sheriff finnie's⭐ office and tell me all about that bad, bad bean so we can fix up a ⛓️‍💥wanted poster⛓️‍💥 for you!! 🤠

EVENT IS NOW CLOSED

so here's the rules, pardner:

there's going to be 20 possible options for the main posts (i'll only be doing one post per character, so be QUICK because it is first come first serve with the character and the theme!!)

i'll keep the list below the read more updated so you can see what's still available: ONCE SOMETHING HAS BEEN PICKED IT IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE (i'll update when i can, but remember i'm sleepy and on gmt time)

you can opt to turn yourself in (for a character pairing) OR

pick ONE from EACH OF THE THREE lists below

please send me an ask with your choices!! (you can also specify the version of the character from the ones i write if the option is there and let me know reader details too)

i'll then create your bounty and pair it with a cute little wanted poster

ok, enough ramblin'!! let's get out there and clean up this here town!! YEE-HAW!!💚 and all of my love and heart to everyone who tolerates me and encourages me and makes this life worth living 💚💚💚

🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie3k (to follow or to block)

Ok, take a seat there. Now, are you here to turn yourself in, or tattle on someone else?

"I'm actually a sneaky little outlaw, and I'm turning myself in. I will now describe my crimes to you in the hopes that you can find my accomplice." - Please tell me a little bit about yourself and I'll pair you up with a character!! Let me know if this is going to be a bonnie and clyde style love affair or just two criminals getting up to mischief!!

OR

"I'm here to tattle!! Please, Sheriff Finnie, they're so bad... I want them behind bars!!" - Please pick ONE EACH from the THREE lists below!!

Which Bad, Bad Bastard™️are you hoping we can catch?

arkham!riddler(dc)

any other riddler (dc)

farrell!penguin(dc)

scarecrow (dc)

gotham!zsasz (dc)

arkham!two face (dc)

captain boomerang (dc)

arkham!bane (dc)

king shark (dc)

doctor phosphorus (dc)

cooper howard (fallout)

john hancock (fo4)

nick valentine (fo4)

sniper/mick mundy (tf2)

scout/jeremy willis (tf2)

cecil stedman (invincible)

arthur morgan (rdr2)

micah bell (rdr2)

egon spengler (ghostbusters)

nick (l4d2)

And what kind of criminal acts have they been up to?

deadbeat parent (breeding kink)

big bad misconduct (noncon)

disturbing the peace (somnophilia)

attempted murder (choking)

cattle rustling (pet play)

defamation of character (degradation/humiliation)

bribery and back alley dealings (praise kink)

illicit public conduct (dry humping)

stalking and harrassment (voyeurism)

greivous bodily harm (marking kink)

pickpocketing (fingering)

mishandling of goods (breast play)

moonshining (cockwarming)

running an illegal betting game (edging)

evading arrest (oral sex)

home invasion (daddy/mommy kink)

stage coach robbery (stolen kiss)

prison break (face sitting)

selling snake oil (mistaken for a couple)

indecent business proposals (confessing "i love you")

I see... Well, let's bring the bastard in!! Now as for the matter of the... condition... What would you like us to advertise?

Wanted: Dead or Alive (surprise me)

Wanted: Dead (ficlet)

Wanted: Alive (headcanons)

Not Wanted At All (moodboard)

[shaddork]

Fic Recs - Masterlist

These are in no particular order, but descriptions, pairings, and links will all be included. For more detail on tags etc you will have to go look through them yourself, this is not meant to be exhaustive. More or less a list of fics that I really like and recommend. I like a lot of angst and darker content (not that all of these are like that!) so make sure it's a fic that you're able to handle.

Main Masterlist Updated: 4/30/2025

04:19 by deedoodaadee - Jason Todd/Reader & Dick Grayson/reader

A phone call from Dick reminds you that you can run all you want but all the problems you try to leave behind will catch up to you eventually. What will you do then?

Dear Daddy Long Legs by AthenaGC94 - Jason Todd/Reader

“I’m looking for an application for a scholarship.” “You didn’t have to hack our systems to apply for a scholarship,” Tim deadpanned, “I wasn’t aware you could go to college if you’re legally dead.” His eye twitched. “I’m looking for an applicant,” he amended, “She already applied.” Tim finally looked at him. “She?”

Devoted Little Thing by teklarn - Jason Todd/Reader

After the death of your boyfriend, Jason Todd, your life has never been the same. You abandon everything you've ever known: your job working for Batman as a detective, your home, your friends. That is until three years after his death, your life is saved by a mysterious vigilante calling himself the Red Hood. You assume it was a one-off; that the infamous anti-hero just happened to be in the right place at the right time. But you're finding his calling card everywhere. He's around every single corner―you can't seem to get rid of him. The mystery of his identity brings you back to Bruce in hopes of finding out who he is. But as intimidating as the Red Hood is, with his blurry morals and all, you can't help but find yourself falling for him. Maybe he's the answer to your loneliness.

Josie and the Pussycat by insert_cooler_username - Jason Todd/Reader

“Got your letter,” he grumbles, coming closer, looming over your supine form. A mass of muscle and leather and anger. “Is that what you really want?” “What?” you snap out. “A divorce?” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “No, what I want is a husband that will actually come home and raise his kid like he promised. But instead I have someone who follows us around on rooftops and lurks in the shadows thinking he’s some silent protector and not a fucking deadbeat. So yeah, I’ll settle for a divorce. It’s the next best thing I have.” - Your husband left you before he could fuck things up. Too bad he still is when he appears in your life several years later, on the advent of your move from Gotham, and asks to meet his daughter. The past is a hard pill to swallow, but Josie deserves a dad. You just have to make sure you don't pussy out of seeing Jason again. Or, at least, that you don't kill each other.

My Beloved Lazarus by MrsJasonTodd - Jason Todd/OC

“When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”” ‭‭ Jason Todd has known his best friend since the 3rd grade, when she took the chance to befriend the strange kid that only ever played by himself on the playground. And though the two were quite the odd pair, they were inseparable. As they matured, their bond deepened, never growing apart even as everything around them changed. But as a sudden tragedy strikes, it shatters their idyllic world and tears them apart. The aftermath is cruel and unforgiving, the deep scars forever lingering. But despite the distance and the passage of time, their hearts never truly let go of the tender love they once knew. Each tried to move on, but memories of their childhood and the bond they shared lingered. Eventually, the red string of fate in its clever, clever ways, will find a way to draw them back together by the very stitching of their wounds.

What if I Do it Anyway by Midnightdragon07 - Jason Todd/Reader

Jason returned after three months of endless missions with the outlaws, to his favorite safe-house. No neighbors, The perfect entrance and exit to the building with no nosy onlookers. Did he mention no neighbors to hear him clumping around with his heavy uncomfortable boots at odd hours of the night? Because that feels like the most important part. Except, something was off, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It set off all paranoia that’s been ingrained in every last cell on his body for the past 20 years of his life. It took him some thorough searching of his apartment, the alleyway and hall. But he finally figured it out. He had a neighbor.

Invisible String by thelastpeasant - Dick Grayson/Reader

Working as Dick Grayson’s personal assistant, was somehow the most anticlimactic and bizarre thing that had ever happened in her life. Mainly, because she had only seen the man a handful of times at best. Let’s backtrack a little, shall we?

The Crow and The Hood by s_porter306 - Jason Todd/OC

"’Cause I have nothing left to lose; See me bare my teeth for you; Who, who are you?" -- Rebecca Monet donned the mantle of the Silver Crow, another one of Gotham's knights in shining armor, five years prior. It felt like a life ago, having what was left of him-Robin-taken from her. Jason Todd has been dead for six years, and this has been the truth she's held on to ever since. That simple fact-the words she forced herself to say walking out of that hospital in Bosnia: Jason is dead. Now, a new vigilante shows up in Gotham, disrupting the gentle balance Gotham had experienced the past few months. Drug trade hits the skies, which means that leaders will begin to fight for control of the money in no time, and the new vigilante, Red Hood, becomes a problem. Even more of a problem when the giant red helmet comes off, and the face beneath it belongs to none other than the second Robin. Bruce Wayne's dead son and Rebecca's old flame. Jason Todd.

The Pizza Delivery Girl's Survival Guide to Gotham City by Morveren - Jason Todd/Reader

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn. People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving. Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank? Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread? Because let's face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

[4kingz]

Just for the Summer | Ticci Toby X Reader

Summary : Camp Redwood is just what you needed—free food and a break from everything back home. No signal, no drama, just trees, bug spray, and a summer to reset. The other counselors are easy to get along with, each one bringing their own energy to the group. It’s a peaceful routine—until things start to feel a little less like a break and more like something else. People come and go, and you start to realize there’s more to this place than you first thought. But for now, all you really need to do is enjoy the simple moments. Right?

Warnings : Nothing I can think of yet! There will definitely be some later, I'll update each chapters warnings as they're posted! Word count 2.7k A/N : Hie! I've never posted anything online before, I'm very anxious about this LOL but I hope it's enjoyable regardless! This is for fun right now and I'm unsure of how long it'll be & whatnot. This is going to be a painful-slow burn fic, as they're my favorites :insert evil laugh: anyways, enjoy the first chapter!

divider by @cafekitsune (© 2023-2024)

The bus smells like old leather, sweat, and something vaguely burnt—the way all public transportation does.

I’ve been on it for hours, watching the roads thin out into winding dirt paths, the kind that only lead to places people forget about. The trees are thick and heavy with fog, their branches curling toward the road like fingers stretching for something just out of reach.

The scenery is gorgeous. Creepy, in its own way. But it’s enticing, too.

There hasn’t been much talking. A few of the other counselors murmur to each other here and there, heads bobbing with the movement of the bus, but for the most part, it’s quiet. I figure it won’t be like this for long, so I might as well soak it up while I can.

Shifting in my seat, I adjust my backpack in my lap. At first, I took this job for the paycheck. The job listing made it sound easy—a summer in the woods, good money, free food. But after thinking about it more, I realized I needed something different. Something away from everything. I told myself it’d be fun. Maybe a little nostalgic, even.

Even if the view is a bit eerie and uninviting.

The driver clears his throat.

“Couple more miles,” he grunts, knuckles tight on the wheel. “Once we get past the old bridge, you’ll see the camp soon after.”

No one seems to have the energy to respond.

I don’t either. Instead, I lean my head against the window, watching as the trees blur past.

They’re dense out here, packed so tightly together that the spaces between them seem darker than they should be. Their branches stretch overhead, filtering the daylight until everything has that dim, greenish tint, like the world is underwater. The bus rattles along the uneven road, and for a moment, I just breathe, sinking into the rhythm of the movement, the steady pulse of tires crunching over gravel.

It’s calming.

Just trees, stretching on forever, untouched. I try to picture what the camp will look like—cabins by the lake, a big open field for activities, kids running around in bright-colored shirts. The kind of summer job I can look back on fondly. Maybe even one I’d come back to next year if I like it enough.

The driver flicks on the radio, muttering something about hating the quiet. The speakers crackle, then settle on a warbly folk song.

“There we go,” he mumbles.

The bus jolts as it crosses the bridge, wooden planks creaking under the weight of the tires. The water below is dark, slow-moving. Definitely not the kind of water you’d want to swim in. 

It felt like the whole day had passed by before we finally arrived.

A huge wooden sign hangs above the dirt path in front of us, written in all red paint and welcoming bubble letters.

‘Welcome to Camp Redwood’

The bus slugs along, before we reach what looks like the main campsite.

It’s way bigger than what I could’ve ever imagined. The main lodge stands at the center, an old two-story building with a wraparound porch and a roof that looks like it’s seen better days. The cabins are scattered near the lake, their wooden frames blending into the tree line. A toolshed leans slightly to one side, like it’s trying to back away into the woods.

No lights. No movement. Not even an animal in sight. For a place that’s about to be filled with kids and fun activities in a week, it's oddly... quiet.

The driver clears his throat again like he’s about to say something, but in the end, he just sighs and eases the bus to a stop.

“We’re here.”

As I expected, the silence doesn’t last long. The other counselors immediately burst into conversation, gasping at the sight of the camp and talking over each other as they shuffle down the aisle and off the bus.

I decide to wait, grab my bag and follow as the last person passes me. The driver doesn’t even glance our way, tapping his fingers against the wheel in time with the radio. Some country tune seemed to gain his favor more than we managed to. The moment we’re all off, he pulls onto the roundabout path and drives away without a word.

Wow. The way here was impressive enough but the camp itself is just… wow. 

“Counselors! Glad to see you all made it in one piece!”

Everyone stops short, twisting around to find the source of the voice.

There’s a guy on the porch, leaning casually against one of the wooden beams like he’s been there the whole time. He’s got messy blonde hair and the same Camp Redwood shirt we’re all wearing—an aggressively bright orange with plain black lettering. It clashes horribly. But he’s managed to make his stand out with a few personal touches.

A green beanie. A name tag pinned to his chest, the word BEN scrawled across it in some weird, almost alien-looking font. A few layered bracelets—woven, beaded, maybe even handmade—clink softly as he moves.

He grins, stretching his arms out like he’s welcoming us into his home. “Come on in. There’s plenty of rooms for everyone—first come, first serve.” He winks.

That’s all it takes. The group surges forward, practically tripping over themselves to get inside. I wasn’t too concerned about what room I’d get, but their excitement is contagious, and now I kind of want to check them out, too.

The inside of the lodge is somehow even bigger than the outside. 

It’s one of those places that feels like it was built to be rustic, but maybe just a little too much—like they took the word “charm” and ran with it until the edges started fraying. Wooden beams stretch across the ceiling, and the floors creak underfoot, even though I’m not sure how much traffic this place gets. The furniture's old but stylish, everything in that faded, vintage style—couches that look like they belong in your grandma’s house and coffee tables that probably came with matching coasters back in the day.

I glance around at the others, already getting a feel for the space. Some people are checking out the check-in desk, but there’s no one behind it. A few other counselors are leaning against the wall by the fireplace, casually chatting.

Ben, still hanging by the door, lets the others scramble past him with a casual wave. “The rooms aren’t gonna pick themselves.”

Everyone seems to take that as a challenge. The buzz of excitement builds as counselors crowd toward the stairs, chatting about how nice the place is, how big the rooms must be, and if anyone’s heard the rumors about the lake.

The stairs creak as I make my way up, and the hallway stretches out before me, long and narrow. I let the smell of pine trees and old wood lead me, the smell oddly refreshing. 

As I pass by the rooms, I take note that every single one of them is different. Whether it’s the way they’re arranged or the architecture entirely, none of them were the same. Every door is different, too. Some were engraved with florals, others were boxier and had no markings. The handles were different, too, some more updated than others. 

Whoever built this place must be proud. I couldn’t even imagine how long it must’ve taken to build, let alone to continue updating it. Some pillars were definitely newer than others, showing just how much care was put into this place. 

I pause in front of the last door—a corner room with a direct view of the lake behind us. It’s simple, but smaller than some of the other rooms I passed by. Must be why no one’s claimed it yet. It is a little cramped, but the bed is made with clean sheets, and there’s a small desk with a cute green lamp and a couple of old books stacked neatly beside it. I drop my bag onto the bed and run my hand over the smooth surface of the desk, feeling the faint grooves of wear in the wood. 

It was perfect. 

I set my things down carefully—my jacket draped over the back of the chair, my bag placed neatly by the door. I take a second to unpack just the essentials: my notebook, my charger, the books I’ve been meaning to read. It’s kind of funny how much of your life can be tucked into a bag. I set my phone down on the nightstand, its soft glow a reminder that I’m still tethered to the outside world, even if I’m a few hours away from it now.

I sit on the bed once everything’s to my liking, letting the silence wrap around me like a blanket.

Everything about this cabin was so comforting—the way the wood smelled, the old style of the furniture, like it had stories to tell. It all felt... settled, in a way. Even the soft creaks of the floorboards seemed welcoming, like the place was gently sighing, content to have someone here.

It’s only been maybe fifteen minutes, but I can already tell I’m going to love spending the next few months here. My eyes flutter shut at the thought. It’s strange how quickly the exhaustion hits. I didn’t realize how drained I was until I actually got into bed. I deserve a quick nap. Just a little one. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hey, counselors,” Ben’s voice carries up the stairs, sharp and casual. “Dinner’s ready, and we’re meeting in the dining room. I wanna get everyone settled before we start. You’ve got five minutes.”

Around me, doors creak open as everyone scrambles to put their things away. The walls here are thin—I can hear every shuffle of footsteps and rustle of bags being shoved into corners. 

So much for a nap.

I push myself off the bed, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. Everything’s already unpacked, so I might as well head down and grab a seat before the ‘good’ spots are taken. 

The floorboards groan beneath me as I make my way out, the sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. 

Downstairs, the lobby is just as stunning as before, its large windows framing the darkening sky. I catch myself staring again, drawn to the lounge chairs by the window—faded with time, but still holding onto some quiet character, the geometric patterns barely visible beneath years of wear. I can already picture myself sitting there with a book, the camp buzzing in the background. “Admiring the view?”

I spin around so quickly my heart practically leaps out of my chest. My hands fly up to my chest, a reflex to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline.

When the hell did he get there? 

Ben’s standing in the doorway, watching me with an unreadable expression, though I can tell he’s enjoying this—his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I exhale, forcing my hands to drop from my chest. “I didn’t hear you.”

His grin sharpens. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

I glance toward the dining hall. “Dinner time, right?”

Ben nods, rocking back on his heels. “Unless you wanna skip and live off granola bars for the rest of the summer. No judgment.”

Tempting, but I shake my head. “I’ll pass.”

"Suit yourself." He turns and starts walking, and I fall into step beside him. As we move, I find my eyes drifting to the walls, each one covered in carvings that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. Some are intricate, delicate swirls and symbols, while others are rushed and jagged, like someone had been in a hurry. Initials, strange symbols, even full sentences, as if the lodge has been quietly collecting secrets over the years. I slow my pace just a bit, letting my gaze wander, taking in the little details. There’s a heart carved into the wood, faded names inside it, a date so deep in the grain it almost looks like it could split the wood apart. And near the door, there’s a message so faint it’s nearly illegible: "Don’t look up."

I don’t.

When we step into the dining hall, it’s completely empty.

I slow, taking it in. The space is just as intricately designed and furnished as the rest of the cabin. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Long wooden tables stretch across the room, set with mismatched plates and silverware. Lantern-style lights hang overhead, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. 

He unlatches a few of the old windows as I take my seat, letting the air breathe through the room. It rolls in slow, like it’s been waiting for someone to open the place up again—cool and woodsy, carrying that sharp pine scent mixed with the damp, earthy smell of lake water. It shouldn’t smell good, not really. But it does. It smells like summer. Like scraped knees and mosquito bites and campfire stories you only half-remember later. 

It settles around me in a weirdly soothing way, like the room just exhaled and said finally.

“So,” Ben says, turning to face me with one eyebrow cocked, “what brings you here, counselor?”

There’s something about him that’s disarming. If I had to guess, it’s probably his carefree attitude. But still, for someone I just met, he’s making it way harder than I expected to not just spill everything.

I shrug, tapping the edge of my fork against the table. “No big reason, really. Saw the listing online, thought it sounded pretty chill. Good pay, free food... hard to pass that up.”

His grin stretches wider, like he’s won something. “I knew that would work. That little incentive combo? Totally my idea. I figured it’d reel in a couple of fun ones.”

“You saying I was lured?” 

“I’m saying it worked,” he replies, his voice full of pride, like he’s been waiting to drop that bomb all night.

I bite back a laugh, but that eyebrow of his? That does me in. I can’t help it—my laugh spills out before I even realize it.

“Nice to know I’m early!” A new voice cuts through the moment. We both glance toward the entrance, where a taller woman with dark brown braids steps in, all easy smiles and confidence. She moves like she’s done this before—whatever this is. I give her a quick wave as she slides into the seat across from me.

Ben finishes pouring water into the glass beside him and settles in.

“Nice of you to be early,” he says, nodding at her in an approving demeanor. Her face immediately brightens at the clear compliment, and she slides closer to the table, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Before things can stretch on too long, the rest of the counselors start trickling in, each finding their spot around the table. There’s the shuffle of chairs, the soft murmur of greetings, until finally, everyone settles into place.

Ben stands up then, the scrape of his chair loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. He scans the room with that same easy smile, giving a nod of acknowledgment to everyone around the table.

“Welcome to Camp Redwood,” he says, his voice carrying over the soft chatter, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.

The room erupts with cheers. For a group of just nine counselors, it somehow feels a lot louder than it should.

“Alright, alright,” Ben says, waving a hand as the noise starts to die down. He clears his throat, just loud enough to pull everyone’s focus back. “I’m not gonna kick things off with a lecture on rules—you all definitely read the application, right?” He grins, not waiting for an answer. “Tonight’s about us. The counselors. In a week, ‘us time’ goes out the window. The kids show up and we’re locked in for three months of chaos. I know I got a name tag, but I’m Ben. I’ve been here since the camps opened up six years ago.”

Ben’s gaze shifts to the redhead sitting to his left, who’s busy shoveling a forkful of chicken into his mouth. The guy pauses mid-chew, his eyes flicking up slowly like he can feel the weight of everyone’s attention on him.

“We’ll kick things off with introductions,” Ben says, “and then we’ll vote on how to wrap up the night.” 

This was proofread by friends and edited over the past few weeks before I finally decided to post it—hopefully it’s up to your guys' standards! If you’ve got any tips or comments, feel free to drop them <3

[ozzgin]

HIII!! i just wanted to say that i love love love you writing so much, and ive been reading a bunch of them for a while now!! i'm a writer (im rima!!), too, and i ADORE your writing style and you're description and the way you bring your characters to life and how i really can imagine them as though they were right next to me. it's always such a pleasure to see your posts, and pls accept my phone hugs AAAA !! ❤️❤️

could i be 💃🏻 anon? if not, 🧚🏻‍♀️, 🧜🏻‍♀️,🪻,🪐, 🍭 work too!! thank youuuu! all the love in the world!! keep doing what you're doing, you're so loved! please make sure to hydrate yourself and eat and take breaks!!

Sorry for clogging your post like this, anon, but I thought I'd use this opportunity to update the overall list. I'm afraid someone has claimed the dancing fever mere hours before you, but I am offering you the lollipop as a sweet alternative.

For the 🦨 and 🎤 anons, lamentably both those options (wing included) are already taken, so you will have to either conjure a new signature, or wrestle the copyright owners in fresh, slightly damp mud.

I thank everyone for the kind words; know that if we were ever stuck in a stereotypical Japanese romance anime together, I would - without exception - offer you my umbrella to shield you on your way home from high school. You'd try to deny my gesture, of course, but I would sprint away, vanishing into a cloud of dust before you can utter another word.

[babygirl-riley]

Lies

He was suppose to be dead…so how is Simon fucking Riley standing in front of you?

A/N: Guys these tik toks make my mind RUN! So her is another idea from this tik tok! Lost of heartache and angst so enjoy! 💙

“A broken heart is all that’s left.”

Warnings: ANGST, heartache, trauma, depression, mention of suicide, violance, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt. 2

Months. Months you sat crying in the shower. Screaming into your pillow. Hell you fucking slapped Soap because of this. Because Simon Riley died. Died when he promised to come home, you didn’t eat or sleep right. Price would eventually pull you aside to take a holiday. Clear your mind.

You did and all you did was drink and smoked the left over cigarettes of his. To eventually go shop for more and pretend he was smoking them. You drank all his whiskey and your wine. Your parents came over to make sure you weren’t dead, that you decided to pull a Romeo and Juliet bullshit. You wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t have taken your life.

Instead you drank until you didn’t feel the numbness. The sadness. The memories of both you and Simon. Simon plagued your mind, wanting his laugh to burst in the air. His voice. His hands. His kiss. Anything. So why not drink until you don’t remember the next day. You did this until going back into work.

Gaz would make sure you would be alright. Soap tried to make you laugh. Price made sure you wouldn’t run into the field killing yourself. Yet this was so much worse.

Price sat all of the task force down for a debriefing. Yet when the door opened it was him. Simon. Simon fucking Riley. Everyone froze, not because of him being alive, because they knew. They knew he would be alive. Nothing was said for a moment as you stared at him, waiting for him to say or move anything.

“Y/n,” Soap said closing the door behind him. You haven’t turned to him yet looking over the paperwork you had. “Do ya have a minute?”

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “John I am not doing your paperwork. Ghost already mentioned…”

“It’s not that Lass,” Soap mumbled playing with his hands. Soap argued that it would be not a smart idea. However, with the rat in the ranks it would convince that he was dead. “It’s Simon.”

You perked from that, you gave him a confused look. “What about him?” You knew after that, after Soap used Ghost’s name. The one you would say when you laughed, cried, moaned.

“They…they tried to get him out but…” The world flipped, you yelled at Soap and pushed him. Telling him to shut up but you also didn’t know that Simon was listening in. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want you to be the one not to know. Price convinced him due to the rat falling for the trap.

Simon heard you yell until the deafening slap echoed through the halls. You slapped him hard, you gritted through your teeth that he was a liar. You said that if his body is not here then it isn’t true. However, he knew that they convinced you that he was too burned to actually see him. His true form. Not a burnt crisp. They led you to the body, left small hints that it would have been his body.

He thought about you crying above the body. Screamed until you couldn’t. Held the bastards hand. Everything was suppose to not to happen. It shouldn’t have been months. He hoped that it wouldn’t. Price would give him updates on how you were doing. It didn’t sound good. He wished he could leave and get to you, hold you, and apologize for everything but he couldn’t.

Now he stands right here in front of you. Hate. Hate is the word the best describe your eyes. “Did you all know?” You voice said in the room. The quiet room. It was filled with venom. It was quiet.

No one said anything until you stood up and slammed your hand on the table. “Who fucking knew!” You snapped your head to Price.

“It was to pull Samson out.” Price said watching your move.

“Bring Samson out,” You repeated shaking your head, looking over at Simon. “You fucking bastard. You fucking bastard.”

No one expected the next thing, you walked over to him and pushed him hard. Slamming your fist into his chest. “You know how long I fucking grieved! How long my heart has been in pieces! You fucking just let this happen! Let me be in pain!”

Simon let you slam your fists into his chest. He deserved it. “You fucking promised! You promised! And it’s broken! It’s been fucking broken!”

Price told everyone to leave besides Simon, you, and Price. As everyone huddled out Simon grabbed your shoulders. “I had no choice.”

“Everyone has a choice!” You said pushing him one last time before facing away.

Price shook his head. “He didn’t, I wanted to tell ya but we couldn’t. We had to make it believable to bring him out.”

You shook your head. “I don’t care, you know what I’ve done the last couple of months? Did you know that empty feeling? Or the nights where I thought ending it all would have me not suffer?”

“Dove,” Simon mumbled reaching out to you. “It’s fucked up and I am sorry it happened. But I’m here now.”

You wanted to lean into him and let him hold you. There was just so much anger. Resentment. You just couldn’t believe that he would do that to you. You made the choices to drink and make yourself miserable sure but the feeling you had. The darkness that pulled you away from anything and anyone.

His hand burned your arm as he gently grabbed it. You ripped your arm away. “Fuck both of you,” Price face dropped to give more reassurance. “We are suppose to be a team.”

Simon knew that was a jab more for him. You both have been secretly running together until he had to fake his death. It was easy when he first did it, making sure that everyone knew he was dead so he could kill all the men that killed his family. Once Price came up to him and asked he declined it.

“No.” Simon firmly said and reaching for the door of Price’s office.

“Simon this would be the best route for the team,” Price explained standing up. “Why the hesitation?” Price knew. Simon knew that Price knew. He just wanted Simon to state it. Confirm Price’s suspicions. “It’s her isn’t it?”

Simon held the knob of the door tighter. All he did was nod his head. He couldn’t lie to Price even if he wanted to. “A year,” Price nodded, he didn’t know it was that long. “I can’t do it to her.”

Price sighed and walked over to place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t either but…we have to. It will unfortunately be the best time and convincing.”

It felt like a poison came out of Price’s mouth. He didn’t want to do it to his team, didn’t want to hurt nobody. Why everyone got to know? Do they could take care of you. Simon didn’t want that. It wasn’t fair ok your part. He promised to protect you no matter the cost. “Johnny tells her.” He spoke softly.

Price nodded in agreement. “I already assumed that.”

Couple of weeks later was when he wasn’t suppose to be there. Wasn’t suppose to hear your scream. The wail. The heart break. He had to contain himself not to run in there to hold you. Tell you it was some sick joke. “Simon.” Price warned.

Simon stared at him for a moment. His own heart shattering, before Simon could say anything the rat came running in. Anger boiled through his body as he watched him run in the shadows. Why does he get to comfort you? While he stood and watched the heart break unfold. He had to peel himself out of the building, Price sneaking him out and leave. Never had he cried before but after being dropped off at the solitary home, he cried for hours. Wishing that he could have done something better.

“Y/n.” Simon whispered. His heart shattering. Not looking at you. Not hearing you. Nothing was coming around.

It felt like hours of you not talking. Price didn’t want to say anything neither did Simon. They wanted you to speak. Thoughts ran wild in your mind. How could they? Why would they? You knew why it was beneficial for the mission. But was it for you? Was all the heartache and not working especially worth it? You can’t do this over and over again. The pain was too hard. You closed your eyes and shook your head.

You’re tired. You are mentally. Emotionally. Physically tired. You can’t deal with this again if it happens. Your heart is still broke and broke even more of that could be possible. You could feel the water more and more drowning you, you’ve been trying to come back for air. But now this? It went back to what it was.

“I’m done.” You said ripping your patch off and placing it on the table.

[insomniamamma]

By Starlight Alone: Ezra x F!Reader

Warnings: Lots of kissing, trespassing? Alcohol consumption. Implied smut. Ezra running his mouth. Like seriously, that guy could read the ingredient list on a cereal box and I would drop to my knees. Reader mentions early adulthood insecurities. No age gap. Reader is the same age as Ezra.

A/N: This was a funny one for me. If you've been looking at my blog you know I've been Going Through Some Shit. I found this story in my WIP folder with about the first third written. I had no memory of writing it. I'm going to look at it as a gift from the universe. In my mind this is the same reader as the Liminal AU but this can stand on its own.

“We suffer, I think, from a lack of stars.” “A lack of stars.” First time you’ve been able to enjoy the fire pit in months, the ground bone dry for so long, and now the air smells of rain and wet earth and worms and the smoke of the low embers. Cee ate her weight in s’mores and hotdogs toasted on sticks, and then retreated to her room to game. You look at Ezra, laid back as far as his battered lawn chair will allow, expect a smirk, but his face is grim. “You’re serious.”

"When’s the last time you saw a proper sky of stars? When’s the last time you saw the Milky Way?” You frown. “I don’t know really. Probably not since I still lived at home. I used to go and stand in the driveway and smoke when I couldn’t sleep. You remember the comet?” “The one that hit Jupiter?” “No the other one. I was home for Easter Break. It had two tails—“ “That was Hale-Bopp! Me and Damon dragged a couple of lawn chairs and sleeping bags into Ma’s back field. Damon filched some cigarettes and a bottle of some gruesome fruit wine. Wild Irish Rose if I recall correctly.” “Oooogh,” You shudder, recalling your own experiences with Wild I, namely being hauled back into your dorm room by well meaning friends, waking the next day with puke crusted in your hair. Ezra chuckles. “Me and my friends thought it was some kind of omen. My back home friends, not my college friends.”

Not sure why that distinction popped out of your mouth, brings back the judgement flickering in their eyes, the sense that they were all smarter than you despite your grades. Not smarter, but maybe better? More worldly at the very least. That small town dumb hick shame clings even now, decades from there, people closest to you then now facebook profiles that haven’t updated in years.

“You okay, honey?” You turn and Ezra’s eyes are fixed on yours, low cherry red glow of dying coals, ugly sodium street light shining them. “Yeah. Just thinking about back then. It’s funny, you know? We could’ve been watching that comet at the exact same time, couldn’t we?” Ezra stands suddenly, rusty lawn chair creaks in protest, squeal of metal and soft slither of wet grass and he hoses the coals, steam hissing and billowing up into the black. “Ez?” “Let’s go for a ride. Let’s go see some stars.” “What about Cee?” “What about her? She’s so embroiled in, what’s it? Baldur’s Gate? She likely won’t even notice we’re gone. She’s nearly grown. She’s not gonna burn the house down. How bout it, Sunny-girl? Take a ride with me.”

Drive a little ways out of the city in Ezra’s rattlebox truck, warbling AM station tinny through the speakers, I fall to pieces, Ezra’s rough voice threaded through with Patsy Cline’s, each time someone speaks your name, soft slither of slide guitars, soft glow of the dashboard lights ghosting him against the dark outside. You frown. “I thought there’d be more fireflies this time of year,” you say, thinking of late Sunday nights in the back seat, watching the fields light with green fairy fire, background noise of grown up conversation, your folks just talking about the week to come without any care for the green stars stuttering in the grass, so many, driving so fast that the light pulled into elongate streaks like hyperspace in Star Wars. “Haven’t been as many lately,” says Ezra, “Not like it used to be growin up.”

He steers you down a narrow gravel road that opens up onto a wide field, pulls off into a bit of mowed berm bordered by row on row of corn, blade-like leaves stretching skyward, smell of ripening, a bit like the smell of come. Signs posted every few feet with the brand and variety. Ezra kills the engine and hops out. You hook the sweaty sixer from the foot well and follow him, climb up in the truck bed beside him. Pop a beer and hand it to him, clink your bottles together and drink. “Close you eyes,” “Why?” Ezra smirks, that slow smile that you sometimes want to slap but more often want to kiss off his face. “If we’re gonna really see the stars, we’ve got to get our night eyes on. Close ‘em. I’ll set a timer. Three minutes should do.” “Hmmm, you’re just going to get up to shenanigans while my eyes are closed.” “Oi! I am an honorable man! I am offended that you think I would use your temporary lack of sight to my advantage!” You hear the smile in his words. “I’m counting on it, handsome.”

You are the least surprised person in the world when his lips find yours, tender press and prickle of his mustache, tongue licking languid into your mouth, your Ezra who can always kiss you breathless, that slow way of his that makes you ache for him, a soft cry when he withdraws but then he nuzzles into the column of your throat, grazes his teeth against that one spot that makes you squirm and break into gooseflesh. “You don’t have your eyes closed, you jackass,” “I do not,” he says, nibbles at the join of your neck and shoulder, “My need to make love to your under the stars has eclipsed my desire to see them clearly. You can describe them to me. If you can keep your focus on the night sky, that is.” “You, sir, are a fucking menace.” “I am indeed. Open your eyes and help me with these buttons.”

[desiresiwant]

Something About You Chapter Three

pairing: Seth Clearwater X Black!OC

word count: 3.1k~

summary: Seth Clearwater finally imprints on Diamond Hicks, someone who just isn’t looking love. While she struggles with her feelings and promises, Seth struggles to find a balance between his new and old self so he can become the wolf his imprint needs.

a/n: Sorry for the late ass update, though all have been warned this fic has slow updates. Didn’t expect it to take this long but it happens. Just a pallet cleanser to write for fun until my main ones are completed, but I do have majority of the fic outlined. This chapter was longer than expected so I split it. 2nd update coming tomorrow. If there’s a warning I skipped that’s addressed in the SAY (something about you) Masterlist, let me know. And let me know what you think !

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Chapter Three | Without A Doubt, I’m Doubtful

La Push, Washington | February 9, 2024

        𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗗𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 Seth needed to carefully plan out before dropping everything for Seattle by sunrise, as the little voice in his head kept pushing him to do. This was his first official responsibility that was bigger than the pack, one that adultized him more than the little boy everyone perceived him as. 

        He knew there was much to improve and was willing to do that and more, but not with this weighing heavily on his mind. 

        Leah was spotted outside their childhood home dragging packed luggages to the trunk of her car as Seth arrived home. The house now belonged to her after their mother moved in with Charlie soon after their engagement. They both agreed not to go all out for the wedding and wanted to keep it small despite their guest list exceeding their expectations. The ceremony was held in Charlie’s backyard. Filled with vampires and shifters forcing themselves to get along for one night.

        Though Seth had a room at Charlie’s and have crashed there a few times, he chose to stay at his childhood home. It was closer to the pack and most familiar.

        Seth rushed to grab the other two suitcases on the porch and handed them off. “Thanks,” Leah took them with ease without breaking a sweat and placed them carefully on top of each other in the back seat. By the looks of them stuffed like burritos, it would’ve been heavy for the average human though it was nothing for either of them.

        “Going somewhere?” Seth asked the obvious, but her leaving wasn’t discussed prior like usual.

        “Oh, yeah. Simone’s going on a business trip to Thailand and I’m her plus one. It was originally a week-long affair, but we added an extra week to do our own thing with Valentine's Day around the corner.” She closed the door behind her, standing like a child who’d been caught with her hands shoved deep in her sweat pockets. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you since it was super last minute on my end. At least you got here before we left so I can tell you now.”

        It was no surprise Leah would follow her imprint and wife, Simone, around the world. Whenever they’re countries away due to the demands of Simone’s job, Seth was forced to endure Leah’s snappy mood swings and late-night sappy moments wishing their distance was closer.

        Simone worked as a marketing consultant. Her office was based in Seattle but was able to work from home the majority of the time. She had been talking about this project for a while about some collaboration overseas to bring their products into the US market, and often stayed up late running off days-old coffee perfecting her appeal. Seth believed in her though. Her talent, determination, and endless creativity was something he admired and wouldn’t replace her with anyone else.

        “You’ll be okay by yourself though, right? You don’t need me to pick up some night lights or call every night to be sure there’s no monsters in the house like old times?” Leah teased her brother with ancient memories from when he was ten and was afraid of the dark since watching that one scary zombie movie their dad told him not to watch. It was all everyone would talk about around the time and he felt excluded from their conversations and watched it anyway. Big mistake.

        Fear of the dark lasted for another two years until he learned to face the fear himself. The movie was a core memory and would forever hold up space in his head.

        “Ha ha. Very funny.” Seth shrugged off her hand that patted his shoulder. “I’ll be fine just like always. It’s you who’ll need me to call every night.”

        “Just to check in and make sure the house isn’t on fire.” She admitted with humor on her tongue, though she was very much serious. 

        “I’m an adult. I can look after myself. No need for unnecessary daily check-ins.”  Seth bit back which Leah didn’t seem to mind and playfully elbowed his chest to lighten the mood.

        “You’ll always be my responsibility no matter your age. Besides, no one protects you better than me.”

        Though it was true and Leah would forever be his protector, Seth didn’t come here for that. He grew anxious the longer he prolonged the conversation, and even debated whether he should wait until after they returned from Thailand or never bring it up. It wouldn’t be fair on them. Leah would kill him, plus he needed her guidance. 

        The second he gained enough courage to speak out, Leah turned her back to him. She noticed one of the bag strings was sticking out from the back car door. Sweat gathered in Seth’s palms and his eyes squeezed shut as he fought again to talk himself out of backing out. 

        Just do it, Seth. Just get it over and done with. 

        “I imprinted.” Seth blurted with his eyes still shut. 

        He peeked open an eye when silence filled the void. Leah immediately stopped what she was doing and spun back around with her eyes nearly bulging out the sockets. She appeared more confused than surprised, studying Seth as if trying to figure out if he was bullshitting her or not. 

        “Oh,” it didn’t sound as exciting as Seth expected. “Oh, wow, you’re not lying. When was this?”

        “Not too long ago. Maybe twenty or forty minutes ago, but it feels like seconds.”

        “Oh.”

        Seth went on to introduce the little information he knew about Diamond, including the fact she lived in Seattle and attended U.W. The crease between her brows deepened as more information was revealed about his imprint, further confirming the truth of this blessing she seemed hesitant about. 

        “Oh,” she said again while crossing her arms with no care for wrinkling her white V-neck t-shirt. 

        Seth kissed his teeth with annoyance. “Can you say anything other than ‘oh’? There’s already a lot on my mind and you’re just adding to it. If you’re not happy for me, at least pretend to be.”

        “O-of course, I am. I’m over the moon happy for you. It’s just—” Leah shook away her thoughts and threw her arms around his body, pulling him into a hug that best expressed her current emotions. “Wow. I knew this moment would come eventually, but I never thought it would be now. My little brother, an imprinted wolf. Sucks you won’t depend on me anymore now there’s someone else depending on you.”

        “I’ll always be Seth.” He hugged her tighter. “Your brother. Your responsibility. I’ll always need you. That never changes no matter what.”

        Seth understood the burden Leah was forced to carry after their dad died. Having to pick everyone up while also struggling to piece herself together was far too much for her to handle. And on top of that, dealt with a horrible heartbreak that left its stamp on the pack. The guilt each of them carried, especially Leah, made her overly protective of Seth and their mom. She promised never to lose anyone dear to her again.

        It was also the perfect distraction when her ex-fiancé and alpha of the Uley pack, Sam, imprinted on their cousin Emily. 

        It took a toll on Leah’s mental health. Everything within the reservation even down to the mind-link was a trigger—constant vivid displays of their puppy love, their constant suffocating presence, and endless apologies. There was only so much a strong woman like Leah could take until she had enough. Until she was willing to risk her safety as a lone wolf and left the reservation to live with a friend in L.A. 

        Nearly radio silent until the wedding and arrived with Simone, her wife. The second recorded imprint between the same sex and the quickest marriage amongst the pack. The first same-sex imprint was Quil’s great-grandfathers. Anything beyond them hadn’t been passed down or simply forgotten.

        Leah hinted before—whenever she remembered she had a phone and very worried family members who needed to hear from her to know that she was alive—that she met someone new but never explicitly stated she’d imprinted. It’s possible she couldn’t believe it either like it was too good to be true. She probably thought something was wrong with her for imprinting on a woman rather than a man, though she’d always been open to both ideas if it worked out.

        She loved telling the story of how it happened. She was heading back to her tiny shared apartment after a long shift where a drunk woman entered the same elevator as her. She wore a black long-sleeved sequin dress with a birthday stash dangling off her shoulders. Her naturally thick hair curling at the roots after long hours spent straightening it. She was a stumbling mess still singing her heart out. Leah thought Simone was noisy but cute…until she threw up on her. 

        But the second she met those big brown eyes, she just knew she would never leave her side. 

        Simone accepted the imprint the second Leah brought it up. She had no fear of wolves because her grandmother spoke of the legends within her own tribe. Her father’s side of the family, who were loudly and proudly Black, were deeply involved in Christianity and didn’t believe in folklore and immediately disputed such ideas. Her mother stayed true to her cultural roots and her father was open to them too, but never brought up stories regarding wolves because the gene wasn’t in their line. But Simone trusted her gut and her grandmother, and was ready to walk to the courthouse to get married. 

        Wasting time wasn’t something she did. Why wait when there’s no reason to? As she infamously said.

        Leah pulled from the hug first. “So I’m assuming you’ll follow her to U.W?”

        “Of course. There’s no other choice, but…”

        Confusion caused the crease between her brows to deepen. “But what?”

        “But I’m afraid to leave home. To leave behind all that I know to start over again.” Seth shamelessly admitted. Once he started, more doubt fed off him. “What if I’m doing all this for nothing? Adjusting my life to be with someone who’ll end up rejecting me?”

        Leah stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t talk like that.”

        “I’m being realistic. That’s what you taught me; to be realistic about my options because the world isn’t all peaches and cream.”

        Her wide-set eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t listen to me. I was being an asshole around the time because I was in a shitty mood.”

        Which she was constantly in before meeting Simone.

        “But you had a point.” Seth chewed his bottom lip as Embry’s words haunted him again. “Embry says I still have the mindset of a boy and a woman like Diamond wouldn’t go for that type of man. I’m starting to think he’s right.”

        “Embry doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s a fucking idiot and you’re an even bigger idiot for believing him.” Leah said with supportive words that came out very harsh, though it was very true. “You’re so kind and thoughtful and loyal and filled with so much love to give—you’re literally the definition of a man written by a woman.”

        “I have no idea what that means?”

        “It means you’re perfect the way you are. Diamond will love you as you are, not who you’re trying to be from someone who’s gone through the entire reservation. She’s your imprint for a reason. Nobody else but yours.”

        Seth leaned against the car with a sigh. “What should I do?”

        “I think you know what to do. You just need someone to say it out loud, and I say you should follow your heart.” Leah joined his side, pushing back her short, sleek bob. Her tribal tattoo peeked from beneath her short-sleeved shirt, paired with grey sweats easily slipped on after phasing. “Seattle isn’t but four hours away, shorter if you run the distance. The reservation will always be here awaiting your return as well as home. It’s not going anywhere.”

        “I’m scared. Like really scared. I don’t know if I’m ready as excited as I am about it.” Seth admitted, and Leah was forthcoming about this vulnerable moment he wanted to have with her. 

        “No one’s ever ready. There’s no straightforward guide to this, and it might get tougher as you follow along. I don’t want to lose my brother to someone I’ve never met, but I know the consequence of not following your gut.” She said. “I was scared shitless when I left the reservation but I’m happy that I did because I wouldn’t have met Simone. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today. She teaches me the world is bigger than home, and no matter where I make myself comfortable—home is home. My duty to the pack isn’t diminished because of it. Imprinting is a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon. Don’t let your fear discourage you from your future. Besides, if Jacob, our alpha, manages the distance with so much shit on his shoulders, so can you.”

        This was a lot to take in but Seth was happy he spoke with Leah. Her encouragement helped silence his fear and motivated him to press the gas pedal full force. More harm would come to this if he hesitated. Diamond didn’t deserve that. 

        Simone came rushing out the house with a last-minute bag she forgot to pack. Leah rushed to help and took the bag from her hands so she could hug Seth upon hearing he imprinted.  

        “You know I have an empty flat in Seattle that I rarely use unless I’m needed at the company for an extensive project. You’re more than welcome to live there.” Offered Simone, already typing in the address to send. She wore one of Leah’s shirts tucked in high-waisted jeans. Her silk press still going strong, wrapped underneath a silky scarf. 

        “I appreciate that. I definitely wasn’t looking forward to apartment hunting.” Or bothering Edward to look for him. 

        “You probably don’t even know where to start.” Leah teased and Seth didn’t take it to heart because she was telling the truth. He had no idea and was thankful Simone did. 

        Simone slapped Leah’s arm, to which she threw out her hands in defeat. Then sought forgiveness by wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer where she molded perfectly. Likely using her heat to get warm. “It’s okay not knowing where to start. My first apartment was a room rented at my roommate's mom’s house who sat on the couch watching TV all day. I didn’t read the details thoroughly and was stuck there for a few months.” She said while fidgeting with Leah’s wedding band. Both were identical with each other’s initials carved on the inside. “Seattle moves fast compared to here. The city is chaotic and filled with impatient people who think the world revolves around them. Don’t let them walk over you. It’ll take some days getting used to the noise, maybe more with werewolf hearing, so I recommend noise-canceling headphones.”

        “I second that or you’ll be dealing with a migraine for weeks.” Leah promoted the usage of noise-canceling headphones.

        Seth made note of that and more advice Simone offered. It was his first time living in the city away from the peaceful setting the reservation offered. He needed every helpful tip to make this transition run smoothly. 

        He hugged his sisters one last time before they drove early to the airport so as not to miss their flight. He promised to keep them updated and when he’d reached the flat safely without a problem. Simone desperately wanted to meet Diamond before they left but there wasn’t any time and promised they would all grab a bite together when they returned. 

        On his way back to the beach, Seth called his mom to tell her the good news. She was surprisingly up, catching up on a rerun of her favorite show. He had to hold the phone away from all her screaming. Charlie busted through with his rifle, convinced intruders had broken in. Though he didn’t understand the concept in detail nor wished to, he was very happy for Seth too. 

        Many promises were made to bring Diamond home so his mother could cook her dinner and likely embarrass Seth with childhood stories and photos. Not something he looked forward to, already feeling his cheeks burn red at the thought. But if Diamond liked that kind of stuff and was interested in knowing more, he was willing to sacrifice his embarrassment. 

        Diamond seemed in a better mood than earlier. She was outside the tent building sandcastles with Kimi and Claire, who talked her ear off about all of her favorite movies and those actors’ upcoming projects. Diamond didn’t seem to mind her yapping and even added new movies to add to her watchlist. 

        Quil didn’t stray far as per usual, but at least he wasn’t hovering. He seemed pleased that Claire was socializing outside of him and didn’t dare interrupt their bonding. 

        Seth liked that Diamond was getting along with the other imprints. She has that aura about her that gravitated people toward her though she didn’t seem the type to meet them halfway given she stuck with those she knew unless they went up to introduce themselves. Like Seth, completely struck by her beautiful smile. So warm and forthcoming, it had him smiling as if she was smiling at him. 

        He quickly bit it back and hid himself before he freaked her out anymore tonight.

        He remained her shadow from a distance the entire night. Aside from ensuring her safety in the safest place she could be, he craved to be within her presence as it still hadn’t processed completely that he imprinted. His wolf couldn’t wait to show how much he loved Diamond and couldn’t wait to be loved by her. 

        Diamond finally grew tired and decided to crash in the tent shared with Kimi and Tayen. Seth propped a beach pillow beneath his head after settling on the side of the tent, unable to leave Diamond alone. The cold didn’t faze him and passed the time scrolling through pictures of Simone’s apartment complex through the site. 

        His sharp hearing couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. Constant giggling and whispers of random phrases with little to no context. Things he couldn’t make sense of. Either they were drunk, texting each other, or that was their usual friendship dynamic. 

        Seth tried to stay up even as exhaustion hung heavy but failed and ultimately dozed off. 

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read more at :

-> SAY Masterlist (everything you need to know about this fic and what it contains, especially important A/N)

-> SAY Chapter Masterlist (easy access to all chapters posted here)

-> Ao3 (if you prefer to read this fic there. It’s cross-posted)

— T A G L I S T —

(Comment if you’d like to be added or if I forgot you)

@queenofviolenceandnerds @dariequeen @mtcloudsworld @yoshiluvs @hrtfem

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 11

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

( reader note, shere is still sick asf so me her friend is trying to post the stuff she had pre written.)

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21@dylsw@ria-s-writes@sleepymothafterhours@sukunasstomachtongue@cosmic-lovr@imm0rtalbutterfly@kyo-kyo1 @choppersworlds-blog

if you wanna be added to the tag list comment

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Previous

I drifted back to my room, the buzz of satisfaction quickly giving way to the familiar emptiness. The high was fading, and with it came the weight I’d been trying to avoid. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, staring blankly at the sterile white walls.

Sliding down to the floor, I let out a low chuckle that held no humor. 

Satisfied but empty,

 I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. It was becoming a cycle—filling myself with distractions only to feel worse once the moment was gone.

As I sat there, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Y/N. I could see her face in my mind, that mixture of hurt and anger when she found out about the first time I cheated.

Her voice rang in my ears like it was yesterday.

“Was I not enough for you?” she had asked, her eyes red and swollen.

I’d been too much of a coward to answer her then, and now, even in my thoughts, I had no good answer. She was always enough. It was me who wasn’t.

I closed my eyes, the guilt creeping in like a slow tide. It wasn’t just the act of cheating—it was the way I’d slowly chipped away at what we had. I thought about the nights she’d stayed up waiting for me to come home, the arguments I started just to avoid my own feelings, the promises I’d broken.

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake off the memories, but they clung to me like a second skin. I could hear her voice again, softer this time, as if she was right next to me.

“I gave you everything, Sukuna. Why wasn’t that enough?”

I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening. “Guess I’ve got something to talk about in therapy tomorrow,” I muttered under my breath, though I didn’t believe it.

The thought of actually bringing it up felt impossible. What would I even say? That I destroyed the best thing in my life because I couldn’t handle my own shit? That I let my fear of being vulnerable push her away?

I shook my head, standing up and pacing the room. Therapy was supposed to help, but every session felt like peeling off another layer of skin, exposing parts of myself I didn’t want anyone to see.

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed, my voice echoing in the small room. “Like talking about Y/N is gonna fix anything.”

But even as I said it, I knew I needed to. If I ever wanted to stop feeling like this—this constant pit in my stomach, this ache in my chest—I had to face it. Even if it hurt like hell.

I got up off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands, the silence in the room louder than anything I’d heard in days. My thoughts raced, darting between the past and the present. The weight of everything I’d done, of every choice I’d made, pressed down on me like a lead blanket.

I knew I couldn’t keep running from it. Not from her, not from what I’d done, and certainly not from myself.

The next morning, I dragged myself into therapy, feeling raw and restless. Mrs. Henry greeted me with her usual calm demeanor, but I could see the concern flicker in her eyes. She gestured for me to sit, and I did, slumping into the chair like it was the only thing holding me upright.

“Good morning, Sukuna,” she started, her voice soft but steady. “How are you feeling today?”

I almost laughed at the question. How was I feeling? Like shit. Like every corner of my life was caving in. But instead, I just shrugged. “Same as always.”

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. “Yesterday, we talked about your brothers and your grandfather. Do you want to continue with that?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Not today.”

Mrs. Henry nodded, not pushing, but her gaze didn’t waver. “Alright. Then what’s on your mind?”

I hesitated, the words sitting heavy on my tongue. I could feel my palms start to sweat, and I rubbed them against my jeans. “There’s… someone I should’ve treated better,” I finally said, my voice low.

She tilted her head, her expression encouraging me to go on.

“Y/N,” I said, the name almost foreign in my mouth after all this time. “She’s—she was my girlfriend. Probably the only good thing I had going for me.”

“What happened?” she asked gently.

I clenched my jaw, the guilt rising in my chest like bile. “I cheated on her. More than once.”

The room was quiet, the weight of my confession settling between us.

“Why do you think you did that?” she asked after a moment.

I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I don’t know. Maybe because I didn’t think I deserved her. Or because I was scared—scared she’d leave first, scared she’d see me for who I really am and realize I wasn’t worth it.”

“And how do you feel about it now?”

“Like I’m a piece of shit,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “Like I threw away the one person who actually gave a damn about me.”

Mrs. Henry nodded, letting the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again. “It sounds like there’s a lot of pain tied to that relationship, Sukuna. But also a lot of regret. Do you think you’d want to reach out to her someday?”

I froze at the question, my chest tightening. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “the first step is forgiving yourself. You can’t change the past, but you can work on becoming the person you’d want her—or anyone else—to see.”

I let her words sink in, the truth of them both comforting and terrifying. Forgiving myself felt impossible, but maybe—just maybe—it was something I could work toward. If not for me, then for the people I’d hurt along the way.

“ She only knows about one time, not the others, I mean I stopped at one point when the drugs were better than the sex…” my eyes widened with my admission. 

It was the first time I think I admitted that out loud.

Mrs. Henry’s expression didn’t change much, but I could see her eyes narrow slightly, her pen hovering over her notepad as if she wasn’t sure whether to write that down or not.

“You stopped… when the drugs became better than the sex,” she repeated slowly, her tone careful, like she didn’t want to spook me.

I nodded, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. My knuckles were white, and I could feel the tension in my jaw. “Yeah. I mean, what was the point? Sex didn’t do it for me anymore. Not like…” I trailed off, unable to bring myself to say it again.

She didn’t push, just let the silence settle before speaking. “It sounds like you’ve been carrying this for a long time, Sukuna. That’s a lot of weight for one person to bear.”

“I deserve it,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Why do you think that?” she asked gently.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Because I’m a screw-up. I ruin everything I touch. I ruined us. I ruined her.”

Mrs. Henry sat back, her pen tapping lightly against her notepad. “You said earlier that Y/N only knew about one time. Why didn’t you tell her about the others?”

My chest tightened, and I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “What good would it have done? She already hated me for that one. Telling her about the rest would’ve just been twisting the knife.”

“Or maybe you were afraid of losing her,” she said, her tone neutral.

I flinched, the truth of her words hitting me harder than I wanted to admit. “Maybe,” I said quietly.

“You said you stopped when the drugs became better than the sex,” she continued, her voice steady. “Do you think that was because of how you felt about her? Or because of how you felt about yourself?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t know how to answer it. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was neither.

Maybe I’m just a fuck up

“I don’t know,” I admitted finally, my voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t want to feel anything anymore. The drugs made it easier to forget. To pretend like none of it mattered.”

“But it does matter,” Mrs. Henry said, her voice soft but firm. “That’s why you’re here. You can’t keep running from this, Sukuna. At some point, you have to face it.”

I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, easier said than done.”

“It is,” she agreed. “But it’s not impossible. And it’s not something you have to do alone.”

I didn’t respond, just stared at the floor, the weight of her words pressing down on me. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to stop running. But the thought of facing everything I’d buried—the guilt, the shame, the pain—felt like trying to climb a mountain with no end in sight.

 I wasn’t sure I had the strength to take even the first step.

I sighed 

"Part of me wants to do better but another part of me refuses to. Life was so bright when Jin was alive. Yuuji reminds me of him sometimes. Maybe that's why I hate to be around him. It's too much. I dont hate Yuuji.I just."

 I stared at the floor.

Mrs. Henry leaned forward slightly, her voice soft but probing. “You just… what, Sukuna?”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I struggled to find the words. “I just can’t. Being around him feels like being dragged back to the night Jin died. I can’t stop thinking about what I should’ve done. How I should’ve been there. How maybe… maybe it should’ve been me.”

The last part came out in a whisper, and my throat felt tight, like I’d swallowed broken glass.

She nodded slowly, giving me space to continue. “You feel like you failed him,” she said gently.

“I did fail him,” I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it. “I wasn’t there. I was supposed to look out for him, and I bailed. And now he’s gone, and I’m still here, screwing everything up like always.”

“You’re carrying a lot of guilt,” she observed, her tone calm despite my outburst. “But blaming yourself for Jin’s death doesn’t honor him, Sukuna. It keeps you stuck.”

“Honor him?” I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “What does that even mean? He’s gone. Nothing I do now is going to change that.”

“No, it won’t,” she agreed. “But maybe instead of punishing yourself for what you couldn’t control, you could focus on what Jin would’ve wanted for you. For Yuuji. For Choso. Do you think he’d want you to hate yourself like this? To push away the people who care about you?”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I felt my defenses crumbling. “I don’t know,” I muttered, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know what he’d want. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Mrs. Henry was quiet for a moment, letting my words hang in the air. “It’s okay not to have all the answers right now,” she said finally. “But it’s not okay to keep burying everything and pretending it doesn’t matter. Jin mattered. You matter. And the people in your life who are still here—they matter too.”

I stared at the floor, my chest heavy with emotions I didn’t know how to process. Part of me wanted to believe her, to believe that I wasn’t beyond saving. But another part of me, the part that had been running from the pain for so long, wasn’t sure if I even deserve to be saved.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Any of it.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” Mrs. Henry said. “Just take it one step at a time. Start with being honest—with yourself, with the people you care about. That’s the first step.”

Her words echoed in my head long after the session ended, and I found myself back in my room, staring at the ceiling. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to stop running. But taking that first step felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure if the ground beneath me would hold.

For the first time in a long time, though, I thought about trying.

I laughed a bit and admitted " I was forced to be here by my friends. To them I have a serious drug problem and to me I don't." 

Mrs Henry looked at the file on her desk and asked me 

"Satoru Gojo right, that's the friend who paid your bills and Toji Zenin is your emergency contact right." I didn't respond, She flipped through again and said

 "Do you know why you were warded in the hospital twice.?"

I leaned back in the chair, my arms crossed defensively. “Yeah, I know,” I said curtly. “But I already told everyone it’s not that serious. I didn’t ask to be here.”

Mrs. Henry didn’t look fazed. She kept her calm, professional demeanor as she glanced down at the file again. “So, you overdosed twice in two close to three weeks, and you think that’s not serious?”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “It’s not like I planned it, okay? Things just… got out of hand. But I’m not some junkie.”

She looked up from the file and gave me a long, measured look. “You don’t think you have a problem?”

“Nope,” I said flatly, though my voice sounded less convincing than I’d hoped.

She leaned forward, her expression serious. “Do you know how many times Satoru Gojo called this facility to check on you in just the last week?”

I frowned but said nothing.

“Seven times,” she said. “And Toji Zenin? He’s called four times. These are people who care about you, Sukuna. They’re worried about you because they’ve seen what’s happening, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re overreacting. They always do.”

She closed the file and set it aside, her focus entirely on me. “Overreacting?” she repeated. “You passed out on the floor of a friend’s house and the first time you passed out on the floor of your own bedroom Sukuna.. If they hadn’t intervened, you might not be sitting here right now.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I masked it with another scoff. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? So, I guess they can stop worrying.”

Mrs. Henry tilted her head, studying me carefully. “You’re here physically, sure. But mentally and emotionally? You’re checked out. And until you’re ready to face that, nothing is going to change.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, avoiding her gaze. “Whatever,” I muttered.

She sighed but didn’t press further. “You’re not alone in this, Sukuna. Whether you believe it or not, there are people who want to help you. But you have to let them.”

I stayed silent, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. Part of me wanted to keep brushing her off, but another part—the part I kept buried deep down—was starting to wonder if she was right.

“I don't care about my life.” 

SHUT UP SUKUNA!

“I don't think there was a moment I ever did. Not with yn was my girlfriend, not hanging with my friends, maybe when Jin was alive but I guess I have my parents to thank for that. They fucked off and left us all to live with Grandpa, Yuuji was still a baby then.”

Mrs. Henry didn’t say anything right away. She just let the words hang in the air, giving me space to breathe. I couldn’t meet her gaze, so I kept my eyes on the floor, tracing the cracks in the linoleum with my thoughts.

“They left us with Grandpa, and he did his best,” I continued, my voice hollow. “He was a good man, better than they ever were. But even with him, I always felt… off, like I didn’t belong anywhere. Like I was just some extra piece everyone had to deal with.”

“And Jin?” she asked gently.

I swallowed hard. “He was the only one who made it bearable. He made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so messed up after all. Like I could actually be someone.”

Mrs. Henry nodded but didn’t interrupt.

“But then he died,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “And that was it. Whatever light there was just… went out. And now I’m stuck here, trying to pretend I give a damn about anything when I really don’t.”

She leaned forward slightly, her tone steady but soft. “You said you don’t care about your life, but you cared about Jin’s, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” I snapped, glaring at her. “He was my twin brother.”

“And Yuuji? Choso? Your friends?” she pressed.

I hesitated, clenching my jaw. “Yeah… I care about them. But that doesn’t mean I know how to show it. All I do is screw things up.”

Mrs. Henry folded her hands in her lap. “You say you don’t care about your life, Sukuna, but the people in it do. Your grandpa did. Jin did. And now Yuuji, Choso, Satoru, and Toji—they all care. They’re still here, even when you push them away.”

I looked away, my chest tightening. “Maybe they shouldn’t be. Maybe it’d be easier for everyone if I wasn’t around.”

“No,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through my haze of self-loathing. “It wouldn’t. You think you’re a burden, but to them, you’re family. And family doesn’t just give up on each other.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. I just sat there, staring at the floor, trying to keep the guilt and pain from swallowing me whole.

“You want to know why I cheated on YN so much even though she didn't deserve it. I just wanted her to go.. I mean i didnt...I never wanted to hurt her but she was too close....too close to who I am, the person” I paused “the person i try to hide.”

Mrs. Henry let the silence linger, her gaze steady but nonjudgmental. She didn’t press me, didn’t try to fill the space with words. It was like she knew I needed to say this, even if it ripped me open in the process.

“She saw everything,” I muttered finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Every broken piece. Every damn thing I try to bury. And I hated it. I hated how much I needed her. How much she believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. It was suffocating.”

I clenched my fists, staring at the floor as if it held all the answers. “So I ruined it. I ruined us. Because if she left, it’d hurt less than having her stay and seeing me for what I really am. A mess. A screw-up. A guy who can’t get his shit together.”

Mrs. Henry tilted her head slightly, her voice calm. “Do you think Y/N saw you that way?”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “No. That’s the problem. She thought I was better than this. She saw something in me that wasn’t real. And I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t live up to it.”

“You said she was too close to who you really are,” Mrs. Henry said carefully. “What do you mean by that?”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “She saw me. Not the front I put up, not the tough guy everyone else sees. She saw the kid who got left behind. The kid who’s terrified of losing everyone he loves. And I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle being seen like that.”

My voice broke, and I gritted my teeth, trying to hold myself together. “So I pushed her away. Over and over again. Because if she left, it’d be on my terms. Not hers.”

Mrs. Henry leaned back slightly, her expression soft. “You sabotaged your happiness because you didn’t think you deserved it. Is that it?”

I nodded, feeling the weight of the truth settle over me. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

She let out a small sigh, her tone gentle. “Sukuna, it sounds like you’ve spent so much time trying to protect yourself from being hurt that you’ve ended up hurting the people who care about you the most. Including yourself.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Because deep down,

 I knew she was right.  I fucking hate this therapy shit

“I didn't ask them to care. I don't want them too. I just want them to stop”

Mrs. Henry nodded, her expression calm but firm. “I understand why you feel that way, Sukuna. When you’re carrying this much pain, it can feel like people’s concern is just another weight on your shoulders. But shutting people out doesn’t make the pain go away. It just isolates you.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Isolation’s fine by me. At least then I don’t have to deal with anyone’s expectations or pity.”

Her gaze stayed steady, unshaken by my words. “You say you don’t want them to care, but is that really true? Or are you afraid of what caring could mean? That it could bring more hurt, more loss?”

My jaw tightened, and I looked away, unwilling to answer. She didn’t need me to.

“You’ve lost a lot, Sukuna. More than most people your age should have to. But the people who care about you—they’re not your enemies. They’re not trying to hurt you or control you. They’re trying to remind you that you don’t have to face all of this alone.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Alone’s all I’ve ever been. Even when Jin was around, even when Y/N was here, I’ve always felt alone. Like no one really gets it. Like no one could even if they tried.”

Mrs. Henry’s voice softened. “Feeling alone and being alone are two very different things. You’re not alone, Sukuna. You have people who love you, who want to see you get better. But you have to let them in.”

“I can’t,” I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “Don’t you get it? I can’t let them in because if I do, I’ll screw it up. I’ll hurt them like I hurt Y/N, like I hurt everyone.”

Silence stretched between us for a moment, the air heavy with the weight of my admission.

Mrs. Henry leaned forward slightly, her tone steady. “You’ve made mistakes, Sukuna. Big ones. But mistakes don’t define who you are—they define who you’ve been. Who you are is still up to you.”

I stared at her, my mind racing but unable to form a response. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to say.

I got up from the chair and paced the room trying to calm my racing thoughts. 

“Everyone keeps saying i made mistakes, I did everything on purpose, the cheating, the fuck ups none of it were mistakes I'm not a saint or a good person. That person was buried at Jin's funeral. 

That person got beat on when my father showed up to Jin's funeral wake to blame me for his death and beat me to a frazzle while my mom watched. that person is dead. I'm what's left.”

Mrs. Henry sat back in her chair, studying me with a calm, measured gaze. She didn't flinch or try to counter my words immediately, which somehow made me feel even more exposed.

"You’re right," she said after a moment, her voice steady. "You’re not a saint, and you’re not perfect. No one is. But you’re not dead either, Sukuna. If you were, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation. The fact that you’re still here, still breathing, still feeling all this pain—it means there’s something left of you worth fighting for."

I barked out a bitter laugh. "You’re wrong. The only thing left of me is anger and regret. That’s all I am now—a walking mess of mistakes and bad decisions."

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "You said you’re not a good person. Okay. But what if I told you being a good person isn’t about never messing up? It’s about what you do after. It’s about facing your pain, taking responsibility, and deciding who you want to be from here on out."

I shook my head, my chest tightening. "I don’t want to be anything. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to feel this."

"Of course you don’t," she said softly. "Pain like this, guilt like this—it’s unbearable. But running from it doesn’t make it go away. It just makes it louder. And I think deep down, you know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, in this room, talking to me."

I clenched my fists, anger and something else—something softer, something I didn’t want to name—burning in my chest. "I didn’t choose to be here. Gojo and the others dumped me in this hellhole."

She nodded. "They did. Because they see something in you that you can’t see in yourself right now. They see someone who’s worth saving, someone who’s more than the pain they’re carrying. And whether you believe them or not, Sukuna, you’re here. So why not take this time to figure out who you want to be? Not for Gojo, or Toji, or Yuuji. For yourself."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and piercing. I wanted to argue, to push back, but I couldn’t. Instead, I just sat there, staring at the floor, my mind racing with thoughts I didn’t want to face.

"Think about it," she said gently, breaking the silence. "I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. But if you’re willing to try, even just a little, you might find that the person you thought was gone is still there. They’re just waiting for you to give them a chance."

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. But for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t immediately shut down the possibility that she might be right.

“Thanks for Session Mrs Henry.” I said bolting out of the room before my session was over. 

I couldnt bare anything else today.

 I saw one of the nurses saying i have visitors. I wanted to decline but i decided to go with the flow. I saw it was Gojo and Geto.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at them as they both sat in the chairs in front of me, their eyes locked on me with that familiar mix of concern and frustration. The tension between us was thicker than ever, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

Gojo stood first, breaking the silence with his usual smug grin, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes today. "Look at you, the prodigal son returns," he said, but there was no humor in it, just weariness. "Thought you’d be avoiding us for a little longer."

Geto was quieter, his gaze unreadable, but I could feel the weight of his disappointment in the air. He leaned forward slightly, crossing his arms. "You could’ve told us how bad it had gotten, you know. We would've come sooner."

I just looked at them. No words came to mind at first. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to say anything. What was the point? Nothing I said would change what I had done. Nothing would fix the mess I’d made of everything.

I let out a frustrated sigh and took a seat across from them, leaning back in my chair. "I didn’t ask for any of this. You guys don’t get it. I didn’t ask for help, and I’m still not ready to accept it."

Gojo's expression faltered for a moment, and Geto sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "You think we don’t understand?" Geto said softly, his voice tinged with frustration. "You think this is easy for us? Watching you fall apart like this?"

I didn’t look at either of them, my hands tightening into fists in my lap. "You’re right," I muttered bitterly. "I don’t think you understand, because you’re not in my head. You don’t know what it feels like to be... this. To feel like everything’s my fault. To not care about anything anymore."

Gojo stepped forward, his voice more serious than I had ever heard it. "Maybe we don’t understand everything you’re going through, but we know you. We know who you were before all this. And we’re not giving up on you just because you’ve decided to run from yourself."

I met Gojo’s eyes, and for a split second, I saw the pain he was trying to hide behind his usual confident mask. "I never asked you to," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "But that doesn’t change anything."

Geto leaned forward now, his voice softer but still carrying that urgency I had come to recognize in him. "Sukuna, you’re not alone in this. You’ve never been alone. I’m not going to pretend like I have the answers, but you have us. Don’t shut us out."

I looked away again, my throat tight, and for a brief moment, I could feel the tears threatening to break free. But I refused to let them show. Not now. Not in front of them.

"You don’t have to do this alone," Gojo said quietly, his usual bravado softened, if only slightly. "We’re here, whether you want us here or not."

The words hit harder than I expected, and I had to force myself to swallow back the emotion rising in my chest. I wanted to push them away, to tell them to leave, but the truth was… I didn’t know how to. I didn’t know how to do this alone.

"Just... give me some time," I muttered, finally meeting their gazes. "I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what I’m doing."

Gojo nodded, his tone softer than before. "We’re not asking you to have it all figured out. We’re just asking you to keep trying."

There was a heavy silence between us then, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel completely suffocated by it. It wasn’t a solution. It wasn’t a fix. But maybe… maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.

"I’m not giving up on you, man," Geto said, his voice firm but caring. "And neither is Gojo."

I nodded slowly, my chest tight, but something in me shifted—just slightly. It didn’t feel like enough, but maybe it was a start.

Maybe it was enough for now.