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thewertsearch · 15 hours

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Ask Comp 13/05

@garnetduodecim asked: I always assumed jack spent the first 4 hours in the troll session, before destroying prospit, destroying Aradiabots, there were A LOT of them.

Maybe one of the Aradiabots got in a lucky shot, and was able to tag him with a weaker, non-God Tier variant of her freeze ability. That'd certainly at least delay him.

@morganwick asked: So, you were talking about Aradia "injuring" Vriska (post/704357246751113217) and comparing Vriska to a fairy godmother character (post/722100305374986240)?

@manorinthewoods asked: Serendipity Gospels is by Tamsyn Muir??? Really? Um, that's… hoo. That was one of the fanfics that I didn't end up liking. Might need to revisit that. Side note: 'Doc Scratch's School for Supernaturally Gifted Adolescents' feels more like something Locked Tomb-esque to me. So that's really… ah. ~LOSS (3/5/24)

I do wonder how similar the Gospels are to TLT's writing style.

Actually, can anyone confirm at what point the fic will be safe to read? I could just wait until I'm reading panels from after its publication date, but if I can check it out before, I will.

@abysswarlock asked: Ooh I’ve had this hypothesis for a while now but you just said something that made me lock in my guess that your classpect is Prince of Doom

The classpect wheel continues to turn!

I'm married to Doom for at least one of my 'sonas, but my Class is still up in the air, since we know even less about them than aspects.

@manorinthewoods asked: As a sort of Part 2 to that sylladex comment - how do you think the Sylladex works? Do you think that Homestuck will go into more detail about Sylladices, or do you think they'll fade into the background as different aspects of the magic system come to the fore? ~LOSS (24/4/24)

I think the latter is a lot more likely. Most aspects (lol) of Homestuck's magic system are there to serve the story first and foremost. As much as I'd love the comic to turn into a treatise on Sburb deeplore, it really doesn't feel like something Hussie would be interested in doing.

The story won't really suffer without, say, a detailed explanation of every facet of alchemy - I just really like speculating, because I'm all about shit like that.

@heliotropopause asked: What are your thoughts on Homestuck's translation convention(s)? As an example, take page 2251, line "Arrivederci, Megido.": Is she writing in something close enough to Earth English to scan as such to the reader, no translation necessary? Is Vriska saying a word in Troll Italian, which gets translated to Earth Italian? Is she expressing a sentiment in her usual language that's best translated as the word "arrivederci" as it's used in English? Has Doc Scratch secretly been translating all cross-species communication we've seen so far?

Vriska's arrivederci seems diegetic to me. If we inherited English from Alternia, it makes sense that some of our other languages might come from there too.

tl;dr: Troll Italy is real 🇮🇹

Anonymous asked: im not one to dip my toes into The Vriscourse but this one piece of analysis i really liked is that vriska is jealous of tavros, that hes had a much easier life compared to her and that hes allowed to be more of a wimp while she has to be the toughest fuck alive or else shell die

It's only one piece of the Vriska-Tavros puzzle, but it's an important one. She'll refuse to acknowledge it to the end, though, because the idea of being jealous of Tavros is disgusting to her.

@obscureaeguran asked: Are there any current theories of yours that you want to be wrong about?

Confident as I am in my Vriska death theory, I don't actually want to be right.

I really like Vriska's character, and I want to see her grow past the worldview that's preventing her from finding peace. I just don't think that's likely, given her current trajectory.

Anonymous asked: 'In what universe are 13-year-olds the people most qualified to make universes?' well per the beta version of homestuck (when hussie wanted to make the whole thing in flash before deciding against it) they were all going to be 10 instead, i think this is the much better option!

How young can we go, anyway?

AU where the Homestuck Babies aren't sent to Earth at all, and just start playing immediately.

@manorinthewoods asked: Have you played Deltarune? ~LOSS (9/4/24)

I have! I was actually replaying it on day one of the liveblog - hence the several references I made to it at the time. That feels forever ago, now.

@bladekindeyewear asked: Jade changed pretty drastically as a person after her dreamself died, if you think about it— demanding Feferi stop using her quirk in chat, standing up to the trolls for the first time, getting angry, to such an extent that Karkat was so surprised that it turned his opinion of her around completely in a single conversation. Even forcing a password system to keep talks linear instead of using cloud visions to do everything out of order. This doesn’t just feel to me like dream Jade being a “different individual”, it also feels like a metaphorical confrontation between her NEW self and her OLD self…

I think it's both.

Jade's been through a lot in the last couple of hours, and she really isn't the same girl who died on Prospit.

Being an oracle of Skaia's visions led to disaster. They showed her that John's Dream Self would awaken, leading her to believe she was finally going to meet him, but neglected to mention that she'd die the moment he opened his eyes - or that Prospit would die alongside her.

As a result, the new Jade seems to have made a decision to completely reject all prophetic information. She'll supply the minimum possible intel to her past self, and no more.

It's clear her Dream Self's death was a catalyst for a pretty dramatic shift in her worldview. She's angry - at the trolls, at herself, and at the world that betrayed her trust. She's tired of being jerked around, and her tumultuous emotions are making her rather testy. Basically, she's sick of all the bullshit, and she won't take it from anyone anymore.

Jadesprite has experienced the same catalyst, and has also come to mistrust the clouds, but for different reasons.

Jade rejects prophecies, in part, because she doesn't want to be deceived - but Jadesprite rejects them out of sheer hopelessness. She just doesn't care anymore.

They both have the same trauma, but they're dealing with it in very different ways - and at this point, I really do consider them to be different people.

And then on a metaphorical level, Jadesprite represents the 'silly', absent-minded childhood self that got Jade into this mess.

I think this taunt from Karkat hit very, very close to home for her, and I'm sure she associates the traits he described with her idyllic days on Prospit. It's part of why Dream Jade is such a perfect target for her fury.

@spyril4132 asked: i beg to differ on the entry item similarities only applying to prospit. iirc, rose shatters a bottle, and dave hatches an egg; both involve breaking open some sort of "shell", and neither are associated with a larger object, which could be seen as similar types of items. (while jade does break a piñata, she does so by shooting it, not by splitting it apart)

It's true that Rose and Dave's object's have some physical similarities, but John and Jade are both summoning the same tree, which feels like a much stronger connection.

Rose and Dave's entry cards also summoned auxiliary items, but they were different - a cabinet and bird, respectively. From where I'm sitting, the link between the two Prospit items does seem unique.

@skelekingfeddy asked: what herptiles would sally and sahlee have as their consorts? i feel like a monitor lizard would fit for one of them…maybe losas has like, turtle or tortoise consorts, what with their long-livedness and the wise sagely vibe and all.

I was thinking pretty much the same thing for Sahlee. Let's say they're Galápagos tortoises, because the Sage gives me Oogway vibes.

For Sally's Consorts, I'm going to get really funky and say they're a type of pterosaur.

@sparten4ever92 asked: The HS version of Megalovania is slept on way too much, the Vriska guitar adds so much to it that the UT version just doesn't have. @sanctferum asked: Finally, MeGaLoVania by Toby Fox (feat. Joren "Tensei" deBruin on guitar)! Would you say that Tavros had an…unpleasant chronological progression? (btw I do love the bit of Spider's Claw that plays during the Vriska segment, which is (obviously) unique to this Megalovania) also, the audiovisual style of homestuck flashes is just really cool imo @mimescantscream asked: You have no idea how long we've waited for the Megalovania

This version of Megalovania was a great choice for Aradia's finest hour - or at least, her finest hour so far.

It's moments like this which are why I decided to stop listening to the albums in advance. If I hadn't first heard Aradia's Megalovania in this flash, it wouldn't have hit the way it did.

@elkian asked: MEGALOVANIA TIME BAYBEEEE! Also, let's go back to that theory you had about Aradia getting more alive, because you NAILED it. @iris-in-the-dark-world asked: i am so excited to see aradia again and finally as herself :33<

She's fucking BACK, baby!

Seeing Aradia smiling for real after all this time is genuinely heartwarming - and with her time-stop attack, she's almost unkillable. It'd take some absolute nonsense to take Aradia out of the picture again, and I think she'll be sticking around for a long time. Hopefully forever.

@grippingtraverse asked: notice any similarities during megalovania between aradia vs. jack & sans vs. player? 0u0

The best I can come up with is that Aradia and Frisk are both time travelers whose signature color is red.

Or maybe Jack is the Frisk analogue, since he's the one wiping out all life in the session, and Aradia is the last foe he faces.

@captorations asked: please consider, with this new information about aradia, what it could mean for her literary descendant dulcie septimus. please also keep considering this as you continue and see more of aradia. i am very normal about both of these characters

Ooh, they do have similar vibes, don't they? They're both doomed, they're strongly associated with death, and they both have a cheerful side that comes out when you don't expect it to.

@duorogue asked: "You have to give Nepeta some credit. The literal first thing she did after this traumatic murder was log into Trollian and report on Jack’s activities." To be fair to her, when I have a bad nightmare the first thing I do is log onto discord

nepeta hopping on mic at 2am to complain about the hat man (the hat man is doc scratch)

@absinthe-and-alabaster asked: when the writ keeper was introduced as fifth exile you mentioned that it was a little fucked up how the king was the only prospitian that was preserved - i just wanted to remind you that no, he wasn't ! on page 1974 we see all the other prospitians that were exiled with the white queen on her ship (including ms paint!) WQ just left them to go wander the desert

I'd actually forgotten about that. So much happened during the Act 4 ending that it completely slipped my mind. I even missed Ms. Paint!

Anonymous asked: Hey, as you noticed, the Dave Coin Split is a plot hole. We've never seen the timeline split because of someone's choice before. Compare to John flying to the seventh gate, there weren't two timelines based on his choice, the timeline only changed because Dave came back from the original timeline and changed it. And of course, like you said in the tags, Terezi shouldn't have been able to communicate with Doomed Dave, including to tell him the result of the FL1P. Have you noticed any other plot holes or things that don't seem to make sense?

While I see what you're saying, it might not necessarily be a plot hole! Certainly the Dave Coin Timeline was created in a different manner to Davesprite's - but that might just mean there are multiple ways to split a timeline, or that there are certain requirements that must be fulfilled for a decision to spawn one.

Because of things like that, it's hard to tell whether something's actually a plot hole, or if it'll eventually make sense in light of later reveals.

This is particularly true for aspects of the plot involving time travel, like the one you just described. Like, remember before I learned about Doomed Timelines, when I thought Davesprite broke Homestuck's predestination rules?

Anonymous asked: You said "God Tiering is just another way to inhabit your Dream Self," so do you think the things that Dream Selves can do (such as Jade growing extra arms) can be done by God Tiers?

I never really thought about that!

I think it's definitely possible. God Tier bodies can fly the same way that Dream Selves can, so other powers might transfer, too. Maybe the only reason Vriska, Aradia and John aren't shapeshifters is because Jade hasn't taught them to how to dream up extra limbs.

She might be one of the only Dream Selves who've learned how to shapeshift this fluidly. Logging thousands of hours on Prospit has its perks!

#asks #full liveblog #act 5.2 #homestucksona

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hippolotamus · 2 days

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Inspiration Saturday 🪩

Tagged by the delightful @thekristen999 @daffi-990 @lemonzestywrites @bidisasterevankinard @wikiangela

@theotherbuckley for Fuck it Friday. Thank you darlin’s (tagging you back for today) mwah! 💖

Made a lil moodboard for today's snippet. I'm not in love with all the words but that's what editing is for. So, here's Buck visiting Eddie's workplace for the first time. Surprise (because I don't think I've mentioned this before???) Eddie's not a firefighter in this either. He's a mechanic who works with a bunch of homophobic jerks. But also with Hen! Buck knows Eddie isn't out to most people so this is an... enlightening moment for him. Some of it's under the cut to save your dash. masterlist of posts here and no I'm not writing this remotely in order

“Oh, thank fuck,” he mumbles to himself when he pulls the door open and is greeted with a cool blast of air conditioning.

Looking around the interior, he thinks it could pass for a museum. A snapshot in time, forever preserved exactly as it was. Gold framed articles about the 1973 grand re-opening hang on the wood-paneled walls alongside prints of hot rods and muscle cars. There are vintage metal signs mixed in for Shell, Texaco, Gulf, and some other brands he’s never heard of.

“Do you have an appointment?” A gravelly voice asks from behind him.

Buck jerks around to the desk where a middle aged woman with auburn hair and green gray eyes glares at him with a mix of boredom and curiosity. Or maybe suspicion? He can't quite tell.

Her bronzed skin is littered with freckles and screams that she’s spent too much time outside with no sunscreen or other protection. A name plate, half hidden under papers and key rings, identifies her as Estelle. He’s heard a few stories about her from Eddie, but he’s not sure any of them did her intimidating demeanor justice.

“Uh, no?” He answers, not sure why it comes out as a question other than he’s not entirely convinced the five foot something couldn’t somehow manage to hurt him.

It must take every ounce of strength to conceal the whole body sigh she wants to make as she looks down, licks her fingertip and begins flipping through a giant paper scheduling book. “If you don’t have an appointment I can maybe get you in next Thursday. Depending on what you need.”

“Actually, uh, I don’t need anything.” Estelle glances up, mouth slightly parted and eyes narrowed as if she’s about to ask what he’s doing standing in her lobby. He quickly adds, “Well, what I mean is, my car doesn’t need anything. I’m here to see Eddie? Uh, Eddie Diaz.”

She nods with something like understanding. At least he hopes that’s what it is as she picks up the phone receiver and punches in a few numbers.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hey, is Diaz around? Someone here asking about him.”

“No, it’s not the cops! What’s the matter with you? I don’t know. Just some guy here looking for Eddie.”

Estelle huffs an exasperated sigh and looks toward the ceiling like it’ll give her strength. “Jay, I don’t have time for twenty questions and, quite frankly, I don’t care.”

“About time you quit screwin’ around. Send him out.” She hangs up the receiver and mutters something about not caring that he’s a relative.

“He’ll be a few minutes. Take a seat.” She gestures to a line of metal chairs with sticky looking vinyl cushions without so much as glancing in Buck’s direction.

He momentarily gets excited when he spots a gumball machine in the corner until he realizes it would require actual coins that he definitely doesn’t have. And he’s not about to ask Estelle if she’s got change for a twenty just so he can satisfy his sweet tooth.

“Buck?” Eddie appears from a side door, wiping his hands on a rag. His hair is sweaty and mussed, likely from pushing it out of his face. His gorgeous, kissable face that Buck very much wants to kiss even more right now despite the streaks and smudges of god knows what decorating it. The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches like he knows what Buck is thinking, but he clears his throat and schools it just as quickly when Estelle grunts, reminding them they’re at his workplace.

“Uh, Buck. Hi. What can I do for you?” Eddie tilts his chin in the direction of the parking lot. “Everything okay with the jeep?”

“Hi,” Buck answers, a little too breathy for their current situation. He can’t seem to help himself. Eddie’s always cleaned up when they meet, whether it’s at the club, a date out somewhere or an evening in. He’s never seen him marked up from his job, in his grimy army green coveralls.

“Uh, yeah. Jeep’s fine. Just, you know, was nearby and thought I’d stop in.” Buck tracks the movement as Eddie’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips, before sneaking him a flirty, amused smirk.

“Glad you did.” Eddie chances a look at Estelle who still has her head down, shuffling some papers that probably don’t need it. He takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “I haven’t taken my lunch yet. Give me five and we can get out of here?”

Buck nods, not knowing how to respond without giving anything away.

Eddie puts more distance between them again, sticking his hand out. Buck takes it, thrown by the familiarity of his boyfriend mixed with the very conventional, socially acceptable handshake. “Great to see you again, Buck. Check that place on Viscount Boulevard. I think you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Buck answers, reluctantly letting their palms slide apart. But he gets it. Eddie’s coworkers are all a bunch of ignorant, homophobic assholes. Well, except for Hen apparently. Regardless, Eddie can’t be risking his job and livelihood when he has Chris to think about. “I’ll go check it out. You said it’s about... ten minutes from here?”

“About that, yeah. Maybe fifteen.”

A warm, fluttering feeling washes over him as Eddie winks and smiles, seeming pleased that Buck caught on to his little game. He has to force himself to turn around and leave instead of watching his boyfriend walk away.

“Have a nice day,” Estelle says as he opens the door, setting off a chime. It’s enough to snap him out of his haze, offering a weak ‘you too’ as he hurries back to his jeep.

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @tizniz

@mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie @weewootruck @saybiwithme @shipperqueen6

@ramonaflow @taketheplanspinitsideways @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @stereopticons

@kitteneddiediaz @mrs-f-darcy @drowsy-quill @your-catfish-friend @filet-o-feelings

@underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @queenmabcreates

@inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @queerbuckleys

@bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @ladydorian05 @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

#more under the cut because… long #since i'm pissed at eddie rn #i wanted to write the angst #but then my brain wouldn't let me before i set a few things up #blargh #just for kicks i imagine Estelle sounds like Roz from monsters inc #hippo writes #buddie wip #inspiration saturday #fic: watch my shattered edges glisten #mechanic!eddie

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yarrayora · 2 days

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I think it's valid to like a ship however you wanna like it but i genuinely get the impression you don't really like farcille at all. And if that is the case would you please stop tagging posts as farcille just to be negative about it?

that's where youre wrong

i actually enjoy farcille! it was originally mehtp for me but after i figured out that i do enjoy making them struggle with their relationship before they actually figure out how to love each other as equals i like them as otp

if you don't believe me, you can check my blogs for my other ships outside of dunmeshi: dazatsu from bsd where atsushi's patience runs thin everytime dazai tries to push him away, odazai also from bsd where i depict dazai as someone who falls in love with the idealized version of odasaku, not the real him, which explains why i love the idea of marcille idealizing falin, right?

i understand my taste is niche, people generally dont want to see their otp going through relationship problems stemming from not being able to communicate well with each other, but i'm not being negative about my own otp just because i want them to experience angst that stems from canon worldbuilding, i'm exploring how their relationship can survive even with their differences

so as spoiler for the ending im planning for my comic: kabru tells falin it's no good to decide whether she should continue her relationship with marcille or not at this point where she's still confused about her feelings. so he suggests falin should go on her travel around the world to see how she would feel when she's away from marcille. "marcille can be overbearing because she experienced almost losing you. i'm not saying what she's doing is right, of course, but i am saying that you'll have an easier time deciding whether you truly love her or not if you know how it feels like to be without her."

and in the end, falin realizes she wants to be with marcille, but she wants to start over first as friends, to get to know each other as proper equals, instead of a senior who took her of her junior, instead of a distressed savior and her damsel. "i don't want to lose you, marcille"

there lol is that enough to convince you i actually care about the ship

#dungeon meshi #farcille

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magicshopaholic · 1 day

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Drowning (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: You give Namjoon a piece of your mind and you both discover your feelings have gone nowhere.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, hint of fluff

Word count: 9.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, insinuations of sex

A/N: As requested, including appearances by Taehyung and Dilara. Takes place two weeks after A Day in the Life.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "cold/mess" by prateek kuhad

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

All it takes is a fifteen second phone call from the concierge to the penthouse suites for Kaya to be escorted upstairs.

She tries not to let her impatience show; the concierge is walking at a normal pace, all straight-backed and poised, and Kaya simply wants to tell him to hurry up.

“I can take it from here,” she says abruptly when they reach the door of the suite. “Thank you.” The concierge looks vaguely surprised at being ushered away, but nods and leaves.

Swallowing, she stares at the door. Now that she’s actually here, she doesn’t know what to do next, besides the obvious. She doesn’t know what to expect or even whom to expect - all she has is Seokjin’s text telling her to hurry over because -

Buzz.

Kaya rings the bell and waits for less than five seconds before the door swings open.

“You came!” Seokjin sounds more surprised than relieved, stepping aside to let her in.

“Where is he?” Kaya asks, striding into the suite to see only Yoongi sitting on the sofa with a laptop on his knees. She looks around the living room, possibly bigger than her entire apartment, and towards the bedrooms - but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here. She turns to Seokjin. “Well?”

“You actually called her?” Yoongi asks, sounding just the slightest bit wary.

Kaya frowns. “Wait, you didn’t know?” she asks, but Seokjin interrupts her to answer Yoongi.

“Yeah, I - I had to. I didn’t tell him, though.” He turns to Kaya. “He’s in the other suite. His suite.”

“Well -” Something is off. “Then… let’s go. Why are we - wait, what did you mean you didn’t tell him? Is he… awake?”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “He’s on a conference call with management so I hope he is,” he answers dryly.

“Okay, hold on.” Kaya bites her lip, a small part of her brain telling her she’s been tricked somehow. She fixes Seokjin with a look and is somewhat glad to see him look nervous. “You told me he collapsed. You said I should hurry and when I asked to talk to him, you said he wasn’t in a position to talk.”

Seokjin nods slowly. “Um, okay, so… he did collapse during the group interview we were doing because we’ve been travelling and he hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep - and is London going through some kind of heat wave? Because I don’t remember it being this bad -”

“No. Focus.” Kaya is sure now she’s been lied to, or at the very least manipulated. “You said he couldn’t talk. I thought he was unconscious or - or on a drip -”

“No, he couldn’t talk because he was on the phone with his mum - but, wait, Kaya -” Seokjin says hurriedly. “I didn’t lie. I just - I couldn’t think of any other way to get you here unless I… shit, what’s the word?”

“Exaggerated? Embellished? Aggrandized?”

“Lied,” supplies Yoongi, barely looking up from his laptop.

“Shut up, Yoongi,” mutters Seokjin through his teeth. “Look, Kaya… I’m sorry. But he honestly hasn’t been doing great, okay? He hasn’t been eating all that well and the travel back and forth is crazy and he’s constantly up at all hours writing, so it’s not even a surprise that he finally cracked under the pressure -”

“But he’s fine!” she exclaims. “If he’s taking work calls and bossing people around then all he probably needed was some Gatorade and a cookie! God, I can’t believe you lied to me,” she mutters, shaking her head and pulling out her phone. “You just cost me eighteen pounds to get here, Seokjin.”

“Look, he’s not a good place right now -”

“That’s not my problem anymore! He doesn’t need a babysitter and he definitely doesn’t need me hovering over him because he got light-headed for a second. This was really low of you, you know,” she snaps, turning around and heading towards the door but he stops her at the last second, sliding in front of her and blocking the door.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I did not want to lie to you and I understand why you’re angry, but…” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “You actually came here,” he blurts out. “You thought he was sick and you dropped everything and you came to him, even though you two aren’t on good terms right now. Kaya -“ He makes a motion as though about to grab her shoulders, but stops himself at the last moment.

“Seokjin -“

“Timing is everything,” he interrupts her, and his eyes look completely serious, almost manic. “You don’t know when you’re going to run out of it or - or when all of a sudden, you’re strangers.”

“What?” Kaya frowns incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s a mess,” he repeats, and his voice cracks a bit. “And I know you are, too, so while it’s not really any of my business, just please… please talk to him.”

Kaya has the distinct impression that this topic has run away from him entirely, but his audacity makes her hands shake. She turns briefly to look at Yoongi, who’s staring at Seokjin with his eyebrows raised, clearly as much in the dark as her.

She turns back around. “Seokjin,” she says in a low voice, “with all due respect, you don’t know the half of what happened between Namjoon and I. Okay? He ended our relationship. He did that. And we have nothing between us anymore. Now - please move so I can leave.”

Seokjin swallows and he looks hurt - but Kaya neither knows nor cares what that’s about. He lowers his head and shuffles to the side; Kaya opens the door and storms out, feeling sad and cheated and relieved all at once - only to be faced with Namjoon exiting the room on the opposite side of the corridor.

Kaya’s heart stops for a moment. Namjoon looks more surprised than ever, almost as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What - what are you doing here?” he asks, sounding a bit breathless.

She doesn’t know where to start. It’s just occurred to her how long it’s been since she last saw him, but she doesn’t want to stare. Her eyes fall slightly to his hands by his side, one of them holding a brand new phone.

“Ask Seokjin,” she says shortly, turning to leave.

“What? Wait -“

Kaya shakes her head to herself as she continues walking away, even as she hears his footsteps on the carpet behind her. She’s so annoyed at Seokjin - it’s hard to be outright angry at him, especially when he looks so pitiful - but whatever he’s working through is not her problem.

Without realising it, her feet slow down. Sighing, she turns around.

“Are you really not eating? Seriously?” she asks, not meaning to sound so exasperated. But now that she actually looks at him, plain white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, his hair a silvery-purple and brushing the collar of his t-shirt, she can see it. He’s getting thinner and his face is pale and while his frame is still broad, there’s no muscle left near his shoulders and chest.

Namjoon’s eyes shutter over slightly. “I’m eating just fine,” he mutters, looking away. Even the veins in his neck look more prominent. “Is that why you came here?”

“I heard you fainted. Or something.”

“I didn’t faint,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes. “I got a little dizzy and fell, kind of. I’m fine. Wait, is that why you’re here?” He frowns, but there’s a flash of hope in his eyes.

Kaya feels her cheeks grow warm. He’s looking at her like he’s just registered she’s here in the flesh and he looks relieved. Or disbelieving - either way, she feels the need to look away.

“Seokjin made it sound a lot worse. And I was already in London, so…”

“Work?”

“Kind of. Class off-site.”

Namjoon nods and takes a step forward. “It’s really good to see you,” he says, voice softer than before.

An old, familiar flutter passes through her stomach. Hooking her thumbs into the back pockets of her jeans, she hunches her shoulders slightly. “The purple suits you,” she replies, feeling the corner of her mouth lift up slightly. Namjoon smiles, too: a small half-smile but enough to make his dimple pop.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few moments before Kaya feels her smile fade. Heart hurting, she turns around and resumes walking away.

“You’re still mad at me,” he says from behind her. “Even now?”

She doesn’t stop, but slows down. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.” His answer is instant. His voice is closer now and even after all this time, Kaya’s entire body tingles when she thinks about their proximity.

“Why? It’s not going to change anything, right?” she asks, shrugging and finally turning.

Namjoon bites his lip. “I -” He stares at her, as though really studying her, before dropping his gaze to the floor. “It’s been six months,” he murmurs. “It might be too late to change anything, anyway.”

“What does that mean? Wait, no - you know what?” she adds quickly, her heart jerking. “I need you to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Reeling me back in. Constantly. Saying these things and - and coming over and -” She sniffs without meaning to. “Your friends luring me to your hotel to - what? Talk? You’re just making it worse. This is what you wanted.”

He scoffs. “No, I didn’t. Believe me, this -” He gestures to the space between them “- is definitely not what I wanted. I made one decision which was -”

“And it was a dumb decision!” she exclaims. “And I wasn’t even a part of it. But you made that call - so live with it. You don’t get to keep acting like you care about whether I’m angry -”

“Act? What the hell, Kaya? I’m miserable,” he argues, “and I hate myself for how this turned out but I had to do something. This wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me and I can’t go back in time but I can try not to make it worse! Being miserable is worth that.”

Kaya scoffs and folds her arms across her chest. “So that’s what this is about. You’re punishing yourself,” she states. “And it doesn’t matter that you hurt me in the process, too.”

Namjoon shakes his head, looking drained. “This isn’t about me.”

“No, it is.” Something about how defeated he looks is only making her angrier. “It’s about your self-inflicted sense of responsibility where everything is your problem, anything that goes wrong is your fault, and the only person that can fix it is you.”

“Fucking hell - do you think I like being wired this way?” he demands and his mouth trembles a bit. “Do you think I like not being able to sleep because I have people depending on me, or - or constantly worrying if I’m doing the right thing for everyone? The onus is on me and so is the blame. I hate it but I don’t… I don’t know how else to function,” he finishes, his voice cracking. “And I’m sorry you’re mad and I’ll let you hate me for however long you -”

“I don’t hate you. Jesus Christ,” she mutters, but she can feel her throat beginning to hurt. “And I never blamed you. Not once. What would I blame you for? I didn’t even get hurt last time - I was just freaked out. And then you bailed on me - some might call that cowardice.”

He flinches, like she’s slapped him. “Call it what you want, Kaya. And, yeah, maybe that wasn’t bad enough for you to blame me,” he admits. “But what about when it gets bad enough that you do blame me? Because you’ll be right. And I’ll have nothing - I’ll have no way to fight for us because you will be right to blame me and I will lose you, knowing that I did nothing to try and stop it. At least this way, I know I tried to do the right thing by letting you go.”

Kaya stares as he turns away, looking up at the ceiling and sniffing. It’s been three years but it’s still shocking to see him break down in front of her, her tall, strong boyfriend with the world on his shoulders. It takes her another moment to remember he’s not her boyfriend anymore.

“Okay,” she murmurs, hearing her own voice shake. “I’m going to say this for the last time, because… I’m so tired, Namjoon.” Walking towards him until she’s right in front of him, she hesitates before reaching for his face. Up close, the bags under his eyes are more prominent but she forces herself to meet his eyes, which look both confused and longing at the same time.

“I love you,” she says, waiting for the words to sink in. “I love you… and I want to be with you. And I want to marry you and I want to have your children and I want to grow old with you and die together, eighty years from now. But I’m so tired, Joon,” she repeats in a small voice, searching his eyes for something familiar. “If you ask me to leave right now, then… I’ll go. I’ll go and we’ll lead our separate lives and everything we were can just stay a nice memory. But -” She swallows, feeling her voice break again. “But if you ask me to stay… I promise, I will never leave you. It’s okay to be the one taken care of, Joonie,” she whispers.

Namjoon closes his eyes and touches his forehead to hers before opening them again. His hands are big and warm on her shoulders, long fingers curling around her arms like he’s still convincing himself, even now that she’s really here.

“I love you,” he whispers, but his eyes fall to the floor. “And I will always love you, but… Kaya, can we -”

Kaya shakes her head, not wanting to hear anymore. Ignoring the tear that escapes her eye and clenching her jaw to stop herself from sobbing, she lowers her hands, her heart breaking because now they’re really done.

“Goodbye, Namjoon,” she murmurs, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

It’s closure, or maybe it isn’t. Either way, it feels like the end.

—

It’s too warm for London; Kaya doesn’t remember ever feeling this hot in her two years living in this city while she was getting her Masters, but maybe global warming really is catching up with them. The air conditioner in Dilara’s apartment is extremely effective, though, so despite the fact that she’s been in shorts and a thin off-shoulder all day, she cradles a cup of steaming green tea in her hands, barely feeling the heat.

A knock sounds on her door and jerks her out of her numbness.

“Hey,” says Dilara softly, poking her head in. When Kaya nods in acknowledgement, she steps inside. “You alright?”

Kaya considers this. “No,” she answers honestly. “But I wasn’t really expecting anything different.”

While Dilara doesn’t know the details of what transpired earlier this evening, it seems as though she’s guessed the general gist of it. “Well… we’re going to get drinks in a bit. Do you want to join? Get your mind off it?”

We, meaning Taehyung and her friends Lexie and Chris. “I’m good, thanks,” mutters Kaya, privately thinking it’s the last thing she wants to do right now. “I think I need to just be alone and… process. Or forget.” She takes a sip of the tea but it’s tasteless. “I want to get it over with before I leave tomorrow. By the way,” she adds, setting the tea on the bedside table, “thank you for letting me stay while I’m here.”

“Of course,” says Dilara, like it’s obvious. “Whenever you’re in London, just give me a ring. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, though?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She nods, looking slightly doubtful but thankfully not pushing. “Well, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Liquor is in the cabinet by the dining table. Food… not much of it. Booze - a lot of it.”

Kaya nods, giving her a small smile as she moves to leave.

“Oh, um.” Dilara stops. “By the way, I just want to let you know that while I really like Namjoon… if it comes down to choosing sides, I’m on yours.” She shrugs sort of sheepishly as she says it.

“Oh.” Kaya pauses, not expecting this. “That’s… not necessary.”

“Maybe,” she admits.”It’s just… I know that Tae and I are disgustingly into each other right now, but not too long ago, we were broken up, too. And as much as I love the guys…” She sighs and purses her lips. “They’re one team and they will stick up for each other, no matter what. And it can be a little intimidating,” she adds. “So, just to clarify, I’m on your team.”

Kaya doesn’t quite know how to respond to this. “That’s really nice,” she says at last. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

She sighs and runs her hands over her face. “In any case, I don’t think it’ll ever go there. We’re pretty over. And believe me, the last thing I want to do is be the cause of any conflict between you and Taehyung.”

Dilara shakes her head. “Are you kidding? We fight over everything. It’s kind of become a thing now. Besides,” she continues, “being on opposite sides, opposing teams… can you imagine how much hotter the sex would be?”

“Okay,” mutters Kaya quickly, chuckling despite herself. “Glad to help.” But she’s grateful for the momentary lightness.

Dilara grins. “You have a really pretty smile.”

Disney princess eyes. “Thanks, Komyshan.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies in a sing-songy voice, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her. Not a moment passes before it opens again. “Oh, also?”

Kaya tries not to sigh; she’s very fond of Dilara, but she really needs to be alone right now. “Yeah?”

“Um…” Dilara cranes her neck to look at something outside the room before stepping inside and closing the door again. “Don’t be angry, but… Chris let me in on a little secret.”

Kaya freezes. “He did?”

“Yeah…” she says slowly. “Don’t be angry with him. I’m one of his closest friends and… this is the kind of thing he’d need to tell someone.”

“Jesus.” Her heart is still racing from this unexpected turn in conversation, but she’s too tired to care much about it now. “You know what, it’s fine. Just… don’t tell Namjoon.”

Dilara shrugs. “Of course. It’s none of my business.” She pauses. “I just hope you’re being careful. And like I said, I’m on your side, so if you need anything -”

“I know.”

She nods and opens her mouth to respond when the doorbell rings. “Hang on,” she mutters, disappearing out of the room.

Kaya closes her eyes and drops her face into her hands, sad and exhausted and empty. She appreciates Dilara’s concern but right now, she just needs to be alone. She hears the door open and Dilara’s voice say something, before she calls out her name.

“Kaya?” Dilara appears in the doorway again and the delicate look on her face is telling enough. “It’s for you.”

It’s almost an out of body experience, hearing her own footsteps on the hardwood floors and stepping out of the guest bedroom to see Namjoon at the end of the hallway. Part of her gets it now, why when she’d arrived at the hotel, he’d looked like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. It seems surreal that he’s here now, and her chest feels like it’s being crushed with sadness and fury.

She barely registers Dilara muttering something and leaving them alone, disappearing into her bedroom, no doubt to give Taehyung an update. For a few moments, there is silence. Kaya doesn’t want to look at him anymore; the rejection is fresh and cuts like a knife, and no part of how broken he looks means anything to her anymore.

When a few more seconds pass and nothing happens, Kaya folds her arms across her chest and scoffs, looking away. “Are you here to break up with me some more? Because believe me, I get the message, alright?”

Namjoon seemingly ignores this. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t get hurt last time?” He takes a step forward. “The break-in - that was the only time, right?”

Kaya frowns, momentarily unsure of what he’s talking about. But his gaze is unwavering and even when she remembers her own words, she doesn’t answer. “You are unbelievable,” she mutters.

“Kaya, I’m serious.”

“I don’t care,” she snaps. “I don’t owe you any answers, about anything. Not after you expressly asked me to leave.”

“I didn’t, actually,” he points out. “I couldn’t. And I know you don’t owe me anything, but -” He breaks off and looks around, presumably for the words, but eventually just hangs his head. “Please. Did something else happen?”

“How is it - why do you - what are you even going to do with this information?” she asks incredulously. “How does it matter? And why did you come all the way here -”

“Why did you come all the way to my hotel when you thought something happened to me?” he interrupts.

Kaya falls silent. Her heart hammers; she thinks of his words an hour ago, of the last time he’d come to Amsterdam, of Chris Park and feels moments away from crumbling.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she whispers. “I don’t know what you want anymore.”

“I want you to be safe,” he answers immediately. “And I don’t know if this is the way to go about it but I had to do something. How inadequate of a boyfriend would I be if I did nothing?”

Kaya shakes her head. There are too many things she can say in response to that but it’s hurting too much to argue. “You bought a new phone?” she asks instead.

“What? Yeah.”

“What happened to your old one?”

“It broke.”

She raises her eyebrows, albeit not very surprised. “How?”

Namjoon hesitates. “I threw it at a wall.”

It’s enough to give pause. She wants to ask if it was on purpose; something in his expression tells her it was and if it was out of anger, she can’t think what would have set him off that badly.

She decides she doesn’t want to know. Fishing her own three year old iPhone out of her back pocket, she taps on the screen. “If I toss my phone to you, will you catch it? Because a new phone is not something I can afford right now.”

Amidst everything, a shadow of doubt passes across his face. “I mean, I can - I can try.” He bends his knees slightly and holds his hands in front of him, like a wicketkeeper, looking tense. For a brief moment, Kaya almost smiles.

“Okay.” She glances at her phone screen and bites her lip. If she shows him this, there’s no going back. Then she shakes her head. “Here goes,” she mutters, carefully tossing her phone in a clean arc and aiming as closely as she can for his hands.

Namjoon winces and still fumbles it, but thankfully manages to avoid it hitting the ground. Sighing in relief, he straightens up and turns the screen towards him, and she can see him type her security code with his thumb. Kaya watches him carefully, her heart sinking when she sees his expression drop and all the colour leave his face.

“What - what the hell is this?” he asks, his voice hoarse, and looking nauseous.

“Read it,” she says quietly. The characters on the piece of paper are foreign to her but aren’t to him, and the moment she’d seen it, even through the shock, the first thing she’d done was snap a picture of it. “Out loud.”

“No, I’m not going to read it out loud.” He shakes his head, looking paler than ever. “Kaya, what is -” His voice cracks.

“It was taped to my front door a couple of weeks ago,” she says listlessly. “I tried translating it on Google but nothing made sense, so I asked Dilara’s friend Chris to help me out.” She recalls Chris’s confusion at her pointed question, followed by horror and embarrassment. She’d had to urge him to be honest with her and he’d finally, after a long time and profuse apologies, typed back in English: you’re dead namjoon’s whore.

Namjoon is staring at her phone screen, motionless except for his hands shaking. “I just don’t understand,” he whispers, closing his eyes and lowering the phone, “why you still want to be with me. After all this, after being stalked and now this? After getting actual threats?”

She rolls her eyes even as her stomach twists with the memory of that day. “Who says I still want to be with you?”

He ignores this, exhaling shakily. “Are you okay? Did you - wait, how did this even happen? I put out a statement that I was single.”

“Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t care - I don’t give a shit. But it happened.”

Namjoon swallows. “Fuck. What - what do we do? Tell me what I can -“

“You don’t have to do anything. The person who did it got caught on the building’s security camera. I called the cops and they charged her with harassment and I got a restraining order, too. But I guess my apartment is truly a loose cannon now, so…” She sighs. “I’m moving. I found a new place that’s closer to campus. It’s a little more expensive so I probably won’t be able to afford food for a while,” she adds with a roll of her eyes. “But, yeah. I’ve been staying on campus since then. I officially move in this weekend.”

Her explanation is followed by almost a minute of silence. “You’re staying on campus?” he asks softly.

Kaya notes the change in his voice and knows exactly what he’s referring to. “I don’t have a choice. But… it’s not so bad. I don’t stay out too late unless I’m with someone.” She bites her lip. “It’s only for a couple of more days.”

“Fuck. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah. Hard as it is for you to believe, I can actually take care of myself.”

“I’ve never doubted you or your ability to take care of yourself, Kaya. I only -“

“No, you just doubted me enough to make a decision to end our relationship all on your own.” Kaya scoffs quietly, even as her chest feels lighter. She’d asked Dilara not to tell him but now that he knows… it feels right somehow.

“It took every bit of strength I had in me to leave you, Kaya,” he confessed. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t just do nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” she bursts, her frustration exploding. “You were on tour! You were working but you dropped it in a second for me when I called you! You missed a fan meeting, you took an eight hour flight from a different continent - you did everything! Every single thing I could’ve asked of you! Until you left,” she finishes abruptly, feeling her eyes start to well up again.

Namjoon’s eyes flicker. “But… I didn’t - that’s not what I -“

“I was terrified after the break-in, Namjoon,” she reminds him, “and the only thing that was keeping me going was that you were still there. But after this, I -“ She shakes her head, the debilitating fear reappearing in flashes. “I was terrified all over again but this time I couldn’t call you.”

He steps forward. “Kaya, you can always call me -“

“No, I can’t,” she interrupts him, snapping incredulously. “You’re my ex - I can’t run to you if I’m in trouble anymore. That’s what it means to break up. God, Joon, I didn’t need you to fix it for me - I just needed you to be there. You think you were an inadequate boyfriend because of the break-in?” She scoffs. “You were the perfect boyfriend for the first eighteen hours after that. This was when you let me down, because you weren’t there for me when I needed you!”

Namjoon shakes his head slowly, his lower lip trembling. Through everything, his devastation at her words is clear as day. Placing her phone on the side table in the hallway, he takes a hesitant step forward, then another, and doesn’t stop until he reaches her. Their eyes meet briefly before he wraps his arms around her and for a moment, he takes her breath away.

She can feel his heart pounding through his chest, just under her palm. It’s fast and irregular, but it’s still familiar and for the first time in two weeks, Kaya closes her eyes and feels some of the heaviness in her chest disappear.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice hoarse and trembling against her hair. “Fuck, I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Kaya. I’m so, so sorry…”

She nods silently, not wanting to cry out loud because the relief - even a momentary relief - is so overwhelming that she just wants it to last a little longer. From living on a college campus after years to having to leave her small, cosy haven of an apartment, she exhales shakily into his shoulder and finally relaxes because this… this is safe.

“I love you,” he murmurs, “and I wish I could keep you safe from everything, baby, but I just don’t know how.” His voice cracks on the last word.

“You can’t,” she answers thickly but firmly. “And I don’t expect you to. But… Joon, you broke my heart,” she confesses, sniffling.

“Please don’t say that,” he whispers, holding her tighter. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…” He takes a deep breath, lips pressed to the side of her head. “Did you really mean what you said at the hotel? Even after all this? Because if you did… I’m yours, baby, if you’ll still have me.”

Kaya’s heart skips a beat. “You’re really fucking skinny,” she murmurs into his neck. “What the hell happened?”

Namjoon scoffs quietly but doesn’t answer. Slowly, as though it’s the biggest struggle in the world, his arms loosen. “Kaya,” he says.

She sighs and steps out of his arms, hating every moment of it. “I did mean it,” she admits. “But I don’t know how to be in a relationship with someone who won’t let me be a part of it.”

He shakes his head. “That was never my intention. I just wanted to help - I know I went about it the wrong way but that’s all I wanted. I swear.”

“No, Joon, I’m not doubting your intentions, okay? But it’s not fair. It can’t just be your decision every time. You’re the leader, the point of contact, the eldest son, big brother - whatever. I don’t care,” she says flatly. “But you are not in charge of this. Of us. You don’t have to be,” she adds after a moment, softer.

Namjoon lowers his head, his gaze on the floor, and nods. “I understand what you’re saying,” he says slowly, “but it’s really hard to see a piece of paper calling you… that -“ he says through his teeth, jaw clenching “and not feel angry about it.”

“You’re just going to have to try.”

“Yeah? Do you remember at your friend Alex’s birthday when you “accidentally” -“ He puts quotation marks around the word “- spilled that guy’s drink onto his phone? The one who thought I didn’t understand English and called me an Asian wannabe who should stick to math instead of playing at rap?”

Kaya feels her face go slack. “That - that was an accident. Not to mention completely different,” she tacks on when he gives her a look indicating he doesn’t believe her. “I was pissed but I didn’t take it out on you.”

“I - I know. You’re right, Kaya. I’m sorry,” he repeats, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “I get it. My guilt, my problem.”

“No,” she disagrees, seeing him look up in surprise. “No guilt at all. Namjoon, if I choose to be with you, knowing what I know, then it’s my decision. And if there is guilt… God, just talk to me about it. Because this whole suffering in silence thing? I’m over it.”

Namjoon nods. “You and Yoongi both,” he mutters dryly. When she simply sighs and looks away, he speaks again. “So, are you? Choosing to be with me?”

Kaya takes a deep breath, finding it hard to meet his eyes now. “I don’t know. God, I am so mad at you,” she mutters, dropping her face in her hands.

He doesn’t argue. She can feel his eyes on her but doesn’t want to get swayed, not by how horrified he looked when she showed him the note, how disappointed he seemed in himself when she unleashed her frustration at him, or now, with so much doubt and vulnerability in his voice.

A sound startles her out of her silence and she turns to see Dilara poke her head out from behind the wall in the direction of the master bedroom.

“Heeeey,” she says slowly, as Taehyung’s head appears similarly above hers. “Didn’t, uh, mean to interrupt… but we kind of have to…” She points to the front door sheepishly.

Kaya nods jerkily, having sort of forgotten that they are in Dilara’s house. Her face heats up when she thinks about how much they might have heard; she takes care not to meet either of their eyes as they traipse out, fully dressed for a night out.

“So… are you sure you guys don’t want to come?” Dilara asks doubtfully. “It might be fun?”

“We’re meeting Chris and Lexie at a bar,” adds Taehyung helpfully, ignoring Dilara when she corrects him with “pub” and tosses his long bangs out of his eyes, “… in case you need a drink.” He raises his eyebrows.

Kaya can’t think of anything she wants less than to be in a crowded pub, but she turns to Namjoon anyway who’s looking back at her with his hands in his pockets.

“I think we’ll sit this one out,” she answers after a moment, watching him for his reaction. “We… kind of need to talk.”

“Okay, then.” Dilara pulls out her phone. “I’ll text Chris that we only need a table for four, then.”

“The same Chris?” Namjoon mutters to Kaya, who nods.

“Yeah. Buy him a drink on me?” She suggests to Dilara. “Kind of owe him.”

Namjoon half-chuckles without humour and Dilara raises her eyebrows. “Oh, you told him?” When Kaya nods, she sighs. “That’s a relief. I was feeling sick keeping it to myself.”

“Wait, you knew?” Namjoon frowns, his jaw sharp.

“Well, yeah - Chris is my friend and he is terrible at keeping secrets so I had -“

“Hang on - how could you not tell me?” he interrupts her, and she falls silent. “Dilara, seriously?”

“I didn’t -“

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.” Taehyung steps in front of her, frowning handsomely. “Hyung,” he tacks on after a moment.

“Namjoon, come on,” says Kaya, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back a step. “I asked her and Chris not to.”

He opens his mouth to say something but then simply sighs and shakes his head, hands on his hips. Behind Taehyung, Dilara glares at him.

“Now I really need a drink,” she mutters, starting to head towards the door. Taehyung gives Namjoon a knowing look as he follows her out and the front door closes behind them.

Namjoon sighs. “What is wrong with me?” he mutters, running his hands tiredly down his face.

Kaya bites her lip. Under different circumstances, she would be pulling him into a hug right now, ignoring his half-hearted protests until he gave up and hugged her back, his hold getting tighter with every passing second.

But things are different now.

“I have a theory,” she says finally. “Come with me.”

—

Namjoon watches as Kaya examines Dilara’s kitchen cabinets, frowning and humming to herself. She stands on her tiptoes and rummages inside a box and he hesitates before looking away, distinctly feeling as though he hasn’t yet earned the right to check her out without her knowledge.

“Insanely understocked,” she declares, retrieving a box of Pop Tarts and heading towards the toaster. “But we’ll make do with what we’ve got.”

“Sure.”

She glances back at him briefly. “Are you sure you don’t want a beer?” she asks him, gesturing to her newly opened can, the condensation still only just forming. “It’s terribly hot.”

It is and he would love a beer right now. But he shakes his head. “I don’t think I should be drinking Dilara’s booze right now,” he mutters, wincing inwardly.

Kaya’s eyes linger on him for a moment before she turns around and starts placing the Pop Tarts into the toaster. “You can have a sip from mine,” she offers.

Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s okay.”

“Okay.”

They stand there in the kitchen, the six feet of distance between them feeling like a chasm. But it’s the closest he’s been to her in months and he can’t help but take in her presence, drinking it in for as long as he can.

Kaya casually picks up her can and takes a long sip, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. “Oh, that feels good.”

Namjoon suppresses a chuckle. “Alright, then. I’ll have a sip.” His heart skips a beat almost painfully when a smile flashes across her face and she silently hands him the can.

“Oh, God,” he mumbles, swallowing a sip and pressing the cold tin to his cheek. “Oh, man, this is everything.”

Kaya raises an eyebrow but says nothing, moving to pick up the toasted Pop Tarts. Piling them onto a plate, she pushes it towards him. “Eat.”

“What?”

“Eat,” she repeats, dropping another batch into the toaster. “It’s good.”

Namjoon’s gaze falls on the packet, the huge animated chocolate staring back at him. “I - I’m on tour,” he murmurs, a little apologetic.

Kaya looks as though she’s about to insist but then simply shrugs. “Okay, then.” Picking up a Pop Tart, she takes a small bite.

Sighing, Namjoon takes one, finishing it in three bites. It’s better than he’d anticipated; he takes another, and another after that and before he knows it, he’s eaten six.

“Wow,” he says, staring at the crumbs on the plate.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll burn that before the next concert, right?” he asks hopefully.

“I doubt it. I can already see it hitting your thighs.”

He gives her a look that she returns, still finishing her second Pop Tart. She heads to the fridge and retrieves another can of beer, sliding it to him.

“Just drink it,” she tells him before he can decline again. “Dilara has a whole carton in here. And I have her express permission.”

Pausing for a moment, he cracks open the can and holds it up. She clinks hers with it and they drink together in silence. They don’t speak again until they’re out of the kitchen and in the softly lit dining room.

Kaya takes a seat at the head of the table, lifting her feet up on the edge of the chair and hugging her knees. Namjoon sits on the adjacent chair, wishing he could pull her chair closer to him.

“How’s tour going?” she asks softly.

Small talk. She’s trying, and Namjoon’s heart fills with cautious hope. “Tiring,” he answers. “I can barely keep track of which city we’re in. But I’m writing a lot,” he adds.

She tilts her head. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

“Jetlag?”

“Sure.”

He waits to see a flicker of knowing on her face before smiling back at her. Before the break-in, they had discussed Kaya joining him on tour for some of their European concerts. He wonders if she still remembers, and how different the tour would be right now.

“I heard you got published,” he says, adoring how she smiles involuntarily at it, part shy and part proud. “I can’t believe it. Or, I can. Just - congratulations,” he says sheepishly. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks. It was a lot of work and a lot of iterations -” She shakes her head and takes a drink. “But career-wise, it’s a pretty decent step. And I get royalties on it, so that makes two of us now.” She raises his eyebrows in satisfaction. “It was worth the late nights.”

Late nights. Namjoon wants to ask and he has a feeling she wants to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to presume. Hesitating, he places his arm on the table towards her, his palm facing up. Kaya doesn’t move, though, and for a moment he can feel his throat close up.

But then she gingerly lifts her hand, pauses, and eventually places it in his. It’s unsure and guarded, but it’s more than he could hope for. His thumb runs over her knuckles, soft and delicate, and he’s more grateful than ever that she doesn’t move away.

“Do you still stay late in the library?” he asks.

Kaya’s eyes stay on their hands as she shakes her head. “I prefer working out of the dorm room. It faces the river so the breeze is much cooler. And my roommate plays a lot of old school rock so that’s nice, too.” She nods to herself, her gaze unmoving. “I don’t like being there,” she whispers.

Namjoon says nothing and simply squeezes her hand. Ordinarily, this would again be one of those moments when he would have stood up and pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms and silently letting her vent.

“I can’t sleep either,” she confesses after a moment. “So I guess that makes two of us, too.”

He tilts his head, hoping she’ll look up at him. “I get why you couldn’t call me before. But you can now. You know that, right?” he asks gently. “For the next few weeks, we’ll actually be in similar timezones for once.”

She cracks a smile but still doesn’t look up. “I might just take you up on that. I’ll start moving my stuff into the apartment the moment I get back, anyway, so when I actually get possession, I’m done.”

“That’s a good idea. Actually, if you want,” he ventures hopefully, “I could help.”

“Help me move in?”

“Yeah. If you want,” he repeats, trying not to sound nonchalant. “Our concert isn’t till Saturday and we’re supposed to have a radio show on Friday but I can take a couple of days off to -”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” she starts to say, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“I don’t think the company will mind,” he offers, thinking privately that even if he does have to argue with them a bit, how completely worth it it would be.

Kaya bites her fingernail, observing him. Then she shrugs. “Alright. If you want.”

He nods slowly, continuing his attempt at the nonchalance. “And, uh… I’ll book a hotel. If you want,” he says again, “you can - you can… stay. Over.” He bites his lip. “If you don’t want to stay on campus.”

Some of her casual facade breaks. “Really?”

“Yeah. And - and don’t worry, it’ll be big enough so you don’t - I mean, we don’t -” He breaks off and cringes inwardly.

Kaya raises her eyebrows. “Separate beds?”

A half-chuckle passes his lips, for it sounds ridiculous. “Yeah. Separate beds.”

“You don’t think we can control ourselves in the same bed?”

“I think it’ll take everything we have in us to do it,” he admits boldly. “But I think we can.”

She doesn’t answer but tries to suppress a smile. On the table, her hand feels looser in his. He’s just about to say something when her phone buzzes next to her and she automatically reaches for it, letting go of his hand.

“Everything okay?” he asks when she clicks her tongue.

“Yeah,” she sighs, scrolling through a message presumably. “Got a quiz to grade by the weekend. And it’s a finance elective so I’m going to need the prep material from - from the professor.” She sets the phone down but doesn’t look up at him again.

Namjoon lowers his hand as well, something like a dark cloud feeling like it’s just appeared above them. “Are you sure you’ll be okay staying with me?” he asks in a low voice, looking at his knees as the incongruity of the question creeps into his chest. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t feel any pressure.”

He nods. “It’s just… I know we were - are technically apart for a while. It wouldn’t be strange if you… you know.”

Kaya takes a few moments before answering. “Well, I’m not,” she clarifies. “And also… Namjoon, I didn’t have sex with Adam.”

Namjoon feels his gaze freeze on the leg of her chair. “What?”

She sighs hugely, turning away when he slowly looks up to face her. “I didn’t sleep with him. I just said that to piss you off,” she confesses. “It was stupid and petty and childish, but… yeah. I lied.”

There’s a roaring in Namjoon’s ears, like a sugar rush in his veins after months of dieting. He feels like he could sing, and the restraint to not jump to his feet and yell in relief almost causes him to have a hernia. Clenching his fists in gratitude at his sides, he nods with difficulty.

“Oh. That’s - that’s… interesting.”

Kaya narrows her eyes and gives him a look, clearly not fooled by his forced nonchalance. But Namjoon doesn’t care. The sleepless nights and never-finding flights where his own brain continued to punish him by generating the most traumatic images feel like nightmares from a different lifetime.

“We did kiss,” she admits after a moment, and Namjoon’s heart sinks a little. “After a few drinks. But we agreed it was a mistake. And I’m not saying you were right,” she adds quickly, as when he rests his chin on his palm and places his fingers over his mouth, “because he didn’t push or get weird about it, but there’s a chance you may have been… kind of… on the right track.”

Namjoon could kick him - but then again, by her own admission, it sounds like the least troubling thing to happen to Kaya over the last few months.

“Okay,” he manages.

She pauses, then looks at her hands. “What about you? Have you…”

“No.”

“Not even…”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” She takes another sip of her beer, a big one, and doesn’t speak for a few seconds. “Are you hungry?” she asks suddenly. “There’s, like, a crazy amount of ramen in this house.”

Namjoon doesn’t know if it’s because he hasn’t been around ramen in a long while, or if it’s because it’s Kaya who’s asking, but for the first time in a long time, his stomach rumbles.

—

It’s nearing one am when Dilara returns home.

Namjoon is jerked out of the small, comfortable, familiar bubble with Kaya on the sofa where they moved after consuming two steaming bowls of soupy ramen. A glass of rosé each, they’re sitting face to face with their sides against the back of the sofa, only their knees touching ever so slightly to maintain the distance.

“Wait, no… it’s this part -” Kaya pauses and concentrates on the song playing at a low volume from the neighbouring apartment. “... can’t help… falling in love with you… and that’s the trumpet,” she finishes, the UB40 cover coming to a peppy end. “This was dad’s favourite song - I know it inside out.”

“Fine, you were right,” he admits. “Whoever this is probably has the most varied music taste I’ve ever seen, though. Eminem, Guns N Roses, Camilla Cabello and then Elvis?”

“And Nsync before that,” she adds. “Maybe it’s multiple people. Oh, wait - I know this song.” She wrinkles her nose as the guitar picks up, apparently having mistaken it for something else, when the front door opens. “Shit,” she mutters, startled.

“Hey, we’re back,” calls Dilara, sounding slightly wary. Multiple footsteps follow her in, followed by a mixture of conversing and laughing.

“Komyshan, is yesterday’s pizza still in the fridge?” Chris Park asks, shuffling in and taking off his jacket.

“Check for yourself, Park,” mutters Lexie, kicking off her shoes. “Hey, guys,” she says to Kaya and Namjoon, who wave back. “Wow, the neighbours aren’t even trying to keep it quiet, are they?”

“Oh, wait, I know this song!” Taehyung exclaims, and he and Dilara look at each other in excitement before breaking out into grins.

“I haven’t heard Tous les garçons et les filles since… wow, since that day?” She beams when he winks at her and starts swaying by himself to the music, shoulders and all.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows as the renewed chatter and chaos in the apartment continues, and he can’t help but feel a little sorry that the rare time he was having with Kaya has been cut short.

“I’d hang out but I’m exhausted,” groans Lexie, downing an entire tall glass of water. “And drunk,” she adds after a moment. “So I’m going to bed but I’ll see you all in the morning. Goodnight.” She glances deliberately at Chris before departing in the direction of her room.

Namjoon frowns as Chris nibbles on the last of a pizza crust, while Dilara raises an eyebrow at him. “Goodnight, everyone,” he mutters abruptly, following Lexie. A moment later, they hear the sound of the door closing.

Dilara rolls her eyes and gently pushes Taehyung in the direction of the kitchen. “You should drink some water, too, babe…”

Taehyung faintly says something in response and floats towards Dilara’s room instead but Namjoon glances at Kaya, who silently cocks her head towards the dining room. Nodding and feeling vaguely anxious, he gets up and goes over to where they were sitting earlier and talking. Dilara is bringing out a bowl of fruit, piled high with apples, bananas and grapes when she catches sight of him and quickly looks away.

“Hey,” he says gingerly, stopping at the dining table where she continues bustling around, twisting her long curly hair into a loose knot. “How was your night?” When all he gets is a shrug in response, he places his drink on the table and rallies. “Thanks for… hosting, I guess. Your apartment’s really nice.”

“Mhm.”

With renewed respect for Taehyung, Namjoon continues. “And, uh… oh, Kaya talked me into a glass of this wine. It’s delicious. Where did you get it from?”

“Harrods.”

“Great. I think we drank about a fourth of it tonight. Can I buy you another one to replace it?”

Without warning, Dilara turns around on her heel and places one hand on her hip. Despite being a foot shorter than him, she startles him into taking an automatic step back.

“Are you bribing me?”

Namjoon swallows and frowns, pressing his tongue to his upper lip. “Is it working?” When she narrows her eyes at him, he sighs. “I’m sorry I snapped. That wasn’t right of me.”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, you know? Why do you think I invited her to stay here?”

“I know. You’re right. It’s just…” He runs his hands through his hair. “It’s been an emotional night.”

Her features soften slightly. “Been apologising a lot tonight, have you?” But she doesn’t sound sarcastic - more curious.

He glances at Kaya who’s still in the living room, leaning against the arm of the sofa and watching them, her glass of wine now empty and resting on her thighs.

“Kind of.” He lowers his head. “Guess I had it coming, though. But it’s been a lot better than I expected,” he adds, realising as he says it that it’s true, that even the distant, cautious dynamic was miles ahead of what he could have hoped for.

Dilara raises her eyebrows. “Are you back together?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“Not yet,” he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But soon, maybe. I hope.”

She purses her lips. “Well, she’s angry, I suppose. But she’s missed you, too,” she adds after a moment. “And she knows why you did what you did… even if it was a shit idea.” She smiles innocently when he gives her a look. “Her words, not mine.”

“Alright.” He exhales, reaching over and affectionately grabbing her head. “Are we cool, though?”

“I guess.” She pauses, then rolls her eyes dramatically and accepts his hug, the top of her head just about reaching his shoulder. “But only if you do the robot at least once on stage at your next concert,” she decides as they separate.

“What’s that now?”

“You heard me. Oh, and it has to be during a sad song, not a dancey one.”

“I - fine,” he agrees, rolling his eyes and privately dreading the next performance already, grateful for Kaya as she joins them.

“Everything okay over here?” she asks delicately. “Because it kind of looked like you were going to get your ass kicked for a second there,” she tells Namjoon.

“Oh, no,” says Namjoon. “It’s much worse. I have to do the robot on stage on Saturday and possibly go viral for looking like an idiot,” he guesses, fixing Dilara with a pleading look, who simply shakes her head.

“Forgiveness has its price,” she says wisely.

“It’s like placating a kid,” points out Kaya. “Which kind of adds up, probably - you used to say you were kind of like a babysitter to these guys.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes again and, without thinking, places an arm around Kaya’s shoulder. There’s a moment of awkwardness when he remembers where they are and he’s about to drop it, but then she seemingly leans into it out of habit, and he lets it stay.

“Hey, what are we talking about?” Taehyung appears from behind them and accidentally brushes Namjoon’s arm. As he makes way for his group member, Namjoon has no choice but to drop his arm to his side. “We’re out of toothpaste, by the way,” he says, nudging Dilara’s shoulder.

“We’re talking about what it’s like to have kids,” offers Kaya. “And the lengths you have to go to for them.”

“Kids?” Taehyung frowns slightly as he pops a grape into his mouth before looking straight at his girlfriend. “I’d like to have kids with you.”

All traces of the smirk on Dilara’s face drop at his words. “That - that isn’t even close to what we were talking about.”

“I always used to think three, but I think four is a nice, round number.”

“Taehyung,” she interrupts him, while Namjoon snorts and Kaya watches in amusement, “shut up. We were only saying that -”

“We’ll need a minivan to fit four, though. With three we still have a chance to have at least one boy and one girl, no?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Of course. Three, minimum,” he decides seriously. “And I think we should name the oldest one Princess. Even if it’s a boy.”

Dilara glares at him before rolling her eyes. “That’s my cue to leave. Goodnight,” she states.

She turns around and leaves, Taehyung casually following her. As they disappear around the corner, Namjoon can hear him go, “But, jagiya, think how gorgeous you’ll be pregnant…”

“Shut up, Tae, I’m serious…”

There’s a fading sound of rustling and groaning and giggling before the sound of a door closing shut. Finally alone again after a fifteen minute fever dream of some truly unexpected chaos, Namjoon glances at Kaya.

“You must be tired,” he murmurs.

She shrugs. “I guess.” She starts to walk towards the guest room, the only one in the main area of the apartment, and stops a few feet away from the door. “My flight’s tomorrow evening,” she says.

He nods, reasonably sure of why she’s telling him this. “I’ll be there on Wednesday morning. If, you know, you’re still okay with…”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Cool. I’ll have to be back Friday for rehearsal, though,” he says, slightly apologetic.

“That’s okay. I appreciate the help.”

There’s a silence, an expectant one. They spent hours talking today, with topics ranging from their relationship to the most minor, unimportant things. But there’s no avoiding it now - whatever happens next feels foundational.

Namjoon’s brain is working in overdrive, trying to decide the right thing to say, when the sounds begin. Kaya’s jaw drops and she turns her head halfway before shaking it, her eyes wide.

“Is that -”

“Unfortunately,” he mutters tightly. “In a happy coincidence, Taehyung’s room is right next to mine at the dorm, so this is… not the first time,” he informs her, squeezing his eyes shut.

When the muffled sounds only get louder, Kaya covers her mouth in shock. “Okay, I’m going to bed,” she says quickly. “Um, goodnight.”

Namjoon’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Kaya.” There’s a painful pause after which he takes a hesitant step forward, raising his arms slightly.

Kaya exhales and meets him halfway, reaching up and hugging him. It’s comforting and hopeful and Namjoon holds her tight, trying to block out the sounds but instead becoming more aware than ever of the shape of her body against him, the coconut and vanilla scent of her hair and her bare legs under her shorts.

They separate slowly, and she takes a step back. Giving him a small, silent wave, she backs up and opens her bedroom door. Namjoon watches as she steps inside and moves to close the door when she pauses, and a moment later, leaves it open.

He frowns. It takes him a beat. Then two. The sounds from Dilara’s room seem to be in no position to stop anytime soon and in a split second, Namjoon makes the decision to follow Kaya inside, closing the door behind him.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

#namjoon x oc #namjoon fanfic #taehyung fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon angst

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bullet-prooflove · 1 day

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TheStudy! Part Two: Distance - Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793

The problem Dean thinks, is that you’re naïve, you see the good in everyone. You don’t see ulterior motives, not the way that he does. It’s one of the reasons he loves you, he’s sure it’s one of the reasons Jack loves you.

The study you’re undertaking and Jack, they start to become your priorities. The weekly standing lunch date the two of you usually have, it’s cancelled because Jack, he needs you for a meeting. Your afternoons are spent teaching the program at Northwestern University, the sessions can usually run late into the evening because Jack encourages you to take the opportunity to network.

The nights you are home, you’re not present, not really. You’re working on your latest revisions to the study, honing the program, reviewing the feedback.

All those times he’d shut you out, Dean’s starting to get a taste of what that feels like.

The worst part is you’re not even doing this on purpose. This study it’s important, it’s helping a lot of people, it’s also giving you options, opportunities that you wouldn’t have otherwise. Things that Dean could never give you, things that Jack can.

“Maybe we can get dinner tonight?” He tries one morning when he comes home from his run. “It feels like it’s been a while since we’ve actually spent a little time together.”

You’re tucking your laptop into the brown leather Marc Jacobs satchel he bought you for Christmas, the one you’ve always coveted. Power dresses and high heels have become your normal attire these days, he misses the evenings he used to come home and launder your scrubs together.

“I can’t.” You tell him as you zip up the satchel and sling it over your shoulder. “There’s a drinks reception with the Board tonight, they want to know how the study’s going…”

“Yea, yea sure.” Dean says, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck. “It’s just that I’m starting to feel more like your roommate than your husband and I think that’s something we need to talk about.”

You phone chimes and you sigh as you glance at it.

“That’s Jack, he’s downstairs waiting in a town car.” You say as you tuck the device into the pocket of your blazer. “I’m sorry Dean, I need to go, we’ll have to talk about it later.”

It cuts like a knife through his chest because you know how hard it is for him to be vulnerable, to admit when he’s feeling hurt, upset, unsure.

“Isobel…” He begins but he stops himself because the thing he wants to tell you, that he needs to tell you, it’s not something he can just throw at you as you’re walking out the door.

You pause in the doorway and he swallows hard against the emotion that’s building in his chest because Dean, he’s terrified right now, he’s been terrified ever since Doctor Cameron had told him he was in renal failure two days ago.

“Just have a good day.” He says finally and you smile that sweet smile of yours before you step back into the room, your lips brushing over his grizzled cheek.

“Tomorrow.” You promise him clasping both of his hands. “Tomorrow night I’m all yours.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#dean archer #dean archer x reader #chicago med #one chicago #steven weber

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wishjacked · 9 hours

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Happy #WebcomicDay!! :D

This year we're celebrating the process of making pages... so below the cut I've got a bunch of pictures sharing how I go about making pages of my evil post-apocalyptic workplace sitcom, Cargo!! :D

So! My process!!

Writing-> I think sometimes there's pressure to "write" your comic a certain way, I see people talking about script format and stuff a lot. That really doesn't work for me, though! I write my "first draft" script in short scenes on scrap paper, in whatever order they come to me. Sometimes a scene will just be one or two lines, and then a little description of what I want to happen in the rest of the scene.

Later I type the scene up, and write the "connective tissue" that fits between the disjointed scenes so they all flow together like they ought. I don't do page breaks or even character tag or action notes hahahaha I like it to be as BASIC as POSSIBLE so it's easy to edit. And since I'm the person drawing it I can almost always remember who's supposed to be saying what lmao

I edit a lot, but the most major editing is also probably the last bit... when I letter my pages usually I realize "they would never say that" and so I end up rephrasing everything. My art brain is sometimes waaaaay better at phrasing hahaha. Like you can see in the finished page for this script I rewrote like basically all of it, and actually went back to the original "sketch" script in a lot of places.

Thumbnailing-> my thumbs are really big, I draw them with markers on printer paper and keep them in a binder!! I like to thumb scenes in batches and I also usually write my dialogue on them, just so I can read through them before (and while) I draw to get a feel for how the pacing works. :)

youtube

Sketching-> OH sketching is also really hard for me! I don't have a good visual imagination so it's really important for me to make sure I have good references. Last year I was especially focusing on setting.

My comic is set in Florida. I'm lucky in that I used to live there and still go back to visit sometimes, so sometimes I can gather my own reference images! But more often I start on Google Maps or Zillow, trying to find buildings that have interesting features or the right kind of "look" for what I want. I'll also look up other interesting elements, my comic is set in a post-apocalypse and I'll research home gardening and things like that which people would probably have.

For example, in this set in chapter 7, I used Google Maps images, photo references of indoor hydroponic gardening, and like, 90's-00's hacker computer setups haha. Also my BFF Roomstyler.com, where you can make 3d house interiors haha!!

Lineart-> I LOVE lineart it is my favorite!!!! I sketch and ink two pages at a time, and it usually takes somewhere between 10-12 hours to do both steps.

I actually think my art looks best when it's just lineart... but I think my STORY is better with color, like it makes it clearer and easier to read and it has a better atmosphere HAHA.

Colors-> I think it usually takes me 4-6 hours to do 2 pages (I haven't timed myself as consistently as I time my lineart and sketching). I have a big file with small copies of my previous pages that I color drop from, and my characters are all flats only. The limited palette that I use is also really handy, it streamlines coloring a LOT.

Finishing Touches-> aka I steal mercilessly from my one true love, my internet home, the beautiful and blessed Wikimedia Commons

I put lots of overlay layers on my art! I like textures so having some strange little textures or pictures on things makes my art feel a lot more finished to me.

And finally my very most favorite ✨finishing touch✨ is the bright colored/patterned gutters that I use. Here are some of my favorites that I've made and used in the past!

And that's all!! I hope you guys have a very happy Webcomics Day and find lots and lots of wonderful new things to read!!!

#WebcomicDay #Webcomic Day #my art #webcomics #webcomicsday

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hxhhasmysoul · 3 days

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Did u see these posts: https://linkspooky.tumblr.com/post/744136721881530368/hello-friend-i-thought-id-use-your-post-as-a . https://linkspooky.tumblr.com/post/744086250489774080/so-i-was-genuinely-surprised-last-week-when-we ? Honestly, I think am starting to dislike the Megumi & Killua comparisons more than I ever maybe did the Killua & Gojo ones (like I also saw a comment saying Megumi is smarter than Killua, and I don't think Megumi is dumb, but like how?). I'm not saying Megumi is a bad character, but he is not (imo) better-written or have a better arc than Killua (who has one of the best arcs ever).

P.S: Off topic from me complaining about Killua getting compared to JJK characters (which I was mostly neutral towards doing, but now, I might be becoming a bit less neutral). Great and pretty Palm, LeoPika, and Illumi's art u just reblogged!

The biggest problem with what that person writes is the value judgement. I don’t necessarily disagree with the stuff they say about Megumi, at least they see that Gojou forced Megumi into being a sorcerer and that’s rare. They also seem to acknowledge Megumi’s character flaws, even if I don’t exactly agree with every argument they make about him. And I especially don’t agree with how they compare Tsumiki to Alluka.

They are right that Megumi tries to use others, Tsumiki and then Yuuji as justifications for his existence. And it’s true Killua uses the people he loves as a crutch because he has no goals of his own, because all his life the goals of others were forced onto him and he’s really lost at the beginning of HxH.

The difference is that Killua’s relationships with Gon, Alluka and Nanika are very deep, he also grows close with others: Ikalgo, Palm, Bisky and Leorio, there’s clear potential for him developing a friendship with Canary. Killua also projects to some extent onto Gon, and onto Alluka too. But that’s something everyone does. Killua does it to a normal extent, the Gon in Killua’s mind is partially imagined and greatly coloured by Killua’s crush, but Killua quite often actually understands how Gon feels, or accurately reads the situation between them. The things he tells Gon don’t make Gon worse because they feed into Gon’s issues.

He does enable Gon, and he doesn't know how to help Gon after Kite's death, but his presence still helps Gon in those moments. He doesn't make gon better but he doesn't make him worse either, they are just two kids who are in a situation that's just too much for them to handle.

When Killua tries to enforce what he thinks is best onto Alluka and Nanika, Alluka puts him in his fucking place and he very clearly understands what he did wrong. Because he’s capable of seeing Alluka as a real person, he can see past the image of Alluka that exists in his head.

Megumi’s relationships with Tsumiki and Yuuji are superficial, bordering on parasocial. The things Megumi tells Yuuji make Yuuji contract Megumi’s cog mentality. Megumi acts like he knows shit, how he's very smart and Yuuji buys into that, because Megumi reads a lot and knows long words. And Megumi also buys into that, and thinks he can talk with authority about who's to blame for what. Or which people deserve to be saved.

Megumi barely spends time with Yuuji in an active way, he just passively tags along and frowns and sighs, and he downright rejects Tsumiki and everything she stood for when she was conscious. He’s upset that Yuuji lashes out at Hana because Yuuji is mourning Nobara so fucking deeply. Megumi is taken aback because he never mourned Nobara, he never tried to get close to her, but more importantly, despite him thinking he cares about Yuuji, he has absolutely no clue how Yuuji is feeling. He projects his own idea as to who Yuuji is onto Yuuji. Yuuji the good selfless person who needs to be protected by Megumi but not engaged with, not reached out to. He has no idea who Yuuji really is or how he feels, nor does Megumi care. He never cared what Tsumiki felt or who she really was, and the whole situation with the bridge showed very clearly that Tsumiki led a life of her own and Megumi didn’t even know, and likely it wasn’t a completely pure and uwu life. But to Megumi what matters are his own made up versions of these two people.

And this is actually okay, these are flaws and they are a consistent characterisation. I don’t like Megumi much but I will defend his right to be flawed, I will defend him from all the Gojou fans who pretend Gojou didn’t make a child soldier out of a little kid. Or who pretend that it isn’t clear that Gojou left Tsumiki and Megumi to fend for themselves in their daily life and just borrowed Megumi to force him to work so the two kids had a place to live and other necessities. And I will defend Megumi from anyone who tries to deny him his right to a fucking mental breakdow.

But what they write about Killua is extremely shallow, the mentions of Gon and Yuuji, and the paragraph about Maki, those are downright upsetting. They show very clearly that they will write whatever needed to prop up their fav. And I really don’t get what drives people to do this kinda stuff.

They honestly undermine their arguments (some very solid) about how nice Megumi’s arc is, because they can’t just argue their case. No, they need to bring another character into it and attack that character. It’s always a foolish thing to do. I get that they might not like Killua as much or think he’s overrated. But Killua was not needed for their argument. Everything they get wrong about Killua weakens their arguments about Megumi. And Killua’s relationships with his close ones really highlight the issue with Megumi’s. And the person never addresses that.

I think I’ve seen maybe their posts or similar posts about Megumi, not exactly comparing him to Killua, but for example posts about how he’s the true MC of JJK, where Megumi’s fans argued about how complex Megumi is and how there’s nothing to Yuuji. And this person’s posts are just written to prop up Megumi by dismissing and discrediting other characters.

The JJK fandom is vicious to most characters that aren’t sexymen. Megumi is much more liked in the fandom than Yuuji, but yeah, one can consider him disliked if one compares him to how people are about Gojou, Getou, Nanami, Touji, Chousou, Higuruma, Sukuna or even Kusakane, Shu and Ino. Also as they rightly notice Megumi isn’t overpowered so he gets a lot of shit, something Yuuta never gets. As to Maki, this person clearly doesn’t give a shit about her, so not only they very clearly didn’t pay attention to Maki post Mai’s death, they also have no idea what the fandom says about Maki.

They also write as if the way the fandom treats Megumi is unique, when Yuuji gets that far more and over everything. Even Sukuna got that just because in the battle of JJK sexymen, Gojou truly is the strongest and his fans are fucking rabid and allergic to canon and the text of JJK.

Gege’s love for HxH somehow creates the need in the JJK fans to compare the two stories and their respective characters, and I’ve never seen it done right. In this case it really just cheapens what they were trying to say.

#answering asks #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #hxh #hunter x hunter #killua zoldyck #thank you for the ask #sorry it took me so long to answer #i'm slowly going through my asks

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sokkastyles · 1 day

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Zutara Month Day 11: "Mom and Dad are Fighting Again"

CW in the tags, and Ozai being Ozai, although just a brief mention.

They'd been arguing about some stupid thing. The color of the curtains in what used to be known as the war room. Zuko's advisors had flooded him with samples of various shades of crimson fabric, while Aang had taken it upon himself to list various new functions for what he had dubbed the "peace" room (just doesn't have the same ring to it, Sokka had muttered), when Toph had leaned over and put her hand in front of her mouth in a dramatic imitation of a whisper while she spoke in a sing-song manner in Suki's ear, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Mom and Dad are fighting again!"

"Toph!" Katara whirled around. "This is serious. If Zuko wants to rebrand himself as the people's firelord," she glared across the room at him as she spoke, "he can't have curtains the color of blood! A softer apple blush would look lovely here, with a bit of cream and gold, unless someone doesn't think it's manly enough of course..." she trailed off, clearly anticipating his biting comeback.

"Wow, you really are ready to move in with him, aren't you?" Toph said. "I was only joking, but man..."

Katara sputtered at that, then found her voice. "Toph! Zuko!"

Zuko didn't hear her. He stood, hearing the echo of Toph's words, spoken years ago by a much younger girl as she'd grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the open palace window adjacent to the garden where he and his sister had been playing.

"Come on," Azula had said, insistent, tugging on his sleeve, as Zuko let himself be pulled along. He always did. "Come see," she said, and her grin made him feel something open up in the pit of his stomach as his feet followed her. "Mom and dad are fighting again."

Zuko found himself halfway down an empty, sunlit corridor before he realized it, his stiff and pointed firelord shoes echoing on the marble floor. Stumbling, he reached for a latch, pushing open a floor-length window and stepping out into the garden, overgrown now, but still the same place where he and his sister had played as children.

He didn't know how long he had been there before he heard Katara behind him.

"It's beautiful out here," she said, her voice soft with reverence.

"It's not what it used to be," he said, without looking at her. It was true. They had more to do to make things look presentable than just the curtains. His father hadn't cared much for beautiful things, after Lady Ursa had left.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, and he could feel her behind him. "Look, I'm sorry about the stupid curtains."

"You never have to apologize to me." He wanted to turn around, to reach out to her, to hold her. But he just...didn't know how to. All he could think about was his sister pulling him towards that open window.

Finally he spoke, kneeling to examine a single yellow lily that had somehow grown out of a bed of weeds, the only spot of sunshine in a sea of red. So much damned red. Katara was right, it was reminiscent of nothing short of blood, and they'd had more than enough of that, hadn't they?

"My dad," he said. "Hurt my mom. He didn't...hit her or anything. And I was too young to know, really. But he hurt her."

"Zuko, I'm so sorry," she said, nearly whispering, as if they might break some sort of fragile silence between them.

And here she was, apologizing again, for something he had done. "I just...don't want that to be us," he said, finally, turning to look at her.

"Us?" She eyed him quizzically.

Zuko looked down again, afraid that he had misread things. Of course he wasn't as bad as Toph, he didn't think Katara actually wanted to move in with him, but he had thought... "Unless there's not...an us?" He studied her expression, waiting for her to laugh, or get angry again, but she didn't.

Instead, she reached for his hand. "I'd like there to be an us," she said quietly.

"Me too," he said, entwining his fingers with her cool ones, and when he looked up at her, he saw warmth in her eyes.

#zutaramonth #zutara #zutara month 2024 #mom and dad are fighting again #my fic #domestic violence cw

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alieinthemorning · 2 days

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Always Your Mother [Fushiguro Megumi]

Content: Implied /Referenced Character Death, Adopted Fushiguro Megumi, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Mother's Day, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Related to: An Addition to Change | Fleeting Adolescences (Required Reading)

Header: @/nikki101pistar on Twitter

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Today was Mother’s Day. Your first ever Mother’s Day’s. To a child that wasn’t biologically yours, nor were you sure if he even considered you something akin to a mother. You felt more like a live-in babysitter, not even a nanny. So, you didn’t really have your hopes up, but—

“How did you burn the water?” You could hear the scowl on Megumi’s face.

“I didn’t burn it!” As well as the look of dismay that Satoru always had when Megumi said something harsh.

“It smells burnt.”

“Water can’t be burnt, Megumi.”

“And somehow you did it.”

You peeked around the corner, eyes widened at the scene before you. Simply put…it was a mess. There was food everywhere (yes, everywhere), there was black smoke coming from a pot on the stove, and both of them were covered head to toe in flour.

As much as you should have been frustrated with them (or at least exasperated, knowing that all of this needed to be cleaned sooner rather than later). But you couldn’t, you just couldn’t.

“Can you not see the black smoke coming from that pot, Satoru? Of course, it’s brunt.”

Satoru jumped, head whipping around. “H-honey?” His eyes flicked between you, and the mess. “Now, before you get mad—”

Megumi hopped off the footstool he was standing on, rushing to your side. “See! Even mom agrees! Only Satoru is dumb enough to burn water!”

You froze. Satoru gasped. Megumi looked between the two of you.

He pulled back. “...oh, do you…do you not want me to call you mom?”

You dropped to your knees, meeting him at eye level. “I was just surprised, is all. I’m…I’m actually really happy that you called me ‘mom’, Megumi.”

“Really? So, I can keep calling you mom?” Your heart hurt at the tears that were gathering in his eyes.

You smiled, opening your arms to him. “Of course, baby.”

Once his little arms wrapped around you as best as they could, all of your fears and doubts from the morning washed away. You were an important figure in Megumi’s life. Someone he felt close enough to call “Mom”.

Someone who he loved.

“So…” Satoru started, but Megumi immediately shut him down.

“No.”

He chuckled. “Had to try it.”

You and Megumi were still not talking. You had a fight, or rather, Megumi was upset with you for interfering in his life. However, you couldn’t just not. You were called to pick him up last week for fighting (although it was more akin to straight up beating people up). You tried to talk to him in the car about it, but he just kept shutting you down.

You didn’t understand, but he refused to help you understand.

You didn’t need to worry about it, but how could you not when he was bruised and bloody.

It was none of your business.

But you thought he was your son…unless that changed with time as well.

“Leave me alone!”

The force behind the door slam caused the car to rock harshly, but that didn’t shake you because—

“He called me by my name…” How long had it been since he’d used your actual name? When did it change? Just now or long before?

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel. You slumped forward, breath catching in your throat.

You were trying your best. You really were.

…but maybe you weren’t

Maybe he would have been better off with actual parents, not two young adults who don’t know what a good parent even was.

Maybe you’re the reason why he’s like this.

Yes…

You were the problem.

You decided to stay out of sight for Mother’s Day. Much to Satoru’s chagrin, but he knew not to push you or Megumi, so he let the two of you be.

For now.

Mother’s Day became a simpler affair over the years. A card, flowers or chocolate, and maybe a night out with the family. Slowly, but surely, Mother’s Day was just becoming the second Sunday in May for you again.

“Sorry for not getting you anything today, mom.” Megumi apologized as he approached you as you were lounging on the couch.

You waved him off. “It’s fine. You coming home to me every day is enough.”

He smiled, moving to leave, but you grabbed his wrist. “That doesn’t mean that you don’t have to pay the tax.”

He groaned, but leaned down regardless. “Why do we still do this…”

“Because I said so.” You gave him a peck on the check. “Now go to your room, and get a good night’s rest, young man.”

He chuckled. “Yes, mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, Megumi.”

What was Mother’s Day without a child?

Today was the second Sunday in May.

Just a day before you lost him.

:)c (even more ominous than usual)

I wonder if we'll see each other again on Father's Day.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi & reader #implied character death

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vermillionsails · 2 days

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THE WANDERER part 1

Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x Reader

synopsis: The reader aka Bullseye gets run out of her family settlement to find an old friend. what will happen when they finally see each other after 6 years?

WARNINGS ⚠️: Cooper Howard/ The ghoul x female reader afab reader, DNI IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GO ON GIT. eventual smut, adult language, fallout show, and game cannon violence. age gap reader is 22 if you're not, pretend.

I try to keep the description of the reader neutral only things that are talked about are the reader's age, teeth, smaller hands, and eventually intimate parts. I do not own the rights to Lucy or Cooper Howard or the fallout setting. the plot and town characters are the only things I made up. Time skips are in this at least this first part anyway. dream sequence as well it will be in bold so you can tell and see the difference.

A/N: I've only seen the first episode and clips, and interviews of the characters cause Freevee only has the first episode but, the brain worms are still activated for this man! 😩

youtube

I know it's not from the actual Fallout soundtrack but this song fits Cooper's vibe. A couple of 'I don't know how but they found me' songs do honestly but enjoy!!

It's been two days since you had to run from your settlement. Your grandma had been the mayor since the bombs first dropped. It's not surprising that there has been a desire for a regime change. She packed your scavenging bag while you raided Lucky's trading post during the “mob” meeting. Ray the militia captain and his son Reggie decide that there needed to be new leaders. Reggie was meaner than a death claw and happened to make a point by killing 6 of Betty's brahman and her husband George when they tried to stand up for your grandmother. Two nights ago Reggie and Ray came for you and your grandma. She sent you out into the wasteland to seek Mr.Howard. He’s the only person who's meaner than the father and son who are trying to take over your settlement. Lucky for you he was friends with your grandma. He would always blow into town for a week once a month. Your grandma being a ghoul and founding the settlement for other ghouls and their families encouraged him to feel a slight amount of ease. He always called you Bullseye since you've been in the sniper tower since you were 13. After that, everyone has called you bullseye you imagine he’ll call you that again but, you're not certain he hasn't been in town for 6 years. You're 22 now, the only thing you can do is hope. you've been hoping for two days now. All you have now is the pack, everything you've scavenged for the past two days, and Shroud your dog. Your grandma said the kind of dog Shroud was called before the bombs dropped was a rottweiler. You were able to find armor for him so he could tag along. You were thankful for it honestly you wouldn't doubt that Reggie would shoot him. So here you are in the waists with Shroud lying across your lap. You had set up camp against an old rusted-out van. You had walked through Filly and found out that Mr. Howard had shot up the place and killed a farmer and his son’s a little bit past it. You weren't surprised, a lot of people were ruthless out here you have been multiple times in sniper tower. It was the first place people walked up to and asked to come into the settlement. You had a microphone and speaker system to talk to them. Unfortunately, most of them ended up being raiders in disguise and you had to put a bullet into them. As far as you're concerned, you're on the right path. Moving shroud you and him decide to sleep in the van hidden away instead of outside in the open. You put out the campfire and roll out the bed roll from your pack and lay down. Shroud splaying out next to you as your eyes start to close and drift. It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours before Shroud was lying on top of you trying to nudge you awake as gunfire and a creature roared outside. Grabbing the handle on his armor you tap his nose with your finger to signal play dead. You listen as the gun fire continues and shouting you make out 2 voices at least plus the creature. It lasts for 20 more minutes before it goes silent and voices talk at a normal level. You can hear two people argue before footsteps get closer to the van. Very slowly you reach for the pistol strapped to your leathers as it gets closer. As your hand gets to the handle you hear a gun cock and a man whistle.

“Figured you were following us, smart hiding.” you look at him as he stands in front of the van entrance pistol aimed at Shroud's back. You recognize the voice, his drawl and cowboy hat knock the memory of Mr. Howard forward. “Mr. Howard it's me bullseye!” You hold both your hands up in a surrender praying Shroud doesn't leap or make a sudden movement. He cocks his head as he looks at you and lowers his gun somewhat. “Bullseye huh? That really you?” You swallow and nod “Yes sir it's me. Grandma sent me to look for you were in trouble.” he tuts as he puts his gun away disappointed he didn't get to shoot anything from what you can tell. “Considering you're the only person who calls me Mr. Howard I suppose that is you, bullseye.” he waits for a beat scowling and growling lightly “Well come on now girly, we got some catching up to do and I ain't got all night.” you give Shroud two pats as he gets off of you and sits at the van entrance waiting for you to come out. “Yes sir Mr. Howard.” scrambling you get up pack your bedroll and walk over to Howard and a Valutie? You've never seen one before. The blue and gold hurt your eyes even in the moonlight. She smiles and waves. “Hi, I'm Lucy nice to meet you.” giving an awkward wave back you nod to her. “I’m Bullseye my actual name is y/n.” she smiles at you genuinely its a rare occurrence out here. “That's a nice name…why do they call you bull-” she gets cut off by Cooper. “I only needed you to help me kill that fuckin thing Don't make me tie you back up.” you give her a sorry half smile before turning to Cooper. “I'll make it as fast as I can Mr. Howard. Ray and Reggie have built up a coup against Grandma they’ve killed 5 people, and some of our Brahmin. Grandma sent me to find you after I escaped two days ago. I have a package she wanted me to give you in case you needed incentive.” sits down next to you while sharpening a knife and purses his lips. “Smart woman, what did she send with you?” turning to unzip your pack you can see Lucy look in astonishment that he’s being somewhat civil to you. You pull it out. It's in a small foot locker-like box. The metal dings as the things inside rattle as you hand it to him. “10 different chems, two large Brahmin steaks, all the caps she had left, ammo, and a couple of stimpacks.” you list everything your grandma told you too as he takes a look at everything inside taking a long look at the top of the lid before closing it. “I'll do it. This is a nice incentive y'all, must be in some real bad trouble darlin.” the fluttering feeling when he calls you darlin quickly dissipates as you feel your chest squeeze as you look down at the dirt and sand.

“Yeah, it's bad Mr. Howard. Grandma might not….might not be alive when we go back.” he hums as he goes back to sharpening his knife. “So what are you gonna do if we go back and she isn't alive or worse.” You look at him for a moment as you think. “Kill them, have someone else be mayor, and let Doe and Jericho be the new snipers.” he does a big strike against the sharpening stone. Sending a spark off to the ground. It makes the mix of sand and dirt pop and sizzle at your feet. “You don’t wanna be mayor?” you can feel the sadness wrap around your chest and squeeze again. “N-no I'm not, not as skilled as grandma she could barter and stop a fight in 2 seconds of each other.” he chuckles as he finally looks at you a smile tugging at the right side of his lips. “Yeah, Sue was always good at calming people down.” you chuckle at his sentiment as he points at you with his knife. “Now that I know the situation think you can help me dress that deathclaw over there?” you see it splayed out in the dirt lifeless the horns digging into the ground. It’s about 6 feet at least smaller than the adults you've seen. “Is it a bounty?” Cooper grunts and nods “Yup, it's the last of a group a nearby farmer wanted gone.” He grabs the bounty paper from his duster pocket and hands it to you. “Fuckin things kept eating everything including his wife.” you look over the bounty. 500 caps rewarded for the head. You nod “That's a good bounty.” Lucy clears her throat and raises her hand the pipboy light almost blinds you. “I helped do I get some of the caps?” you see Cooper raise an eyebrow ridge at her. “Put your damn arm down your blinding bullseye! and I already told you, you're getting 20 and then you’re on your own. If I see you again it’ll be too soon and I'll shoot you.” you keep quiet as you see them argue with each other. “I used 10 lock-joint syringes on that thing.” Cooper laughs “Yeah those are cheap to make I know. You're getting 20 and I won't kill you that's it.” you can see Lucy huff and sink back into the spot she was in earlier. He looks back at you after a couple of minutes. “Can you help me dress it?” you nod your head and grab the knife from your boot. “Yeah, I can help.” he gets up and walks over to it his duster flowing in the breeze like one of his old movies your grandma used to tell you about. “Atta girl let's get to it.” you get up and walk to it. The bottom of your boots goes from crunching the dirt to thudding and squelching from the blood-soaked dirt pooling from its body. You adjust the green baker's cap on your head and kneel next to its torso.

“Do you want me to start at the back of the neck or the tail?” Cooper grunts as he works to saw off the head. “Start at the tail less tension while I do this.” you nod and move further down. After a few minutes of making a deep enough incision, you get the muscle and start cutting towards the head. Its skin splits into two halves as you keep yourself steady. It smells like dust and blood. Part of you wonders if the death claws think that you humans smell as strange as you think it does. Getting lost in your thoughts you hear Cooper clear his throat. You stop and look over at him. “You tune out too easily, could get you killed.” you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry, Mr. Howard I'll be better in the morning. D- Did you say something?” his eyes scan you before he speaks again. “Yeah, I did, stop when you get to it’s sides. Need to cut off its hands.” your face heats up again when you feel his gaze on you. “Y-yes sir.” he makes a chuckle-like sound when you respond to him. It's a couple of hours later after dressing the death claw together. Lucy, shroud and the dog that Cooper has let follow him have all fallen asleep. You wrap up the last piece of meat when you notice. “So Mr. Howard, where is this bounty at?” he shoves most of it into his saddle bags as he looks at you. “3 days walk from here, gonna tag along? Could use that eye of yours.” tossing the last piece of meat you nod. “Yeah, it'll give me time to think of a plan.” he makes a heh sound a smirk playing on his lips. “A plan huh?” you raise an eyebrow more curious than anything. “Yeah I mean, plans are good right?” he nods as he stuffs the last of the meat into his saddle bag. “They're good but, have you ever made one before sweetheart?” part of you knows the nickname is being used derogatory maybe even a bit patronizing but, it still makes your stomach flip. “Once, we had to make a run to a superduper mart for supplies. I got us in and out.” you sit cross-legged on the dirt and adjust your hat before cleaning your knife. Cooper moves closer to start sawing off the hands. “Well, this is different than a superduper mart. How many men are on their side?” you start to wipe the blade with a rag from your pack as you think. “About 20…no one else is joining them, but Ray trained all of them,” you say quietly you know he’s gonna scoff at you. He stops and laughs “Oh sugar you ain't gonna make it!” you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up. “I–I'm not going in guns blazing if that's what you think i-i…”

he cuts you off putting his hand up at you. You can see how the radiation burns swirl and carve into his skin making a pattern. “The only possible way of you getting back in there and saving Sue is by sneaking in or…” he smiles as he looks at you. Your stomach flips at it you can't tell if it's a good flip or not but, you know what he’s thinking. “Or?” your voice is small as you ask. “I take you as hostage and barter to get you back in there. They want y'all for something they'll come looking.” swallowing you look at him a bit apprehensive “You're gonna take me as a bounty aren't you?” he points his knife at you “Bingo!, don't worry I won't tie you up yet though.” he shoots a wink as he goes back to sawing off the hand. You're not quite sure what to do with yourself after that. Your heart starts to beat a little faster as you think if you like that or not. “O-okay, so we'll pretend I'm Bounty and sneak in.” he whistles as he gets the handoff finally. “Yup I'll bring you and will take it from there but, we got to wait until they come for you. When they do I gotta be a little rough to sell it. you understand don’t ya?” you nod, feeling your core beat a bit at thinking how rough he'll have to be. “Y-yeah I understand Mr. Howard.” he hums when you answer. “Good now get some sleep like the rest. We got a long walk starting tomorrow.” You finish wiping the knife off and put it back in its strap. “Yes sir.” he waves you off towards the small fire Lucy made after the deathclaw got taken down. “Night bullseye,” he says lowly in a gruff voice. You give him a slight smile “Night Mr. Howard.” getting towards the fire you unroll your bed roll again and get in. The two-day trek to find Cooper setting into your bones as your eyes flutter shut. A dream starts to play in your mind as you drift off quickly. Music plays to the beat of hooves beating the ground. You see a figure of a man on a horse riding into the red and orange of the sky as you try to move towards him. It's like you are moving in slow motion as you try to reach out to the figure as he and the horse drift toward you. A cloud of raised dust swirls into the sky as it storms around you and the rider. His figure and the beast he's on get closer as they rush to you. Their features never clear up they stay smoke and shadow-like as they skid to a stop in front of you. His hand unfurls from the reigns and out towards you. Like a switch going off the orange and red becomes blue and purple as your stomach flips and you start to sink into the sand. Scrambling you reach out to the figure's hand but your hand passes

through him. The hand drifted and parted like fog on water after summer rain. As you sink darkness falls over you and you land in water. It's murky and dusty blue as it ripples around your waist. You watch it for a moment as the water starts to ripple faster turning into wake waves as they crash into your chest the coldness washing over you. As you look up a roar is heard as a mirelurk queen rises out of the deepest part of the water. You go to run but your eyelids start to flutter as the dream fades. You wake up your eyesight bleary as you sit up kicking the blanket part of your bed roll. Shroud groans as he feels your legs move. He must have moved over to you during the night. He gives you a look over his shoulder and huffs before laying back down his big head laying on his paws. “Sorry buddy, morning,” saying it softly you give his head a scratch before stretching and yawning. It's quiet before you hear Cooper's voice, it makes you jump hearing it. “Morning sleeping beauty, bout time you woke up.” he has a smirk on his lips from seeing you jump. Putting a hand on your chest to soothe yourself you mutter a bit louder than you mean to. “God you scared me.” he chuckles at you hearing you mutter. “Didn't think I could do that to you daring, good to know.” your heart starts to beat a little faster not because you were startled now. You laugh softly trying to play it off as you look seeing the sun just about to come up, orange and lavender painting the sky. “H-How long did I sleep for?” he kisses his teeth and purses his lips as he thinks. “About 6 hours Give or take but, we gotta go before it gets too damn hot so up and at 'em.” giving a nod you get up and roll your bedroll back up and stuff it into your pack. You give Shroud some water and crack open a can of dog food. Letting him chow down as you check and strap his armor on. You helped Lucy wake up and pack up as Cooper grumbled at her. After a few more minutes everyone is on the road both dogs and the 3 of you. It's hot and dry as the continuous crunch of sand and dirt gets under your boots. You can see heat waves ooze towards the sky and winds grab and throw sand around dusting you and getting into your eyes. Its monotony for hours on end sends you into a haze almost lulling you into a sleep. You’ll never know how the creatures here don’t die of heat exhaustion alone. Another hour goes by as Cooper stops raising his fist in the air to stop you and Lucy. His head cocking to the side as he listens for something you stay still waiting trying to listen as well but you can't pick anything up. His senses are much more sensitive than yours. It takes only a few seconds before you hear something scrambling up a dune toward the 3 of you. The top of its head peaks up from the dune. Cooper's head snaps in its direction. He mutters on thing “You gotta be fuckin kidding me!”

#@leh2393 #@rosecentaur1916 #fanfic #reader insert #fallout tv show #fallout series #cooper howard #the ghoul #Youtube

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