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lakesparkles · 8 months

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Longing (chapter 2 - bjhm fanfiction)

(I don't know how to put titles on mobile, in case it looks weird)

Anyways, I finally finished editing the second chapter of my AU fanfic!

You can read it on google docs or under the cut:

Longing

Diane's routine remains exactly the same, except for the constant presence of Mr. Peanutbutter

—

(I think it would be nice to say, as a warning, that there are a lot of reflections about emotional cheating in the first half of this chapter. But everything will be alright, you’ll understand when you read it ^^’)

"I miss you" the words came out of Mr. Peanutbutter's mouth quickly, as if he would lose courage if he didn't say them in that exact second.

"You saw me, like, last night." Diane shrugged and moved the phone to her other ear, already starting to feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

"I know... Yeah." He laughed to himself, his voice losing its serious tone when he completed. " I need to go back to recording, ehrrrr... now! See you later, Diane!"

Did he really need to say her name like that every time?

"Bye, Mr Peanutbutter."

After disconnecting the call, she continued standing in the same place, trying to regain her concentration.

Texas might be even hotter than California, but even that didn't save it from certain freezing nights. At least it didn't come close to that freezing hell Chicago called winter. It was funny, right? How many places has she once called home?

That thought got her feet moving again, walking down the middle of the street. It had just gotten dark, which meant that was the time her eyes still hadn't gotten used to how bright the shop windows were. Everything got her attention. Her legs shivered in the icy wind, and soon her eyes were caught by the jeans in the store next to her, now being twice as interesting.

The cafeteria next door looked warm and comfortable, the walls painted dark browns and oranges. She was almost dragged inside, only stopping herself because she knew Guy was waiting for her at home - she imagined it well: he would be on the sofa with his feet on the table and the sketchbook in his lap. He would flash his typical smile when he saw her coming, and Diane would quickly remove her boots and coat and slip into her warm pajamas. By the time she was out of the shower, he would’ve prepared two mugs of hot chocolate. The two of them would drink in bed, and Diane would hide again among the fur on his neck, even forgetting the cold.

What was a coffee shop next to that?

She quickened her steps, excited.

When her mind returned to place, she was already facing a window again, almost hypnotized. That was certainly a nice coat... If she was going to buy it, it would be in the future. Now, home! This same thought process happened another 20 times until she reached her destination. As soon as she finished climbing the short staircase leading to her front door, she kicked her boots off her feet. She couldn't wait to stop shivering and be able to breathe without blowing a puff of smoke from her mouth.

Her house was quiet and dark, but none of it was too out of character for it. Guy always used to arrive around that time, staying in the room until he stopped being too lazy to do anything else. So Diane walked with calm steps into the room, not surprised by the sight she found:

Her husband had the sketchbook on his lap, but it nearly fell off his knee. He was far more interested in what he was typing on his cell phone, letting out a small chuckle to himself. Only then did he noticed her presence:

"Diane! Babe, it's too cold today, isn't it?"

She didn't need another word to understand the invitation:

"Very…" She mumbled, lazily crawling under the covers beside him. Changing clothes could wait a little while. The bath too. This was the moment she'd been waiting for all day, already feeling her body heat up completely as she made herself comfortable and started rubbing her cheek against Guy's shoulder.

"Do you have any theories about what the movie Mr Peanutbutter is shooting is? He doesn't want to tell me!" Guy commented, with even better humor than usual.

Oh, sure. Mr Peanutbutter.

Diane curled up a little to answer, yawning and stretching her legs out from under the covers one second, only to curl back up like a cat the next.

She couldn't get away from it, could she?

"He didn't tell me anything about it either," she shrugged, "but I think it's kind of obvious."

"It's a horror movie, isn't it!?"

"For sure! I guess it's even a sequel to some other famous franchise."

Guy took that as the confirmation he needed, perking up and getting back to typing. Out of the corner of her eye, Diane caught a few written words: "The Ring 5?"; "It 3?"; "No, I don't think it's this one"; "But it's horror."

Mr Peanutbutter responded at the exact second: "No more guesses!!!", "They'll kill me if this gets out!! :(".

She should stop being so nosy!

Her stomach lurched when she noticed that Guy was already laughing again.

"You and my ex husband having any intimacy was not in my bingo of bizarre things that would happen to me" she tried to make a joke to lighten the mood… for herself.

"Well, he's here all the time now."

Yeah, she couldn't deny it.

The presence of that yellow dog became a constant another time, and that wasn't something you could prepare for.

During the last few years, she found herself thinking about Mr Peanutbutter from time to time. Usually it happened on nights when she couldn't sleep and lost control of her thoughts. Or when everything went bad again, and her mind found confusing and desperate solutions for any kind of comfort.

She had already accepted that guilt was a feeling that would always accompany her when she was around her ex-husband.

Now the longing mixed and started several other reflections.

Since she'd moved from California, she'd learned what it was like to genuinely miss someone. A faint smile broke out when she saw a rare selfie posted by Princess Carolyn. She perked up every time Todd and Maude made a sudden visit, bringing with them another chaotic day that she was growing increasingly unaccustomed to.

With Mr. Peanutbutter... It was a little different. With him everything always was.

Every time he texted her or dropped by her house to watch another obscure movie with Guy... Diane learned something new about longing. It was like she was living her story with someone for a second time.

She would never forget the time she met the dog. She was walking alone in her apartment, completely silly, while the two chatted on MySpace. He was kind and happy and so different from anyone else she had ever met. Gradually, she began to open up more to him, who always seemed interested in listening and praising her and making her feel good in her own skin. It was an almost addictive feeling, her head feeling light as she felt a small hope inside of her.

Conversations turned to dates, and Diane finally accepted that a celebrity was really interested in someone like her. Someone, in general, was interested in her. Yeah, it was a good thing to think about. When she realized it, she had already moved in with him and lived the ten most bittersweet years of her existence, in which she was relieved that they were over, but which she didn't regret for a second.

Things weren't so different these days, which was why she was worried. Part of her -the most selfish one- almost begged for the shooting of that shitty movie to end so that she would never have to look that labrador in the eyes again. Because she didn't know how to react anymore every time Mr Peanutbutter complimented her new hairstyle or said he missed her.

It was an old feeling. So old it fooled her into thinking it was something new. And that made her nervous.

She let her head fall back onto Guy's shoulder, who was still distracted by his messages, seeming to be having the conversation of his life. What would he do if he knew what she was thinking? She thought it was time to accept a truth about herself, letting all these feelings hurt as much as they should:

It didn't matter if she was talking about Mr Peanutbutter or Guy: she had never been a very good wife...

•∆•

Things were always easier after acceptance. This was the last phase, above all.

Now she opened the door when Mr. Peanutbutter came to visit after the shooting, greeting him with a comment or a joke. He smiled every time, his eyes glued on her and the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. In the background, she could hear Guy saying how he had prepared cookies - "with no chocolate!"

On second thought, maybe she and Guy were bored before that. The adrenaline of a new city had long since worn off, and they didn't have much to worry about outside of work. Guy had been promoted to news anchor, and Diane still had ten months to release the next volume of Ivy Tran. It was almost inevitable how long she took to write, spending most of her days boringly watching TV, walking around or dozing on the couch until her husband got home.

With Mr Peanutbutter there most nights now, she at least had new information to occupy her mind:

"Everything went wrong today, not even if we had recorded a sequel to 2012 by Roland Emmerich it would have been so catastrophic!" The dog commented as he deliberately shook his shoulders, heading to sit on the sofa (feeling as much at home as he could).

Intrigued, Diane followed, going beside him and leaning her arm on the back of the sofa.

"What happened?"

"Someone forgot to blow out the candles we were using and WE LOST HALF OF THE SET!" He explained everything by gesturing with his hands. "This should take a couple of weeks to be redone, we'll even have to delete some scenes from today because of continuity."

He would spend more time there then, wouldn't he?

"Wow, that reminds me of when we recorded Philbert" Diane smiled at the memory. "It was almost impossible to have a quiet day.”

"Speaking of Philbert," Guy joined them at that moment, taking the empty spot on the sofa and offering the pot of cookies for both, "I know nowadays the plot holes are more noticeable and some parts haven't aged well... But I'm still sad that it was canceled... And it's kind of weird knowing that I'm now together with two people who worked on the production, yeah.

"You get used to it pretty soon," Diane shrugged, taking a second bite of her cookie.

"And you know what's going to be even weirder?" Mr Peanutbutter laughed as he completed. "When you watch my new movie and realize you couldn't figure out what it was."

"That's it!? No! I still have time! Did you say candles? Something with exorcism then?"

"Nope!"

Diane rolled her eyes, enjoying her seemingly new routine.

The next day, she had helped Guy make lasagna. At the kitchen table, her husband asked:

"It's not supernatural, right? Maybe a slasher movie?"

"It's kind of supernatural, yes," Mr Peanutbutter replied, still with his mouth full.

"Are you kidding? What more options are left?"

"Think a little more~"

The following week, they'd stayed up until midnight watching a few episodes of Mr Peanutbutter's House and Horsin' Around, just laughing and talking a little about the past. Diane increasingly realized how much lighter it was to talk about such matters now, quite different from when she first moved from California. Guy was starting to pick up on their inside jokes, commenting on how Blarn had been a great idea. Diane accepted the compliment, feeling nostalgic.

That same day, the three put on a random documentary, talking until dawn. Diane only woke up—and realized she had fallen asleep in the first place—at 2:00 am, finding it kind of amusing to realize that Mr. Peanutbutter and Guy were doing the same, in a competition of who was in the most uncomfortable position. Asking the dog to go back to the hotel felt wrong, so Diane just woke Guy up and the two of them silently went to their room.

The next morning, after the mess, they had breakfast together, Mr. Peanutbutter taking one of the spare toothbrushes and changing for work in their bathroom, saying goodbye in that stupidly domestic way.

Diane's more selfish side returned, and she almost hoped something would destroy the other half of the set for whatever movie he was shooting.

•∆•

Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You was looping in her head, and for a good reason. She couldn't fall asleep, her thoughts starting to bother her again. Then she kept saying to herself, "nostalgia is a lying bitch and you DON'T miss your life with Mr Peanutbutter. The divorce was the biggest proof of love you ever made for each other."

Yes, that was the truth. Yes Yes Yes. Now she just had to accept it.

To make her point even more clear, she forced herself to remember all the bad times they ever had. All the times he didn't listen, that infuriated her and made her feel terrible about herself and for not getting to be the wife he thought she was.

She also couldn't forget how disastrous and selfish they were together, doing what they'd done to Pickles, only to get nowhere with it.

She certainly didn't miss the fights and the thousands of nights they slept without speaking after yelling at each other.

She just thought so because everything was fine now.

She sighed, shifting her position. Unlike her, Guy was in a deep, peaceful sleep, on his back and snoring softly. Carefully, she brought the back of her hand to his cheek, lightly stroking his fur.

She still loved him. Very very very much. In a way as strong and desperate as she was when she first met him. He was kind, funny, and all the company and comfort she needed in her life.

Diane was confused, and admitting anything in her own head scared her.

But she needed to state the obvious.

She was still in love with Mr Peanutbutter, wasn't she?

•∆•

Now the way was to be angry at him, she realized. It must’ve been her brain's way of not blaming herself so much and pretending that she wasn't about to destroy her whole life all over again.

However, it got so... so difficult when he still showed up on her doorstep every time, tail wagging, another colorful coat and a bottle of expensive wine in hand.

"Something tells me that Guy is going to like it there..." She commented, a light smile involuntarily appearing on her lips.

And she was right. The three of them gathered at the kitchen table again. Diane sipped from her glass, the taste taking her years back. Mr Peanutbutter always bought that same wine for them to drink.

"Tastes like wealth," was the conclusion Guy got, and she laughed because it had been the same as hers.

She missed that, didn't she!?

They watched Hereditary. Guy tried to guess Mr Peanutbutter's movie and failed. At night, when the two were in bed, her husband murmured:

"I know that's how dogs are, but he shouldn't stick his head out the car window... It's dangerous."

Diane smiled.

If she had that routine for even one more day, she would freak out.

Fortunately, that was not what fate had prepared for her.

When she got home the next night, Guy was already there, just like usual. He sat on the sofa, however, something was wrong. She could feel it. She entered the room with some caution, trying to notice what gave her such an impression. It was even easy to know. The TV was off this time, leaving the whole environment in an intimidating silence, mixed with how Guy didn't do anything, just sat there.

When she was close enough, he began to speak:

"I've been waiting for you to arrive," his tone was hard to read. It didn't have much emotion, giving her the awful impression that he must've been rehearsing it in his head while she was gone "we need to talk about something."

Her brain stopped working, going to the past. A few years in the past. "It was good while it lasted". BoJack? BoJack had told her that phrase once, hadn't he? For some reason, it was what was repeated over and over in her thoughts.

"Okay..." She murmured, almost whispering, taking her pose as a child who was about to be scolded. She didn't have much choice but to sit next to him, avoiding eye contact for as long as she could.

She thought she was hiding it well, at least. She didn't even let herself believe that, and this was the hope she was moving forward with... apparently, she wasn't even right about that.

Now her anxiety peaked, feeling her fingertips begin to tingle.

She had almost forgotten what that felt like.

What would become of her now? Would she stay in Houston? Would she go back for another round of small, impersonal apartments? Would it go back exactly where it started, half a lifetime ago?

Or would she try to convince Guy that she could ignore it... and forget about it? - something she would genuinely like to do.

"Look, Diane, I don't even know how to talk about this," Guy continued finally, and Diane struggled to make out the words. Just like her, he didn't look in her direction, "It's going to be kind of weird, okay?"

Maybe she couldn't even stay in Houston. She wouldn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she would have to go back to being Diane and run away to whatever other town that would accept her.

"Okay," she sighed, giving up. "I think I already know what it is."

"You know!?" He looked oddly surprised, almost scared.

Wait.

"What? What... What is it?"

The silence then returned in double. The two stared at each other, their expressions blank and not daring to speak a single word.

Diane ventured:

"Guy?'

He needed yet another few seconds to continue:

"Now I don't have the courage to talk anymore..."

"Don't you dare! What happened, Guy?"

"Nothing!" It was his turn to be defensive. "That's the case, okay? Nothing really happened and I don't mean to suggest that we should break up or anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have every right to be angry, but..."

"With you winding up like that, it's really hard not to be!"

"I don't think there's an easy way to say this."

Then another pause, and now that was the last straw. Diane was so nervous that she could barely feel her hands; her body sweated and she saw white:

"G..." But she was soon interrupted.

"I think I'm in love with Mr. Peanutbutter!"

What?

"What!?"

Now it looked like a challenge to who looked the most terrified, both of them looking like wild animals that would run at any sudden movement.

Diane changed position, almost getting up from the couch:

"Did you just tell me... that YOU are in love with Mr Peanutbutter?" Disproving her theory, saying it out loud didn't make it any more real. Quite the opposite.

"I thought I told you that I was bisexual and that..." He stopped mid-sentence. Normally Guy was someone easygoing and calm, traits that fit her perfectly. Guy always had solutions to any problem, making her feel like she was on the ground every time she needed to.

Now, however, it was like he was about to pass out from embarrassment.

"That's not the problem, of course!" Diane shook her head, trying to control all the trillions of feelings and speak more calmly. "With Mr Peanutbutter, my ex-husband?"

"It's as ridiculous as it sounds," he tried to smile, giving up in the next second. "I wanted to tell you because... I don't know why, it felt right. I swear I never got close to doing anything to him.... I thought you could help me - no, not that! We could think of a solution together. Or not. I don't know."

"I'm a pretty bad person for that."

"Huh?"

"Guess who's in love with Mr Peanutbutter, too?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped, the mood in the room completely changing in an instant. The silence had disappeared and given way to the laughter that now came out.

They stayed like that for a long time, laughing. So much that Diane began to suspect the obvious and how it wasn't because they found the situation funny.

After that came, of course, silence. They stared at each other, and Diane thought the last time she felt so uncomfortable around Guy was when he made her jump out the window to hide it from his son:

"And now...?"

"We admit that we are equally terrible and forgive each other...?" Guy ventured, cocking his head to the side.

"Deal!" She would like to put that behind her, for sure. "But... What about him?"

Now Guy shrugged:

"I don't know that."

They were screwed.

Of course they were.

There wasn't even a chance that this story would end well. But that wasn't the only part that concerned Diane. She felt confused, which left her mind almost blank, not knowing what to think or how to react. Almost as if her life didn't belong to her and she was just watching an episode of TV. And, in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but notice how strangely light she felt. She had gotten so used to carrying that weight that she never even imagined what she would do after that.

Without the guilt and longing, who was she now?

•∆•

Now that she could finally accept it, she let herself enjoy the good parts of the present and the past. When they said that time away from someone was sometimes necessary, they were completely right. The Mr Peanutbutter she lived with now still had all the traits that made him him: an oddly charismatic personality; always praising everyone and trying to be positive, for better or for worse; he still looked kind of distracted, as if he didn't hear her, but he ended up proving the opposite every now and then.

However, his only change was not just the whitish hairs on his muzzle that made him even more endearing: just as she noticed when she first saw him in Houston, it was as if Mr. Peanutbutter had finally matured. He never crossed the line or tried to prove himself to her. He was calmer. Nicer.

She's never forgotten that call she'd had with him one day, years ago, in Chicago. When she suggested that their relationship would probably work with them as they were at the time, Mr Peanutbutter replied that they were only the way they were because of the relationship they once had.

How he had changed. They both had, didn't they?

She asked, every time, if she was right that day. If only they could try a second time. Would everything go back to the way it was before, when the anxiety killed her knowing that they would fight again, practically daily? Or was it closer to the beginning of their relationship, where everything had that rare emotion and she started to feel like she belonged somewhere?

When Mr. Peanutbutter was at her house or they went out with him to see the city, she had to stop herself from kissing him, without saying a word. She liked to imagine that he still felt the same way, having all the same questions but choosing to ignore them for the moment.

If only things were that easy... But at least she wasn't alone. And she could tell Guy all this now, so that he would do the same with his own doubts:

"Wasn't it weird?" He questioned, turning his head on the pillow to face her. "Dating someone so famous, I mean. How did you deal with all his fans? Weren't you jealous?"

"In the beginning, I kind of was," these were such distant memories that she wasn't sure anymore "but I was winning, wasn't I? At least he never gave me the impression that he was going to cheat on me, so I stopped worrying one day."

"Wait, wasn't there something that he cheated on his girlfriend a few years ago? That pug girl, huh?"

Diane's complete silence and Guy's increasingly worried expression indicated that he was starting to connect the dots.

"Ehrrrrr promise not to judge me too much? "Diane asked, smiling sheepishly.

"WAS IT WITH YOU!? Oh dear lord, this is why you want to change the channel when she appears, it all makes so much more sense!"

"What did you think that was the reason?"

"That he had left you for her or something."

"Nah, it was after our divorce. But very close to our divorce, which must have been one of the reasons it happened, now that I stopped to think about it..."

"Diane... I think it must be time for you to tell me the whole story, no?"

"Of my ten years of marriage?"

"As much as you want to tell."

They went to sleep only hours later. Diane didn't try to hide the bad parts, figuring Guy deserved to know what he was getting into. She never thought she could be so honest with him. Maybe she really was past the stage of fear that he would abandon her if he found out who she really was. Instead, he laughed at parts of the story, and only lightly judged her when she deserved it. There was no disgust or heartbreak in his gaze, just pure interest. Obviously she didn't come close to telling everything, not even knowing if that would be possible. But at the end of it all, she was able to return to his arms until they fell asleep. Just like every day for the last few years.

Guy was here to stay.

Diane still wasn't quite used to having company at times as confusing and complicated as this one... But it was something she could get used to.

•∆•

As it was Sunday again, they took the opportunity to go out into the city. Even though it wasn't close to snowing, Houston winters were still quite cold at night. This fact always slipped her mind, until she found herself clutching her coat. She walked closer to Guy, who soon got the message and put his arm around her shoulder to warm her up more.

He had the slight impression that Mr. Peanutbutter watched the scene for a second longer than he should have, but at that point, it could just be her imagination.

The dog walked faster again, his attention going from window to window, with the same admiration of a child:

"The buildings remain my favorite part of here!" He commented, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he turned to them.

"Aren't they going to be part of any scenery in your movie?" Guy questioned. Diane thought that if he didn't talk about it once a day, he would die. "Why haven't they closed any streets for recording yet? Since it needed to be here in Houston?"

Mr Peanutbutter hesitated a few seconds before replying:

"It doesn’t need the street itself."

"I've given up guessing which one it is, okay?"

"Ahhh Guy, come on, just think about the things you..." Then he interrupted himself, his attention being stolen by yet another shop window. Diane couldn't judge him, soon joining him to look at the clothes displayed there.

It was one of those more expensive stores that Diane suddenly had to wean herself off going to. Most of what was on the mannequins were coats and flannel shirts, all with an extra layer of fur, which could only indicate that they were warm.

"I've never seen this jacket in California, I've been wanting to buy it!" Mr Peanutbutter pointed to one in particular: jeans and a medium coppery blue. It didn't look like the clothes he normally wore, but he could easily picture him in it.

Diane had such a terrible moment when she forgot to control herself, the words just coming out of her mouth:

"I'll buy it as a gift for you!"

Guy and he stared at her at the same time, the labrador practically without reaction as he raised his eyebrows:

"You're really lovely for the offer, but I was about to buy it already."

"No!" She was insistent, knowing that now her pride was at stake. "I was wanting to give you a gift anyway," Lie "so you'll have a souvenir when you get back to Los Angeles."

It was almost imperceptible, but his smile faded a little. During that very instant, he looked…disappointed? Maybe sad. That simple demonstration made Diane's heart want to race, everything in her body telling her that she must say something, that this was her chance.

But she obviously continued in the same position, static, letting Mr Peanutbutter mumble:

"Yeah... If you insist, who am I to say no!?"

While Guy was chuckling beside her - he would certainly throw that in her face later, the two had a little personal competition on who would humiliate themselves more in front of the dog - Diane walked into the store with the two of them, only to grab the jacket from the hangers she found and pretend she didn't read the price tag that hung with it. If Guy wanted to murder her after that, it would be just as deserved. She had to thank him for being in such a good mood.

She headed to the cashier to pay, after realizing that Mr. Peanutbutter wasn't even going to try on the outfit - he and Guy had already gotten distracted and gone to another corner of the store, pointing and amused at everything. They were just looking at jeans, what was so funny?

Diane smirked as she watched the two of them, again in that stupidly domestic scene that she wanted more and more of.

Coming back to reality, she turned to the woman at the cashier - an Abert's squirrel, with her fluffy ears and all - who was glaring at her gleefully:

"Is it a gift?"

"Yes, it is," Diane smiled back, soon after choosing a package with a baseball print. She knew he would like that one.

She took out her card to pay, the squirrel cocking her head in her direction again:

"Do you know who Mr Peanutbutter is?"

"Huh?" Diane's brain apparently worked very slowly today. Or she was just very distracted, in her own thoughts. "I do!"

"It's him back there, isn't it?" She looked anxious, surreptitiously pointing to where the dog was.

Already knowing what to expect, Diane glanced around, seeing how he and Guy had already moved into another section of the store, with more colorful clothes. Picking up a purple T-shirt, Guy commented something along the lines of "I already told you that I'm bisexual?", in the most unnatural way possible, making Diane have to control herself not to laugh. Okay, now she would have a point for the conversation they would have before bed.

"Of course it's him!" Diane said to the squirrel. "He's talking to my husband."

"Serious? What? Wait, so are you... You are..."

"Diane Nguyen."

Of course, that poor saleswoman had no idea who she could be. Something she'd learned from the life of being famous enough was that you'd be almost recognizable far more often than totally.

After saying goodbye, she noticed how the squirrel followed her with her eyes while she called the two men with her hand, without having the courage to approach. It was a shame, Mr Peanutbutter enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Once outside, Diane remembered how cold it was, practically being knocked out by the wind. Imagine if she was in Chicago? She would never take it!

She then turned to Mr Peanutbutter, holding out the bag with the package:

"It doesn't have the same excitement as a surprise gift, but here it is!"

He didn't react at first, but the way he tilted his head slightly to the left, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth… Yeah, he liked it. Years ago, in the midst of her despair over her doomed marriage, she read about the 5 love languages. Classic thing that everyone knows nowadays, you know? The conclusion she reached was that Mr. Peanutbutter delivered exactly his own, which he would like to get back.

An extra gift for him would be worth it, wouldn't it?

He held the package in his hands, glancing at the package and enveloping her in a sudden strong hug. He was still so warm, just the right size for her to sink her chin into the yellow fur on his neck. So familiar. So weird.

"Thank you," he said when separating, a little shy. That was new! "I'll get revenge one day for that, huh!"

"Anytime you want!"

Finally, she gave Guy a wide smile: her underhanded way of saying she'd won this time. He nodded and lowered his head, giving her the pleasure of victory.

She felt like a teenager doing that sort of thing, in a way she hadn't genuinely experienced in decades.

It was still good.

They didn't do much more than that before they parted ways. They took Mr. Peanutbutter to his hotel, where they had another rather uncomfortable farewell, where none of the three knew how to react. Just wave? Shake hands? Hug? All options were bad.

"Sooo, see you again on Monday, which means tomorrow!?" The dog opened a big embarrassed smile as he took a few steps back, pointing to both of them with his index fingers. "Oh, I just remembered. Guy, about what you told me inside the store?"

"What...?" The other looked genuinely confused.

"Forget it! It was nothing! I'll be there tomorrow night, I miss you two already!"

And so he was gone, walking into the hotel. He had fled.

Whatever it was, Diane and Guy just stood there, not daring to move.

"Diane... Do you think that us telling him would be the worst thing that could happen?"

"I don't know anymore," she shrugged, releasing all the air she had in her lungs. "I just spent $600.00 dollars on a jacket."

(Finally my knowledge of horror movies has come in handy for something!

After a few months, I finally got the inspiration to finish this chapter! Now there's only one left)

#my writing #does it looks alright?#idk what I'm doing #diane nguyen #mr peanutbutter #guy bjhm #I'm always so nervous about sharing my fics but let's go

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nocturnalwildflower · 1 year

Text

prologue; pope heyward | a day to remember mini-series

summary: an introduction to/an outline of your relationship with pope

warning(s): underage drinking, tooth rotting fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: hiya lovely people! here is an introduction to my new mini-series - a day to remember! this piece basically outlines your relationship with pope and the events leading up to the proposal! hope everyone enjoys this mini-series! p.s. this was supposed to be posted almost a week ago but google docs hid the document and I couldn't find it (thought I lost the whole thing I was freaking out lol)

masterlist ♡ prompt list ♡ series masterlist

“a kook and a pogue’s love lasting? the odds of that happening are not even slim, they are none.”

“yeah? tell that to y/n and pope heyward. they defied those odds.”

[ june - summer before freshman year ]

You and Kiara had met through your parents when you were still in diapers. Your mom had taken you over for a playdate and the two of you instantly clicked. 12 years later, you two were still inseparable although you had very different friend groups. You were slightly more Kook than she was in the sense of shopping on the mainland and using your Kook status to its full advantage (only sometimes), but a big part of you belonged to the Pogues - surfing, partying at the Boneyard, and working for things you want. You and Kiara began working at The Wreck the summer before freshman year to make some money, which her parents were happy to help with. When Pope walked into the Wreck and saw for the first time while you were serving some tourists, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Kiara eventually called you over so you could meet the Pogues and Pope’s heart nearly beat out of his chest when you got closer.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, you must be Pope! Kiara is always talking about you guys, I can’t wait to become a part of this friend group!” you exclaimed with a sweet smile on your face. Pope stared in shock for a few moments, gulping as he stuck out his hand to shake yours. The second your hands touched, he felt a spark and from that moment on he knew that there was something between the two of you. Little did he know, you were both thinking the same thing.

[ july - summer before junior year ]

The summer before junior year started, your feelings for Pope were at an all time high. Over the past 2 years, you had watched several girls pass him up for being the ‘nerdy’ one in the group, which broke your heart with each passing moment. You knew how special he was and how much he had to offer as a boyfriend, but you could never bring yourself to confess your feelings to him. Tonight though, you finally had enough and decided you could not ignore the feelings you had for him any longer, so you chose to make a move on him while partying at the Boneyard. You went up to him while he was sitting with the boys, probably chit-chatting about JJ’s most recent hookup, and asked him if you could take a walk and talk about something. He was quick to jump to his feet, following behind you as you brought him towards the dock the crew usually hung out at.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Pope asked before taking a sip of his beer. You waited until he was facing you and just just went for it by planting a soft kiss on his lips. He was surprised to say the least, but didn’t resist and cupped your face while smiling into the kiss, taking a few moments to soak in the happiness he was feeling. The kiss lasted a couple minutes and you could not have asked for anything more from him. Eventually, Pope pulled away and gasped for some air.

“Wow, Y/N that was…” Pope began before stopping and gulping. You bit your lip to prevent the tears from falling down your face before you spoke.

“If you don’t feel the same way-”

“Y/N are you freaking kidding me?! I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day we met at the Wreck 2 years ago, I just never thought you felt the same way!” Pope exclaimed, grabbing your hand and peppering it with kisses as a ginormous smile became plastered on your face.

“Well I can tell you right now I do feel the same way and I am so fucking happy right now… I guess that makes this official?” you questioned as Pope leaned in for another kiss, giving you your answer. You knew this was the start of something amazing, but you never anticipated the future the two of you would have.

[ june - end of senior year ]

2 years later, you and Pope were still absolutely inseparable - the two of you were so different but you just worked. You knew that the two of you were more than likely going to go to different universities, which broke your heart a little bit every time you thought about it. You had applied to NYU, which was your dream school, but didn't have much confidence that you would get in. The program you applied to was extremely competitive and although you were smart and had fantastic grades, so did everyone else that applied to the program.

Your phone buzzed on the table and you peaked over to see what it was. When you realized it was an email from NYU, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest and you grabbed your phone quickly. Pope gave you a strange look before realizing why your reaction was what it was. You were breathing heavily, thinking about how badly you wanted to get in and how devastated you would be if you didn’t get in. You clicked on the email and let out a shriek, causing your parents to come running into the kitchen.

“HOLY SHIT IT GOT IN!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your seat as a smile tugged on Pope’s lips. Your parents ran towards you, giving you a giant hug and screaming excitement with you. After the initial shock and excitement, your parents ran off to call your family members to inform them of the news, leaving you and Pope in the kitchen alone.

“I knew you could do it baby, I am so god damn proud of you!” he exclaimed as he planted a kiss on your lips. He pulled away, placing a folded piece of paper in front of you as you stared in confusion.

“What’s this?” You asked, opening the piece of paper and letting out a loud gasp. It was an email from the Admissions office at NYU informing him of his acceptance for the dual degree pathway in Biomolecular Science, meaning he got to work on both his Bachelor’s of Science and his Master's of Science at the same time. Your eyes began to tear up and Pope pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head. After a couple seconds he pulled away.

“I applied to every school you did and based my decision off of where you accepted. NYU’s Biomolecular Science Program is just as good as any of the other programs I applied for and the best part is that I get to spend the next 4 years with you. I wouldn’t be able to handle 4 years away from you, and I want to be by your side while you go through this,” Pope said, smiling at you as he wiped the salty tears off your face.

“Pope-”

“No trying to talk me out of this. We’re going to New York together and we’re going to make it the best 4 years. I love you so much Y/N,” he replied, smiling down at you. You returned the smile as the butterfly farm in your stomach went wild and thinking about how amazing the next 4 years with Pope were going to be. You knew being away from your family would take its toll on you, but all that matters is that you had Pope.

[september - start of college ]

Before the two of you packed up your entire lives on Outer Banks and made the 8 hour drive to New York, you promised to have the best summer ever - that was a huge success. You had spent the summer making so many memories with the Pogues and you couldn’t ask for better friends. You guys spent the summer surfing, drinking, shopping, exploring the island by going on hikes and so much more.

Your parents graciously offered to pay the rent for the two of you to live in an apartment in New York instead of living in residence. You and Pope needed to cover the cost of food and utilities, which wouldn’t be too hard as you both had a lot of money saved up from working during freshman to senior year. Pope was able to get a partial scholarship that covered about half his tuition, which meant he needed to take out a loan for the rest. He didn’t mind this as he knew that coming to NYU with you was the right decision - he got to spend 4 years growing with you as adults and working on your relationship. The two of you picked a beautiful apartment in downtown New York that wasn’t overly expensive but was the perfect distance between both campuses. Your parents let you dip into your trust fund to use some of the money to buy some furniture that was brand new, as you and Pope were going to be living in that apartment for the entire 4 years of university and they wanted to make sure that the two of you would be set.

You had decided that you would be returning home on holidays to spend time with your families and also decided that you would come home for the summer in order to make some extra cash at the Wreck. Pope also decided to follow you home, knowing that the two of you were so inseparable and he could not imagine spending time away from you.

Your parents had just left, leaving you and Pope alone in your apartment. You were looking out the window, when you felt Pope’s arms wrap around you and you felt his soft lips on your neck.

“I am so ready for this next adventure with you baby.”

[ april - college graduation ]

The past 4 years had been an absolute bliss with Pope. You had gotten accepted into NYU to complete your Masters of Science in Psychology, focusing on Clinical Psychology like you did for your undergraduate degree. Pope was more than happy to join you when you returned to New York after spending the summer in Outer Banks and had even managed to find himself a job working on developing artificial organs and prosthetics. He always wanted to work in the medical field but never wanted to be a doctor, so this was perfect for him. Your parents agreed to pay your rent for an additional year so Pope can get on his feet and begin to make money, but after that you were on your own.

After living together for all these years, Pope had a lot of time to think about your future as a couple. He knew he wanted to propose to you, but he didn't know where to start since he needed this to be absolutely perfect. He had been thinking about who he was going to ask to help him and finally knew who he was going to ask. He picked up the phone and began dialing his best friend’s number with a giant grin plastered on his face.

“Pope! What’s up my dude? I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation, Sarah was also graduating and I really didn’t want to miss it - nothing like watching your girl walk across the stage!” John B replied as Sarah laughed in the background.

“John B, I graduated in January and have been working in my field for almost a month now so stop using me as an excuse for your poor planning!” Sarah exclaimed, earning her a laugh from both Pope and John B.

“Anyways, Y/N and I are coming back next weekend for the summer and I just had a favour to ask you,” Pope replied, smiling into the phone as his heart began to beat faster.

“Yeah of course, what’s up?” John B replied.

“How would you like to help me plan the perfect proposal for her? This girl is my future bro, it’s time to make it official.”

#pope heyward #obx #outer banks #obx fanfic #obx fic #obx imagine #obx imagines #outer banks one shot #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #outer banks imagines #obx fanfiction #pope heyward one shot #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward fanfic #pope heyward fanfiction

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mooifyourecows · 2 years

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Moo, I feel like I remember you mentioning you write in word…how long are some of your fanfic documents cause I can’t even imagine. I just wrote a nine page paper on something I was moderately interested in and was struggling at the end to meet the page requirements. Idk how you do it cause these fics, especially your long ones, have to be hitting book level page numbers right??? You are truly amazing 🙇‍♀️❤️

Hmm well I usually write in separate documents for my ongoing multichap fanfics. I will write a chapter in one document and then open another for the next chapter so that I can be at least SOMEWHAT organized. (Also, if your word count gets TOO high in one word doc, it starts to chug a little and take a long time to load)(also also i say this as if it’s something i’ve always done but i only started doing that in the past couple years because i got sick of having to highlight JUST the new parts in order to copy and paste into ao3 for a new chapter. when i section them off into new docs per chapter, i can just ‘copy all’ easy peasy)

When I'm writing and don't really know where chapters will be, I just write continuously in one doc until it starts to misbehave. I think the longest document I ever wrote was one of my 5 Open Tab documents. It got to the point that it was like "there are too many suggested corrections, we're not gonna notify you anymore" and all the little red and blue squiggly lines stopped appearing under misspelled words and stuff asgdhfjf

but let’s look at some exact pages/word counts for fun

so recently, an average chapter for my fics ranges between 14k to 22k words. i make it a point to try and do at least 20k words for each ategt chapter so lets look at the most recent one of those.

the word count for ategt chapter 15 was around 21k words, which came out to be about 43 pages with my formatting (12 pt Times New Roman, single spaced, no spacing before or after line breaks, .5 inch paragraph indentations, no top or bottom margins)(don’t clown me for my formatting okay it’s what looks and feels best to me and always has)(i actually used to write in two columns at like 8 pt font size because i was UNHINGED as a teen but i grew out of that lmao)

i tried opening the biggest word doc on my computer (the 3rd chunk of Open Tab) and it took like 10 minutes for the word/page count to be correct. at first it was like “i know i claim that there are 180,000 words in this document but that only comes out to about 40 pages!” like okay bitch lmao

in reality though, with the same formatting as the other one, that one document came out to be about 393 pages long. and that’s just one chunk of Open Tab. the entire fic would be like triple that if it was all in one doc haha but i’m pretty sure microsoft word would IMPLODE if i tried to put it all into one rather than split them up

the longest book i own (or at least the longest book i didn’t have to go through unpacked boxes to find) comes out to about 600 pages with its slightly more expanded formatting and smaller page sizes. looked the book up on google and it apparently has about 30k words LESS than that open tab doc soooooo yeah, we be surpassing that shit

i would be cocky about it but my writing is WAY more self indulgent and absolutely packed with stuff that publishers/editors would typically demand i cut out soooooo ya know

thanks for the question babe! and thanks for reading and supporting my stories, it means a lot 🌈🥰🖤

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mlwritingprompts · 2 years

Text

Submitted prompt: Universal Hope.

Here is a google doc link to the full compilation of prompts in this series, since there's apparently too many paragraphs to put in a single tumblr post. (because tumblr insists on making this site worse rather than better lol...) You can download the file as a word document, PDF, or epub. If you download it as an epub, you can then transfer it to your phone to read in any reading app like an ebook!

And finally, here it is. The finale of my "Universal" series AU. (though maybe if Fluff helped me time-travel, I can give it for free it as an original plot long before this show's idea even came to existence lol, at least that would make a good show if given a budget)

Also, two other nonbinary characters makes an appearance (although admittedly very shortly):

Luue, kwami of Impossibility and uses the pronouns mi/mir/mirs/mirself.

And Elise, a teacher, pronouns are ce/cer/cers/cerself. Would have given cer a more prominent role, but sadly I only thought of cer only at the end of the AU and I don't have energy or ideas to make an omake or another story about Elise :(

I mean, one can make an omake or a side-story where Elise interacts with Adrien, Chloe, and the rest of the class in a helathy and positive manner and helps them through their teenage years and encourages them to discover themselves and unleash their creativity in a helpful way. Maybe even helping some of the students with their problems and help them enforcing their boundaries and curbing any harmful behaviour and spreading positivity, thus showing why Elise decided to be a teacher because ce has compassion and morals and wants to teach the younger generation the same positive morals and foster compassion and respect into them, also showing why ce was also respected and loved by cer students and collegues. (I gave an idea that can be made into a whole story, yay! :))

(But who would like to read that? /sarcasm.)

(But seriously, if someone can, do so if you want. I can't write this since it's too out of my experience and I fear I will mess it up. So there, have fun writing if you want :))

So, I guess, you can treat cer character as a gift to use in your original stories or fanfics??? I am not sure about this approach really.

Now Tikki, stop breaking the 4th wall and giving me ideas while I am simply watching completely unrelated videos please I can't do more than this for the AU.

===========

Natasi walked alongside loc friend, enjoying the sunny day.

Just a moment of calmness, as both decided to have fun by touring the city of Paris another time.

It had been a month after Cosmic Actress had told the heroes of the current timeline about the state of the universe, and both friends felt that a vacation is very much needed at this point.

Nothing to let one relax more than having fun with friends.

"You are sure to let them deal with the end of the cosmos?" Natasi asked loc friend as both ate some icecream.

"Yes. We've tried for so long. And you know how that ended. Maybe we should take a page from media entertainment and 'let the new generation deal with it'. Who knows, maybe this is what the universe needs at this point."

Nix smiled jokingly. Something reciprocated by loc. Neither really had any real hope that the heroes can fix this, but sometimes, even an amateur can do something so unexpected it might work.

Little did the duo know, that nix telling the group had far reaching consequences.

Neither did the two expect just how this broken shell of a universe will act.

===========

In a domain devoid of concepts, The Nothingness shrieked with a wail that no mortal should be allowed to hear.

Its powers, the power to delete any concept.

They were now being hampered, as the essences of concepts it had absorbed for eons started rebelling.

The essences of the cosmos somehow attacking it from the inside, harming it.

How!? How did this happen!?

Even in the many time resets these two brats had done, it had never felt this much pain!

In fact, this was the first time it had felt pain at all!

It extended its senses, searching and trying to locate what had happened.

And it had found the source via using a tiny fragment of Time essence it had absorbed long before.

It watched as Cosmic Actress spoke to the heroes, telling them about the dangers, the cracks in the cosmos. And how their existence will cause the end of the cosmos.

The brat was right, The Nothingness admitted to itself. The only thing strange was that the Akuma did not truly realize that the Nothingness was a conscious entity. Or maybe nix did, but did not think it was important?

No matter.

As it kept watching the past, it had watched as the cosmos, the weak and broken shell of it, started to change and warp.

As Cosmic Actress was talking, the concepts were already twisting, somehow augmenting themselves...

And attaching themselves to the so-called heroes.

As if giving them power. Favouritism. Protagonist status. Or whatever Cosmic Actress had called the damn thing.

And at the same time, other areas of the universe were somehow becoming more and more hectic, as if preparing for a battle for survival.

Survival and annihilating the enemy.

It. The enemy...

The Nothingness felt a new emotion, an emotion so foreign yet so fitting.

Wrath.

Wrath at the universe.

Did the damn thing believe that because the Nothingness was content with being suppressed once, it would allow that to happen once more!?

Unacceptable!

It needs to stop this madness.

And get back the Solitude and Silence it so desired...

===========

Chloe had to admit that she had seen better days as she awoke with difficulty.

Ever since Cosmic Actress gave her and the rest of the heroes the news about the big disaster the cosmos was facing, and the fact that Tikki, her friend, was a slave, she could barely get a good sleep.

The rest of the heroes were the same, and no one knew how to even start to fix this mess, even now.

They couldn't just shatter the Miraculouses, because it would only result with them going back to where they started.

Shaking off the dizziness, Chloe walked the exhausting distance to her school, her teammates meeting her along the way. All of them clearly tired as well as the kwami.

"Not a good night's sleep as well?" Kagami asked, hints of exhaustion still in her tone.

She also couldn't sleep very well.

The whole group resisted the urge to sigh and walked to the school.

Chloe hoped that the lessons she will be having today will put her mind off from the reality of their predicament, for a moment at least.

Entering the class, the teacher, Cie. Elise was already there.

Ce greeted Chloe and her friends as ce waited for the clock to hit 8:00.

Chloe relaxed a little as the lesson started, and she focused as Cie. Elise was explaining the subject of today.

'Maybe today I can enjoy myself for a while.' she says to herself, feeling as Tikki was besides her.

The class ended up quickly, and Chloe found herself taking the break with Alya as both sat together talking about whatever they felt like it.

"At least, we can give our assignments on time since there's no more Amoks and Akumas/Champions to deal with right now." Chloe says jokingly as both take a laugh.

－Only for them to hear the sounds of screaming, and instinctively looking at the source of the noise, hoping it was just students playing a prank－

And they saw as the school's upper part was being swallowed by a black sphere.

"What!? Didn't Cosmic Actress say that nix will not attack anymore!?" Alya shouted in shock before the two transformed, meeting their teammates as the group looked at the black sphere, a sensation of dread and confusion seeping into their minds as they watched as the sphere stopped growing, and an unearthly scream resounded.

It was only thanks to their defensive suits that they were not knocked out right away from the force, as the air vibrated, and the ground shattered in front of them.

And under their watch, the sphere shrunk, taking on a humanoid figure made of pitch black darkness with no eyes or mouth, but regardless, all of them felt how the being was looking at them with a soul-piercing gaze.

"Welcome... Humans..." The being spoke, its words this time feeling more human-

No, its words were more comprehensible for the mortals in general. Its words no longer destroy things just by uttering them.

"I guess... this is how to communicate with you...? Fascinating! This sure is... interesting..." It ignored them for few seconds as they got their bearings, more focused on being impressed by being able to speak to normal humans, mere mortals as far as it was concerned.

"Ah... I guess... An introduction is in order?" Its "head" tilts as if giving a questioning look before straighening up. "I am... Well, I don't have any name, really. But these two brats called me the Nothingness. I guess I will take that name for myself for now. You shall call me that as well."

The now officially named Nothingness stated in confidence as it raised an "arm".

"And you are standing in the way of me and my home. Disappear."

With that, a world where concepts were absorbed and ceased to exist... was made...

=========

"Damn it! What's going on now!?" Cosmic Actress swore as nix was wildly flying alongside Natasi.

Both had felt the essence and energy of the universe starting to vanish at an alarming rate.

And they also felt a huge mass of... whatever that Nothingness was... concentrating in the area.

"This is too fast! I thought that this level of cosmic deletion would happen only a millenia later at the very least! Why is it spreading so soon!?" Natasi was also terrified out of loc mind. "Did we do something to speed up the process somehow?"

Cosmic Actress bit nix lip at that.

This shouldn't have happened so soon.

So what did cause this?

"I told the heroes my theory that the world, or at least, the city of Paris, works on the idea that Protagonist-Centered Morality and the Theory of Narrative Causality coexist, and that the messed-up way the concepts work here make that happen. But even that is not enough to explain-" Nix suddenly stopped talking, nix eyes widening.

Nix then gave a small chuckle at the realization of what just happened.

"Cosmic Actress?" Natasi asked nix with worry.

"Oh, nothing surprising. I just realized that my long talk to the heroes might feel like the mentor giving their wisdom to the protagonists while dropping exposition. And you know what trope is the most dangerous to the mentors?"

Loc eyes widened as clo connected the dots.

"Yes, Natasi, we have done our last info-dump, and we have outlived our usefulness, so to speak. And the True Final Boss is approaching." Nix kept smiling for a moment before nix expression turned into irritation and spoke with a furious tone.

"I have told you I am starting to hate Murphy for making that law, didn't I?"

=============

"Well, I have to say... I expected better than this."

Nothingness stated as it looked at the current state of the heroes.

All looking tired and spent.

The battle could barely be called that, since Nothingness was almost as strong Cosmic Actress from what the heroes can feel, if only in a completely different way.

While Cosmic Actress can be hit by the attacks they made against nix and be affected, even for only a second, The Nothingness did not even bother reacting to their attempts.

As if both were on completely different dimensions.

It could interact with them, but they could not interact with it.

Any attempts they had tried would have ended up in their immediate deletion and absorption by it, had they not honed their skills and insticts from a long year of superheroing, and the fact that their opponent seemed to only know how to fight using overwhelming power and no tactics or plans.

'This is just the same as when we fought Cosmic Actress.' Chloe thought and bit her lips. 'Are we really that pathetic compared to beings like them?'

She wondered what she could do to save the city, but ideas were running out and she couldn’t figure out how to use the Lucky Charm, a strange alien sphere emitting a powerful energy of sorts.

The Nothingness looked at them once more, before the air around it changed, and Chloe for some reason felt that it was 'determinated'.

For what? She didn't know.

"Farewell. World End!"

A wave of nothingness came to existence, expanding rapidly, and the heroes felt it.

The deletion and absorption of the concepts, as the wave rushed at them, about to-

"Leave them alone!"

A voice they had not heard for a month exclaimed angrily, as a large amount of energy was being created, stopping the march of the nothingness and overpowering it.

Cosmic Actress and Natasi landed gracefully on the ground, and with a wave of nix hands, white butterflies emerged from Cosmic Actress’ palms, latching into the heroes.

"Heroes, we don't have much time! I will boost your powers! Accept this!"

They took a second looking in shock at nix and loc presences.

"Just do what I say!" Cosmic Actress barked.

They immediately nodded at nix yell, feeling the urgency of the situation, no more time for them to waste.

Energy flowed from their new forms as all of them felt the connection to their kwami' concepts sharpen and expand immensely.

The Nothingness looked at Cosmic Actress and Natasi with what seemed to be annoyance.

"Ah, you two finally appeared. You two are becoming really annoying, you know that?"

The group took a guarded position.

"Just what are you? How can you exist?" Natasi asked it, feeling unnerved by its presence.

The Nothingness tilted it's "head" questioningly as if it was confused as well. "Me? Honestly, I don't have an actual name, but you shall call me the Nothingness, like you had called me before. And about being able to exist?"

It made a shrugging motion. "I don't know, but I... existed... long before your cosmos came to be. And now, I want my sweet silence and solitude back. And you are in the way!"

With that, it struck once more, a blast of void unleashed.

The group evaded and jumped, watching as the attack hit the ground, corrupting it with the essence of the Nothingness.

"So this is the being that started the deletion of the cosmos, just how can we defeat it?" Adrien asked, and Cosmic Actress didn't feel like correcting him on the fact that the Order of Guardians were the ones that started the whole mess first right now.

But he was correct, how can they defeat it?

They must do that, but...

Easier said than done.

None of their attacks managed to reach it, but it could attack them just fine, only failing due to its lack of experience.

After avoiding another blast of void, the group made contact with the ground once more.

"Chloe! Did your Lucky Charm give you anything that might help?" Natasi asked, still focusing loc eyes at the enemy.

Chloe shook her head and showed loc the strange ball. "No. I only got this sphere, it is pulsing with some sort of energy, but I couldn-"

Chloe's voice cut off as her instincts flared as she looked at the ball, then at Natasi and Cosmic Actress.

"Oh! I think I got it!" She exclaimed.

Nix and nix friend had already realized it as well the moment their eyes landed on the sphere.

Chloe immediately threw the sphere towards the duo, who immediately created a butterfly and a feather using Duusuu and Nooroo's energy, as the Nothingness felt something wrong it had never felt before.

Danger.

It didn't know how or why it felt that way, but it felt that sensation all the same.

That sphere! It is dangerous for it's existence!

It moved to attack and stop them-

But it could not reach in time.

The feather fused with the sphere, the energy inside it mixing with the fragment of Duusuu's power.

And creating a new being.

The being rapidly took a shape and size very familiar to the heroes.

A shape and size the kwamis have.

A blast of concepts overpowered the Nothingness' attack for a moment, just enough for Nooroo's power to make contact with the new being.

The energy intensified, stabilizing, becoming denser and more potent.

"NO!" The Nothingness screamed as it pushed through, directing an attack towards the heroes and the new being.

'Don't have enough time!' Cosmic Actress swore in nix mind, moving to take the hit in place of the group-

And an eye opened.

The Nothingness made contact-

And Cosmic Actress was still there.

Nix was not absorbed.

Nix eyes widened in shock at the surprise of nix survival.

"You can't delete nix." A foreign new voice resounded, not high or low, but somewhere in the middle. Perfectly gender-neutral.

Nix looked from the edges of nix eyes, and saw the new being.

Mi was... well, no one could describe mir as mi looked completely different than any lifeform to compare to, but mi had three eyes, all of them having a color that humans should not be allowed to see.

Luue, everyone felt in their hearts, was mir name.

"Indeed, you can't delete anyone here, Nothingness." Mi spoke with a passionate yet cold tone towards it. "I am Luue, the embodiment of Impossibility! From now on, you will not be able to delete this cosmos!"

A powerful wave of energy spread from Luue's body, harming and weakening the Nothingness, causing the essences of the concepts it had absorbed to slowly rampage inside its body, while empowering the rest even more.

The Nothingness felt like screaming in rage, but then Cosmic Actress punched it in the face, causing it to stumble, clutching its head from the sensation of pain.

"How!?" The Nothingness' scream was left unanswered as the heroes finally started fighting back, actually managing to harm it this time.

"We can reach it!"

"Keep going!"

"Fight!"

As they attacked, yelling with confidence, The Nothingness could only scream in pain and anger.

‘How!? How can they harm it!? It had existed for so long! It was the antithesis of everything they are made of! So how can they still pull out so much power against it!?’

A wave of nausea suddenly hit it, as the energy of the concepts it had absorbed, started to leak from it's body, weakening it further.

Luue, Cosmic Actress and Natasi took this chance, and rushed towards it.

It desperately targeted Luue, who phased through the attack and entered its body, a butterfly and a feather made by nix and loc in mir hands, and from the inside, the butterfly and feather resonated with the locked essences of the concepts, ravaging the Nothingness from the inside.

It screamed in pain as the concepts fully and violently forced their way out, and its body slowly collapsing on itself.

Cosmic Actress looked at it, an Oblivion Orb in hand, and an angry resolute expression in nix face.

"Return to whence you came from! Nothingness!" The orb hit it directly, and it was forcefully thrown into the ground, cracking it.

"Ughh..." The Nothingness tried to stand, only for its body to drop. Exhaustion seeping into its being in a way it had never felt before.

It tried to force more power into its body, only for its hands to dissolve.

Chloe and the rest watched in alarm, wondering if it will regenerate.

It, on the other hand, looked at its hand that was slowly disintegrating, the feeling of pain slowly numbing.

In what qualifies as its mind, another feeling was starting to appear even as it became unable to feel it's body.

"I'm... Dying...?"

It asked, feeling confused, yet feeling certain that death would likely feel like that.

"I'm dying... What is dying...?"

Its whole body slowly started to disintegrate, the feeling of numbness intensifying as it became more and more unable to think.

"Thinking... is too bothersome... Living... is... too... bothersome..."

With such words, it completely disappeared, feeling nothing as it breathed it's last breath.

The group stood there, looking at where it once was, and only when they realized that it was gone, with Luue explicitly stating that, did they finally breathe in relief, as Nino and the rest of the heroes detransformed with a sigh. "Finally! We defeated it!"

Cosmic Actress breathed with relief as well along with Natasi.

Slowly, the group started to relax and smile.

Luue meanwhile, raised mir hands, and a sphere of energy came to existence.

An energy of the same type of that the Nothingness was using.

The group looked at mir, wondering what mi will do with that orb of nothingness.

Mi saw their questioning looks and gave them the answer with a smile.

"Well, you might not know this, but even defeating it and disintegrating its body, The Nothingness will not die. Currently, it is in a state different than being alive or being dead. It is neither asleep or awake. It just still is. But it now, with its energy in my grasp, it will never be able to escape again. It will stay in a prison of its own making. A silence and solitude it always desired." Mi explained to the group that was listening intently.

"Also, even if it is no longer free to cause havoc in the cosmos, you still can't just fix the damage or free the miraculouses right away. Instead..."

Everyone held their breaths in anticipation.

"You should use a portion of this energy, to substitute and help fix the damage. This energy. This nothingness. It works as an antithesis to the laws of the cosmos. If we use it right, we can convince the cosmos to be lenient, and allow the kwami to be freed without the reality morphing again."

Cosmic Actress could not hide nix smile at the news.

Finally, after so long...

The kwami will be truly free...

Nix was surprised then when Luue looked at nix and Natasi.

"This also allows us to help you two, too. We can help Marinette."

Nix covered nix mouth with a hand, emotions rapidly forcing themselves inside nix.

"Help... Marinette...?" Natasi asked, feeling like crying from happiness clockself.

Luue smiled at the two.

"Yes, no longer will Marinette be forced to bear the fate of the world due to the broken will of the universe. And you two as well."

Cosmic Actress fell on nix knees, eyes tearing up from happiness, along with Natasi. "Is that it? Really? After living for so long, trying to acheive a goal we thought it was impossible... Is that it? Are we truly done?" Nix sobbed from happiness.

After so long, nix and loc were free.

No longer will they keep seeing the cosmos repeatedly destroyed. No longer will they suffer living for so long with no end in sight, all their attempts to fix things destroyed.

Finally, this long seemingly-hopeless journey had ended.

The kids felt themselves tearing up at the sight, as the other kwami flew towards Luue.

Luue gave the duo a last smile.

"Farewell, it was really nice to meet you! My brethren! Let's do it!"

The kwami enthusiast smiled as they put their hands and mir hand together, their energy and the power of Nothingness harmonizing, as the reality shuddered.

The miraculouses started to shatter, turning to dust, but the kwami were still there, they are no longer bound by their previous constraints.

They are no longer a fragment of a concept, they are now truly the embodiments of them. No longer needing to be bound to an object.

Large orbs of energy came out from Cosmic Actress and Natasi's bodies, turning into Nooroo and Duusuu, who gave the duo a thanks and a hug before joining the rest of the kwami.

Reality was then covered with light, and as it slowly disappeared, Chloe saw that the Akuma and Amok are no longer there.

"They're fine. They just were given their own happiness. Along with Marinette." Tikki answered the unspoken question.

Alya hoped things will go well for them.

====================

Marinette found herself standing awake in confusion as she could not remember what happened.

Looking around, she saw that she was in a strange place, everywhere she looked, only white could be seen. Neither could she see an ending to it.

As she kept looking around, she suddenly heard a voice that caused her to jump a little.

"Hello, Marinette."

She looked towards the source of the voice and found two people.

One of them had a circle with roman numerals behind loc.

'Loc?' Marinette thought, still confused.

Somehow, she knew that the one with the circle used the pronouns clo/loc/locs/clockself, while the other used nix/nix/nix/nixself.

But she didn't have time to ponder that as the two identified themselves:

"I am Cosmic Actress, an Akuma, and this is my friend, Natasi, clo is an Amok." The one without the numbers told her with a happy smile, which was sadly not reciprocated by Marinette even in her confusion.

Marinette immediately took a panicked and guarded stance the moment nix stated their true nature, months if not years of training forcing her to put up her guard. "Akuma!?" She gasped.

"No need to worry! I will help clear your confusion!" Cosmic Actress said.

It took a simple finger snap, and before Marinette could process anything, memories started flooding back.

They filed themselves away in her mind almost instantly, and just a moment, later, all of her memories had returned.

And she looked at the duo in front of her, knowing exactly who they were.

And who they came from.

Her face paled as she remembered her justified fit of rage.

She could remember as Hawkmoth's voice was whispering to her to unleash her hatred and wrath-

'And I failed!'

She felt like crying.

After all that effort, it all ended up thrown away.

She became a prey for the villains.

All of that...

'Because I could not con-!'

"And it is not your fault for not controlling how you feel, Marinette. And it isn't your fault for having negative emotions." Natasi cut off her depressing thought immediately, causing her to look in befuddlement, her eyes almost tearing up. "I said, that it is never your fault for having negative emotions. It never was." Natasi said in a soft tone.

Marinette stepped back in fear, not from them, but from what they were telling her.

"N- No! It is my fault! Because of that I was-!" Her words were cut off with a sob, as the reality of the situation asserted itself. "I was Akumatized... I failed in my duty! I couldn't protect my friends or family!"

For a moment, the only voice heard was the sound of her sobbing, before Cosmic Actress spoke with a soft yet serious tone.

"And what's wrong with having negative emotions?"

The phrase hit Marinette like a train, but she couldn't muster a response before nix started speaking up again, slowly approaching her.

"What is wrong with feeling rage? What is wrong with feeling hate? What is wrong with feeling the desire to stop people from abusing you? What is wrong with wanting people to respect your boundaries? What is wrong with wanting people to not harass you? What is wrong with wishing to cry without the fear of being controlled. Tell me Marinette. What is wrong with that?"

Each question made Marinette feel like a blow, not because they were wrong, but because they were so close to home she couldn't find any other way to react.

She knows deep in her heart that she thought of that. Many nights and days, did she feel like crying at the unfairness of it all. She hated being unable to stop Chloe from bullying and hurting her. She hated being unable to stop Chat Noir from harassing her. She hated Hawkmoth for stripping any ability to vent these emotions from her.

She hated it so much-!

But she bottled these feelings down.

Because it's what her duty had forced on her.

The duty that was also forced on her without a choice.

And all these thoughts, they are being told to her face.

With no way to deflect.

By her own Akuma.

It is too much.

"it was never your fault, Marinette. You know it in your heart. Just like it was never your responsibility to deal with Chloe's abusive behavior, and Chat Noir’s entitlement to your body and affection. Even dealing with Hawkmoth, was a job forced on you by a neglectful guy who ran away the moment danger knocked on his doors. It was never your fault and I can't stress this enough." Cosmic Actress shook nix head before gently smiling. "But you don't need to fear them anymore. They will no longer bind you anymore."

Marinette's body stopped shaking for a moment, tears still flowing from her face. "What do you mean by that?"

"They are all dead. In your reality. But it doesn't really matter anymore. You are no longer cursed to be everyone's problem fixer, Marinette. Don't you want to live it? A life without having to invalidate your own feelings for the sake of people who hurt you?" Natasi told her with a soft smile.

Marinette had stopped crying, she can't feel the energy to do so any more.

She had vented a lot of her emotions when she did.

Her body shook, before she looked at them, her face for the first time giving the impression of a smile.

"And how can I trust you two?"

The duo smiled at that. "Because we are you, Marinette. We are your own feelings made manifest." They said in sync.

A warm light blue glow started to shine as Cosmic Actress spoke, still looking at her. "I know that you are scared. You have trusted people before, only for them to betray you. We understand your fears. But please. Find it in your heart to trust us. Trust your own emotions just this once."

The light intensifies, but Marinette could only feel warm, like a kid protected by their parent.

"Please believe in a better future. Hope for a better future!"

What happened next was purely instinct.

Marinette felt herself warming, smiling as she grasped the light, and the entire dimension glowed as well.

She felt that she did the correct thing.

She saw Cosmic Actress and Natasi smiling, waving at her.

"Nice to be your friend, Marinette. We will meet later!"

With that farewell, Marinette happily accepted her new reality, as everything became blue.

===================

A girl wakes up as the alarm clock rings.

She shuts it down, yawning, before going downstairs to get her breakfast.

"Good morning, Marinette!"

She turns around, and saw her siblings giving her a bright smile.

"Good morning, Cosmic Actress, Natasi! Today is pretty, isn't it?"

Natasi, her youngest sibling, smiles at her enthusiasm. "Indeed, shame it's the day we get back to school though~!"

Clo pouts jokingly at that, with Marinette and Cosmic Actress give a light-hearted laugh at that.

"Now, come on, let's go get ready!" Marinette insists.

They gather their school supplies, and together three went downstairs, seeing Tom and Sabine who greeted them with a hug and a smile. "Are you three prepared for school?"

Three enthusiastic nods was the answer Sabine got.

But before they left, Marinette had one thing to announce. It was something...well, something zu had been thinking about for a while. But now, standing in the bakery with zek siblings and parents, everything so perfect even the thought of a new school year couldn’t ruin it, zu was done thinking about it, zu was ready to announce it. It felt right.

It was funny, how zek youngest siblings had figured this out before zu did. “Everyone,” zu announced, “I’m changing my pronouns. I’m going to use zu/zev/zek/levself pronouns from now on.” Zu hadn’t thought to write them down, since zu hadn’t actually been planning to do this today. But what better time than the present? The best time to make the changes that would make you happy was today. It was never too late. “For now, you can still call me Marinette, I haven’t decided if I want to change it yet.” Zu continued. There were so many fun names to pick from, zu didn’t know where to start.

Zek family was overjoyed, and they all shared a group hug as zek siblings congratulated zev and zek parents told zev how proud of zev they were, and there would definitely be a cake just to celebrate the occasion when zu got home from school.

There wasn’t time to make a pronoun pin or anything, but zu would get to introduce levself to zev classmates in most of zek new classes, so that was okay. Zu would get a chance to explain zek pronouns then, and zu could always write them on paper and tape it to zek shirt or something. Or maybe Mr. Aubert, the art teacher, would be nice enough to give zev a blank pin to write on, the way he had for Cosmic Actress and Natasi when they’d changed their pronouns and names last year.

The trio walked side by side, feeling happiness and curious what this new year will hold for them.

Marinette felt so giddy and content at being with zek siblings.

'I don't know what the future will hold but... I will face it with hope and compassion, alongside Natasi and Cosmic Actress. I promise this!' Zu didn't know where this emotional fire came from, but neither did zu care.

It just felt great to have hope for a better future today.

====================

HAPPY END.

#neopronouns in action #miraculous ladybug #ml writing prompts #zu/zev/zek/levself #nix/nix/nix/nixself #nix/nixself #clo/loc/(locs)/clockself #clo/loc/locs/clockself #ce/cer/cers/cerself #ce/cer/(cers)/cerself #mi/mir/mirs/mirself #mi/mir/(mirs)/mirself #Show!Miraculous #Show!Marinette #Show!Adrien

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robobrainmurdermysterytheatre · 2 years

Text

Scrolling the ol’ dash today I saw at least a couple of reblogs about organizing writing IDK if it was from the same person or if several people are struggling with this because IT IS A STRUGGLE. I started out my now 85k word fanfic (which is still a rough draft still and honestly probably will be for all time and eternity but it’s fun to write) in Google Docs. When I got to about 30-40k-ish words I was struggling because I write things out of order. I jump into the middle of the meaty action and messy feelings and figure out the rest. Or I’m working on an earlier chunk of the story and I’m like - I can fit in a callback to this in this other scene in the future, let’s go back and add that. Since its a Fallout 76 fanfic sometimes I’m playing the game and end up a place or do a quest and I go “Fuck! I know what my story needs now! Right in the middle of these two scenes I’ve already written!”

So, belated announcement, I got a new job a little while ago and I work with authors. Big career change to go from school custodian to what I’m doing now, lol. I love it and I’m happy. ANYWAY, one of my clients mentioned Scrivener. So I asked @thuumwrestler, who has an actual whole college degree and a novel in progress and is a real writer, what they thought about Scrivener. They said the learning curve for it wasn’t worth it and in my research I found out you have to pay money for it. Pfft.

So I googled free alternatives to Scrivener because *all* I wanted to do was to be able to divide up the story so I can easily find the different sections of it and add, move, do whatever to those different chunks easily. I decided to try SmartEdit Writer as a starting point to compare the different programs I found and got it right on the first try!

LOOK AT THIS:

This is only like a third of the story, if that, hence why I really needed this lol.

So, the way it’s intended to be used is each folder is a chapter and each page is a scene. I don’t have chapters, just vague chunks. My “scenes” are sometimes like 1-5 page scenes, but I have at least 1 that’s a 10k word chunk probably closer to a chapter because I started something and couldn’t stop for 3 days. You can leave notes like you see above - I have a note for “Treehouse Town” because I needed to remind myself I need to actually write that part because I skipped it over to get to the next part.

When you’re writing in it, it works just like any word processor. Another cool feature is you can open multiple scenes in tabs and flip between them:

VERY helpful when I’m referencing something from another scene.

There’s WAY more functionality to it than what I use it for. You can keep track of research and notes in it’s own separate little window.

It’s not a resource hog on your computer. I tried to put the 40k word version of my fic into LibreOffice and froze my poor lightweight little laptop. I never have a problem loading the story up fast at 80k words in this. It’s also software on my computer, not in the cloud like Google Docs so I can take my laptop wherever and write, if I have internet problems, I can still write.

When you’re done (or to create a backup) you can export the whole thing as one file!

I also got @thuumwrestler to use it and they approve!

I wish I was getting paid to plug this but I am just really delighted and wanted to share how helpful it was to me in case other people are struggling!

You can check it out here: https://www.smart-edit.com/Writer/

#long post #sorry to interrupt your regular programming lol

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goldenspecter · 2 years

Note

Writers ask game:

7, 11, and 15 through 20

Hopefully Tumblr will act right. Anyways, Mo, bestie I love you dearly.

7. Who is the OC that is most like you?

I’ve never shared them here on this hellsite[half-derogatory], but Emory and Loggerhead, as they essentially are reflections of me.

11. Have you ever written fanfiction about your own work?

Uhhh, not sure. I don’t think so?

15. What is your current writing habit?

No matter what it is, if its fanfic, schoolwork, or for fun, I do all of my work on Google Keep. I’ve been doing it for about a year and a half or so now at this point? Maybe two? Who knows. I don’t know the passage of time. Anyways, I don’t have to deal with a lot of interface when I type into a Note on Google Keep and if I max out a single Note, I know I wrote at least 3k words, then I’ll easily copy+paste what i wrote into Google Docs, and continue from there.

16. Where do you find inspiration to write?

Friends. Music. Being outside, specifically when I’m out on a car ride and watching the world go by me from the passenger seat.

17. Tell us a fun fact about your current WIP.

.... which one. I have too many. There’s a lot going on here behind the scenes.

18. Show us a piece of dialogue you really like.

Splinter looks down at his son. “No, we have to keep going. We don’t stop because we want to,” says Splinter tonelessly, his voice foreign to Raph. “You think the Shredder stops his destruction because he wants to? Because he’s tired? No, and neither can you.”

“Papa, this, this isn’t fun anymore,” Raph says sadly. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“We must. It’s our familial duty to carry on the legacy of the Hamato clan,” Splinter says, voice hardening as he continues. “I did it, your mother did it, now it’s up to you-”

-The Curious Case of the Wrestling Singlet

Raph looks on his belt, picks out his wallet and unfolds it. "See, there she is," he says, pointing to a photo of the five of them. "There's she is! The legendary April O'Neil." "How is she your only human friend?" asks Mirabel. "You should have more friends than just one."

-The Turtle in The Encanto (i couldn’t resist this one)

19. Show us the line you want readers to remember from your story.

It is hard to be a good big brother. It is hard and it requires back-breaking labor to choose the option that will continue to let him be a good big brother, the option that will allow him to continue to foster a good relationship with his brothers.

It is easy to choose an option that is cold and requires no compassion. It is easy. It is always the easier option, the one that will solve his problems right then and there.

Bittersweet Fidelity: The Easy Choice

20. Do you have one piece of advice for your fellow writers?

I’m bad at giving advice, but um... if you’re not sure how you wanna do a thing for something youre writing or how to approach it, just write the damn thing. like seriously. just write it. don’t worry about build up. don’t worry about plot. Just write the draft scene, and if you like how it turns out, use it as a guide for when you write the real scene when you finally actually get there.

Writer’s Ask Game: Send Me Asks!

#cosmo speaks #ask meme

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Note

Ok, so I might as well post the first part now since I already have it. Fun fact, it's four pages in a google docs. I'll give you the second part as soon as I'm done writing it.

Tommy glanced at Cedric questioningly. The older teen just waved him on, leaving the trophy open. Tommy shot another glance at Harry, eyebrow raised. “We’re all champions,” the dark haired teen said. “Besides, you and I never put our names in the Goblet. I don’t see the harm in letting him take the cup.” “No, no,” Cedric said with a small shake of his head. “You two have won basically every challenge so far. You deserve the trophy more than I do.” “Together then,” Tommy said, shifting Harry’s weight and reaching his hand out to Cedric. “After all, we are all Hogwarts champions.” After a moment of hesitation, Cedric accepted the hand, and together the three of them limped towards the Triwizard Cup.

Once they reached it, a glance passed between the three of them, and slowly, they reached out for the Cup. As soon as they did, Tommy felt a sharp tug in his belly button and he was yanked forward. He felt his hand slipping from Harry’s, and he held on tighter. Faintly, he thought he heard Cedric’s voice calling them. Then just as suddenly as it had stopped, the dizzying tug stopped, and dumped Cedric, Harry, and Tommy into a damp field of grass.

It took Tommy a moment to regain his bearing. He was still disoriented, but he saw a small hill rising to his left, dotted with tall, rounded stones. It took him a moment to realize they were graves. He was in a cemetery. His brow furrowed. “Where the hell are we?” he asked, helping Harry to his feet. “I dunno,” Cedric said confusedly. The teen was disoriented, but he seemed to have more of his wits about him than Harry did. “I think someone turned the Cup into a portkey.” “Well, obviously,” Tommy said, hand dipping into his inventory for his sword. “Still doesn’t tell us where we are though.” Suddenly, a small, snake-like voice croaked out, “Kill the spare.”

“Avada Kedavra!” A bolt of sickly green light shot out from behind the graves. It hit Cedric square in the chest before Tommy had even so much as a chance to cry out a warning. The older teen dropped to the ground silently, a tangle of robes and limbs. Harry checked him over, but Tommy could tell by the paleness of his skin that he was already dead.

He drew his sword, but before he could find his enemy, a bolt of red light hit him, and he dropped his blade. Tommy fell to the ground frozen, and after a moment, Harry fell beside him. “Very good, Wormtail,” the same snake-like voice said. “Now, as we discussed.” Tommy heard footsteps, and then there was a small hand twisting into the back of his robes, nails digging into his skin. There was a soft grunt, and then his captor was dragging him across the damp grass. “Tommy,” Harry whispered, scared. “What do we do?”

Tommy’s mind was whirling, but he was frozen. He was frozen in place and at the mercy of Wormtail. There was nothing he could do. Not yet, at least. Suddenly, he was slammed up against something hard and rough. A small shockwave rang through his skull and dirty hands yanked his arms behind him. Coarse rope wrapped around his wrists. The stupify hex he had been hit with was wearing off by now, but he was already trapped. There was nothing he could do. He heard Harry hit the grave next to him with a small thud, and after a moment, he too, was helpless.

Wormtail yanked the teens’ wands from their robes and stuffed them into his pocket. For the first time, Tommy managed to get a good look at where he was. He was at the top of the hill. A mausoleum rose in front of him, a cauldron sitting at the base of the steps, a small bundle fo black cloth at the foot. Wormtail aimed his wand at the base of the cauldron, and flames erupted under its base. Sparks danced across the surface of the water, illuminating the grave in a ghostly white light.

Wormtail bent down and undid the bundle of cloth, lifting a small creature into the air. It was grotesque and only vaguely human shaped. It was the same size as a newborn child, but there was nothing innocent about it. Wormtail raised the thing above the cauldron and gently lowered it into the water. Tommy saw Harry murmuring a prayer under his breath. “Please let it have drowned. Please.” Tommy knew they weren’t that lucky though. He still whispered the prayer anyways.

Wormtail raised his wand slightly and began to recite a spell. “Bone of the father.” The ground at Harry’s feet cracked and greyish white dust floated up. “Unknowingly given.” Tommy craned his neck to see that Harry’s grave read “Tom Riddle.”

“Flesh of the servant,” Wormtail continued, voice beginning to shake. “W-willingly given.” From the fold of his robes, he drew a knife. The metal gleamed in the moonlight, and too late, Tommy realized what he was going to do. He turned away as Wormtail brought the knife down on his arm, and tried to ignore the sounds of metal cutting through muscle, skin, and bone.

Wormtail let out a single whimper of pain, but then he forced himself to his feet and lurched towards Tommy and Harry. The two teens scrambled back, but they had nowhere to go. Tommy’s eyes darted around the graveyard, looking for a solution, but Wormtail was too close. He raised his knife above his head, and Tommy braced for the blow. Instead, the point of the weapon dug into the skin of Harry’s forearm.

A jagged cut stretched from the boy’s elbow to halfway down his forearm, and Wormtail’s knife gleamed red. “Blood of the enemy, unwillingly given.” Wormtail’s voice shook with pain, but he held his knife steady as a drop of blood splashed into the cauldron. “You will resurrect your foe.”

The light of the cauldron suddenly turned to a dark, crimson red and sparks danced along the surface of the water. Wormtail dropped to the ground in a heap, clutching his arm to his chest. Tommy watched as the spell performed it’s magic, hardly daring to breathe.

Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the sparks were gone. White light filled the sky, turning night into day, and thick fog filled the air. From in the cauldron rose a slim figure, everything about it radiating wrongness. Everything in Tommy was screaming to run, but he was trapped. The figure spread its arms and said, “Wormtail.” It was the same snake-like voice as earlier. Wormtail whimpered, but he stumbled to his feet anyways. “Robe me,” the figure commanded. Wormtail grabbed the bundle of cloth and awkwardly slipped it over his master’s shoulder’s. The figure turned around and Tommy finally got a good look at his face.

It was flat, the eyes barely more than slits, nose flat and grotesque. He was pale, paler even than Cedric had been in death. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “Harry,” Tommy whispered, a note of fear beginning to creep into his voice. “Who is that?” “It’s him. He’s back. Lord Voldemort.”

Voldemort slithered over to Wormtail, who was now kneeling on the ground, sleeve of his robes covered in blood. The Dark Lord rested his hand gently on Wormtail’s head, and the man glanced up, pleading in his eyes. “Please, my lord. You-you promised.” “You’re arm, Wormtail,” Voldemort commanded. Wormtail began to extend his injured arm, but at his master’s sharp glance, he bared his other one.

Slowly, the Dark Lord reached for a dark mark that rested in the crook of his servant’s arm. As soon as he touched it, Wormtail doubled over in pain, and Harry cried out scar burning. “That should summon them,” Voldemort said. Then, he smiled. He turned and crept towards Harry and Tommy. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the boy who lived,” he greeted, cupping Harry’s chin in the palm of his hand. The teen’s breathing was shallow, face tight with pain. “How ironic that you’ll die tonight.” There was silence for a moment, but then he turned his attention to Tommy. “Ah, and the fiery friend.” Tommy’s jaw clenched in defiance, but his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Why are we here?” he spat, struggling against his bindings. He had an axe in his inventory, but it would do him no good if he was still trapped.

Voldemort shook his head as if he was explaining something to a child. It irritated Tommy. “Well, you see, I needed the famous Harry Potter here for the ritual. And now that he’s served his purpose, It’ll be my pleasure to finally finish what I started the night I killed his parents.”

Harry still looked terrified, but Tommy could see the hint of anger that crept into his eyes at the mention of his parents. “And I needed you,” Voldemort continued, digging his fingers into Tommy’s hair, and forcing the teen to meet his eyes. “Because a very special ally of mine requested your presence here tonight.” “W-what ally?” Tommy hated the fear in his voice. Voldemort laughed softly under his breath. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll understand in no time. After all, he seems quite certain the two of you know each other.”

Suddenly, a loud crack filled the air, and Tommy glanced up to see that a figure in dark robes and white skull-like mask had appeared in front of the mausoleum. “Ah,” Voldemort said, standing to greet the newcomer. “You’ve finally arrived.” More cracks filled the air, and a few seconds later, a total of fourteen death eaters stood in the clearing.

Voldemort examined them and no one dared utter a word. Then he rattled off a list of names that Tommy didn’t recognize as he surveyed his servants. He paused on one at the end of the line. “Lucius,” he greeted. “Wonderful that you could join us tonight.” The Death Eater shuffled awkwardly, but didn’t say anything. So Malfoy’s dad really was a Death Eater. Tommy couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid.

Voldemort’s gaze drifted towards the Death Eater at the back. They were different from the others; their cloak was bulkier and their mask sent a shiver of fear down Tommy’s spine. “So you came yourself,” Voldemort said, a hint of surprise to his voice. The Death Eater simply nodded. “So,” the Dark Lord said, now addressing the whole group. “You are my most loyal followers. How disappointing. Of course, there are those who are still trapped in Azkaban. And we mustn't forget our two fellows trapped at Hogwarts. But so few of you heeded my call. I must say, I was expecting more.” No one said anything.

After a moment, Voldemort said, “I have called you here today, not only to see that your master has been resurrected, but also so that you may finally see me triumph over the great Harry Potter.” An excited murmur ran through the group. “Wormtail,” Voldemort commanded. “Free the boy. Return his wand. It would be best to kill him in a duel. Prove once and for all that I am stronger than a pathetic teenager.”

Wormtail did as he was told, freeing Harry from his bindings, and shoving the boy’s wand roughly into his hand. Harry was clearly still disoriented, and Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if the teen’s scar was brutally painful. He was shaking, injured leg barely supporting his weight, but Harry looked every inch a match for Voldemort. He stepped towards his adversary, and the Death Eaters closed around the two, blocking them from sight. There was silence for a moment, but then two voices shouted “Avada Kedavra!”

Tommy’s fingers worked at the knots frantically, desperately trying to free himself. If only he could get his axe, he could help Harry. Finally, he felt the rope fall away and loosen. But before he could draw his weapon, the strange Death Eater stalked towards him, sword drawn. Tommy leapt to his feet, yanking his axe out of his inventory, and barely raising it in time to block the blow.

The metal of the Death Eater’s blade dug into the hilt of his axe, splintering the wood. Tommy twisted his own weapon, disentangling himself from the Death Eater’s blade. He stumbled back, dodging the Death Eater's thrust at his abdomen. He caught the edge of the sword on the crook of his axe, and twisted it upwards, knocking the sword from his opponent's grasp. He slammed the hilt of his axe into the Death Eater’s head, and the wizard stumbled back with a grunt.

Now the other Death Eater’s began taking notice and drew their wands. Before Tommy could do anything though, the air filled with phoenix song, and everyone turned to see a net of golden light surrounding Harry and Voldemort as they rose into the air.

Tommy took advantage of the distraction to make his way over to Wormtail, Quickly he searched the man’s robes for his wand, and sighed in relief once he found it. Unfortunately, the Death Eater’s had recovered from their shock, and stunning spells were flying past Tommy.

He dove to the ground as curses flew over him, firing back at as many targets as he could. At least three of his spells hit, and the volley of curses lessened just enough that Tommy was able to scramble to his feet.

He fired spells blindly as he sprinted down the hill, trying to reach the sword he had dropped. A jelly-legs jinx curse hit, and suddenly, he was tumbling head over heels down the hillside. He crashed into a gravestone, knocking it askew. Quickly, he cast the counter curse and scrambled to his feet. He braced himself for more spells, but none came. He turned his attention towards the top of the hill.

The phoenix sound had grown louder, and the light from Harry and Voldemort’s wand was blindingly bright. The two weapons were connected with a beam of golden light, and figures surrounded Harry, protecting him. Tommy couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Cedric among them. Suddenly, the net dissolved, and Harry dropped to the ground. “Harry!” Tommy cried out, worried.

Suddenly, the dark-haired teen came sprinting out from the mass of Death Eaters, green Avada Kedavra spells just barely missing him. “Harry!” Tommy called again, waving to him. Harry dove to the ground, rolling down the hill, trying to dodge the killing spells. Tommy scooped up his sword, and dropped his axe into his inventory. Behind him, the Triwizard cup began to glow blue. “Tommy!” Harry yelled frantically, skidding to a stop at his friend's side. “We need to get out of here!”

Tommy nodded, and pointed to the portkey. “It’ll take us home. But we need to go. Now.” Harry nodded. He grabbed the portkey, other hand resting on Cedric’s back. At the very least, the boy deserved to be brought back to his family. Tommy grabbed the other handle of the Cup, and suddenly, he was yanked forward. It was only then did he realize that the strange Death Eater’s robes were green. Green robes and a white mask.

-Gemstone Anon.

Oh my god. Okay. This is beautiful. I have read this like 10 times now. Oh my god. This is- This is brilliant.

#dream smp #dream smp au #gremlins in hogwarts au #harry potter #tommyinnit #ask #long post #gemstone anon #fanfic #drabble #i don't know if it drabble or fanfic #so here we go #this is amazing

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delvine · 2 years

Text

beautiful blossom in tainted lungs

author's note : it's shameful how long this has been in my google docs, but chapter three!!! we're here!! just so y'all know, this is a piece that i actually wanna complete so bad (or at least, let it catch up to the manga) cause it's been in my head so long. so prepare for that and enjoy!! <3

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

warnings : cussing, mention of blood and death, threatening

pairing : megumi fushiguro x black!fem!reader

word count : 4K

“I refuse. Even if the me inside you dies, my soul is still cut into 18 pieces. Though frustratingly the one who controls this body is not me. If you want me to take over then that’s fine. But when that happens, before I go for the cursed spirit, I’ll kill those two brats first. Next is that woman. It’s full of vitality. It seems like I’ll be able to have some fun.”

‘I’ll show you what’s an ‘it’,’ you thought, but you held yourself back from barking, knowing that it could only make things much worse than they already were. You could only frown as Itadori told the cursed spirit he shared his body with that he wouldn’t let that happen. “That’s what I thought. But if all you’re concerned about is me, your friends will definitely die.”

You watched the special grade curse before you, inhaling deeply, and you already stood aside as it made its blow between Itadori and you & Fushiguro. You noted how the curse just lashed its magical power, not even using sorcery, as it giggled. It almost reminded you of Kokoro, the malice in its actions and how openly it was enjoying itself in the process. It was disgusting, infuriating even. “Fushiguro! Nomura! Take Kugisaki with you and run away from here!”

“There’s no way I can do that! There’s a high-grade opponent right there!” Megumi objected and although you wanted to agree, you knew where Yuji came from. “Look closely. It’s having fun. It’s totally underestimating us. We can at least try to buy time,” Itadori responded and you nodded in understanding, though Fushiguro still didn’t and still argued. “There’s no use-”

“Fushiguro, it’s the best we can do,” you interjected and you looked from him to Itadori. “You better not make me regret this,” you said to the pink haired boy and he nodded determinedly. “I’m counting on you guys.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Search for Kugisaki!” Fushiguro commanded his demon dog.

While Fushiguro sprinted through the unfamiliar halls, you used your plant manipulation to keep up with his speed, carrying yourself through leafs and vines. Though the sound of footsteps and growing plants dominated the echoes of the hallways, it felt dead silent. With your heart beating rapidly in your chest and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you could only think of Kugisaki and Itadori, hoping they were still alive. “Nomura.”

You turned towards Fushiguro, stopping your movements abruptly. “She’s in here.” he signed towards the floor the demon dog was barking at. You placed your hand on the floorpiece, weeds slowly spreading on the metal, making it grow moldy. “Think you can break through?”

He knew you could, which made you scoff. You bawled your hand into a fist and raised it as high as you could. “Don’t patronize me, Fushiguro.” You barely felt a scratch as you punched through the metal. Megumi summoned his Great Serpent and Toad as he got a view of the cursed spirits that got Kugisaki in their clutches. He let the snake shikigami attack them as the toad got a hold of Nobara. “I’m not good with frogs.”

“Well too bad!” Fushiguro exclaimed as he looked at you, who was ready to take on the remaining two mushroom-looking cursed spirits. “Nomura!”

“Go already! I’ll be there with you guys. Just give me a minute,” you said, your lower body getting into a firm squat as roots came out from the ground under your feet. A new use of your plant manipulation you learned recently. You barely even thought of plants growing from other parts of your body than just your hands. You smiled slightly at Yuji’s suggestion that got you to learn the technique. You noticed Fushiguro and Nobara leaving and you looked the cursed spirits in the eyes. An unknown sensation of adrenaline rushed through your blood and you sensed the slight pinch of fear coming from them. You moved the roots under your feet to get to the height of the curses and conjured long branches with sharp ends to thoroughly stab the two with. The hit made them both land on the ground, screeching in pain. Standing between them, they tried to reach for and attack you, but you noticed the great serpent being done with the grand one that held Kugisaki. “Yo scaly!”

The shikigami’s head turned towards you and you pointed at the two cursed spirits, still laying on the ground. It wasted no time as it devoured the spirits and then shifted itself towards you, waiting for any other commands, but it was met with your praise instead. “Good boy,” you cooed at the shikigami snake as you stroked the scales under its chin. It closed its eyes at the touch in contentment and soon vanished. You turned to the exit of the building, whispering an apology to Itadori for the wait, but soon found your way at the departure of the building. The demon dog seemed to wait for your arrival, as it immediately howled as you stepped outside. You petted its head swiftly and let yourself collapse next to Fushiguro.

“Y/N,” Megumi called to you, voice sounding fatigued, but you couldn’t blame him. The mission was exhausting.

“Hm,” you let out in response, your eyes closed, thinking it would help listening to your friend. “I’m staying behind,” he stated, sounding determined and you opened one eye to catch a glimpse of him before adjusting yourself and sitting up.

“Alright, but then we should-”

“No. I’m staying behind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on! Mama will be mad if we stay here any later,” your brother said, trying to drag you back, but you got yourself out of your brother’s grasps. “No! Just tell her I’m here,” you objected and picked up the flowers you accidentally dropped on the grounds of the forests. Your brother still wanted you to come with him, but huffed in annoyance at your stubborn nature. “Fine! Just make sure you don’t regret anything when she scolds you!” he exclaimed and ran back to the house. You looked up to him running, but soon went back to the flowers. “How were these ones called again?” you questioned yourself, trying to dive deep in your memory of the name of the flower. “Kinmoo...kuuusei? Kinmokusei! It must be!” you exclaimed to yourself in joy and you observed the orange osmanthus. You stepped further into the forest, trying to look for more of autumn’s flowers. What a beautiful day of fall it was. November 1st, 2011.

You tried to walk further, but felt a sudden hesitancy waver over you. Is this really okay? Your parents barely got mad at you for wandering off in here. They were confident you knew this place better than even the gardeners. Then why do you feel this way? Maybe you should’ve gone with your brother, but that thought of guilt was interrupted by numerous screams you could barely hear. You turned your head, worried as you knew the place where it was coming from was your home. You dropped the flowers, running as fast as you could. You now only realized how deep into the forest you’ve gotten and prayed that everyone was alright. That you just heard something. Because it must be your imagination, right? Your family must be fine. They must be.

Blood.

That was the new decoration that covered the outside of your home. Every part of your body shook in horror of the sight before you. Your family, your friends, they were…

“No...nonono NO!” you exclaimed to yourself and went into your home, not even noticing the tears streaming down your face. You slammed the door open and screamed at what you saw. Your brother..your father and your mother. “Mama! Wake up. Wake up, please! Please,” you sobbed, trying to cradle your mother and reach for your father next to you. The screams you let out were deafening and tiring. Your voice was filled with remorse and grief.

“Poor girl.”

You flinched at the sudden, unfamiliar voice, but knew you had to defend yourself. You grabbed the bamboo stick your mother still had a hold of and you stood up, trying to stop your trembling. You looked up at the being before you, a cursed spirit in a human form and you tighten your grip. As the curse tried to get closer, you pointed the stick at it, which made it raise its arms. “Woah, Easy now. I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re lying! You...Did- Did you do this?” you asked, pointing to your dead family. “No. I didn’t. I promise,” the curse said, but you remained hesitant, so the curse introduced itself. “I’m Kokoro, you wanna tell me your name?”

You sniffed, but furthermore remained silent. “No? Well that’s fine. Will you remain here?”

“I..don’t know,” you said, sniffling once again and the cursed spirit approached you. “You could join us, if you wanted to.”

“Us?”

“Yes. I have friends out there waiting for me. You’d get along so well with them,” he said in an almost mockery tone to you, but you were too intimidated to ask him if he was. The energy in the room soon shifted, from pity to slight malice. But even when Kokoro tried to hold back his cursed energy, it was overwhelming to you. The sweet, young, poor you. You could barely make a sound as the special grade cursed spirit reached out his hand to you. With the movement itself, you felt threatened that you would be hurt if you didn’t take it, and so you did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have to carry out my responsibility to deal with him.”

“We can deal with him together, Fushiguro!”

“Nomura-”

“No!! Don’t do this to me now! I’m in a perfect state right now. I can help so do not shut me out!” You were shocked by your own words. By the unspoken truth now being spoken. Megumi & you weren’t the type to open up, more so you both had numerous walls built around you. With the way you seemed to get closer to each other, sometimes you or him broke down a wall that was too close to you, you’d build everything back up again.

“Fuck,” you sighed in frustration and your gaze shifted from the boy in front of you to the grounds. “You’re not going to let me stay, are you?”

“No.”

“What will you do to get me out of here?”

“Anything,” Megumi said without skipping a beat. Not a single bit of him wanted to risk another life, especially yours. The response made you sigh, hoping you wouldn’t regret your decision. “Fine. I’ll go. You deal with him.”

As you headed into the back of Ijchi’s car, you bit the inside of your cheek, secretly hoping both Megumi and Itadori would be okay. Making promises now would be childish, all you could do was hope. As Megumi told Ijchi to bring a special grade sorcerer after he dropped both you and Nobara off, you could only put your hands into fists in frustration. Why couldn’t you do anything?

You silently huffed in frustration and could rarely relax as you felt the car moving.

“You did well, Nomura.”

Your head focused from your fists to the rear view mirror, meeting Ijchi’s eyes. “The fact that you’re still alive and not injured is rare for a sorcerer your age and grade. All that you did there you should be proud of,” he reassured you and you smiled in gratitude, relaxing just a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What?” you asked in disbelief and denial. “He’s dead, Nomura,” Megumi stated again. How fucking awful it felt to hear your last name now. You bit your lip, frustrated. Almost infuriated. “Shit..SHIT!” you exclaimed, throwing your bamboo stick away to the ground. You trembled in response to the news, overwhelming feelings being thrown to you at once. You couldn’t even look at your classmate before you, scared to show any more of your emotion. How out of control you felt angered you even further and made your hands into fists again.

You should’ve done more. You should’ve been stronger. You should’ve been able to protect them. Protect your friends. Just like your friends would protect you. How they’d be able to not even be close to giving up their life. That was because they were strong. Why weren’t you strong? Why aren’t you strong?

“Fushiguro, am I poisonous?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “What? No, Y/N-”

“It’s just, everyone I am too close with..dies. Everyone I touch dies. I just- don’t want what happened to my family or Yuji or anyone that gets involved into this Jujutsu nonsense. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. Especially you and Kugisaki,” you said, calming down with every word you spoke. You were sick. Sick of the repeating cycles in your head and tired of the thought of death, of curses. All that your young self surrounded herself with at such an early age.

“Y/N.”

The sudden touch of Megumi’s hand holding yours shocked you slightly, but the movement of your hands slowly intertwining made you look up at the boy before you.

“You are not poisonous. Yuji’s death is not your fault, okay?”

“It isn’t?” you sniffled looking down at your fingers that were tangled with Megumi’s.

“You followed through with him immediately, believing in him. If anything he’s grateful for your trust in him. So this is not your fault. And neither is the death of your family.”

Your eyebrows raised at the mention of your family. No one ever told you that. That you weren’t at fault for the death of your loved ones. It was obvious for them, you would guess. But you could only put yourself to irrational blame for the inevitable circumstances. You relaxed your body against Fushiguro and he wrapped his other hand around your waist, holding you firmly against him. His chin placed lightly on your head made you giggle a little, breaking the silence and you took a deep breath. “Thank you,” you sighed and you felt him smile slightly, though he didn’t say anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, how sweet of him~”

Your face was bruised up from the hits that Kokoro sent your way while explaining the mission. You didn’t know why you said that Fushiguro comforted you, it just blurted out. “Hm. Oh well. At least those sorcerers taught you some durability.”

You were confused by your ‘mentor’s’ statement until you realized you were still standing. After all the hits where you’d regularly would be knocked down, you were still standing. You were silently amazed by yourself. The adrenaline was coming back and you charged towards Kokoro only to have him hold your wrists tightly. You struggled against his grip, but it only tightened, his nails close to piercing your skin. You hissed in pain and stopped your movement. Kokoro kissed his teeth at your behavior. “The more you hang around those shamans, the more of a brat you become.”

“Poor you,” you retorted and Kokoro didn’t hesitate to slash the skin of your wrists as punishment. You bared with the pain, letting the cursed spirit show little to no response at his operant conditioning. It didn’t work on you anymore. You needed to let him know that. He hummed at your actions, maybe even your thoughts. “You must really like him, don’t you?”

“I’m holding up my end of the deal.”

“Curses don’t care about their deals, my blossom. Haven’t I explained that to you? The curses in forests and cities are merciless. They don’t have a single shred of that humanity that you seem to love so much. All they have are the most negative thoughts and in these areas, they carry wisdom with it as well.”

Kokoro was right, you knew that. But you also knew him and how he worked. There was not a single chance that he wouldn’t break your deal without you breaking it first.

“If you even think about coming near him-”

“What, foolish girl?”

Foolish girl. That name sent you back to your first days that you were with Kokoro. A term of degradation. Calling you weak, naive and ignorant. He really believed you didn’t change a bit from those days and the wrath you felt from that knowledge was ablazing, like a fire was lit under the ends of your soul.

“I’ll kill you,” you said and you released yourself from his grip, grabbed the bamboo stick that was left behind in the fight once again and made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. All the while, the ear piercing and menacing laughter of Kokoro echoed through the forest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t get the threat out of your head. It was as much of an impulse as it was the truth. Kokoro indirectly or directly hurting your friends would crush you, but you hardly understood how fast you got attached to your classmates. Maybe it was the closest thing to humanity. You spent your life long enough with curses, you convinced yourself that you were one too. Your emotions going from high to overwhelmingly low made you realize you’re a lot more human than you thought. Hearing Megumi tell how Yuji died the second time didn’t hurt as bad as you thought, but you couldn’t guess how Nobara would feel about it.

“He told us to live long.”

“But all your problems vanish when you die...is this your first time one of your comrades died?” she asked and Megumi answered honestly. You didn’t need much time to think about it either. “Hmph. You both seem oddly fine.”

“...You too.”

“Well, I only knew him for about two weeks. I’m not such a soft woman, that I could cry over the death of someone like him,” Nobara reasoned, though you could notice the slight trembling on her lip as she tried to bite it back. You placed your hands behind to support yourself as you leaned back, eyes on the single white cloud that covered the blue sky, while you could hear your classmate’s short banter on the weather.

“What the hell? You’re more depressed than ever, Megumi. Is this a wake?” an unfamiliar voice asked and you lowered your head a bit to see a girl. Black hair with bangs and put up in a ponytail, glasses that covered her hazel eyes and a lengthy bag with what you could guess was a cursed tool. She was rather tall and with her approach you would say she is rather the straight forward type. “Zenin-senpai.”

“Don’t call me by my family na-” the girl tried to say before she was called by first name. You turned towards the ones calling her only to widen your eyes at the panda that seemed to talk. “He really did die. Yesterday! A boy from first year!”

“Katsuobushi flakes!” the boy that semi-hid behind the tree with the panda said and you quirked up your eyebrow at that. A peculiar bunch.

“Say. It. Earlier! I’LL SEEM LIKE A COLD, HEARTLESS DEVIL!”

“Actually, that’s exactly what you are, you know?!”

“Tuna mayo.”

You watched in amusement at the arguing from the three individuals before you as you tilted your head to the left. “The second years?”

“Yup. Our second year senpais. Zenin-senpai, she’s the best at handling charms out of us students. Inumaki-senpai, a specialist in spells. His only vocabulary is onigiri ingredients. And that’s Panda-senpai. There’s one more; Okkotsu-senpai. He’s the only one I can openly respect, but he’s overseas now.”

“Are you seriously gonna leave the panda’s introduction at ‘Panda’?” Nobara asked which you wanted to as well.

“Oh, sorry guys. You’re still in mourning, but I want you to attend the Kyoto sister school exchange.”

“What is that?” you asked as you stood up, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “It’s a joint program with the other magic technical college in Kyoto,” Megumi explained and you nodded in quick understanding. “But the event is mainly for second and third years, right?”

“Those third-year halfwits are suspended from school. We don’t have enough people, so you guys gotta go.”

Well, how lucky you got. The thought of the event itself sounded exciting enough to have you smile only slightly. Finally a distraction and a way to get stronger. “What do you do during the program? Super smash bros?” Nobara asked intrigued. “Tokyo school and Kyoto school. The match types proposed by each school principal will be given one day each. The event is carried out over two days. Well, that’s the official consensus. Every year, the first day is a team match and the second one is an individual match.”

In your head you already made your mind up on joining the program. Training you trusted the second year senpais with, they seemed strong and reliable. Labor shortage concerned you a little bit, but it didn’t change your point of view on the event. The only real worry you had was your agreement. You couldn’t keep your word now, but you knew it would rather do you harm than good. Kokoro was strong and sadistic, he would in fact beat you around more if he knew you already wore yourself out during the day. But nonetheless, you wanted to become stronger. You would become stronger and you were willing to do anything for that. “I’ll do it.”

“But if I think the gruelling training or the exchange is useless, I’ll stop immediately,” Nobara added and you and Megumi both agreed on that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re so slow, Megumi. What were you doing?”

“It doesn’t matter, right?” Megumi said as he approached Maki & Toge, while Nobara was busy being chased by Panda. He looked around for you, seeing you weren’t in sight. “Where’s Nomura?”

“She said she’d fetch some more cursed tools for you and her, but she hasn’t been back in a while,” Maki answered, only for Megumi to see you skipping back with tools at hand. As you exclaimed you made it back, you excitedly walked towards the three, avoiding whatever Nobara and Panda-senpai were doing. “Zenin-senpai, what kind of people do you want to save as shaman?”

“Huh? I don’t give a damn about who I save.”

Well, he figured and as he mumbled how he shouldn’t have asked, he planned to ask you when you two would be alone. “I got them finally! Sorry for the wait,” you said as you approached Maki, which she waved off pretty quickly. “FUSHIGURO!!! THIS ISN’T THE TIME FOR A Q&A SESSION! NOMURA! SUB ME OUT! THIS BOY’S UNIFORM IS ALREADY BOTHERSOME! LET ME GO BUY A CUTE JERSEY!!!”

You watched with confusion and a little amazement as Panda seemed to toss Nobara around. “What are those two doing?” Megumi asked bluntly.

“Why are they doing it?” you added and lifted up your tools to toss one towards Megumi which he got a hold of. “It’s ‘cause you guys’ approach is weak, you know. First, take one of those from us. We’ll talk after that.”

And so while Megumi went along with Maki, you went and took Nobara’s place. As she immediately seemed to run away when she got her blessing, Panda turned towards you. “What you got?”

“Plant manipulation, inherited technique.”

“No limits?”

“None that I’m aware of,” you said confidently as you smirked and Panda grinned and seemed to notice your bamboo stick. “What’s that for?” he said as he pointed towards it. You knew it radiated no cursed energy, so him asking that was not surprising. “Personal good luck charm.”

“Personal?” Panda asked and you made your aura change only slightly to warn him not to get too nosy. As he sensed the change in cursed energy, he snickered and waved the topic off. “Let’s see how much good luck your charm gives you.”

#fic ; beautiful blossom in tainted lungs #— del writes 💌#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x black!reader #megumi imagine #megumi drabbles #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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im-frickin-trying-okay · 3 years

Text

Random BNHA Headcanons

(This is my first time doing this 😭)

Summary: A bunch of random BNHA headcanons. So, basically the title. The only reason I’m adding a read more is because I want it to be easier to navigate my page, lol

Bakugo is oddly nice when he first wakes up, but he's not exactly a morning person. He's less "I hate the world, why am I awake???" And more like "I'm extremely comfortable and the only thing that can ruin my mood is becoming less comfortable." He likes hovering between awake and asleep, y'know? Which is why if he's sleepy, his guard drops. When leaving the dorms, if he hasn't fully woken up, he goes from "outta my way, shitty-hair," to "mornin' Eijirou," and by the time he's actually aware of what he said, Kiri's already freaking out. If he's in bed all day for any reason other than being sick, he's probably soft for at least a few hours.

Kaminari's the type to wake up at 2 AM with an idea, go to jot it down, and then realize that he wrote a ten chapter book and now he's late for class. He'll probably put it into a google doc or something, so he can continue to add onto it throughout the day. I also feel like he probably will also randomly get a question and then spend hours researching it and any surrounding topics, before rambling to Kiri about "bro, if I went to the beach, I could make a bunch of glass! Probably! Maybe!" And then have to try and convince his friends that he can just make windows if anyone needs them.

Sero had added moves to his skill set, and practiced particular actions, with the sole intention of mimicking Spiderman. When Kirishima questions him on it, he compares Spiderman to Crimson Riot. They have a conversation that's essentially fanboying, both of them saying "we are not bringing All Might into this," and then more fanboying.

Jirou has an extremely eclectic music taste. If you can name a song, she probably knows it. She can memorize full melodies and all the lyrics within two or three listens, because she's just that good. Some people call her the human Shazam, because if you play the first five seconds of a song she likes, she'll immediately know what it is. She's also called out artists if they made a clear rip-off of a much better song. Her music taste is all over the place, which therefore makes it superior. However. This does not stop her from listening to the same six songs on repeat for a week. The six change a lot, though.

Koda has trouble with bugs, especially big ones. They scare him. But he has pretty much no issues with tigers, lions, horses, or even wolves. He loves animals, he really does. If you just showed up at his doorstep and shoved a bear cub in his arms, he wouldn't really question it, because he'd be happy to have a cute animal to play with.

Todoroki believes himself to be the opposite of moody. His definition of moody is switching emotions for no reason. He, personally, doesn't feel any emotion until something happens that day, be it a thought or an event, and his emotions stay fixed like that until something else happens. He could be having a great day, and then suddenly, it's a horrible day, and he can't figure out how people just "get over it." He does, however, find that unless something REALLY bad or REALLY good happens, his brain does a little emotional reset when he goes to sleep. Like, go to sleep feeling down, wake up feeling kinda meh.

Kirishima has considered re-dying his hair. Come on, hot pink is so manly! How could he not consider it? But he eventually resigns himself, because red just is his color now. Also, I feel like once, before dorms, he was really out of it, so he went to class with his hair down, and this was the first time anyone had seen him like that, and everyone was just confused as hell. Especially Bakugo. "Your hair's less shitty today. What the fuck."

Uraraka takes part in stupid bets all the time. Partially for the fun, and partially for the profit. She once floated Bakugo to the ceiling for 26 minutes before she had to put him down, because Kiri said that if she survived, he'd give her a dollar per minute. She ended up having to go to the recovery girl's office, but at least she got her money.

Mina is one of the few people who can understand and keep up with Deku's mumbling. This is not because she specifically tries to, (like Uraraka) or because she's known him long enough, (like Bakugo.) She's just used to gossipping with Hagakure at 4 AM, and therefore can understand high-speed low-volume speech. She's called him out on things before, but only when she's interested. She completely tunes out things about All Might and heroes and whatnot, but if he ever has anything to say about his classmates, specifically about Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugo, (because she, Hagakure, and Denki placed bets,) she hears every word.

Iida secretly loves to break the rules. He acts strict in front of anyone who he respects, or wants respect from, but after he thinks everyone's asleep, he relaxes, doing things that he considers rule-breaking without any remorse. Denki heard someone walking around outside while on one of his late-night internet searches. After finally willing himself to break away from an article about pandas, he popped his head out of the door to find Iida sneaking around. After some silent observation, Denki realized that not only did Iida just get back from breaking curfew, but he casually stole Hot Cheetos from Bakugo's room on the way back to his dorm. He said nothing the next day, at least not directly, but he sorta shoved Sero and Iida in the same room so that they could be bad influences on each other.

Despite it being a major part of her quirk, Hagakure almost never feels invisible. She has a lot of friends to talk to, she can wear cool outfits to stand out, and she is always talking. The only time she's not talking is during stealth training, and when she's using said stealth training to spy on people.

Tsu's little "ribbit" thing is actually just for fun. It feels right to do it, so she does it. Nothing wrong with that. However, pretty much everyone else assumed it was a part of her quirk. It took an insane amount of convincing to get that idea out of their heads. Deku was proud to be one of the few who never actually associated it with her quirk. He could prove it if he wanted to, actually, but that would require showing someone his notebook, which would open a whole other can of worms.

Oh yeah, speaking of Deku's notebook, he has multiple. Six to be exact. One is on his fellow classmates, one is on most pros, one is on the LOV, one is specifically on All Might, one is on his own quirk development, and the last one is a narrative of what's happening in his life, which is why he's constantly thinking as if he's telling a story. He mentally narrates everything that happens in his life, although he sometimes wonders if he's dramatizing things because of that. His internal monologue is constantly running its mouth, and sometimes he ends up speaking over it.

Tokoyami really likes plague doctors. He just does. He wants a plague doctor mask so he can walk around with less judgement, or maybe more, who knows? He just loved the concept. He claims that they're just really cool, which most people agree with, but he's never told any of them that he likes them because he saw a plague doctor mask for the first time at the age of six, and immediately thought bird man.

Sato likes baking, but he can't cook normally to save his life. Well, he can, but he can't. He hasn't burned water, and he knows how to do the very basics, but he can't function without a recipe, not to mention the fact that he's googled how to saute mushrooms three times and still doesn't get it. Baking comes pretty naturally. Exact measurements, precise times and temperatures. Cooking does not. Eyeballing ingredient amounts, guessing if the flame is high enough, trying to figure out how often 'stir occasionally' is. He actually once asked Bakugo if he had advice, to which he responded, "Why the hell are you asking me?!"

107 notes · View notes

yuckydraws · 3 years

Note

A writing prompt, hmm? Why don't you try writing some fluff with horror sans? (he's one of your favorites right?) Maybe going on a picnic?

He very much is one of my faves<3 thanks for the prompt bro!!

Okay so this is mostly fluff but I threw the tiniest bit of angst in there, but it’s very mild (tbh I’m not sure I could even call it angst). Just to give it some plot;)

Also sorry for the awkward spacing I pasted this from Google docs and tumblr is being difficult >:(

(HT!Sans/reader)

•••••••

“Hey, how willing would you be to put on this blindfold and come with me?” You ask your skeleton boyfriend as you lounge on the couch, blindfold in hand.

“.... huh?” Sans blinks at you in confusion. He was on his way to sit on the couch when you spring the question on him. It stops him in his tracks, leaving him to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“I said, how willing are you to put on this blindfold and come with me?” You repeat yourself, holding up the blindfold excitedly. Yeah that might not be the best way to phrase it, but hey, you’ve made it this far - might as well commit. He stares at the offending object, squinting a bit with his one eyelight.

“... no.”

“C'mon, please?”

“no.”

“Please?”

“no.”

“Why not?” You pout and he gets a twinge of maroon on his cheekbones.

“... why do i need… to wear a blindfold?” He asks while averting his gaze from your pout. You take it in stride and instead shift your position on the couch to meet his gaze again, smiling up at him.

“Because it’s a surprise!”

“don’t like surprises…” Despite his words, it’s obvious you’re wearing him down.

“It’s a good surprise!”

Sans doesn’t look entirely convinced. You stand up and grab one of his large hands in both of your small ones (at least small compared to his), and give him a reassuring squeeze.

“I promise.” You both don’t use this word lightly.

Sans stares down at you.

You stare back.

“... ok.” He caves.

“Yay! Now lean down big guy, I need to be able to tie this.” He complies, staring at you until his sockets are eventually covered. You’re careful of the gaping hole in his skull and make sure not to tie it too tight - to avoid potentially irritating his dead socket. When you finish you take advantage of his close face and kiss him on the cheek, causing him to purr and lean into the kiss.

“Pfft- you dork! C’mon, you’re gonna love it!” You say as you pull away and grab his hand to start leading him out of the front door. He was wearing his slippers, so thankfully you didn’t have to awkwardly attempt to put shoes on him. You hold back a snort at the mental image of yourself sliding shoes onto his gargantuan feet like a princess. Though you are quickly sobered when you almost trip on a porch step, leaving you to focus on helping Sans down the porch steps and leading him to your shared vehicle.

You help him get situated in the seat. In hindsight, perhaps the blindfold could’ve waited until your huge skeleton boyfriend was already in the car? Ah well, guess you both could be scatterbrained sometimes.

You smile, amused, as you remember how you both had to buy this huge van just so Sans could sit comfortably.

It’s a struggle but he’s eventually in his seat, buckled and relaxed, while you start the van and back out of the driveway. As your drive begins you turn the radio on low - hoping to ease any nerves he may still have by giving him something to focus on, while not being loud enough to give him a headache. You glance at him, feeling a bit nervous.

You guys have been dating for about four years now, and you couldn’t be happier! After three years of dating (and Papyrus going off to medical school) you both bought a small little house in the outskirts of Ebott city, and the past year had been domestic bliss for the two of you. Of course, you’ve had your ups and downs, but overall Sans has been the sweetest boyfriend you’ve ever had. He may not be much of a conversationalist, but he makes up for that with his actions. That one game you had mentioned you wanted to play once? It was on your shared nightstand a few days later. That snack he knows you like? The house is always stocked with them. Having a bad day? He will not hesitate to draw you a nice bath, pamper you, and/or initiate cuddles and kisses.

No matter what, he always finds a way to express his love for you, and lately you’ve been feeling undeserving of this almost? No that’s not the right word. You just felt like you could be doing more. Because you, on the other hand, are amazing with your words. You enjoy watching his face turn that beautiful deep maroon and hearing his purrs stutter the more he’s flustered by your words. You love to see him relax in your arms as you give him words of affirmation and assurance on bad days. You remind him of your love for him everyday and you give him all the sweet nothings he could ever want, but acts of service has always been a struggle for you. Of course, Sans never seems bothered and he’s never given you the impression that he wants more from you, but you want to try because he absolutely deserves it.

You also may have found his little pocketbook full of notes he takes throughout the day full of notes about you, your jokes, your stories, and little things you had mentioned. Due to his unfortunate head injury, he wasn’t always the best at remembering certain little things. You knew he was working on getting better, but you never pressured him to tell you how - it seemed like he didn’t want to share. You honestly felt bad you had found the book and snooped, but seeing just how much he writes about you in the notes more than anything else was just too sweet. It almost made you cry. Almost.

Ah who are you kidding? You definitely teared up.

So, you planned a little surprise date, full of his favorite things combined. The outdoors, food, and you - a picnic by the lake a little bit away from your home. After the hell monsters went through underground, most of them have a deep appreciation for the sky and full bellies (or what would be akin to a belly for them). Sans is no different, so you were hoping he’d take a liking to it.

“... how long... will the surprise take?” The question surprised you a bit, not only because it pulled you out of your musings, but because he’s usually very patient. That is, until you take in his stiff posture and realize the issue. Dinnertime is soon and he doesn’t quite know when you both will be eating.

“Don’t worry hon, we’ll have food soon,” You feel okay letting that bit of the surprise known. Despite being on the surface for almost seven years, Sans tends to get very nervous when you guys don’t stick to a schedule with meals. No need to keep him anxious. Especially considering you were pulling into the clearing of the lakeside. “In fact, we’re here!”

You put the van in park and tell Sans to wait for a second. Hopping out, you walk to the back of the van and open the back doors to grab the picnic basket you had packed. Once you make your way closer to the lakeside you quickly lay out the picnic blanket as well as place a folded blanket nearby in case it got a bit chilly. You then set up the food for a cute presentation, leaving the last part of the surprise you had for Sans in the basket. Jogging back to the van, you open Sans’ door to see he had already unbuckled himself. Guess he’s a bit more excited for the surprise than he let on earlier.

“Come on big guy, you’ve waited long enough” You grab his hand, help him out of the van and start leading him to the blacket set up.

“Can you lean down again?” You ask when you get to it. He does so and you gently take off his blindfold, making sure the fabric doesn’t catch on his skull injury or the rough bone near his dead socket. Once it’s off you gesture dramatically to the blanket. “Ta da!”

Sans stands straight up again and blinks a bit, overlooking the blanket at first, expecting something more near his sightline. Following where you're gesturing however, his eyelight eventually lands on the picnic blanket below. He still looks a bit confused. You were prepared for this type of reaction, many human activities such as picnics can be completely foreign to monsters - same for some monster activities being completely foreign to humans. You guys have had your fair share of these moments where you both have had to do a bit of explaining.

“what…?” He looks at you for an answer.

“It’s called a picnic. You pack food, take it to a scenic area, lay down a blanket, sit down, and eat. It’s sort of considered a cheesy romantic date idea, but I like them and I thought you would too... in fact I should’ve thought to take you on one of these sooner in our relationship! I actually had this idea last month, but it was too cold… also, most of the time picnics are a lunchtime date, but I like them during the sunset. It’s been awhile since our last date, huh?” You look up at him after your question to see him looking at the blanket with his face slightly red.

“... yeah i guess it has.” He has a small smile on his face and he stares down at the food.

You remember him getting very flustered when you would give him or buy him food at the beginning of your relationship. Since it was a scarcity down below, being willing to share food had a deeper intimate meaning for monsters. It meant that you loved them enough to offer a lifeline - food - that they so desperately clung to in its rarity. He still gets a little flustered now, but he’s been exposed to food sharing and he’s even come to enjoy it as a normal gesture. Though he seems a bit flustered now? Maybe because of the romantic undertone? Hmmmm, or maybe it’s because-

Your stomach decided to make itself known, growling loudly. You laugh, but Sans gives you an anxious look of concern, leading you to say:

“Well come on! Let’s eat!”

You don’t have to tell him twice, you’re both quickly seated and indulging on the yummy food you had made earlier today.

Sans makes sure you eat a good few bites before he digs in. There was a lot of it because, unsurprisingly, your mate has quite the appetite. But he still likes to wait for you to eat first no matter how much food there is. You didn’t even notice when he did that at the beginning of your relationship and when you finally did question him, he just said it was polite to wait for your mate to eat first. He didn’t elaborate more than that. When you researched into the topic you found that when there was a significant appetite difference and on the off chance there was access to food, it was polite for those with the bigger appetites to wait for the ones with smaller appetites to eat a bit first. Then it went into monster rankings, common folk monsters, boss monsters, different magic levels, etc. to which you got confused and pretty much gave up on the issue with a simple “fine, keep your secrets then” to your computer screen. You figured if Sans thought it was important for you to know he would have told you.

You both quickly fall into your normal dinner routine of you talking Sans’ nonexistent ears off about anything and everything and him listening closely, chuckling at your jokes and stories. You ended up telling him a story from highschool about your babysitting experiences.

“- and I mean she was freaking out. I was too. We were both responsible for this kid we were babysitting and we lost him. It was also super stressful because we had taken the kid all over town doing fun stuff like going to the zoo, the park, getting lunch - this kid could be anywhere! So we both decided after searching all over the house that we would drive and retrace our steps, starting at the last place we were.” You were telling your story with animated hand gestures, and Sans follows the movements with his eyelight. The sun was setting at this point, all the food was eaten, and you both were just enjoying each other's company.

“So, we get in the car - still freaking out mind you - and I asked my friend ‘should we just call his mom?’ and before my friend could answer I heard a little voice say, ‘why would you call my mom?’ I whipped my head around to see the kid just chilling in his carseat. Turns out we just forgot to unbuckle him and he had fallen asleep during the car ride! We were flipping the house upside down trying to find him and we hadn’t even taken him inside!” Sans broke out laughing at your dumb story, leaving you to grin.

“Oh sure it’s funny in hindsight, but I about peed my pants when we thought we lost him! I was so scared, what was I gonna tell his mom? ‘Hey Lisa, um it’s going great! Uh just thought you should know, we can’t find your kid and we may have lost him?’” Sans couldn’t stop laughing. You egged him on.

“Oh yeah, and wanna know the worst part? The little shit was old enough and clever enough to figure out what happened and we had to bribe him with ice cream to keep him quiet.” Sans let out boisterous laughter and fell back so that he was laying on the ground. You couldn’t help but join in at that point. You didn’t particularly think the story was all that funny but when Sans laughs like this, it’s infectious.

After you both calm down a bit, you look at Sans to see him gazing at you lovingly. You love this content expression he makes, when his eyelight gets all fuzzy and dilated, it makes you feel so special and loved. It’s his expression reserved only for you (and maybe that stew you made last week, he seemed to be pretty taken with that as well).

“... thank you, for tonight.”

“Dawww you big softie! Of course! It was the least I could do for you, you always make sure I’m happy and content. I wanted to give you something like that.” He blushes, but he also furrows his brows a bit.

“you don’t need to feel… like you owe me more, i do it because… i love you.” Of course, you knew this, but hearing him say it? It had you tearing up a bit. He reaches for you and you lean into his embrace, leaving you both cuddling on the ground. You sniff a bit, trying to stop the crying before it really starts.

“I know, I’ve been trying to drill that into my head, but you deserved tonight and I’m glad I went through with this. It was fun! I might plan more dates in the future. In fact I think I’m pretty good at it!” You jokingly say with all the unearned confidence in the world. Sans chuckles and pulls you closer and despite your efforts, a few happy tears do fall, leaving him to make a concerned noise.

“you okay?” He asks, and you wave away his concern.

“I’m fine, I just love you too.”

“heh… now who’s the softie?” He gently teases, pointedly ignoring the fact that he’s blushing again.

“Pfft- I guess you’re right. Literally too, I’m the one with the flesh and skin!” He erupts into laughter again.

“Easy crowd tonight.” You joke, causing him to laugh harder and you chuckle with him.

Once he calms down, you both lay in comfortable silence, before you remember your last surprise. You shoot up into a sitting position, making Sans - who was resting his eyes comfortably - let out a surprised growl. You laugh at his reaction, reassuring him that everything is fine.

“I just have one more surprise that I thought would be fun.” You dig into the picnic basket, pulling out the surprise and grabbing that extra blanket. You lay back down with Sans and pull the blanket over you guys.

“I think it should be dark enough for this,” You hand him the surprise - a handheld telescope. “It’s not as nice as the big one you have at home, but it’s a lot easier and lighter to carry around, plue we don’t have to stand.”

Sans smiles at you.

“... do you want to learn some more… constellations?”

“Absolutely I do!”

He begins to show you the visible constellations, and you proceed to make him laugh with the made up stories for them that you swear are the true origin stories. Just relaxing and goofing off, it’s moments like these where you remember just how lucky you were to be with your gentle giant, Sans.

114 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

full circle

description: even if you’ve only known him for eight years, if you think about it, you’ve actually been with minho for most of his entire life. member: minho / lee know genre: fluff, historical au, vampire au, time traveler au, college au, neighbour au, best friends to lovers au, fem reader, this is a longer and revised version of reliable source word count: 10k warnings: explicit language, mentions of animal murder, war, death, blood, alcohol note: yay a third entry to the seven hundred and one universe! oc from seven hundred and one universe is named shiyeon here while the oc from kart rider is named soojung! + this prolly has a lot of plot holes & is just generally mediocre but whatever it’s fiction lmao + @skzwriternet

present: February 13, 2020

Even before he saw you on the other side of his apartment door at 9 PM with all of your work materials and equipment, Minho already knew full well that this day was coming. He’s always known most days are coming. He‘s just more excited for this in particular than the rest, given its inevitability that he‘s lived through for almost 600 years of his total 900 years as a vampire. Tonight, as evidenced by the Google Docs displayed on your open laptop, is the night you’d travel to the past for your doctorate thesis and meet his past self for the first time.

He just didn’t expect this in particular to be on the day right before Valentine’s Day, when he and his two other housemates have decided to make a complete mess out of the kitchen with all of the chocolate they’ve been trying to make.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you at this hour but I was thinking—ew, what’s that smell?” You instinctively and bluntly ask first, sniffing the air escaping his side of the door. Minho could smell it too, strongly at that, and the older vampire could only purse his lips and widen his eyes at you. “Are you guys—please don’t tell me you’re actually cooking humans this ti—“

At that, he immediately shakes his head and breaks out into a nervous laugh, pulling the door closer to his body and effectively hiding Jisung scrambling around for the exhaust (and maybe the fire extinguisher too, for some reason) before you could peer over his shoulder. “No, no! It’s just Jisung and Jeongin—well, it’s mostly Jeongin then he dragged Jisung in on it—they’re making Valentine’s Day chocolates for...some people.”

You could sense the slight bluff in his tone (supported further by the little heart-shaped candy on his cheek) and that at least one of those ‘some people’ he could possibly be referring to is one of your friends, Nari, whom Jeongin has not-so-discreetly been pining over since your second year of college, but you easily let it slide. In the eight years you’ve known the vampires who live and own your apartment complex, after all, you’ve definitely walked in on much wilder things than a couple of questionably burnt chocolates (chocolates aren’t even cooked, as far as you’re concerned!). “Um, okay, sure, I’ll trust you with that.” You squint your eyes at him. “Anyway, can I come in? I need your help with something.”

Minho exhales a small sigh of relief which he turns into a smile for you before looking over his shoulder once to make sure that the coast is clear then opening the door wide once again. “Yeah, come on in.” He concludes next, picking up your backpack on the floor and your heavy laptop in your hands as you cross the threshold. “But it’s really messy in the common area right now so we’ll have to stay in my room, if that’s okay with you.”

You’ve never been in his room, not even when you first became friends in your first year of college eight years ago or on game nights when he always asks for help taking out his Play Station sets. All of Jisung and Jeongin’s jokes of his serial killer tendencies when you’re not around could be true for all you know and it’s the only thing going through your head as you wordlessly follow him inside his apartment, pondering on the thought.

In response, Minho bites down a laugh between his teeth next to you as he accidentally reads your thoughts and when you catch him in the act, you make sure to elbow him with your freer arm, careful of your drafts binder. “Ya, stop reading my thoughts without permission, you asshole!” You scold him in a sharp hiss right as you pass Jisung and Jeongin in the open doorway leading to the kitchen. You greet the two courteously and even make a salute to the fallen chocolates, to which Minho laughs even more at and the two boys groan in protest. “Well, shit, it really is...bad.”

“I know, poor people who’ll get that tomorrow.” Minho shrugs.

“You could say Nari, it’s fine, I won’t tell.” You shrug back with a laugh, taking this time to take the candy off of his cheek and walking past him and the other two boys with a parting wave before Jeongin could even process that you caught up to him and his crush so easily.

Minho, meanwhile, clears his throat awkwardly and follows you, in a poor attempt to hide his immediate flustered expression. Some of the chocolates were actually for you but he won’t tell you that too, of course.

Especially not when you arrive in his room not long after, nodding in approval at its cleanliness that clearly contrasts the current state of his kitchen and, by a slight extension, living room. “Glad you to know you don’t murder people in your room, Min. See? We get closer as friends would every day.”

“I’ve been on blood bag and animal diet since we met, you brat. Don’t tease like that.” Minho rolls his eyes, prompting you to laugh.

“So, where do I work, then?” You ask after, turning to Minho on your side and accidentally brushing your shoulders together.

He gestures to his work table in response, naturally placing his other hand on your back and guiding you towards it. He really hopes you’d be oblivious to the way he’s growing more flustered this time. He doesn’t let you in his room for a reason, after all (that being it’s too intimate in his opinion). “You can use my desk.” He instructs you after, following you and pulling an extra chair for himself once you’ve reached his desk. Placing your backpack next to his work bag then your laptop on top of the table, he then asks, “So, are you travelling now or later?”

He already knew you’d do it sometime now, he really just wanted to ask to keep the conversation going. He even has your hanbok ready—bought from Changbin’s wife’s shop last month.

But, to you, he seems to have miscalculated the situation a little bit as a realization dawns on you while you’re taking out the portable time travel machine from your backpack. It’s actually just a watch but your professors insist on keeping them in really fancy boxes. “I can do it now if it’s oka—wait, I haven’t even told you that part yet! How do you know I’m not just going to hoard your wi-fi?” You exclaim mid-thought, your mouth falling agape and forming an ‘o’ shape in surprise. You know he wasn’t reading your mind just now because, usually, Minho would announce his presence obnoxiously loud in your head or make the face he did a while back but he didn’t this time. “So you’re going to agree to my request? Is that it?”

Eyes equally wide in his mistake, Minho falls back in his chair and ends up fumbling around with his words. “Well—no, I mean, you always only need my help when you’re about to time travel so—!” He tries his best to cover up which only elicits a victorious smile from you. “Ugh, fine, you got me!”

“So, you’ll help me? I mean, past you, technically.” You ask again for confirmation, sitting down on your own chair this time as you fully take out the portable machine and place it on your lap. “I have to tell you, though, that I need to travel to three other periods for my thesis this time. Is that okay?”

Minho props his elbow on the arm rest and nods against his knuckles. “You already know the answer to that, I think.”

You chuckle at this. If eight years of knowing him has taught you anything, it’s to pay attention to the smallest details. He’s clairvoyant, after all, and you need to up him at his own game every now and then somehow. “Then, I’ll also need the proper attire. Haseul said that she can’t take in commissions at the moment so I couldn’t—“

“In the closet, furthest right.” Minho gestures to the walk-in closet behind him in defeat. “You can use that for all the times you’ll go, too.”

“Have I told you that you’re my bestest friend in the world today? Even more than Nari, and she’s a witch, might I add!” You dramatically announce with a grin, handing him the machine’s box before standing up and making a beeline to the double doors on the other side of his bed. When you follow his instructions and find a pink and blue hanbok along with a floral hairpin on the very end of his closet, you then take it out and head to the open bathroom across the room. “Oh, wow, you even got my size right! You must’ve been preparing for this for a long time, huh?”

He really has—but, again, Minho is too stubborn to admit it to your face. “Just tell me if it’s uncomfortable or something.” He simply replies to you instead before you could close the door and change. Once he hears you acknowledge him with a hum before clicking the door to a lock, he then quickly prepares the time travel watch for you (by the way he remembers you doing it in front of him countless of times while you were cramming for a school requirement with him) then places it next to your laptop in exchange for his phone to message the rest of his friends.

minho [9:13 PM]: its happening

chan [9:14 PM]: you’re confessing?

hyunjin [9:14 PM]: hey that’s great! good for you hyung!!!

minho [9:16 PM]: no! y/n’s making the travel to 1388!

changbin [9:18 PM]: chan u know not to get ur hopes up w minho alr we all know he’s hopeless

minho [9:21 PM]: just bc ur alr married u brat

Changbin was still typing out a reply in the groupchat when you came out of the bathroom in your hanbok, laughing behind your hand when Minho looks up and momentarily gapes at you. “Why are you looking at me like that, weirdo?” You furrow your brows as you approach, smacking his arm before sitting down on his bed right behind him with a slight struggle. Peering over his shoulder, you smile appreciatively at noticing the time machine already set up. “And I see you’ve set up the machine without breaking anything this time! Progress!”

Minho scoffs, swiveling his wheeled chair to face you properly before gesturing to the hairpin in your hands. “You don’t like the hairpin?”

"I don’t know why you’re making me wear a hairpin that looks like a wedding heirloom.” You frown. Not to mention, from it’s material, you could tell that it’s new as well, meaning it was designed this way on purpose. “Won’t it attract too much attention?”

Minho doesn’t know why you eventually came to him in the past wearing the hairpin too. He thought his future self was being ridiculous then (and he still does in the moment). “I don’t know, either,” He tells you truthfully this time, standing up from his chair to place it on your tightly-made bun. “But you did come wearing it eventually so just go with the flow, I guess? I don’t know, what do your sci-fi movies say?”

You scoff at him, puffing out the heat rising up to your cheeks at the proximity. He could read your mind if he wants to but he doesn’t seem to be in the moment, even when his lips are gently fanning air into your ear as he fixes the hairpin with utmost care. “I guess I’ll just have to follow your instincts, then.” You sigh in defeat. “I can’t miss a detail, even if it’s weird.”

“Right. I was there in the moment before you right now.” He smiles cheekily before sitting back down on his chair, passing you your time travel box after. “Ready to go?”

You nod, fixing your collar one last time before receiving the machine from his hands. “You haven’t met me in the 1388, right?”

“The first time you met me in the past was in the 1910s for that graduate thesis of yours and the oldest version of me that you’ve met so far was the one from the the 1740s.” Minho corrects, recalling your fourth year thesis some eight years ago. “But the first time I met you in my history was for this doctorate.”

Your eyes light up at this. “Really? You’re meeting me for the first time now?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“We’ll have differing first impressions after this!” You point out to which he snickers. “Also, I haven’t met this version of you, you might be a snob in 1388 and think I’m weird or something.”

Minho personally doesn’t think his first impression of you will ever change, no matter when you’ll meet in time. He’ll always think positively of you. “I was already turned for a long time, then. I haven’t met Chan and the others but I’ve seen and heard of weirder things than a time traveler.” He assures you. “Now, go, so I can help Jisung and Jeongin in the kitchen.”

Rolling your eyes, you then set the date to January 1388 (you notice Minho’s already set the location while you were in the bathroom) before bidding a temporary goodbye to him, disappearing into thin air with the watch on your wrist right after. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

In the blink of an eye, you’re already in a flea market somewhere in Seoul (then named Hanseong, you made sure to remember that well out of all of your history and anthropology notes).

past: January 1388

You easily find 1388 Minho wandering around the flea market, a crowd of court men and women following him religiously as he examines the crops, livestock, and flowers being sold in stalls. The sight makes you scoff in disbelief, even more when you approach and see how he ignores each and every one of them up close.

You know Minho isn’t the one of royal blood in his current coven of vampires (that’s Hyunjin—you know it well from the amount of times you’ve pestered him in your other time travels while he was sulking over his present day fiancée) but he has mentioned in passing once about being popular in the palace court, a socialite of his time if you will.

But then, who could blame him? He’s just that handsome and charming.

“Minho...Lee Minho...” You try calling for him in the crowd but to no avail, the slight embarrassment of following the crowd creeping up to you. It reminds you a bit of when you first saw him in your timeline, your first year of college and his fourth year (because Chan keeps insisting that he goes to university every now and then to pass the time) when all kinds of students would also follow him around at the campus library. It’s annoying, regardless of wherever you are in the world timeline. “Excuse me, Lee Minho!”

He only turns to you when you raise your voice, an eyebrow momentarily raised until your eyes meet and a look seemingly of recognition crosses his features.

You became friends with him as an older vampire but why is he more intimidating as a younger one? It’s probably the rest of the crowd’s eyes being on you because of your sudden interruption. Either way, you forcibly gulp down your nervousness and call for him again. “Lee Minho?”

“Yes?”

“C-Can I—Can I talk to you for a moment?” You gesture for him to follow you, his piercing gaze making your hands shake a bit. This is probably what Chan meant when he said Minho was a bit scary when he first met him in the 1400s.

Minho follows you, anyway, which alleviates and heightens your nervousness at the same time. The crowd would’ve followed if not for him glaring at them not to right before you turned to the main entrance of the flea market where a few people were loitering around at. He feels like he knows you from somewhere which, if you knew about, you’d tell him that that’s impossible since, chronologically, you haven’t met him before this.

Once you’re away from the majority of the market crowd, only then do you turn to properly face him and his expectant eyes. He’s still looks the same as he does in the present, just more curious, seeing as you’re a stranger for now. It’s comforting, somehow, so much so that it relaxes you and eventually makes you laugh as well.

“What’s so funny?” He asks you without any hint of malice once you uncontrollably burst into giggles, prompting you to lift your hand up to your mouth. Already developing his clairvoyant abilities at this time period, he could easily tell by the unfamiliar terms in your thoughts and the way you hold yourself up that you were different—far more different than everyone around you. “And who are you?”

You wave your other hand dismissively, taking a step back to recuperate. You end up giggling a few more times before you could manage to take a deep breath and exhale slowly by turning your eyes away from Minho momentarily. “I’m sorry, I’m Y/N and I—sorry! It’s just so...it’s a bit weird!”

“Definitely.” Though your answer is unsatisfactory, the boy nods anyway. “And how do you know my name?”

“I know you from the futur—wait, you can tell that it’s a bit weird too?” You raise an eyebrow and fold your arms over your chest. “It’s…sometime in the 1300s—“

“Thirteen eighty-eight.”

“Right.” You nodded at his correction with a dry scoff, piquing his interest further. “It’s only 1388 and you’re already this good of a clairvoyant?”

Minho was instinctively taken aback with you. His present self forgot to tell you that clairvoyance doesn’t have an established name in this time yet. “How did you—? What? Huh, well…the hanbok—the hanbok’s a bit of a giveaway too, I guess. It looks different from what the court women usually wear.”

You then briefly glanced down at your hanbok, a pout resting on your features when you look back up at Minho again. “Really? But you—I mean, my source told me that this was accurate.” Come to think of it, you didn’t really check the attire thoroughly since you really needed to travel immediately to cram your paper. You’ll have to give 2020 Minho an earful about this later. “Ah, guess it’s my fault for not double-checking. I was in a bit of a rush to come here.”

Minho from 1388, however, shakes his head at you in disapproval then briefly begins pointing out the different design patterns that looked foreign to him. “And this hairpin,” He pointed your hair accessory last, from what you can remember at present. There’s an unreadable expression in his face, one you’re too flustered to interpret as amusement. “This looks like a wedding heirloom but…a bit futuristic for my time, if that makes sense. I don’t suppose you wanted to come here disguised as someone’s wife, right? That’d attract more attention to you.”

And with that, you almost immediately deflate right in front of him with a defeated sigh and he smirks teasingly in return. To the passersby at the flea market, people could’ve easily mistaken the two of you for a quarreling married couple. “So that’s how it is.” You surrender easily, your arms loosening. “I guess even at this time you’re clairvoyant and smart. How annoying.”

His smirk grows even more triumphantly at this. “So, why did you come here?” He asks next. He figures out halfway through your rambles that it’s probably better to go along with you than to insist on his own questions, at least until you’ve organized your thoughts a little bit better.

You ponder on the question for a moment, shifting your weight between the balls of your feet to pass the time. When you do answer, you explain, “Well, it’s a little crazy but my source has said that you’ll be okay with it so...believe it or not, I’m from the future and doing my doctorate thesis on a dynasty that’s about to establish itself around this time.” When 1388 Minho doesn’t immediately and visibly freak out as he would on your worst case scenario, you take this as your cue to continue. “You’re still alive in my time but I can’t tell you what our relationship is or it’ll be spoilers! All I can say is that you’ve helped me passed a lot of my major requirements in school and if you’re okay with it, you can help me with this one too!”

The Minho in front of you thinks that you probably know him very well to know that he’s not easily spooked with anything out of the ordinary, not even by someone who claims to be from the future and is doing an academic paper about the past. You did mention knowing his personal history, as well, which effectively gained you his trust. He just hopes you’re not married or something in the future as the hairpin seems to be trying to imply or else he’d consider this first meeting of yours a bit chaotic for his liking. “Sure. Where do you have to be right now?”

Really? It’s that easy? Is all you can think about, much to Minho’s curiosity when he reads your thoughts. “O-Oh, well, um...if you can take me to the palace courts, that would be...cool, I mean nice.”

And so, Minho from 1388 ends up showing you around the palace courts for the next six months that follows (but, really, it’s just merely six minutes in the present time), even introducing you to people whom you ended up entrusting with your data-gathering. You almost mentioned Hyunjin and his fiancé, Shiyeon, on more than one occasion, remembering how the vampire would be with Seungmin already by this time while the immortal witch would be travelling around Korea, but opted not to instead when you also remember that no one from this time period really liked talking about the previous fire that killed most of Hyunjin’s family.

Besides, you didn’t want to mess up the timeline and have Minho meet Hyunjin before he could meet Chan, even when he would ask you about it right before you left.

“How am I in the future, by the way? Am I allowed to ask that?” Minho asks you curiously as you hold out your watch in front of him. It was starting to get annoying, having to hide it in your bell sleeves all the time. “And what am I doing by then?”

“I can’t say anything specific that’s important.” You scrunch up your nose disapprovingly to which Minho only glares at you in response. “Just trust me, you’re sort of happy with where you are in my present day. You don’t have to worry about it now, it’s still 600 years away, anyway.”

Minho mistakenly interprets that as the two of you being married in the future. He doesn’t have feelings for you in this time period but he takes your word not to worry about it until it’s happened.

Besides, you seem kind. He’ll see something in you eventually.

“When will I see you again, then?”

“Um...around 1418, probably?” You answer with a hint of uncertainty as you faintly recall your thesis’ outline. You needed to see King Sejeong’s court next. “You’ll still be here, right?”

Minho initially had plans on moving to a nearby province but he nods, anyway, thinking that that could wait for a few more years. “Yeah.”

And with that, you’re gone again.

present: February 13, 2020

When you get back to the present day, it’s only 9:35 PM, almost six minutes since you left, but Minho’s already in the kitchen, helping Jisung and Jeongin clean up their mess.

“Back already?” Minho asks with a blood bag between his teeth when he catches sight of you by the open doorway as he wipes the kitchen island clean, immediately noticing the grin you wear on your face. “What did you think?”

“You were much chiller then!” You exclaim, ducking past Jeongin and Jisung to sit down right across Minho on the countertop. “I mean, you were a bit scary at first with the whole glaring thing you got going on but you were very calm and collected, then, like you weren’t even phased about me being from the future!”

Of course he would be at that time, he was literally there when it happened (and also because he’s always had a feeling even from before that you’d meet but that’s also on his long list of things he won’t tell you). Instead, you see him quirk an eyebrow, throwing the rag towel in his hand to the side to pick up his phone and resume his Kart Rider. “Weirdoes vibe with weirdoes, I guess.” He shrugs, chuckling when you protest at this. “Anyway, you got what you need, right?”

You nod happily with a hum, propping an elbow up on the now clean counter and resting your cheek on your palm. “I have enough to write about later when you’re done cleaning.”

“Ya, Y/N, if you’re gonna stick around at least help us clean the kitchen!” Jisung complains as he drags a wet mop across the floor behind you.

“And why would I do that? I didn’t even help you make the chocolates!”

“Because Minho’s been making cho—” Before Jisung could finish his sentence, however, Minho throws his rag towel towards the younger vampire, aiming it directly to his face. “Ya!”

You shake your head in disbelief, turning to Minho again after. “Anyway, I have to fix my notes for a bit and you need to tell me where else I went for this paper!”

Also because you were kinda cute back then, you think to yourself more as an after-thought, not really expecting for Minho to accidentally hear it.

Now, Minho knows why he made you wear the hairpin. Is it normal to be jealous of one’s past self?

present: February 16, 2020

Minho offers you a whole bag of your favorite mini Toblerones the next time that you knock on his door to work on your thesis. The Valentine’s Day homemade chocolates were a fail even when Felix was eventually brought in last-minute (then you just had to disappear for a whole day with Nari and Shiyeon, too), so he rushed to the nearest convenience store to buy you the Toblerones as soon as you told him that you’ll come over again to pester him with his Internet connection and ask him more about your work.

Maybe this is really it, the one you were talking about in his past.

“You’re being nice to me with all this chocolate.” You squint your eyes with a piece of the chocolate in between your teeth suspiciously across the dining table as you work, head buried in papers to revise and dusty reference books. Your professor has you on travel limit as everyone else, only allowing you up to four actual visits to the past, hence the mountainous stacks of library books and journals you’ve borrowed from both the campus library and Changbin’s personal collection. “What do you need? Ya, I’m talking to you.”

Minho, busy in his own academic work on his laptop, only peeks up at you belatedly when he’s reaching out for his blood bag buried underneath all of your papers. “What?”

“What are the chocolates for?” You ask straightforwardly this time, picking up another mini Toblerone off the yellow bag. “Last time you bought me something from the convenience store was when you ate the squirrel I was feeding in the back garden.”

Minho only shrugs as nonchalantly as he could, though he can’t help but feel a little flustered as evidenced by the way his eyes briefly widen. The squirrel incident was a long time ago and yet you still won’t let it go. “Can’t I be nice?” He simply asks back in answer to which you scoff at. He laughs along with you, anyway. “Jeongin bought it then gave me the extra, probably to give to you since I can’t really eat it.”

You wanted to tell him that Nari actually shared the chocolates Jeongin gave her and they were definitely not Toblerones but you let it slide again. For some reason, it’s funny seeing Minho try to cover up something right in front of your face and thinking that he’s doing a good job at it. He’s trained you to see past his bullshit for the past 8 years, he should really know better. “Um...right.” You nod teasingly. “I’m gonna pretend you’re not looking very suspicious right now.”

Minho could clearly tell that you’re doubting him even without reading you but he does nothing more to it. He’s too deep in his bullshit already and you both know that.

Truth is, he was just fulfilling something you mentioned in your second visit to him (and probably as a way to give you something on Valentine’s Day even if it’s two days late).

“Anyway, when are you making the travel again?”

“Right after I finish summarizing this book.”

And it happens to come full circle today, too. What luck does your best friend have.

past: August 1418

You jump between days in a span of six years this time (which is approximately an hour and twelve minutes back in the present time) with the help of Minho, Chan, and Changbin from 1418 helping you by preparing an entire closet of clothes and coming up with a very detailed background story of how you were a distant relative of Chan’s from the province in the case that someone asked about you. The other two boys were more than happy to welcome you despite how foreign time travel was to them in this time period because, apparently, you’re all Minho’s ever talked about since they met.

“It’s nice knowing that Minho didn’t fever dreamed you up or something.” Changbin joked to you once towards the end of the six years of your data-gathering, to which he received a full apple shoved in his mouth from Minho. In this time period, his wife, Haseul, was still in that sleeping curse you still don’t understand fully at present, carefully laid in a tomb somewhere in the capital. Fortunately, you managed to avoid telling him that she wakes up seven centuries later (and that they get married) throughout your entire stay and avoided spoilers. “Vampires who’ve lived long like us tend to do that sometimes. Heck, even Chan does that lots of times these days, telling us about this immortal person he’s been looking for a while now. I guess it’s the human brain’s natural response to having a lot of memories.”

“Minho remembers me just fine in the present, though.” You shrug as you re-write your interview notes, to which Minho mumbles a ‘Really?’ at. When you nod at him, he immediately rolls his eyes up in thought. You want to tell them that the person Chan’s been looking for at this time’s also real (and that he and said person, Eunhye, even live together now), too, but you decide against it later on for spoiler reasons again. “You have really good memory in the present, you even bought me Toblerones today.”

“What are those?”

A realization dawns on you right there and then, a small smile forming on your lips to which Minho quirks an eyebrow at and Changbin immediately asks you about. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just know that they’re my favorite.” You simply answer, standing up from the front porch of the inn you’ve been staying at and dusting the dirt off of your new hanbok. You remind yourself to ask Minho and Changbin about where these are at present later on. “Anyway, I’m off! I need to interview a few court people then I’ll be off your hairs again soon!”

When it’s time for you to leave again, Minho’s still pestering you about what Toblerones are.

“Come on, tell me!” He protests, going as far as holding your wrist where your watch is before you could escape. “Y/N!”

You only grin up at him mischievously, gently swatting his hand away. “February 16, 2020! Also, make me ramen and coffee when I get back to the other side, please! I’d really like that!”

present: February 16, 2020

A steaming bowl of ramen and a warm cup of miraculously decently-brewed coffee are on the kitchen countertop by the time you come back, just as you asked him six hundred years in the past. What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your notes and references have also been organized neatly on the table while you were away and Minho dozing off on the nearby sofa in the open living room (he really likes genuine sleep lately which you’re yet to ask him as to why). You make sure to check that he really is sleeping by pinching his nose (and getting no response which is his usual indication of actual sleep) before placing the blanket he has reserved for you in his apartment over his hunched over body.

“You don’t really need it,” You whisper tiredly, tucking the blanket close to his neck. His skin is naturally cold, as any normal vampire’s, but you’ve slowly grown accustomed to it over the years. “but how else am I going to say thank you for remembering my request after six hundred years? You’re going above and beyond anyone I’ve ever met, Lee Minho, you should stop raising the bar too high for men like this.”

three

past: May 1592

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Minho from 1592 asks you right after you’ve reappeared in his house. Chan is out for work and Changbin is visiting Haseul on this particular day, leaving him to tend to their main house alone. “We’re in the middle of—”

“A Japanese invasion, I know.” You finish his thought for him, casually plopping down on the front porch right next to him and gingerly receiving the cup of tea he offers you. The garden he’s been trying to tend the last time you were around hasn’t made any significant progress even when an entire century has passed. You want to think it’s because the boys have been travelling elsewhere right before you returned but you also know it’s because they haven’t met Seungmin and Hyunjin yet. Those two are still probably travelling with Shiyeon. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”

“Don’t tell me you’re—” Minho leans away and gazes back incredulously at you. He can already tell, with his own abilities, that you’re not thinking of what he’s thinking but he asks anyway to fully confirm. “I’m not letting you go to the frontlines if that’s what you’re going to ask me this time.”

You chuckle at his genuinely mortified expression as you sip on your tea, making the boy furrow his brows at you. You really must be crazy. “You already know I’m not thinking of that! Though, I will ask you crazier things in the distant future.” You assure him. “I’ll only be staying for a year, six years again at most since I only need to complete a few interviews and fact-check a few books.”

“Good.” Minho sighs in relief, taking a long sip of his tea as well. Even in 1592, the only human beverage Minho could stand is tea, you’re quick to notice. “That’s...that’s a relief.”

“Why would you even be worried about going to the field, you’re immorta—ya, perhaps, do you you care about me?” You tease, grinning widely at the sudden realization. “We have a really messed-up timeline but you already care about me as early as now, that’s cute!”

Minho from this time period could only roll his eyes at you against his sudden flustered feeling. If he was curious of your relationship with his future self when you first met, he’s curious as to how his future self keeps up with you this time. “Because you might be important to me in the future or something.” He bluffs to which you only chuckle fondly at. “I can’t really tell since you won’t tell me exactly how I know you in the future.”

“Well, what am I to you now?”

“A friend.” And he means it truthfully.

You’re momentarily taken aback, Minho sees even when you’re quick to hide it. Present Minho won’t even call you his best friend like you do to him. “Then just—just remember that until then.” You point out, smiling when you gaze over to his side and see his sincere expression. Something leaps in your chest at hearing him say those words without his usual playful tone of voice. It’s not what you’ve always been hoping for but it’s a start. “Won’t it be better if you just find out in the moment when it does happen?”

Minho wants to tell you that he can’t wait but his teasing nature always gets the best of him first, “Hm, maybe you don’t actually know me at all in the future, that’s why you’re always being vague when I ask you.”

You scoff, smacking his arm. “Ya!”

“So, really, what are you to me in the future?” He insists anyway, swiftly dodging your hits until he’s caught your wrist in his hands. “Friend? Best friend?”

A lover? He wanted to add further but he bites his tongue back just in time.

“I always call you my best friend but I’ve yet to hear the same thing from you so, honestly, how would I know when you’re so secretive with your true feelings all the time! I’m even surprised you answered my question just now.” You frown, unintentionally coming off as bitter in your tone of voice as you retract your hand back to your side. You place your cup down as well, careful of the remaining tea so it doesn’t accidentally spill on your hanbok. At this moment, you miss the way Minho’s expression turns into confusion. “If it helps, though, I can only tell you that you always let me in your house to hoard the wi-fi—which you don’t have to know about right now!—and you’ve kept me around long enough to know when you’re trying to lie to me or read my thoughts with your clairvoyance thing going on.”

Minho nods along, humming in thought. “So you’re a parasite?”

You inhale a deep breath, focusing all of your energy into restraining yourself from hitting him for a second time. “You’ve called me worse.” You sigh with a controlled laugh. “Expired dinner and ex-wife who has nowhere else to go are my personal favorites.”

Next to you, Minho’s eyes genuinely widen in curiosity. “We got married?”

“Um, no? No, no, it’s an expression!” You shake your head and snicker despite the contrasting heat on your neck. Minho grows flustered at sensing the blood rushing up to your face. “I don’t even know if you’re capable of romantic love, dude. You’re always kinda everywhere and nowhere.”

Minho’s not offended, though, especially not when you try to apologize after at realizing that you’re not as close with this version of him as you are with the version you know in your own time. “It’s fine.” He assures you with a shrug, knowing full well that you were just kidding around. “I’m guessing with that that I’m still single five centuries later.”

“That and a bit of a flirt, too.” You clarify before his words fully process in your head. “Wait, so that means you haven’t dated even before this?”

Minho shakes his head. “No, no one’s caught my eye yet.”

You purse your lips in thought of this new revelation. It’s in moments like this, when you’re meeting past selves of your immortal friends that you realize just how little you actually know of them. “Huh, I didn’t peg you as the type.”

“The type to what?”

You shrug slowly, hunching over in your seat. “To be the fall in love just once type? I don’t know...”

Chan has mentioned to you once about Minho believing in soulmates but you were quick to dismiss that then. Remembering that now, maybe he is right.

And, as if he has been reading your thoughts this entire time, Minho agrees with a nod. “Then, now you know. If you’ve lived as long as I have, soulmates are really nice to think about.”

“But you always tease me about it...you from the future at least.” You pout. “Again, no offense, it’s just that—from the way I know you in my time, you’re very confusing.”

When you glance over at Minho, you see him sit up straighter and lean closer to you again, your shoulders bumping against his as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. “Really? How am I confusing? Maybe I can help.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Ah, but that’s unfair. You’ll take note of this in the future again.”

“Your time’s five hundred years away, I’m sure I’ll forget this with time.” He assures you to no avail as evidenced by your squinted eyes.

“You remembered my ramen and coffee request from last time, though.” You argue back, making his eyes light up.

“I will?”

You nod, placing a finger on his forehead and pushing his face away from yours. “Yeah, so I don’t trust you. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Minho doesn’t bother you anymore about it for the rest of your one-year stay, which you’re more than grateful for.

present: February 22, 2020

He does, however, teases you about it again when you’re back to the present. Closing in on you in one of his bone-crushing hugs when you reappear in his room, he asks, “So, how was meeting me in the 1500s this time, best friend?”

“Excuse me, what did you say?” You furrow your brows at him, your arms going limp on your sides while your entire body freezes on the spot.

“I just called you my best friend.” He repeats casually with a shrug. “Why?”

Minho purposely omits the fact that he double-checked his old journals to make sure that you just time traveled to that period when you mentioned to him how he’s never called you his best friend. He’s been waiting for this opportunity to set it right with you since he didn’t know much of the context back then.

You shake your head in response, reluctantly hugging him back once you’ve regained feeling in your arms again. “Nothing, it’s just...”

“Dude, you’re acting like past me and present me are different people.” He chuckles against your hair, squeezing your frame once before pulling away. “So, we’re good, right? You’re not bitter about the whole best friend thing now?”

You frown, slapping his elbow to which he only chuckles at. “Who said I was bitter?”

“You did in 1592!” He teases, his mischievous grin softening into a fond smile after. “But seriously...sorry about that. I just think it’s cheesy to say most of the time but you really are...my best friend now I guess—maybe until you die in 50 years.”

Minho then runs away before you could even protest, prompting you to chase him out of his room and into the hallway. “Ya, Lee Minho! I’m going to kill you first, you brat!”

But you know that deep in your heart that he’s only joking (and also because Jeongin has gossiped to you once about accidentally reading one of Minho’s journal entries from the 1700s once about meeting someone who shares your name but was already working as a professor in university and may or may not already be a vampire).

present: February 29, 2020

“Okay, to refresh...” You mumble as you adjust the watch on your wrist and the switchblade Minho insisted on you keeping in your pants’ pockets. Next to you, said vampire’s is sprawled on his bed, a reviewer and highlighter in hand. “In 1895, Hyunjin was following Shiyeon around the world, Seungmin was starting out his photography career, Soojung was taking a beauty nap, Haseul was still sleeping, Changbin was going on a Jack the Killer rampage somewhere in Europe, Jisung was still a newborn, Felix, and Jeongin haven’t joined you yet, and Chan was...learning yoga with Eunhye? Is that right?”

“And I’ve met all versions of you by this time.” Minho adds in absentmindedly before going back to chanting his notes over and over again. He really doesn’t need to since he really has sharp memory these days but you let him study for whatever it is he’s studying, anyway, so he has something else to do besides Kart Rider and annoying his other friends. “Just tell past me who I’m meeting when you arrive since you know how I kept mixing graduate studies you and college thesis you up all the time.”

“That’s...you guys have lived lives.” You puff out a tired breath, making Minho glance up to you briefly and chuckle. “Sometimes, it makes me and Nari feel so small.”

“It’s not much.” The boy shrugs back. “It personally hasn’t felt that long.”

“And why’s that?” You hum curiously.

He mumbles something behind his paper but you don’t hear it well. When you ask him about it, he only shakes his head and kicks you with his socket foot, urging you to go already.

Minho actually said, “It’s because you’ve been with me the entire time.” but he’ll just tell you all about it later when you come back.

With a scoff, you then swat his foot away and bid him goodbye. “Fine, see you later then.”

“I’ll organize your notes until then. Bye.”

past: July 1895

Minho sets your location on your watch to his house, now renovated to what was considered modern then. You’ve been here countless of times, albeit in different time periods of your own past (the last being when you had to ask for his help in the 1860s about your graduate thesis), but you’ve never been here in the 1890s, not when a newborn Jisung had the self-control of a toddler and immediately tried pouncing on you the moment he smelled you on their front lawn.

Now you know what the switchblade is for (and the one time Jisung kept apologizing to you in the 1910s).

“Ji, calm down!” Minho growls in annoyance, holding the younger boy by his arms as he drags him back inside the house. He can feel your anxiousness increase just by looking at this unfamiliar side of Jisung, prompting him to send you an apologizing look. “Sorry, um, Y/N, I—”

“I-It’s...it’s fine.” You assure shakily with a curt nod, taking a step back as well when Jisung tries regaining two steps towards you again. “I think I came in the wrong day.”

“It depends. What are you here for?” He asks, his voice growing faint as he successfully manages to lock Jisung inside the house. He then quickly jogs back to you, examining your face for any recognizable hints of where you could be from.

“Doctorate thesis.” You answer for him, earning you a look of realization from him.

“Oh, it’s you.” He smiles in relief. You remember distinctly how these were also the very same words he told you when you first met him in a time travel. “I was thinking you’d never come back.”

You feign a frown in front of him, making him laugh. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t finish my studies?”

“It’s just that the next time you came back, from my point of view, is when you were only in college to ask me about the 1810s.” He clarifies, to which you nod in understanding. So he does remember. “I thought it weird at first that you didn’t come back sooner to finish your doctorate.”

“Ah, well, you in 2020 has been a big help—well, him and a shit ton of books.” You chuckle awkwardly. “This is my last trip for my doctorate, actually, since I have the smallest amount of resources for Queen Min.”

“T-This is—this is your last?”

You smirk at his briefly dejected expression, elbowing him gently. “Why do you look so sad? You already know we’ll meet again in the future. Plus, you’ll still meet younger versions of me later on for my college requirements which is a bit confusing to hear right now but you’ll get it later!”

Minho opens his mouth to speak, initially to tell you something about being frustrated that he’s only seen glimpses (and different versions) of you throughout his life so far, but he’s suddenly cut off by Jisung banging wildly against the front door, making him and you flinch.

“Um...what if we deal with Jisung first?” You suggest. “I assure you we’re all going to be great friends in the future but no one really told me that this would happen.”

Minho nods slowly next to you, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we should probably take care of him first before your thesis. You could spare five minutes to sit down, right?”

“Definitely.”

And so, you spend the rest of your first day getting Jisung to calm down in your presence.

present: February 29, 2020

“Chan, babe, please, please, please promise that you won’t flinch when we use the party poppers later.” Eunhye sighs exasperatedly as she leads everyone into organizing the kitchen and living room. “Felix, good job on the cookies by the way! They turned out really well! Jisung, hurry up with that banner!”

“Babe, I don’t flinch!” Chan yells across the hallway as he re-checks if everyone will have enough party hats, trumpets, and poppers for later.

“Yes you do!”

“What’s so significant about today, anyway?” Nari asks Jeongin as the two enter the apartment with boxes upon boxes of blood bags and alcoholic drinks. “Besides Y/N finishing their thesis, of course.”

Shiyeon and Hyunjin follow closely behind with take-out boxes of chicken wings. “Because today is Y/N’s last time travel before they become a professor! A lot of good things are going to happen after, trust me.” Shiyeon answers with a wink.

“How come you know all of that? You were barely with us in the 1800s.” Jisung asks while struggling to put the other end of your congratulations banner across the kitchen. Soojung is on the other end, arm beginning to fall asleep as she holds up the other end of the banner for Jisung. “Even Jeongin and Felix don’t know that.”

“There’s a thing called correspondence and Hyunjin was a diligent gossiper.” Shiyeon only chuckles, setting down the take-out boxes on the countertop. “Also, hey, I was there in one of Y/N’s visits! It just hasn’t happened in our timeline yet but it will in three years!”

Minho then emerges from his room, phone in hand counting down the seconds until you’re back again. “Okay, we have two hours to get everything ready.”

“Lee Minho where have you been this entire time!” Eunhye complains, finally taking the boy’s presence to take a seat. “I’ve been organizing everyone for a whole ten minutes!”

“You mean you have two hours to get ready.” Haseul teases, seated on one of the dining table chairs and helping Changbin, Seungmin, and Felix make proper chocolates this time. “Don’t you have something else important you need to prepare?”

“No, I can just wing it.” Minho dismisses to which Chan immediately laughs at, catching the younger boy’s panicked expression.

“Sure you do.” Seungmin dryly responds, to which everyone topples over in laughter.

past: November 1905

“You’ll see me again in five years, at least from your point of view.” You assure Minho from 1905 right before you leave. Jisung’s apologizing again about the incident last time but you’re quick to hug him and effectively shut him up. “The one you’ll meet in 1910 is going to be a little different, though, a little younger.”

“But it’s still you.”

You smile at this. “Yeah, still me.”

Minho wants to tell you so badly that he’s met another version of you while you were away, someone older, but he quickly pushes the thought at the back of his head. Is this how you feel holding back spoilers from him? Instead, he ops to tease you. “You know, when people usually meet, it’s not as backwards as us.” When you raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, “You keep meeting me from the past and I’ve met you from the future countless of times. Even if culture’s going to be different in the future, I’m pretty sure this is still not how it goes there.”

Finally, understanding, you let out a laugh, hitting his side playfully. “Definitely not.” You agree sheepishly. “But I think that makes it even more special. It makes you wait until we’re in the same time, right?”

Minho nods. “What date are you going back to again?”

“February 29, 2020. Why?”

He says nothing else on it but bids you goodbye with one last hug instead. “Nothing. I’ll see you again soon...or another version of you.”

“And I’ll see future you.” You chuckle before disappearing.

present: February 29, 2020

You come back to all the lights in Minho’s apartment turned off at the present. You hear whispers and the soft clicking of a lighter as well, prompting you to follow the noise outside.

“I think it’s better if Changbin doesn’t hold the cake, don’t you think?” You recognize Haseul’s loud voice even from the hallways, fueling your curiosity even further.

A slight pause then follows before you hear Chan agree, “Yeah. Hyunjin, you hold the other cake.”

“Lix, you’re stepping on my foot.” That’s Jisung, you know by the way he’s always whiny when he complains.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

“Everyone, quiet! Y/N’s on their way!” Nari scolds and the hushes then quickly fall silent once you reach the kitchen, flipping the light switch on the hallway to the sound of party poppers exploding right in front of you. Only then do you see the big ‘CONGRATULATIONS Y/N!’ banner hanging right above everyone standing in a line with cake, hats, and trumpets.

“Um?” You raise an eyebrow at everyone, breaking out into an uncontrollable grin. “What’s with all this?”

Minho of your time then walks over to you with a Toblerone cake, carefully protecting two candles from the breeze that enters through the windows. “Chan and Eunhye insisted on a party so...congrats on finishing your thesis!”

Over his shoulder, said vampire and immortal immediately shake their heads in denial. “It’s his idea!” Eunhye mouths to you with a smirk, making you chuckle.

You then turn to Minho with a smile. “I haven’t even finished writing it yet.” You point out only for your best friend to shrug nonchalantly. “And my graduation’s in a month.”

“Yeah, we can work on that once everyone’s out of the apartment.” He suggests. “Now, just blow on the candles first, Seungmin’s arms are about to fall off waiting to take a picture.”

You briefly apologize to Seungmin on the side with a sheepish laugh, blowing on the cake’s candles after to the many snaps of his film camera. “Thank you for all this. I really appreciate it, you guys!” You thank your guests after, approaching them with Minho on your side this time.

“We can call you Professor now, right?” Hyunjin playfully asks, elbowing you gently on your side.

“It makes me sound really old.” You pout, making him laugh. “In a few years.”

“Three years.” Shiyeon coughs to which Minho immediately glares them down for.

Catching this gesture, you decide on purposely ignoring it for now. You’ll have to ask Shiyeon what they mean with that later. “Anyway, let’s eat. Have you guys been here long?”

“Not really but I’m already starving!” Soojung exclaims, passing you a plate and utensils. Next to her, Felix and Chan instinctively open up all the take-out boxes of food for everyone to dig in.

“Alright, let’s eat!”

present: March 1, 2020

Minho kicks everyone out after by the strike of midnight, when all the food’s been devoured and the party games have been played at least twice. Surprisingly, even Jisung and Jeongin were directed outside by Minho at this time, which you immediately ask him about once the two boys are out of the door. “Don’t those two live here?” You joke with a dry chuckle. “You don’t have to kick them out so we can work.”

“They’ll come back later.” Minho gently shuts the door before turning to you as you stand with your arms crossed in front of your chest, a genuinely curious expression on your face. “I just...need a moment with you.”

You pretend to take a step back with your best dramatic expression of fear. “Oh my God, you’re going to kill me after eight years of friendship, right?”

“What? No.” Minho furrows his brows at this, making you laugh. “It’s just...fuck, now I’m off-tracked.”

You giggle this time, loosening your arms in front of you. “What is it, Minho?”

There have been times, both in the past and present though rare, when Minho has looked nervous in front of you. The last time he was, from what you can remember, was when he was about to tell you that he accidentally killed the squirrel in the apartment’s back garden but even then, he wasn’t as nervous as he is now—fiddling with the hem of his blue sweater for a brief moment before finally taking the courage to step closer to you. “I-I, um—” He stammers out, one hand instinctively going up to his nape. “What I want to say is that...remember when I asked you in 1592 about how I know you?”

“You just teased me about that last week.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to ease the sudden awkwardness, only to make it even worse for Minho. With this, your expression immediately contorts into worry. “What about it?”

“Then in 1905, where you just came back from, you told me we’ll meet in the right time eventually...” He continues after a while, smiling back when you do reassuringly. “In between those centuries, of course, y-you—you came in for your college homework and your Masteral’s but there was also...there was also someone else.”

This unexpected turn drops something heavy on your stomach, your smile unconsciously faltering. Minho wants to snicker but, knowing you, you’ll probably think of him cold if he does so he takes in a deep breath and tries his best to continue with less stutters this time. “Don’t be too sad, it’s still you, just a few months in the future.” He assures with a chuckle, hands instinctively going up to your sides to rub your arms comfortingly. Your eyes widen at this in response and you freeze in his touch. “Anyway, July 2020 Y/N just told me to do something tonight, if that’s okay.”

It takes you a moment to respond but Minho patiently waits, holding back his laugh by biting his lip down. He’s reading your thoughts as they go into overdrive. Is this how you feel when I hide the future from you before? You internally ask to which he nods at. “U-Um, so...what are you going to do?”

“Just tell you that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” Minho finally confesses, sighing in relief once he’s gotten the words out surprisingly well. “And if you’d like to go out for a trip after your graduation—and not the time travel trip, this time so we can be together right.”

There’s more to it, actually, Minho has a whole paper written and rehearsed for a span of almost three centuries but he figures you’ll find out about it eventually. He could tell you about how he’s been in love with every version of you that he’s met in the past another time or maybe you already know it.

“So?” He asks after a while when you don’t speak verbally. Your thoughts are still muddled and your heartbeat’s a little too fast for his liking but he holds any impulsive urge he might have in for your sake. “What do you say?”

You purse your lips once, mustering up a relieved smile at him after. “You already met me from the future this time—which I commend you for, by the way, because you’ve one-upped me again this time!—so I think you already know the answer to that.”

epilogue

past: July 1799

You know full well that you’re not supposed to travel back in time for personal reasons, especially not for the reason you’re coming into 1799 to see a past Minho for, but you figure that you’re already in your university’s faculty roster. If I get caught, you think to yourself as you easily spot Minho with Chan at an art exhibit in Paris, the professors will probably understand.

“Minho! Chan!” You call with your hand above your head waving frantically at the two, catching theirs and a few patrons’ attentions. You don’t mind the extra attention as you approach him, though, since they did instinctively made way for you because of it. “Hello there, you two!”

“Hi, Y/N!” Chan greets you happily, giving you a side hug. “Aren’t you back too soon?”

But knowing full well that you’re probably not the same one the two met last time, Minho smirks in amusement as he eyes your choice of clothes and asks, “And where did you come from? By the clothes, me from the future probably doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Yeah, I picked out my own clothes for today. Anyway, I won’t be here long.” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “I’m from July 2020 and I’m not here for any academic work this time! I just wanted to ask you a quick favor.”

From what you’ve detailed in your own journals, the last time you met from this particular Minho’s point of view was when you were doing a paper on the Baroque movement for one of your college classes.

“What is it?” He asks you anyway, his body turned away from the painting that he and Chan have been previously admiring as he gives you his full attention.

Judging from the amount of times you’ve visited him (and the different versions of you he’s meet as well), his future self seems to agree on your requests all the time.

“I can’t tell you much but please prepare something on February 29, 2020!” You answer, your watch beeping on your side to remind you that it’s almost time to leave. “And make sure to mention me! Remember, Y/N from July 2020!”

Before he could ask about it, further, however, you were already gone.

“What do you think that was about, Chan?” Minho asks the older vampire instead.

But Chan simply shrugs, hands going deeper in his pockets as he thinks. “No idea.” He admits in equal confusion. “Guess we’ll have to see in three hundred years.”

218 notes · View notes

elareine · 3 years

Note

I know I already gave you one, but I just thought of this now, if you could, or ignore it, either one is fine, can you please write Nurse or Doctor Tim with JayTim or DickTim, or both go crazy with it, if you want. And Tim being so exasperated with them because they keep giving him the lamest excuses for their injuries, because they don't know he knows or they suspect he knows but both sides are trying to see who will mention it first. So its like a big competition of who will break first.

So the competition aspect got lost a bit? I hope you still enjoy it :)

Warning: Some dark jokes about domestic violence, mostly borne out of my experience when I actually fell down the stairs. Also I blatantly did not care about the actual medical issues in this.

“You fell down the stairs.”

Usually, when Tim had to repeat these words to someone, he said them gently: telegraphing his disbelief as well as his willingness to keep up appearances as long as the victim needed to. With kids, he was a bit more direct, though only after separating them from the parent. He never spoke this sarcastically; that would be uncalled for.

(Also, contrary to popular belief, some people actually did fall down the stairs.)

Today? Today his words were dripping with sarcasm.

The man—‘Richard Grayson’ according to his file, ‘Dick’ according to his introduction, ‘Gotham’s most handsome bachelor’ according to the gossip mags—rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I… maybe it was more, like. The roof?”

“Did the roof use a whip, by any chance?” Tim asked, examining the welts. “What did you do to piss off Catwoman?”

“Not—Nothing, because I fell down the stairs.”

“The roof.”

“The stairs on the roof.”

Tim sighed. “Alright. We’re gonna need an x-ray because I suspect your muscle has been cut through. Please report to room three, and the nurse will take care of it.”

“Sure thing, doc!”

—

When Tim had been inspired by Thomas Wayne to become a doctor, this hadn’t been what he envisioned.

Cure the sick? Sure. Fix bones and other injuries? As an orthopedic specialist: every day. Look at every injury Dick Grayson acquired during his totally-legal activities? Nope. What the fuck.

The explanations became increasingly stupider, too, which was hard to believe seeing how they started with a chart-topper like ‘I fell down the stairs/roof and it happened to look like a belt from a whip.’

Tim had resolved early on that he wouldn’t ask. His patience for Dick’s weak-ass excuses was close to zero, sure, but it was safer to keep away. This was a professional medical praxis that cared for everyone, no matter their allegiance. Tim didn’t even know which vigilante was sitting in front of him.

…oh, who was he kidding. This was Nightwing. None of the other vigilantes in Gotham was that chipper.

(Also, that ass.)

Fine. Tim could deal with that. He might’ve even privately fangirled over the fact that he got to patch up Nightwing (the first Robin!) on a regular basis. Also, Dick was ridiculously charming; Tim didn’t mind spending time with him. It was a nice break in the middle of a hectic day.

Except then Dick started bringing his brother/boyfriend along.

(Yeah, Tim felt as weird about that ‘/‘ as you do. But they were holding hands, so…)

He took one look at Jason Todd and asked drily: “So, seen any good zombie movies lately?”

Dick choked on air. Jason just grinned through the bloody mess he’d made of his mouth and asked: “Do I look that bad?”

“Worse.” Tim sighed and started examining the mess closer, carefully pressing along the lines of the other man’s jaw. “Let me guess, you’re also into parkour?”

“Among other things.”

“Hmm. Yeah, nothing broken, I think, but we’ll double-check. If not, ice, painkillers, and no ‘rooftop parkour’ for a while, alright?” He paused. Honestly, judging by Jason’s stature (too wide for most vigilantes) and age (too young to be Batman)… “I’d tell you to wear a helmet, but apparently, even that’s not helping.”

Jason turned to Dick, grinning widely. “I can see why you like him.”

Tim had no idea what to think about that, so he didn’t.

—

It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon. Every Wednesday, Tim would close his practice at 2 p.m. and spend the rest of the day doing paperwork. A cup of tea and the tv in the background

Except then the news started, and Tim heard the phrases “Nightwing and Red Hood,” “magician,” and “explosion.”

Then, the footage—obviously taking from mobile phone recordings—began playing. He watched for three minutes, panic spreading through him. Nightwing limp on the ground. Red Hood, literally thrown through a wall. He knew that these men were terrifyingly well trained, that Red Hood must’ve had some beta modifications at some point in his life with the injuries he took in stride—

But on camera, they weren’t moving.

According to the timestamp, the footage had been taken thirty minutes ago.

“Clean-up has begun,” the reporter on the screen said. “There is no sign of the two vigilantes who have defended our community center to the last—“

Tim grabbed his things and ran.

Tam, his assistant, looked up in alarm as he entered the waiting area. “Tim?”

“I need to go,” Tim told her, not stopping. “It’s an emergency.”

And because Tam was the best, she simply called after him: “Call me if you need help! I’ll take care of the practice.”

Tim knew Dick’s home address, had memorized it just in case—just in case. That’s where Tim drove now. If they weren’t there, he would try Wayne Manor next, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But when he pressed the doorbell at the apartment labeled ‘Grayson,’ he was immediately buzzed in.

Jason was the one who let him in and led him to the living room, where Dick half-sat, half laid on a couch.

Tim asked: “Okay. What hurts the most?”

“His head,” Jason replied, and Dick glared: “I’m told you I’m fine, Jay—“

Tim walked over. Swelling, definitely, and something about that shoulder…

“I popped that back in,” Jason explained. “But I think there’s something wrong with his neck.”

Yeah, there really was. Tim recognized the beginning of some deep bruising—strangulation, his mind supplied, that magician had tried to choke Dick out—and the back of Dick’s head felt tender and hot.

“I don’t suppose I can interest you in an x-ray?” he asked.

Disagreement all around. Fine. Tim would write them prescriptions for braces, if they didn’t have them lying around in a corner, anyway. Unless something felt like it was broken or shifted out of place or actually torn. You didn’t mess around with that.

Jason had sat down next to Dick, and Tim moved on seamlessly to checking him. Jason’s ribs were definitely not okay, but probably hadn’t punctured his lung or anything, or he wouldn’t be sitting here. Apart from that, he was one massive bruise and a fucked-up hit. No running for Red Hood for at least a week. (Six weeks for normal humans. Tim was used to the calculation by now.) Oh, and something had crushed his foot—“the building falling on me,” Jason very helpfully informed him—and they had both suffered fourth- and third-degree burns.

Tim began dressing the wounds in silence. His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking, dammit. He was a fucking doctor. His hands were the steadiest thing about him.

It felt like hours passed before he was done.

“You need to stay awake.” His tone was too sharp; he could do nothing to soften it. “With a blast like that, concussions are a given. Is there anyone we could call to stay up with you?”

Dick nodded, then winced. Yeah, he should avoid that movement for a while. “Yes, we could—“

“No.” Jason shook his head.

“No?” Dick looked at him. Something must’ve been telegraphed in Jason’s eyes because Dick continued: “Oh, I mean, no. I’m afraid there isn’t.”

“We’re all alone.”

“Totally.”

Tim sighed. “Don’t you have, like, fifteen siblings and a butler? I should just call Wayne Manor; I’m sure that number is on Google or something—“

“Tim,” Dick said very gently. His hand went up to grasp Tim’s. “Stay with us?”

Tim blinked. “That’s. Really unprofessional.” He didn’t pull his hands away, though.

“You’re in our living room.” Jason shifted—it looked painful—and continued: “Pretty sure nothing about this is professional, so…”

“Please?” Dick asked.

Tim inhaled deeply and shook his head. “You two are so—stupid.” They flinched. “Like, what’re you doing, getting injured like that every week? You’re going to get yourself killed, and then I will have to come up with an explanation and it’s gonna be better than any you ever came up with. You’re gonna be so bad for my blood pressure.”

Dick looked crestfallen, but Jason was starting to grin: “So, you’re staying, then?”

“Duh.”

(I’m taking prompts until the end of the year.)

#elareine writes #jaydicktim

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

Text

“you did what?”

hello, hi!

surprise, i guess? haha. i’m struggling to sleep so i’m letting my imagination run a little wild on google docs and i gained a little inspiration from an episode i’ve just watched of criminal minds and this came out. a little fluff in the workplace. a huge contrast to the previously posted story, full of smut, which you will find linked here.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

“you did what?” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 1.5k

* if you haven’t watched criminal minds then this does contain some spoilers to the show that you may want to dodge if you are thinking of starting the series up. *

summary; when the bau arrive home from a case, spencer has something exciting to tell yn.

As soon as YN had gotten word of the jet touching ground, the time around her seemed to slow down.

All she wanted was to see her boyfriend after a long day of doing nothing around the office. Having been injured in the field during their last case, with a gunshot wound to her right shoulder, YN had been given strict orders to stay away from any activity until her arm had almost completely healed. Hotch made sure she wasn’t placed actively on a case, using the help of Garcia to keep her grounded in Virginia whilst they flew across the borders, making it clear that she would still be on some use when she wasn’t with them in person. Something Spencer could agree one and was adamant that she followed orders because, even though they were vulnerable to any kind of violence and injury when working a case with a dangerous unknown subject and there was always a likelihood of getting seriously injured or caught in a predicament that caused onsight panic, it scared him to see her get hit in a crossfire. If he had it his way, he’d have requested that they both took their holiday leave so he could help her back to health at home - but he knew, deep down, it wasn’t necessary.

The ding of the elevator was enough to calm the butterflies in her belly.

Morgan was the first to leave the confined space and gave YN a side-hug, being careful not to jolt her arm with his sudden movement, before he rushed away and disappeared round the corner. Hotch gave her warming and welcoming smile and a subtle nod, which she returned in his favour, and she watched him walk into the unit whilst undoing the button of his sui jacket and carrying his briefcase in his free hand. Blake had given her uninjured shoulder a squeeze on the way passed with a knowing look in her eye, a twitch in her eyebrow directed behind her and had YN looking at the elevator. JJ and Spencer were the last to leave the elevator, deep in a conversation with Rossi, that YN could only work out was his time in the marines from the way he was talking to passionately.

“Hey, you. You’ll never guess what your boy wonder did today,” JJ grinned, squeezing YN into a gentle hug before releasing her, allowing Rossi to come along and show his appreciation of his welcome by squeezing her elbows. Squeezing one a little softer than the other to not add injury to an existing one, “genius here delivered a baby.”

And with that, the two of them had left Spencer and her alone in the hallway.

“You did what?”

YN stood stunned in her place, barely able to move any part of her body nor close her mouth that had gawped open in surprise, watching and feeling him step closer to her. His tattered trainers squeaking on the tiled floor beneath him with each step he took in her direction, his eyes never leaving the sling that her arm had been tucked into for the last few days, guilt sinking to the bottom of his gut because he probably could have prevented her from being in the pain she was in by simply following her when she disappeared to check a room and spooked the unsub who had been hiding. His body stopped before her, almost awkwardly and like they hadn’t been dating for almost 6 years, almost like they were new to a workplace romance and didn’t want anyone to see them so soft towards each other.

“Yeah, I- uh,” he blushed softly and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, something YN had found out to be one of the tics that showed up when he felt a little under pressure and anxious over a situation, “I delivered a baby.”

“You- you helped a woman give birth? In the field? A baby?”

YN had a million questions running through her mind; how the hell did he end up in a situation where he had to help a victim give birth to a baby? How was it safe enough for a woman to be giving birth if she was surrounded by police cars and police units and weapons all around with a dangerous unsub so close to the scene? Why did he decide he was the best one in the team to become a temporary midwife for the moment? When did he learn so much about labour and delivery?

She wished she had been there to watch as Spencer took control of the situation whilst keeping everyone in and around the scene calm and collected, a slight sense of panic in every word he spoke and every action he played, his mind tunnel-visioned on making sure the baby came out healthy and crying for the touch of its warm and nurturing mother. His calming tone being of good use, letting his hand go through the abuse of a woman taking her pain out on squeezing through her contractions, not letting anything get too out of control so that the baby was born into a room that had only, minutes before, been a scene that no baby should have been brought into.

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I helped a woman give birth to a baby out in the field,” he repeated, his arm falling down to his side, the leather strap of his go-bag slipping down to his elbow, something he corrected and hoisting it back up onto his shoulder, slipping it over his neck to keep it in a more secure place around his body, “something my eidetic memory will had trouble forgetting.”

YN snorted and rolled her eyes, stepping forward and wrapping her free arm around his waist, welcoming him home with a warm hug and a little intimacy that had gone missing over the last few days; he’d been on a case and YN had been the one left behind to work alongside Garcia on the computers, for obvious reasons. A time she took advantage of and used to complete files with deadlines she had missed because they piled up on the corner of her desk and almost towered her standing figure, that she couldn’t do as quickly as she could with two working arms.

“I read a lot of books about labour and delivery when JJ was pregnant with Henry. You know, just in case she went into labour somewhere where we couldn’t get her to a hospital in time. We needed someone on the team who knew what they were doing so she was doing it correctly,” he explained, arms tight around her waist and a kiss pressed to her forehead after he had concluded his sentence, inhaling the scent of her hair that hadn’t been used with the shampoo that held her usual scent - it was his shampoo and he’d know that scent anywhere and every now and then, keeping it hidden from Spencer, she liked to used his soap and his shampoo to smell like him because she missed his presence around her. “I’d like to think I’d get a job as a midwife almost instantly now. I have experience.”

“At least we’ll be prepared if we ever had to go through it personally,” she hummed, looking up at him and resting her chin upon his chest, his neck craning back so he could press a kiss to her lips and shake his head with a smile. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion though so she was unsure of how he truly felt on the subject of having children. Her fingers dug underneath the hem of his buttoned shirt, fingertips touching the naked skin of his hip, forefinger drawing circles into the soft flesh beneath, “what? We might have a baby and the story of daddy delivering them would definitely be one to tell at Christmas time when they’re all-.”

“We will,” he interrupted, squeezing her hips before releasing her body from his hold, “we will have a baby. I’m not even going to doubt that.”

Not yet, of course.

They had perfect jobs that they loved to be actively involved in, they had a life they were enjoying as just the two of them, they had an single-bed apartment that didn’t feel like a good fit for raising a baby, and they didn’t feel they had enough life experience to even think about trying for a baby. They may have been dating for six years but, in the last two, they’d only just learnt to live with one another, figuratively and literally.

“A baby?” Garcia gasped loudly from behind the two of them, a shocked yet excited expression written all across her face, coffee dribbling down the side of her coffee mug and droplets landing on the floor beside her feet, dressed in the brightest pair of pink high heels she could find in her wardrobe. “Are you guys-”

“No,” YN blurted out, and turned around at her sudden presence, shaking her head quickly with a giggle, “no, we’re not pregnant. Garcia, we’re not.”

“Damn it,” she frowned, her body sinking closer to the floor in dismay, “I was hoping for a new godchild to spoil.”

“One day,” Spencer smiled, dipping his head down and hiding the smile within the fuzz of YN’s air that had become a little messy over the stress of the day, “one day, Garcia. One day.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader imagines #spencer reid x reader insert imagines #spencer reid x yn imagines #spencer reid fics #spencer reid x reader fics #spencer reid x reader insert fics #spencer reid x yn fics #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader insert imagines #matthew gray gubler x yn imagines #matthew gray gubler fics #matthew gray gubler x reader fics #matthew gray gubler x reader insert fics #matthew gray gubler x yn fics

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years

Text

An Incriminating Blush - Moniwa x Reader

Summary: As you finally allow Moniwa to help you with your project, you wonder if the guy you've fallen for would ever like you back.

Pairing: Moniwa x f!reader

Genres, tropes, etc.: fluff, pining, getting together, friends to lovers, second year Moniwa

Words: 1,461

Author's Notes: I'm back to writing for an underrated character. lol. Another one of those, 'I don't know if anyone will read it but I'm going to write it anyway' lol. It's been a long time since I've written something so if you're on my taglist and aren't interested anymore, just let me know through this Google doc.

Author's note 2: This is the one-shot version of the Operation Moniwa SMAU that I dropped. This fic is pure romance though. I couldn't keep up the comedy in the SMAU. lol.

*****

Biting his lip as he held the stylus, Moniwa's hand glided over your drawing tablet, outlining the roof of the cafe.

"I told you to stop drawing," you remembered Moniwa scolding you the day before.

You sighed, watching him as he continued to draw on the digital canvas. You preferred to do the work by yourself, but Moniwa's offers were persistent because you often took on too much work. Even with your school's art festival coming up soon, you continued to refuse his help until you finally injured your wrist.

Your eyes fell on Moniwa's arm and hand as he continued to draw strokes on the awnings. Two of his knuckles were wrapped with tape from a toss gone wrong. A splinter from woodworking class made its mark on his thumb. Yet his fingers moved precisely from the abundant practice from creating technical drawings.

Looking at his furrowed brows, you admired the man you had fallen for. "You're really good at this," you commented with a gentle smile.

Still focused on the drawing, Moniwa replied with a wide grin, "I told you to let me help."

You laughed, expecting this answer. "How's the volleyball team doing?" you asked.

Moniwa sighed and slumped back on his chair as he reflected on their recent team meeting. "They made me the captain for the spring tournament," he told you. "The third years decided to retire to focus on school."

"That really suits you," you laughed.

"You haven't seen what my kouhais are like," he said. "Those first years are going to give me so much trouble."

"I'm a first year too," you said with a smirk.

After thinking for a moment, he replied, "That explains a lot."

You laughed and punched his arm in response. "So how are the other guys doing? Sasaya? Kamasaki?"

"Oh them?" he hummed. "They've been trying to set me up with someone...," he explained, words trailing.

You felt your stomach tighten, knowing exactly why. You ignored it. "That's sweet of them," you said with a smile.

"I thought so too at first. But then it got awkward, so I told them to stop," he continued. "Especially when I found out it was you..." Moniwa suddenly pressed his lips together, realizing he said too much. "Sorry! I shouldn't have told you that!" he explained in a fluster. "Now I'm just making it more awkward," he added, slapping his own forehead.

"No! No! It's okay!" you reassured him. "It's not awkward at all," you lied. You had always thought that Moniwa had only seen you as a friend, which was why you continued to hide your feelings from him. You were content enough to continue with your unexpected friendship with him. You held it close to your heart, attempting to protect it from cracking under your care.

After Moniwa left, you sat on your bed, the mattress sinking under your weight. Heaving a sigh, you wondered if you should move on. You've liked Moniwa since you had met him at the skating park a year ago, before you had entered high school. You shook your head, wishing to direct your mind elsewhere only to start scrolling through your past messages with him.

Moniwa was eager to help you when your skateboard broke. The axel was rusted and caused the front wheels to be unstable. You tried to use it anyway, only to be met with frustration. The skateboard was a gift from your eighth birthday. You had it for six years.

When Moniwa said he could salvage it, you didn't believe him, especially since he was only a year older than you. With scrap metal from projects and access to the machines at school, your next skateboard ride was smooth as if it were new again.

Lying on your bed, you shifted and faced the other way. You knew Moniwa was the kind of guy who'd help anyone. But when he started helping your classmate, Ami, with her theatre set, you couldn't help but be jealous. You knew he must have been busy constructing it, which was one of the reasons why you initially rejected his help. But he continued to insist, especially after you injured your wrist. You couldn't help but feel a little special, only to remember that this was normal for his personality.

Sighing, you thought that maybe it was enough to just be friends.

*****

It was 7 o’clock in the evening when you popped your head into the back theatre room. You saw Moniwa from the hallway after leaving your own classroom. With the school festival a week away, Moniwa was alone putting together the large pieces of the ship deck for the play.

The deck was about six feet wide. There was just barely enough room for it because one side of the room was filled with rows of costumes while the far side was filled shelves of various props. You spotted a decorative mirror, a Victorian dress, and a few jousting swords.

You gave Moniwa a large wave to get his attention. His eyes lit up when he saw you and he placed his power drill on his work table once he finished fastening the screw. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I finished up my tasks for our class’s activities. So I ran away before the class president could nag me to do more work,” you laughed as you shuffled into the room. “I only wanted to take a break and see what everyone else was working on.”

Moniwa smiled, giving a light tap on your head. “Y/n, you should go back. You’re always running away from your class prez.”

You pouted, rubbing your head to pretend you were hurt. “And I thought I left the nagging.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come here,” he said with a smug grin.

You heard chatter and footsteps from the hallway and quickly pushed Moniwa further into the room. After taking a few steps back, Moniwa stumbled on some costumes that were on the floor and he barely caught himself when he almost tripped on them. You also slipped but Moniwa’s chest and arms prevented you from falling.

Lifting your eyes to meet his, you remembered that Moniwa looked taller when he wasn’t beside his giant teammates. But as your gaze focused on him, he quickly turned his head away from you. He didn't realize that his action did very little to hide his face. After glancing to the side to the decorative standing mirror, your eyes widened.

"Moniwa…," you said. "Are you blushing?"

"N-n-no I'm not!" he stuttered, frantically waving his arms. But it was obvious to you because he had turned his face back to you, now seeing an even clearer view of his red nose and cheeks.

When you raised an eyebrow, he promptly covered his face with his hands and threw his head back in defeat. "Sorry Y/n," said his muffled voice. "Pretend you didn't see that."

You saw him bite his lip as he turned away from you, presumably to leave the room. When you grabbed his hand, he froze. You felt his hand clam up.

"What if I don't want to pretend," you told him. Moniwa turned to you, blinking a few times, your words not making any sense to him. So you clarified. "Moniwa, I like you."

At first, he froze. He was so stiff that you thought he wouldn't move even if you were to give him a poke. But when he came to, his words rushed out of his mouth in a fluster. "What? Why would you like me? You're smart and pretty and talented and fun to be around…" He continued to ramble. "And I'm plain and boring and not very strong and–"

You quickly cut him off when you hugged his waist and relaxed onto his chest. He liked you. You couldn't believe he liked you. Moniwa just didn't understand how amazing he was. You were pretty sure Ami liked him as well. You sighed, wishing you had noticed his insecurities earlier. You've been watching him for at least a year. You felt like you should have known.

You laughed, more out of relief than amusement. He liked you back. All those memories of you anguishing over your unrequited feelings suddenly vanished and were replaced with joy. He liked you.

Moniwa flailed his arms when you fastened your hold even tighter on his waist. He quickly scanned the room, nervous that others might have seen.

"So are you going to hug me back or not?" you asked.

"I- Is that okay?"

You gave him a smirk, then a peck on the cheek. "Of course."

You once again saw that blush that you were waiting months to finally see. A blush reserved only for you.

*****

I hope you liked it. If you like my stories, here's a Google form to be added to my taglist and/ or check out my masterlist to see all of my writing.

Taglist: @celestialarchiveshq @whootwhoot @charmingchikara @megumiisee @anejuuuuoy @pastel-prynce + @iwaisa (because it's Moniwa)

#haikyuucreations #haikyuu x reader #moniwa x reader #moniwa kaname #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #moniwa fanfiction #dateko x reader #dateko #datekou #haikyuu dateko #date tech #date tech high #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu

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heroprose · 3 years

Text

aromatic;

a/n. forewarning for the usual vampiric shenanigans.

ship. hitoshi shinou x reader

summary. contemporary vampire au. (+ slight office au)

hitoshi shinsou despises you, you’re certain of this.

what you’re not quite sure of is where all the animosity stemmed from, especially since he seemed to conduct himself well enough with everyone else.

out of all your fellow colleagues, he treated you with the most transparent curtness, from promptly exiting whenever you entered the breakroom for a refreshment, to visibly retching the one time you tried to take an empty seat next to him during a conference (you’ll never forgive him for that slight).

it was really starting to grate on you. you were going to have to confront him about this yourself.

besides, you’ve no longer a choice in the matter: this unspoken tension had begun to affect the workplace, with people sometimes looking to and fro between you and him, confused to high hell why he always kept himself a good several meters away from you if he could-- not that you were complaining. social distancing can be quite mutually beneficial, after all.

and it wasn’t an issue you’d like to bring up with human resources either: that seemed a little too petty, even if he was literally gagging at your presence.

you did try to ameliorate the work relationship-- really, you did. but there’s only so many times you can crack a joke and be left hanging in that awkward silence before you stop altogether. you once thought it’d been something you said in poor taste that made him abhor you so, but unless he had a seething hatred for mild puns, that didn’t seem right.

and so what that you were a newer addition to the team-- you’d entertained the idea that maybe he had a thing against strangers, but hell, it’s been months and even interns get more conversation out of him than you.

although given his visceral reactions, you’re inclined to think it’s something about how you smell... but that’s just insane. you took your daily showers and used reasonable amounts of detergent in your laundry; and if you can take the pungency of axe body spray and the zestiness of dior’s sauvage on every man in the building, then he should be able to tolerate your own signature scent, which wasn’t even that bad... was it?

no one else complained about it though. and you’ve even asked around too, so you know you’re not wearing absolute funk. it’s an unfathomable situation.

today, however, you forewent the perfume. if it really was the fragrance, then this should leave no opening. you’ve tucked the bottle in your workbag instead, in case you needed it like a piece of evidence for his rude behavior, ace attorney style.

you waited until lunch break, where most of the other colleagues would leave the building for nearby restaurants or go to the cafeteria, before approaching him. it was best this way, lest it got weird; at least only few people would witness it.

hitoshi was currently invested in whatever it was on his computer, and if you were correct in his observations, he would pull out his own homemade meal shortly enough to eat at his desk. some days, he didn’t eat at all, which was surely unhealthy but you were hardly in the position to scold him considering your own bad habits. plus you didn’t want him to hate you even deeper.

you got to observe this routine over a good number of weeks and it was truly no easy feat, with his desk set in the far corner of the workplace far from the wall-length windows and him being constantly out and about on his own assignments.

with your workbag in one hand, you walk up to him with as much nonchalance as you could muster. “hey! not going down to the cafe today?” it’s rhetorical: you knew he wasn’t.

he hardly responds, eyes flickering up at you briefly and giving a greeting nod before returning to his work. “mm.”

you round the corner of the desk so that you stand beside him. leaning down slightly to squint at the screen, you deliberately put yourself in his space. “oh wow, the deadline’s so far away but you’re already working on this part?”

he began to open his mouth, only to clap a hand over it with remarkable speed. and he coughs, goodness, with shoulders jumping.

“oh my god,” you can’t help but say as you withdraw. could he smell it even from your bag? you weren’t even sure if it was the perfume or just you anymore. “okay, i’ll cut to the chase. can we talk? alone?”

you’d think he would think it over, at the very least, to give a semblance of polite reflection. “no,” is his immediate reply, spoken forcefully, so forcefully that a lone passing colleague even gives you two a glance.

“i was, uh, just leaving,” they say. “want anything?”

“i’m good, thanks,” you reply, bidding them farewell with a breezy smile before refocusing on hitoshi. he has already turned away from you, eyes blazing at the computer screen.

without another word, you reach over, placing a hand over his, and drag his mouse to click out of his report.

“what do you think you’re doing?” hitoshi demands, jerking away from your touch. and he’s angry now, genuinely irritated: you can see it in the way his jaw tightens. too bad you’ve been annoyed ever since you’ve been moved to this department.

“it was google docs, relax. your work is saved,” you soothe over. “now come with me. i just want to talk to you for five minutes, tops. please.”

he’s deeply conflicted for a heartbeat, but finally relents. “five minutes,” he echoes. you give him the space to stand up, clutching your workbag strap tightly in your fist. if he knew what this was about, he gave no mention as he walked openhanded behind you.

hastily, you lead him to the breakroom. with its doorless entrance, you assumed that the ventilation there would be moderately good, if it got too stuffy for him. then again, you wouldn’t of minded if he suffocated a bit either. admittedly, the entire floor was probably empty save for you two, so this dialogue could’ve been held out in the open but it didn’t hurt to have that extra layer of seclusion.

“i already know,” you say into the quietude, leaning against the counter. behind you, the coffee machine beeped every so often. someone should get that fixed. you cross your arms and look at him carefully. the vents are tinny above you two, warm air rushing out noisily.

“you-- what?” his dark eyes widen ever so slightly, and for once, his expression isn’t quite so tense with you. “what do you know?” he must’ve not expected you to be so direct. he takes his hand out of his pocket.

“you know what i’m talking about. why you treat me like, i don’t know, the plague?”

“i don’t do that.”

“you nearly threw up when you saw me.”

hitoshi stays silent. ha, gotcha! “i only coughed,” he relents eventually.

“whatever. and i know it’s not me and that it’s really all you because guess what? no one else has this problem. and i’m thinking you don’t want me to air out your business to everyone else because that would be...” weird, for one, but you didn’t want to ruin your own case. “doesn’t matter; in any case, there’s no reason to be rude over this.”

“alright. so you know. i avoid you because of your scent.” his voice is dangerously calm. “what are you going to do about me, then?”

“about you?” you repeat with a scoff, “oh, so i should report you? what would i even say? HR would laugh at me.”

he smirks, chin jutting out. “right.”

“so now i only have one question. wait, make that two.”

“go on.”

“how should we fix this? because obviously i don’t want our little dance to start affecting our work ethic. you can’t wave me away forever. it’s how i smell, right? do you have a recommended detergent or deodorant, or something?” you ignore the fact that you’ve technically asked three questions.

“none of that covers it,” he mutters and your jaw drops. “masks don’t help either.”

“no way. i smell that b-- you know what... moving on. we’ve got to compromise somewhere though. but not my perfume.” your hands reflexively ball up. there’s no camera, so if you did something unsavory, there equally wouldn’t be any real witnesses...

“your perfume,” he repeats, seemingly dissatisfied.

“yeah, no way. that’s my signature scent. go wear nose plugs or something, if it’s that bad. and i can’t believe you say scent and not body odor, like just call it what it is! damn.”

the coffee machine lets out its intermittent beeps. hitoshi just stares at you, mystified. then, he breaks into a snort, like he’s the one who can’t believe he’s having this discussion. “i understand. in that case, i see no solution.” whilst bringing a hand to the back of his neck, he starts to move, intent on passing you to exit the room.

you let out a frustrated noise. “you leave me no choice, hitoshi.”

intending on presently the bottle to him proudly, perhaps even spritzing him once for good measure, you jam your hand into your workbag to fish your perfume out. you grab onto the rectangular shaped glass, and pull it out with great gusto.

and it goes terribly.

to your horror, the bottle slips like butter between your fingers and sails, tumbling down to the floor right in front of you with a heartrending crash, glass splintering like ice. the beautiful blue lid goes spinning across the tiles, and like that, the whole room now blooms a gorgeous citrus, white floral scent. “oh nooooooo! shit!”

no longer minding him, you go to pick up the shards, bending down at the knees with a sigh. gingerly, you begin to clean up.

“hey, be careful. i’ll get a dustpan,” you hear him say and it’s one of the nicest things he’s ever said to you, but in your melancholy, you shake your head solemnly.

“no, no, i’ve got this. i’m just so-- OWW?” you wail without warning. you drop the wet shard you were grasping, still slick with liquid. “ugh, never mind. get the dustpan.” you bring yourself up on your feet again.

using your shoe, you kick the shards into a more cohesive, but wet pile. the clattering of the glass causes you some emotional pain. “terrific,” you mutter, watching blood bead up at across two of your fingertips. “well, at least i won’t be wearing that anymore. right, hitoshi?” you ask sarcastically. shaking your hand to rid it of perfume residue, you end up just flecking your blood droplets all over the floor. you glance up when you’re met with silence. “hitoshi?”

“nnngh...” a low, deep groan escapes his throat, and immediately he turns his cheek and takes several stumbling steps away. he grits his teeth, the vein in his neck growing more prominent like it’s physically paining him to pull apart from you. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...”

“you okay?” you close in on him. it felt almost backwards to ask such a query, seeing as you were the one bleeding. “maybe you should sit d--”

“get away from me,” he all but spits out, eyes squeezed shut. “you set this up, huh? figures.” stray hairs were falling into his face as he presses a hand against his temple and bit back another groan. “i was doing just fine before... so why... nngh.”

you purse your lips. “hey! what do you have against dolce & gabbana’s light blue eau de toilette? it’s a perfectly respectable, fresh, work-friendly fragrance! it was, at least!” you wanted to shout. but that didn’t happen, as your concern and confusion won over your sense of petulance. “set what up?” you ask, bewildered.

on closer inspection, he was not, in fact, okay at all.

for a second, you thought he was having an allergic reaction. that would certainly explain his avoidance of your body, and perhaps why even a deep black had replaced the cool purple in his irises when his eyes snap open to glare. his pupils were blown out despite the bright tube lighting overhead, and his mouth parts wide.

yet an allergy did not explain everything. as opposed to weak, however, hitoshi suddenly looked frightening.

because, instead, what came out of your mouth was a strangled, “uh, what the-- are those fangs?”

and indeed they were, confirmed as they descended upon your skin before you could even blink. at the very least, he had the decency to pant out a small but distinctively unapologetic “sorry” before his lips pressed around your bleeding fingers, tongue hot against the stinging cuts.

you hope fervently your coworkers take their leisure at lunch.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #why do yall still follow me wtf anyway here u go #tbf maybe shinsou prefers chanel no 5 #i think i wanted this to be more twilight adjacent but i dont know what happened

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