#I’m getting to the point where the ideas are building up in my brain and they’re starting to itch

[scarabies-real]

I’m fully “the newest episode of game changer has clues for an arg and the puzzles are unreleased” btw here’s my reasoning

A lot of it kind of ticks at my brain like “wait a minute” but I think the fact that FixItMan78 is still up as a channel even after episode release REEKS of a plant that will dropping clues and/or a trailer and guiding us through the ARG.

But the main thing that cements it to me is actually Zac’s role as grant, where it is specified that this is Literal Grant O’Brien. He is still called Grant, he acts like Grant. Could it be just for the humor factor? Sure, any of these could be, but if that were the case, why not just rewrite the wacky character to be called Zac Oyama? If he were just a funny character to give an opportunity to earn points, why the trivia? And if it were just a time loop, wouldn’t his trivia be the same each time?

Then we add in the fact that a moderator of the dropout discord (beam.) suggested the idea of hiding a season of game changer behind an arg 3 years ago and THAT VERY SAME MODERATOR made a thread called “Deja Vu ARG is Definitely Not Real” but we’ve had

No announcement from any team members that there Is No ARG

No moderators trying to shut down ARG talk

Multiple moderators reacting with winky faces and other such things to theorizing

Sam himself saying before he is interested in an ARG and he would tell us (eventually) if he ever did an ARG

So from my experience of ARG building and being a plant, this suggests to me either one of two things

There is an ARG, but it’s technically “unreleased.” Most likely being released on Sam’s birthday.

There is an ARG, and we have all the answers, but now we need to put together and/or find the puzzles.

Other possible options include:

There is NOW an ARG when there wasn’t before in Escape The Greenroom, but they may have built clues from Escape The Greenroom into the ARG

There is an ARG and we’re not going to get the season finale until we solve something, if not the full ARG itself then one of the puzzles. The season finale will have more clues for the ARG.

There is an ARG and we’re not going to get the season finale until we solve something, if not the full ARG itself then one of the puzzles. The season finale will have the storyline/ending for the ARG all tied up and the rest of the puzzles will just have Easter eggs.

The entirety of season 6 has been an ARG.

There is an ARG, and we have all the answers and the puzzles, but we need to find the story.

There is no ARG and this is just Sam fucking with us on purpose

There is no ARG and we’re all just going insane without a big ARG to keep our little puzzle oriented brains kicking

[floweroflaurelin]

have you seen Minecraft sos?? Pixlriffs made a new vigil!

YES! Im catching up on it and I love everything about the new series 😆

Believe me I’ve been meaning to make art of the lore shenanigans on there hehehe—unfortunately I am genuinely very very sick right now and haven’t been able to paint anything all this month (got covid again on top of other issues) (that immuno can compromised)

But hopefully soon!! I can’t believe I haven’t painted the tool graves yet, or Jimmy going at it in Pix’s hole… I mean. Um,

[sapphic-gardn]

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

[g3l3mb]

how to generate creative ideas:

(i need to get this out of my brain)

Make moodboards, playlists, keep a list of people who inspire you. Before starting a project think about the general vibe you want it to embody. Ask questions like “What would this concept sound like if it was a song?” ,“What would this concept be like if it was a person?”. Create a shirt that looks like a building you like, literally anything can be combined.

Take unrelated things or concepts and mix them together. Let’s take Addams Family as an example. “What if it was a story about a typical suburban family…but GOTH!”. It basically flips everything upside down. Or “What outfit would someone wear, who’s personality is the mix of the vibes of these two songs?” Random word generators are amazing for this if you don’t know where to start from.

Try making something truly BAD and then add a twist to it. It’s a great way for your brain to let go of expectations and then think outside of the box. But you can also use this to find out what you do not wanna do under any circumstances.

Think without worrying about the limits of what you can do and when it’s time for excecution, find a way around what’s impossible. It births more creativity and adds uniqueness.

Consider what your idea is NOT before considering what it is. Limits are the best way to avoid getting overwhelmed and giving up. Don’t ALWAYS do this though (unless you wanna…), it’s just something to try out when you feel like you’re seeing too many possibilities to the point that they’re contradicting each other. Unless your goal is to make something full of contradictions, you’re a Free Man, do whatever you want.

Keep a list of random ideas you have throughout the day in your notes app or something and then at some point actually review them. Keep what you think is worth exploring and then act on it.

Find out how something works very throughoutly so you know which aspect can be changed to create something new.

Take a concept and break it down into smaller concepts, ideas, questions, key elements and then also break those ideas down etc. This will naturally lead to associations, unique ideas you wouldn’t think of without doing this. I found that this is a great way of coming up with metaphors.

This one is similar to the last two: take a piece of art you really love and try to find out the thought process behind. What’s the story, where did the artist get inspiration from, how did they incorporate those ideas in their work. How did an artist combine their personal interests and knowledge into one big thing. For example: Tolkien was an erudite linguist, so much so that he created entire functional languages in his work, such as Elvish in Lord of the Rings. Hirohiko Araki loves 80’s music so much he named characters in Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure after music references. This is why no knowledge is useless knowledge.

Think about the times you’ve been the most creative before. What were the specific circumstances? For me my best ideas always come when I have a strict deadline for something unrelated, like school (which I’m way too willing to sacrifice), or when I’m doing something mindless like walking and listening to music, or playing a game that requires no thinking. Most of the time after 10p.m. This doesn’t mean I can’t “force” myself to be creative (tips above), it just means these are the times ideas come most naturally. For some people this might be being out in nature or experiencing high emotions, maybe having their life on the line idk, to each their own.

You can’t just create. You also need to consume. The more information you absorb, the more possibilities you have with your ideas. So if you’re not feeling that creative, that’s fine, it’s the perfect opportunity to learn something new.

If you don’t already do these things and you’re looking to get more creative my advice is to ACTUALLY TRY THESE OUT. You’ll best understand them in action.

[clockwayswrites]

Clock, I need you to know that I dreamt about that fic you aren't writing.

Clock, I don't dream. And on the very rare instances that I do, it's 99% disjointed nonsense that slips out of my head within 10 minutes of waking up. Literally, in my 24 years of life I've only had like 3 or 4 dreams that actually stuck.

But that fic you aren't writing has apparently sunk itself so deep into my brain that I had a once in a blue moon memorable dream about it.

It was still a bit disjointed, but I distinctly recall a dinner party? potluck? IDK, there was food; at Danny and Jason's apartment complex. Like, the while building. Some of Red Hood's crew was there. And Jason was in civvies. Dick was there too. And Danny was conspiring with everyone (not Jason) to be a mischievous little shit. So there weren't enough chairs. I'm sure you can see where this is going.

Oh my gods that is amazing. Also I'm sorry(?) for making you dream? Or you're welcome?

As a gift, to feed your poor brain... let's write a little bit of this. Hum, when would this happen for max amusement... Let's say this is after Danny has asked Hood if he wanted to share, but before the Goon scene.

-

“What the fuck,” Dick murmured to himself.

“They’re hiding chairs,” the stranger, who Dick hadn’t noticed leaning against the kitchen counter till then, explained.

Dick tilted his head in thought and took another sip of the battery acid they were calling punch at this potluck. The potency of the drink might explain what he was watching happen.

The chair on top of the tenuous stack wobbled dangerous.

One of the men— Marco? —who were trying to shove the stack of three chairs into the closet shushed the chair. He pointed at it like one would a misbehaving dog and that the threat alone would get it to stay.

Definitely the punch.

“Why?”

“Because if there aren’t enough chairs, someone is going to have to sit in someone else’s lap and they’re plotting to make that happen,” the stranger said.

Dick took a moment to glance away from the game of closet Jenga to look over the other person. They were a slight thing, but slight in the way that spoke of lean muscles and a hidden strength. It reminded Dick of how Wally was built. The bright aqua eyes were almost unnerving in how bold the color was. The way they were grinning, widely, as they continued to watch the struggle didn’t exactly make them any less unsettling.

They took a large bite out of the cookie they had in hand.

A cookie sounded like a good idea. Dick snagged one from the platter, recognizing Jason’s baking.

Cinnamon and spice bloomed across his tongue. “Huh. Okay. Does Jason know?”

The stranger laughed, shaking their head. “No, that would defeat the whole purpose. He’s the intended chair.”

“Huh.” Well that was interesting. “Who’s the intended seater. Sitter? Sittie?”

“That would be me,” the stranger said, sticking their hand not holding the cookie out. Dick set his war crime known as punch down to shake it. “Hi, I’m Danny. I’m your brother’s accidental sugar baby.”

Dick choked on thin air.

Just how potent was that punch?

[oct0bra1ns]

Just did my nails and in the hour it took I thought of this so do with it as u please

I don’t know if you’ve ever done anything like this

But like any type of yandere monster recreating your house/ room perfectly and then bringing you there and their super happy bout it and like ‘look what I made! Don’t you just love it? 😊😊”

like a demon? Omgmgmg or some hot vers of boogie man

idk tbh I have a lot of ideas I’m just trying to give u som of my mind

like summoning a demon bc why not? A bitch was bored 🌝 and it’s all scary and shit and you’re just totally chill, “hey man, didn’t mean to summon you- you wanna just like? I don’t know…go back to hell?” And the demon is obv offended

so it follows u around menacingly and yeah

ur his now ❤️

anyways do with this as u please 💕💕 I love ur writing sm btw, I hope the food u eat always taste good and yr pillows are cold on both sides!

Pairing: Yandere Monster x reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others , yanderes, notes: big brain, the best ideas always come when you're doing your nails tbh and THANK YOU, I HOPE THE YEAR GOES AMAZING FOR YOU. reblogs and comments are appreciated!

CONSIDER, the monster had already been admiring you for a while now, taking note of the style you wear, the food you eat, and trying to find what kind of house you'd like so all these things could add up as a plus point when you finally summon him.

Yandere monster who wastes no time in trying to get you to come home with him but the moment you ask him to go back sheepishly, he gives you such an offended looking, asking you what he lacks for you to try to send him away.

Eventually, he gets you to let him stay, allowing to choose whether you want to stay here or go back with him, either way, he'd making sure you lack nothing and are well looked after. He takes pride in knowing your tastes and admires the way your face lights up when you see what he's done for you.

If you choose to stay here, he changes his appearance to fit the standards of the humans whenever outside but in the house, he has no problem flaunting the markings on his skin and horns. To fit in, he uses his influence and power to build up a company from the ground, one where signing a contract with him means selling your soul for success.

He isn't concerned with competition, all he cares about his making sure you're well taken care of but do not mistake this for him being laid back, he's always at your side at parties or anyplace you go to keep other pests away from you, any idiot who dares to approach you will become bankrupt and deal with many things they've been trying to hide or they will be caught in an unfortunate accident.

If you choose to go back to his realm, the way your spoiled only amps up, being from one of the most influential families back home, you've basically become royalty. Of course, his people are not so accepting at first but seeing as he ranks way over them, they keep quiet, his family on the other hand will adore you, admiring the chaos you bring along with being their son's partner.

Always at his side in every event, not as an object to be admired but as his partner and equal and anyone who tries to approach him about how you make an excellent pet will be made an example of what not to do.

Loves picking out clothes for you that are from his realm, tailoring them to fit you perfectly and making sure that above anything else, you love the way it looks.

Any freedom you had back in the world is basically gone in his world, the people here are horrible, you never know when they'll decide to change their mind and try to show off.

octo notes:hmm, thinking of naming him deimos :p

[alexwritingspot]

Hi, I’m obsessed with Jason Grace lately, so can you do #15 when he can’t stop looking at Reader any time he has the chance and Reader just asked him why and ended up in a confession. SORRY I DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH

Too beautiful to not stare…

Pairing: Jason x gn!reader

words count: 800

prompt 15: “…why are you staring at me?”

warnings: none

A day at New Rome spent with your best friend, Jason Grace, will eventually turn out as a confession by both of you.

a/n: Hi lovely! Don’t worry, I don’t speak English either 💀 And also, loved this request, I just had so much fun writing it! Hope it was what you were hoping for, as always, enjoy! (Also, I’m deeply sorry to answer this so late 😭😭 hope you can forgive me babe 🧡)

—————————————————————————

It was a warm day. You had decided to accompany Jason to New Rome after he had told you he needed to visit camp Jupiter to show his projects about the temples. And, given the huge crush you had on the blonde boy, you used every opportunity you had to spend time with him.

You both didn’t know tho, that today the responsible people for projects like these weren’t at camp, and you had to renounce about Jason’s willingness to explain why they should build other temples, and how.

So instead you decided yo take a walk around the streets of New Rome, even stopping by to buy something to eat.

“I’m sorry about it Jason” You told him as the both of you took a seat under a beautiful gazebo, its upper part adorned by a carpet of colourful flowers.

“It’s okay, it’s not like it’s your fault” He simply answered you with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, I know, but still…”

You were really sorry for what had happened. You knew just how much Jason cared about his project and how much he wanted to onor every god around, even if it would have sounded like a crazy plan to anyone else.

Jason took a bite out of his sandwich “Really y/n, don’t worry. Besides even if I didn’t present my models at least you came with me.” He smiled again, this time a bit more genuinely.

You smiled back at him “Yeah, you’re right. At least we get to spend some time together”

You stayed in a comfortable silence for the next minute, really just enjoying your sandwiches and the view. New Rome was a spectacle.

“Do you like it here?” Then Jason suddenly asked. You turned your head to look at him, noticing that his eyes were already set on you. “Yeah, I think this place it’s amazing. As you know at camp half-blood demigods don’t really have a place to stay when they’re older, or even just- you literally have college!”

You kept on talking about why you thought New Rome was actually a clever idea, and why in your opinion camp half blood should have had something’s similar.

And he actually listened to you. That was the thing with Jason. You actually felt heard in a world where demigods couldn’t have it easy. “Sorry I just- I get too worked up” you joked with a chuckle.

“I see your point, don’t worry” he offered you a kind smile. You swore you could have melted on the spot.

You two both fell back into that comfortable silence, just enjoying the sunny day when you noticed that Jason kept staring at you. You looked at him with a small frown of confusion “…why are you staring at me?” You then started panicking “Wait, do I have something on my face? No, I know! Is an insect in my hair isn’t it? Yes it is” You ruffled your hair in attempt to get away the non-existent bug.

Jason started laughing before stopping you by gently holding your wrist and putting it back down. “Nothing like that. I just… You’re too pretty”

You stopped working in that moment. You could have sworn one of those y/n.exe stopped working appeared in your brain. “What?” Was the only reaction that you could get out of your mouth, your confused frown only deepening.

He moved a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I said you’re pretty.” He declared it as if it was no big deal. You blushed slightly, trying to hide it of course.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jason who just chuckled back. “Getting shy, aren’t we?” He teased you, and you playfully hit his arm “Jason Grace, you can’t just tell someone something like that and after pretending that it’s the most obvious thing in the world!”

He just leaned closer to you “Y/n, do you like me?” He then asked you. This guy was a moron, but he was your moron. You ignored how fast your heart was beating at the moment and quickly cupped Jason’s face with your hands and crashed your lips against his.

He was the dumbfounded one now, he just stood there, not even kissing back. You pulled away a few seconds later “Does this answer your question?” You replied playfully. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. He answered you with a smile plastered on his face “It does” And then he kissed you again, and you smiled in the kiss. Yep, you definitely liked this guy.

——————————————————————————————————

a/n: hope this met your expectations! 🧡 (Btw I’m gonna reopen requests soon)

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: Hii! I've been binge-reading all of your stuff and wondered how you'd think RE8 characters would react to lovable idiot reader saying/doing something actually smart for once?

Hehe, just kidding. Anyway, thanks for reading my stuff :) I love this idea! Let’s get into it!

Alcina:

Alcina lounges in her armchair near the fire, a hint of boredom in her eyes as she awaits your company. As silly as you can be, she adores you and hates whenever you two are apart. Thankfully, you finally stroll in. You do have a bit of a mischievous glint in your eyes, though.

“Draga, have you managed to stay out of trouble today?” She inquires, arching an elegant eyebrow.

“Actually, Alci, I’ve been doing some research on the local plants around the castle grounds!” You tell her and go over to give her a kiss. “I know you’re always achy because of the cadou, but apparently a lot of these herbs can help!”

She tilts her head, genuinely intrigued and touched by your thoughtfulness. “Oh? Well, why don’t you tell me more, draga?” She says, picking you up and settling you on her lap to cuddle.

You show her all of your research and Alcina’s eyes widen in surprise.

She feels a little guilty for underestimating your intelligence, but to be fair, you’re not exactly a brainiac. She shakes her head violently as she tries to stop remembering all of the dumb things you’ve done in the past and leans in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Perhaps there’s even more to you than meets the eye, draga.”

Donna:

You’re hanging out with Donna in her workshop when you manage to stumble upon a rare moment of intelligence.

As you examine one of the dolls, you point out a hidden feature Donna has added to its craftsmanship – A small inlay of the Beneviento crest on the back of its neck. It’s something no one else should have been able to notice.

Donna raises an eyebrow, her usually brooding face holding genuine surprise. “You know, tesoro, most people are too terrified to notice the details,” She giggles in her soft voice.

You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. “Well, I’m not most people, babe. I’ve got an eye for the subtle intricacies of your art!”

Donna tilts her head, considering your words (And blushing wildly). It’s a rare occasion for someone to appreciate her work in such a manner, let alone someone as seemingly clueless as yourself.

“You’ve surprised me, cara mia. Perhaps there is a brain in that head of yours after all,” She teases, her tone a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.

You feign offense but chuckle, reveling in the fact that you managed to impress the mysterious doll maker. “You bring out the best in me, babe,” You shrug.

Miranda:

You stand before Miranda, trying to suppress your usual goofy grin. You’ve just had a surprising burst of intellect and want to share an idea with your lover.

“Listen to this, Miranda,” You begin, your eyes gleaming. “I’ve been thinking about the village’s resources, and I believe we should start distribution to other nearby settlements to build a stronger economy.”

Miranda blinks rapidly for a few moments, trying to figure out where you learned those words, before speaking. “Well, well,” She muses, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Did you borrow some wisdom from the local livestock today, my dear? Or did you accidentally stumble upon a hidden cache of brain cells?”

You chuckle nervously, aware of your usual reputation for dumbassery. “Maybe I’ve been hiding my genius all along, just to keep you on your toes!”

Miranda raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “Ah, a mastermind hiding behind the facade of a lovable fool. How intriguing. You’re perfect for me,” She says, nuzzling her nose against yours affectionately.

“I’m no fool! I’m stupid! There’s a difference, babe!” You argue.

Miranda playfully rolls her eyes. “Alright, draga mea. Whatever you say.”

Bela:

You and Bela are cuddling on her bed when you suddenly blurt out something you’ve learned recently (A rare feat).

“Babe, I’ve been researching the architecture of the castle and found out a lot about the Dimitrescu family’s history!”

Bela’s eyes widen comically as she takes in what you just said. She looks at you in disbelief before giggling. “You? Researching? Surely you jest, little one.”

You chuckle, realizing the irony of the situation. “No joke, babe! Turns out I can be smart when I put my mind to it.”

Bela crosses her arms, a sly smirk forming on her lips. “Well, I must say I’m surprised. Tell me more.”

As you continue to share your newfound knowledge, Bela can’t help but be amused by the unexpected display of intelligence from her usually endearing, if not a tad foolish, partner. It seems that beneath your playful exterior, there is a hidden depth waiting to be discovered.

Cassandra:

You find yourself standing in the armory with Cass, surrounded by her impressive collection of weapons. As she inspects a particularly wicked-looking dagger, you decide to seize the moment.

In an attempt to impress Cass, you confidently start spouting off some surprisingly detailed information about the knife’s craftsmanship.

Cass’s mouth hangs open, clearly not expecting such knowledge to come from your lips.

You shrug with a mischievous grin, “I may have a hidden appreciation for sharp things too.”

Cass chuckles, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events. She puts the dagger down and playfully pinches your cheeks. “Perhaps I’ve been underestimating my favorite little dummy.”

Your eyes light up at her words. “Does this mean you’ll let me play with that big ass claymore you always talk about?!”

Cass smirks, her eyes glinting. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, darling. I’m just saying that I suppose even an idiot can surprise me every now and then.”

With that, you find yourself drawn into a delightful conversation about the intricacies of each blade. You even end up earning a few kisses from your girl. Nice work, stupid.

Daniela:

While Dani is certainly fun-loving and lighthearted, few know just how much of a bookworm she is. She loves to learn and reads constantly.

You have definitely picked up on this, though. You want to surprise her with some of the things you’ve found out about her favorite authors.

Dani is currently curled up on her bed (Reading of course), And you stroll in with unbridled confidence. You take a look at the book she’s reading, Carmilla, and decide to show off a bit. “Hard to believe that book was written before Dracula. Le Fanu must have really inspired Stoker,” You remark.

Dani’s eyes shoot wide open and the excited smile on her face is precious. “You like Carmilla?!” She squeals.

You scratch the back of your head. To be honest, that’s kind of all you learned about the book, but you don’t want to seem like too big of an idiot. “Well, I-”

“Come read with me!” Dani says and pulls you onto her bed before resting on your chest.

You hold her happily as she reads to you and inwardly pat yourself on the back. You just scored some serious snuggle time with your favorite person.

Masterlist

[agentmarcuspike]

frankie morales x dominatrix (+ ex!reader)

synopsis: after breaking up with you on a self sabotaging whim, frankie finds his way back into familiar arms to cope content warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction, sub!frankie, destructive and avoidant behavior, sex work, joi (jerk-off instructions), masturbation (m), degredation kink, vague descriptions of dissociation, dom's name is jessica (after my hero @hier--soir), cum, some pain and tears related to jerking off (stop if it hurts, guys!), military related trauma, very brief attempt at aftercare word count: ~ 2.7k a/n: my first frankie fic! thank you, han @swiftispunk, for proof reading af, for encouraging me to conquer my p0rn shame, and of course for writing such an inspiring sub!frankie. we love him (and u)

Frankie knew it wasn’t fair to you. He knew he’d cause you pain by ending things after twelve amazing, promising months. But compared to the inevitable pain he was doomed to bring everyone he loved and cared for, it was nothing. 

He’d been clean for a mere week when you met, and the rush you gave him had been enough to replace the rush of a high. For a while. But when the withdrawals and unrest returned, and the butterflies could no longer keep the cravings at bay, you’d held him through the tremors, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, and at no point had you judged him for his past or his way of coping. You’d loved him. 

And you still did. 

Did he love you too? Most likely. Probably. Yes. Which was why he had done what he had. Because you deserved someone better for you. Someone without his history, his trauma, his wounds. No matter how much he loved you for tending to them, you shouldn’t have had to. And that’s why he’d left, on this gloomy Sunday evening, with no other explanation than, “I’m sorry.”

It’s also why Frankie finds himself roaming the chilly city, street lights blurry, all noises softened by a thick layer of apathy. He has no idea how long he’s been walking, no idea whether he’s tired or not. He feels like a shadow of himself, with no wants or needs, no ambition or goals. Just a body moving, constantly moving, to avoid having to think or feel. But as a bicycle quickly swooshes past him on the sidewalk, almost knocking him over, he stops in his tracks and looks around. 

He finds he’s made his way to the other side of town. The air is thicker here somehow, heavier with desperation than in the area he'd tricked himself into thinking he'd belonged in for the past couple years, amongst white picket fences and successful neighbors.

Here, the atmosphere is familiar. People seeking shelter between dumpsters, some asleep, some chasing relief in a fashion Frankie is all too acquainted with. A single buzz goes off in his head when the urge comes back to him. It would be so easy. He knows where to get it, knows how it works. Where to go, who to see, what to say. It would give him the energy to do whatever he could to keep this heartache away. 

So he sets his legs back in motion. At the end of the street, they make a conscious right, a left, and then his mind is wandering again, off in a different direction than his feet. And then his feet stop. He’s standing outside of a regal looking building. Off-white stone façade, adorned with French balconies and decorations, art deco mascarons staring down at him with empty eyes.

Two white columns frame the heavy front door he’s walked through so many, many times. Not since you, though. Frankie has not had the need to visit this place since you first locked eyes with him. 

Without a second thought, before he can change his mind, he rings the doorbell and he’s buzzed inside. With every heavy step up the marble stairs, echoing off the shiny walls, the lights in Frankie’s brain turn off one by one. As he reaches the fourth floor, he’s merely a shell of himself, a puppet on a pair of floppy strings, longing for someone to take control.

He stands still on the landing for a minute, breathing slowly, deliberately, waiting for his arm to rise and knock on its own. It doesn’t, so he orders his hand to place three quick raps on the door.

A few seconds later, a woman comes out. Her hair is tied up, haphazardly moved out of her face and neck with an elegant claw clip. The hand she’s not using to hold the door open is placed in front of her, fingers in a fist clutching the two sides of a silk robe together, careful not to expose more of herself than what’s already poking out from underneath the short covering.

“Frankie…?” she asks, brows raised in surprise. 

He gives her a nod and a weak, “Hi” in response, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. “Jessica,” he mutters. 

The woman takes a step over the doorstep, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

“I didn’t expect you! We didn’t have an appointment today, did we?” Her voice is slightly panicked, worried she’s forgotten, her eyes darting quickly down to the non-existent watch on her wrist.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, opening and closing his fidgety hands. “I just…” His voice cracks, he swallows and tries again. 

“I just need two minutes.” 

Something in his core refuses to let him look at the woman in front of him. 

He knows her well, knows she’d never judge him. She’s seen him in much more vulnerable positions than this, and yet, something about being so emotionally affected in front of her has him staring at the floor.

She leans down, bending at the waist and tilting her head to find his eyes, making him look at her. When he does, his voice is weak, but assured. He knows what he needs. “Please.”

The plea is enough. Jessica gives him a subtle nod before stepping aside and letting Frankie in. 

He automatically kicks off his shoes and parks them by the door. Straightening back up, arms fixed by his sides, he awaits further instruction.  

“Clothes off, sweetie,” Jessica commands softly. “And wait right here for me. Be right back.” She disappears from the hallway and into the living room, leaving Frankie alone to undress. He makes quick work of it, not bothering with all the buttons, careless about whether they end up inside out or not. 

He sheds his clothes like he wants to shed his skin and grow a new one. A brand new layer, thicker than the one he has, one free of marks from your bruising touch.

On autopilot, he drops to his knees on the tiled hallway floor, hands clasped behind his back, easily and comfortably slipping back into the familiar cadence of compliance. 

The hard cold surface keeps him from crashing into the floor, from falling through it, by burrowing into his knees, stone against bone. He forces all of his attention to the sensation; the dull ache in his kneecaps, the strain in his thighs. The feeling of staying in position despite the discomfort fills him with a sense of pride and control only certain things can give him. One of them is playing the part of soldier, fighting on someone else’s behalf. The other is this; surrendering completely to someone else’s needs and wishes. 

Jessica is back a quick minute later. 

“Come in, Frankie.” 

Hands on the floor for support, he rises and follows her. 

The room isn’t new to him. He’s seen it before, but only in passing, on his way to her bedroom, to the bathroom and back again. But he’s never spent time there, or had the opportunity to really see her private space. It’s a stark contrast to her cold and minimal bedroom. The space isn’t big, so the green velvet couch placed in the middle of the room instead of against a wall is a bold choice. To the left and right of the sofa sit two small side tables, the floor space covered by a massive persian rug. 

Jessica gestures to this rug as she sits, legs crossed and arm thrown casually over the back of the sofa, causing her robe to cleave at the top, showing off her clavicles. 

Frankie finds his place in the middle of the carpet. He should feel vulnerable, fully naked in a new environment. But Jessica’s mild authority, untroubled by the situation, keeps him calm. 

“You just need two minutes, you said?” 

Frankie nods. 

“Very well, then. Two minutes is what you get,” she declares. And then, demanding:

“Kneel.”

And Frankie does. One knee at a time touches the soft carpet beneath him. His hands come down to support him before he sits back on his heels, head bowed, only looking up at her through his lashes when he hears her shuffle.

From the side table to her right, she picks up a round egg shaped gadget and turns the top and bottom halves in opposite directions. For a second he thinks it’s gonna vibrate, until he hears the ticking. Jessica puts the kitchen timer back down on the side table.

“Those are your precious seconds, big boy. You better start touching yourself.”

Frankie’s hand automatically shoots down to palm himself, already half hard from excitement, but seeing his hesitant movements, she clarifies.

“Two minutes to come for me, or you’re not gonna be allowed to come in a very…,” She drags out the pause between the words, “...Very long time. Understand?”

Frankie nods. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is hoarse with anticipation. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” She gives him a wink. “Now go on, make yourself come for me.”

Her command, combined with the ticking sound of time passing, has him quickly tugging at himself, eroticizing anything and everything he can see around him to get there; Jessica’s toned and shiny calves, the way a stray piece of hair has escaped her claw clip and softly caresses her cheekbone. His hand is tight around his cock as he fists himself frantically. Precum starts to gather at his tip, glistening in the soft lighting, and he smears it over his length.

Jessica spreads her legs on the couch in front of him, making Frankie groan with impatience, but she quickly places a hand in her lap, blocking his view.

“Look at you. So needy, so whiny.”

Frankie moans, not meeting her gaze, the quick pumps of his wrist making him sore and frustrated and he can feel something building, but he’s not quite there yet.

“I haven’t even undressed and you’re all worked up.” Her voice is soft and obnoxiously affectionate. “How pathetic.” 

He finally looks up at her face, his sad eyes begging for more; Frankie wants her to look at him too. Wants her to see him. But she doesn’t pay him any mind, she’s only eyeing the ticking clock. 

“One minute now,” she tsks. “It’s all the time you deserve, to be honest.”

And now she looks at him. Her gaze is sharp and domineering, but there’s something round behind it. Something in the shape of worry. It quickly disappears when she speaks again.

“You’re not worth any more of my attention,” she continues. “A disgrace, that’s what you are. Just a dirty, filthy masturbator.” 

As she shifts slightly in her seat, her robe slips off of one of her shoulders, exposing more of her skin and chest. Frankie swallows harshly at the sight. 

Mouth agape, tongue poking out to wet his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the command, his one objective: come. The soft hairs of the carpet are starting to feel like knives, boring into his skin, a welcome pain were it not distracting him from the task at hand. He shifts ever so slightly from side to side, relieving his knees from the hurt in turn.

Jessica must sense his discomfort, because she purrs, 

“You’re not gonna come all over my carpet, are you?”

Frankie shakes his head frantically and begins to walk on his knees towards the shiny hardwood floor. 

“I’d have to make you clean it up,” Jessica continues.

Tears are pushing behind Frankie’s eyes as he nears release. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth, trying to block out the timer’s insistent ticks. 

“10 seconds, now,” she informs him. He squeezes his cock even harder, pumping himself with short quick strokes. Blood rushes through his ears, muffling Jessica’s voice as she counts down.

“Five, four…”

He’s outside of his body. His breath hitches.

“Three, two–”

As the room fills with the shrill of the alarm, Frankie’s cock pulses in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot cum onto the floor. He keeps going, using his own spend as lubrication, choking his hard length until he’s shuddering, hunched over, sweaty and teary eyed. 

Frankie’s body slants forward. He steadies himself with his hands on his thighs, blinking slowly as he concentrates on catching his breath, returning his body. Jessica is patient. She waits until his chest fills and empties itself of air at a reasonable pace, and then she stands up and walks towards him. 

His head shoots up when she reaches him, but she places herself behind him, a comforting hand on each of his shoulders, and bends down to kiss his head.

“Stay,” she whispers as she gets back up and moves to leave the room, Frankie left on the floor with his thoughts and his mess. He wonders if he should clean up–even if he had managed to avoid the carpet–but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Jessica is back. She’s carrying his things, his shirt hanging over her arm as she works to turn his other clothes right side out. 

Slowly, carefully, she helps him back into what he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. One hand through the sleeve. Then the other. Stepping into his underwear, then his jeans, one leg at a time. She saves his hat for last. Before placing it over his messy head of curls, she cups his face with the palm of her hand. 

She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips barely brushing his skin. Frankie blinks. Accepting softness from Jessica isn’t new to him, but the words she gives him after take him by surprise.

“I’m proud of you, Frankie.” 

Her eyes are earnest, open, genuine. He almost finds it in him to believe her, and allows himself to lean into her touch, resting his heavy head on her palm for a second shorter than he’d like to, breaking away when the darkness behind his closed eyelids makes way for pictures of you holding him, him leaning back on you. 

He quickly reassesses, telling himself this is your job, that he’s a customer, that he hadn’t even made an appointment. He should tip you at least 200%. Shaky hands dig into the pockets of his jeans, pulling out no more than two twenties. 

Swearing under his breath, Frankie starts to panic. 

“I– I didn’t…” he begins. “It was so spontaneous–”

She shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.” Her smile is heartfelt, which embarasses him even more. “I’m just glad you came.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, I wanna pay. I mean, speaking of coming, let me at least wipe my cum off your floor.” He gestures to the sticky mess slowly coagulating on her floorboards. 

Jessica snickers.

“Do you do the dishes when you’ve eaten out too?” She raises her brows, and he chuckles, shaking his head quietly. 

“It’s all part of the service, baby. Come on, let me walk you out.”

On the doorstep, he gives Jessica a quick kiss goodbye. He thanks her again, and she thanks him back, though for what he’s not sure. Visiting? Choosing her? The company? Either way, he takes her gratitude and shoves it in his pocket with the twenties. When he reaches the lobby, passing a wall full of mailboxes, he quickly locates hers, and swiftly shoves the two bills into the mouth of it. 

Frankie’s feet start moving down the street, and his head absentmindedly follows. His skull is no less heavy, the feelings just as painful, and pictures of you still project onto the insides of his eyelids every time he blinks. But a lightness now coats his mind. A sense of victory. He resisted the easy way out. He chose to stay sober, even though he could’ve so easily gone back to his old ways of burying any unwanted feelings in torrents of snow. 

And with that feeling of achievement, of growth and gain, he realizes where his feet are taking him. The tall buildings turn into houses, the shop windows into white picket fences. In the distance he makes out the house you’ve made a home together. He prays you’ll open the door. That you’ll give him some time. He just needs two minutes.

i have a feeling tumblr is limiting my posts or something, and i don't have a taglist, so here are some absolutely no pressure tags for people i think might enjoy this/who have liked my previous fics?? let me know if i'm wrong!!

@joelsversion @joelscruff @missredherring @iamasaddie @toxicrecs @eupheme @sweetercalypso @mrsmando @lunitareads @amanitacowboy @tieronecrush @psychedelic-ink @perotovar @thetriumphantpanda @joelsgreys @undercoverpena @pedgito @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

[heliads]

Okay so here come the Enola Holmes requests; hear me out, Tewksbury best friends to lovers where the reader makes things out of paper and tries to teach Tewksbury how to make paper flowers when he asks. He SUCKS at it, but he's head over heels for her and so he spends hours alone practicing and he makes her this cute bouquet out of newspaper and maybe it has like a little love confession note or something in it idk idk but my brain is in overdrive rn

YES this idea is literally the cutest thing ever to me, hope i did it justice!

masterlist

Tewkesbury doesn’t know that he’s lost until he sees her. It’s been too long since he’s been able to get away like this, trade off the drama of the House of Lords and every rule he’s expected to follow for the actual thrills of life. It may be his destiny to grow so deeply entrenched in politics that he stops seeing the difference between his working life and the rest of his waking one, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Needless to say, the second he was able to skive off another day spent around the members of Parliament, Tewkesbury did so with a flourish. He could think of nothing better than tracking down his best friend and spending the rest of the weekend annoying her without pause, but now that he’s actually here, he finds himself coming up short. It was supposed to be nothing out of the ordinary, these couple of days away, but yet when Tewkesbury stares at the girl who’s been like a sister all of these years, he suddenly wishes that connection would disappear in his head forever.

The problem is that the girl who looks up at him with a smile when she sees him looks different somehow, as if spending a mere month or two out of her company has been enough to completely rewrite Tewkesbury’s entire mental picture of her. Do her eyes always shine like that when she sees him, or is that new? Has he always wanted to smile like mad whenever they’re together, or is that the lingering affection of some new affliction Tewkesbury doesn’t think he could name if he tried?

It shakes him to the core, this sudden feeling. One moment, he’s rounding the corner to meet up with a friend, just that, and then he’s looking at this girl and all he can think about is that he never wants to leave her side again. Politics can go to hell without him. Tewkesbury only has an excuse to leave the government buildings for this weekend, but he wishes it could be forever.

He doesn’t have all of eternity to ponder this, though. Y/N L/N races up to him when their eyes meet, and then he’s standing before her, breathless and wondering how on earth he is supposed to go about as if nothing has changed when he’s pretty sure that every possible thing has.

Y/N, however, seems utterly devoid of the miraculous transformation currently wreaking havoc in between Tewkesbury’s ribs. “It’s wonderful to see you,” she beams, “I was beginning to think that you’d gone ahead and moved into the Palace of Westminster forever. I haven’t seen you in years.”

Tewkesbury finds it within himself to scoff at this blatant lie. “That’s absurd. I saw you not seven weeks ago.”

Y/N arches a disbelieving brow. “Yes, seven weeks ago. That’s a perfectly ordinary time to go without visiting your best friend even once, you traitor.”

Tewkesbury clasps a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Cruel. I have never once been a traitor to you.”

He doesn’t know that he could, now. He can’t imagine a world in which he is not following her around, either in endless loops around the London streets or in constant cycles of daydreams in which Tewkesbury is able to put an actual name to the emotions currently driving him mad.

Y/N grins. “I’m glad to hear it. I was worried for a second there, you know.”

“No you weren’t,” Tewkesbury laughs.

“Perhaps not,” Y/N says with an elaborate shrug, “but I like to keep you on your toes. It makes for a more dramatic weekend if we’re both slinging accusations left and right.”

“Not as fun, though,” he argues.

Y/N concedes this point through a solemn nod. “No, not as fun. I’ve never had to worry about fun with you, though.”

She looks up at him with a smile, and Tewkesbury thinks that his heart might explode out of his chest. He wants to say something, needs to say something, but all he can manage is–

“You know what would be fun? If you showed me how to make those paper crafts. I know you can do it, I’ve seen you make tons of stuff from paper before. It’s really cool, and I missed seeing you do it. I missed–”

He cuts off the hopeless flood of words before he can say something incriminating like that he missed her, but Tewkesbury gets the feeling that he’s already said too much. Also too little at the same time; Y/N promises him that they’ll get to make the paper shapes as requested, but he swears her face drops a little, like she could sense that there was something Tewkesbury was trying to say but just couldn’t manage. He wants to try again, but the words choke up his throat and he can’t get out a single syllable.

Instead, he contents himself with watching Y/N as they walk, how the sun dapples her skin with endless patterns of gold. He watches as they leave the streets as well, once they head for Y/N’s house down the block. Tewkesbury pushes the door open; it’s always been more of his home than any other corner or annex of his family place. This is where he feels at peace, and although he’s always thought that was just what came with finding a friend like Y/N, he’s starting to think that it could be more. That maybe they could be more.

It is a false hope, however, and one that will only serve to make him bleed, to rob the happiness from his chest whenever Tewkesbury looks over and sees Y/N. They are friends, compatriots, brethren in a war that all young children grown old must face at some point. Never have they been closer, and never has he wished that they could be closer still.

He’s caught staring as they head up the stairs, and he looks away hastily although the damage is done. Y/N laughs at the blush forming on his cheeks. Although Tewkesbury reacts by habit and shoves her with an outstretched, playful arm, he can’t seem to stop his hand from lingering there on her shoulder, fingers reaching as if to pluck some sort of love out of her through willpower alone.

He finds it not, though, and is forced to stay satisfied with smiling to himself and wondering if the rest of his life will be like this, just watching and hoping for a happy ending that may never come his way. Tewkesbury has always wanted something he could never have:  a world outside of family rules, a universe that did not want him controlled, and now, worst of all, a love that should have stayed platonic. It is the cut that aches the most.

The moment is good, though. Y/N has always had this most peculiar skill when it comes to paper crafts, and Tewkesbury regards her now through lowered eyes. Her hands flit around the cut shapes, slicing off delicate corners and creasing folds until a simple note becomes a prancing pony, a soaring bird about to take flight around the room.

Tewkesbury shakes his head after she produces yet another paper marvel. “I don’t know how you do it,” he protests, “Show me, can’t you? Let’s make a flower or something.”

“Flowers have always been your favorite, haven’t they?” Y/N comments. She does as requested, although what are lovely narcissi and tulips in her hands turn into sadly wilted clumps of paper in his.

Tewkesbury just can’t figure out how she does it. Even after that particular day ends, he finds himself sitting in his room surrounded by heaps of useless folds, trying and failing to emulate her easy way with the paper crafts. One would think that Tewkesbury, with his lifetime of knowledge about every facet of flora there is to know, would be able to reproduce his beloved plants in paper form, but here you would be surprised.

Tewkesbury labors for hours, days even, but his progress is slow and totally frustrating. Y/N catches him at it a few times and laughs at him. The sound, so sharp it stings, carves a smile on Tewkesbury’s face even when he’s almost been driven to the point of madness by the infuriatingly unrealistic paper flowers.

He insists that Y/N show him a few more times, of course, but Tewkesbury can’t seem to pick up a single thing. Maybe that’s because he’s not really hearing but looking at his professor. The sunlight clings to her like a child, playing at her hair in ways that only golden beams can get away with in proper society. Despite Y/N’s protests that he really is getting better, Tewkesbury only thinks he’s getting better at one thing and one thing alone:  falling harder for her.

Soon enough, he finds that he cannot go a day, cannot even draw a breath, without thinking about how much he loves Y/N. His room is dizzy and chaotic, the paper flowers piling up in the corners and spilling out of waste paper baskets. Tewkesbury’s hands are nicked by all the paper cuts he’s given himself by accident, and he finds his fingers keep twitching by his sides to run through the familiar folds and patterns as he goes by his days.

At some point, Tewkesbury looks up and realizes that he’s done it, mastered the things. They’re nothing compared to Y/N’s magic with them, of course, but they do the trick for now. An idea comes to him, and Tewkesbury carefully makes one pristine paper flower after another, all the types he knows by heart and some he has to consult in his books, too, just to get the right varieties.

Y/N is surprised when he presents them to her at first, this newsprint bouquet. Her eyes are enchanted and rove up and down the folded petals, the cut stems.

“You did all of this?” She asks, voice tinged with excitement.

Tewkesbury laughs. “You don’t have to seem so surprised. I was bound to get it at some point, you know.”

Y/N flashes him a grin in between her admirations of the paper flowers. “I never doubted you for a second, I swear it.”

He believes her, he always has. How is it that Tewkesbury can see straight through politicians and their lies, but yet find himself stumbling over Y/N’s every word? Every ounce of critical thought leaves his head in a blessed whirlpool the second she smiles at him. It is a problem that Tewkesbury refuses to solve.

A voice calls from behind him; Tewkesbury wasn’t able to stay for long today, only long enough to press the paper bouquet into Y/N’s hands and make her swear to look at it before he’s dashing back to the House of Lords again for the day’s work.

He doesn’t have to stay to make sure she’ll investigate, nor to discover what she finds. Soon enough, Y/N will be glancing over the paper creases and realize that not all of the flowers are made of newsprint. Some are made of notes, notes to her, notes that are at last able to explain all that Tewkesbury couldn’t put into words if he tried.

It’s a story about how a boy fell in love with a girl, how Tewkesbury is so lost on Y/N that he can’t think straight. Unable to help himself, he’s cataloged the flowers he’s made for her; camellias for longing, jasmine for sweet love, goldenrod so he’ll have luck in this, begonias so that even if she doesn’t feel the same way, he can at least thank her for all of the memories they made in the past years.

It might be the bravest thing he’s ever done. In truth, when Tewkesbury steps out of the reaches of Parliament for the day, he doesn’t know what to expect. In all his endless plotting and scheming about how to do this, he was never able to accurately sum up how Y/N might respond.

In the end, she surprises him. Tewkesbury enters the streets of London and there she is, waiting for him with a smile on her face unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Tewkesbury has prided himself on being able to place each one of her smiles in his memory, rank them on how happy she truly is, and this one blows all of the others away.

He walks to her, and they meet in the middle somewhere, both bursting with hopes finally answered.

“I love you too,” she says, “more than anything. More than you love me, I think.”

“Doubtful,” Tewkesbury replies, “I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love more than I love you.”

She laughs. “I look forward to proving you wrong on that point.”

He looks forward to it, too. There are few things in life that can be described as going perfectly, but this, this is it. This is perfection itself, him and her and the glorious world stretching out around them. Nothing could be better.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

enola holmes tag list: empty for now!

[finalgilmoregirl]

thanks for all the love on my last two posts, here’s an idea i thought of the other day that i actually was able to fully flesh out

☆ a growing relationship between fnaf movie!mike x fem!mall worker!reader would include :

- pre fnaf movie events

a/n : i made this in head cannon form to save time but i might make a blurb series. ALSO IMPORTANT : i try to make the reader in my fics as physically non descriptive as possible which means i try to stay away from words like “tall, short, pale, thin” etc… if there is ever an explicit description, it’ll be in the title (like how i put “fem!” or “latina”) okay that being said, enjoy!

- movie takes place in 2000s so naturally reader would work in retail whilst in college (movie!mike is thought to be in his mid-20s so i’m also making reader around that age)

- i think the first interaction between the two would be at her place of work, on a particular slow morning

- he’s only had his security job at the mall for about a week, and his employers had him bouncing around different stores, trying to find his place in the building

- which is how he ended up standing at the front your store at 10am

- he’d spoken to the assistant manager for a moment right before opening but it wasn’t until almost an hour into his shift that he’d noticed you

- he’d just failed to stifle his tenth yawn in the last few minutes when he heard your voice, snapping his brain into high alert

- “excuse me?”

- he turned his head in your direction and widened his eyes a bit before trying to relax

- you were talking to him, and you were beautiful

- “uhm, yeah?” he replied, instantly cursing himself in his mind for not replying more politely

- you obviously didn’t mind his response as you smiled sweetly, reaching an arm out, which is what made mike take notice of the to-go cup in your hand

- “sorry, i just thought you could use this.”

- oh! this surprised the man, and you took notice of the look on his face.

- to be fair this was weird, at least a little bit. you’d never given the other security guards coffee. you were always polite to them of course, but you never went out of your way to try to make an impression ike this.

- but then again, none of the other security guards were this cute

- and you thought mike was very cute

- “i know, it’s a bit weird but i was over there stacking clothes and couldn’t help but notice how tired you seemed.” you pointed to where you were just a moment ago, before you’d gone to the back room to get mike his drink

- mike looked to the area you pointed out, taking notice of the pile of clothes you’d seemed to be in the process of organizing

- mike wanted to hit himself. he was so caught up in his own head and trying to force himself awake that he didn’t even notice that you had been a mere ten feet away this entire time.

- he then looked back at you and realized he hadn’t make a single coherent reply to anything you’d said so far

- he shook his head out of his thoughts and gave you a small smile

- “no no that’s not weird” he said, taking the coffee out of your hands and trying to ignore how soft they felt as his fingertips brushed against them, “that’s really nice of you, thank you.”

- you shrugged, playing with your now free hands while trying to ignore how your heartbeat had started to quicken

- “it’s no big deal, i just thought it’d be best if you were awake in case anyone tried to rob us” you joked, earning a chuckle from mike.

- “i’m y/n by the way” you held out your hand to him

- “i’m mike” he said as he took it, giving it a light shake and reluctantly letting go

- you looked into each others eyes for a moment, and warmth started to circulate your bodies

- unfortunately, the moment was gone too fast as one of your coworkers called you over, asking for your help in taking down some boxes

- you looked back at mike, who still held the smallest smile

- “i guess i’ll see you around.” you shrugged, walking away

- as the day went by and the store got increasingly busier, you and mike failed to have anymore interactions and soon, he had to leave, saddened by the fact that he couldn’t say goodbye but also hopeful at the thought that he might see you again

- it wasn’t until a week later that he did

- he unfortunately got stationed at a kiosk near the entrance of the mall, however that didn’t stop him from walking by your store on his breaks in hopes to catch another glimpse of you

- he did this for three days until this routine paid off.

- you were working the cash register, conversing with a young girl and her mother as you bagged their clothing

- “have a good one!” you smiled brightly at the pair as they walked out of store, which is when you saw mike approach the entrance

- he walked in shyly, hands in his pockets

- he’s wanted to see you… but what did he even plan to say?

- “hey mike!” you called out to the brunette as he walked in

- he responded with his own “hi” as he walked up to the counter

- “what are you doing here?”

- “you know, just…taking a walk”

- he looked down for a moment, nerves creeping up on him. well, he thought. i might as well take advantage of this moment. i mean, you’re right there.

- with a sudden surge of confidence (and despite the sweat now pooling down the back of his neck) he looked back up and said : “i actually just realized.”

- you looked back at him expectedly

- “i never got to repay you for that coffee.”

- when asked if you’d like to cash in that debt you replied a bit faster than you would like to admit, and a date was set for the same day

- where mike had four more hours to go after his break, you had three. which you thought was more than fine, just more time to prepare for this date

- you would meet at the coffee place across from the food court after both of your shifts

- and when you did, it was like something out of a movie

- mike of course, as guarded as he his, tried his best from dumping any trauma on you and steered clear from anything he thought was too personal in fear of scaring you away. however after picking up bits and piece from your life, he had a feeling you wouldn’t judge him

- despite you basically being a stranger, he felt more relaxed than he had in years, him learning about you was enough to distract him from whatever nightmares plagued him at all hours of the day, just for a little while

- as time went on and you both kept in touch after your first date, mike began to open up a bit more

- after the first few weeks he told you about abby, more so about their situation

- you sympathized with him a bit, offering advice if he needed it and a helping hand if any issues with their current babysitter came up

- your selflessness solidified his thought that this could be something good, which led to your first kiss after your fourth date

- you figured it would take a while, you sensed from the first date that he would be a tough book to crack open, but you really liked him and were more than happy to be patient.

- back to abby :

- as much as he was okay with talking to you about abby, he hadn’t planned to tell abby about you. not knowing how she would react to adding a random woman to possibly be a part of her life after their mother

- this of course became a small issue when she began to notice how much more time he spent on the phone

- phone bill be damned, he would still lean against the kitchen wall, twirling the phone cord around his finger for at least half an hour while he talked to you

- “who is it?” abby asked one late afternoon.

- where she was supposed to be in bed already, she came out to get a glass of water, catching her brother talking in a hushed voice.

- “don’t worry about it” mike would tell her.

- “what are they saying?”

- “abby can you please just go to your room”

- she would very soon find out about your existence when one evening mike put the phone down for a second to go look for a book he wanted to tell you about

- as soon as he walked out of the room, abby jumped from her place on the couch and snuck to the phone

- “hello?” she whispered, cupping her hand over the transmitter

- “hi” you smiled, picturing the young girl that mike had described to you before

- “who is this?” abby asked, almost aggressively, confused as to why her brother has been talking to a woman

- “i’m y/n” you told her, trying to suppress a laugh

- something clicked in the child then

- gasp “are you mikes girlfriend??”

- it was just then that mike had returned, and with a face of anger and horror her snatched the device from abby’s grasp and lightly shoved her away with a light scolding “abby what the hell did i say?”

- you laughed harder at his tone

- “i am so sorry about that. what did she say to you?”

- “oh nothing” you sighed, “she just asked me if i was your girlfriend.”

- he mouthed a god dammit as he looked to the ceiling

- he wasn’t embarrassed that abby had asked, he was embarrassed that he hadn’t asked you yet

- there’s no protocol to dating as an adult. “will you be my girlfriend?” sounds too childish and when that’s out of the question, where do you go from there?

- “well…” mike shut his eyes tightly as he asked, “what did you say?”

- “i didn’t get to answer. what do you think i should have said?” you said, lighthearted but pointedly.

- swallowing the bile he felt creeping up his throat at the nerves he rubbed his hand to his sweater clad chest

- “i mean…” you continued. “do you want me to be?”

- my god yes he desperately thought but tried his best to sound casual “yeah, i’d like that”

- “well then, i suppose i am your girlfriend. maybe i can actually tell her next time”

- he sensed the teasing in your voice and gave a mixed of a chuckle and a sigh at your answer, the weight the nerves left on his chest lifted.

- “next time” he said softly, “sounds good”

☆ might start planning a part two

[nexusnyx]

heyyy. so what if reader and joel got in a really big argument because he wasn’t being safe and putting his life on the line and that pissed her off. so joel gets on a horse, and rides off into the sunset in true cowboy fashion. when she’s on a supply run with some of the other people from tommy’s town, they find joel, injured and hiding out in a barn. she didn’t recognize him at first, and pointed her gun at him but when he’s like “it’s me.” she’s all like “for fuck’s sake, joel. i almost shot you.” “someone already did.” and yeah feel free to take that anywhere u want <3

that's such a cinematic idea!! you've got a good imagination, Sof. thanks for the request. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, mentions of past attempted suicide, hurt/comfort, fluff. [WC: 1.7k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ foolish ꒱

All of his recklessness had a direction. A purpose.

Joel had no reason to tend to his own life with careful hands. Not when those same hands had inflicted so much damage already. When they'd caused so much destruction. He knew how to direct his anger and reckless behavior well—to protect, evade, survive.

All of that kept him away from building any kind of real relations, but that goes up in flames after Ellie. And then it really disappears after you.

Joel's scared again. He panics. He cares, and he talks about himself, and he lets spill out secrets he never once spoke about.

He's just not ready for what comes after they're out in the open.

“I just can’t concentrate if I’m worried about you going in with your knuckles and elbows to someone’s fucking face instead of at least trying to keep it cool. y’know? I don’t know. Call me crazy, Joel. I thought you could control yourself.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That just ain’t fair. Was I supposed to do nothin’?”

“Yes! Exactly. If you’d given me at least one second—”

“He asked if you up for offer. I should’ve fuckin’ killed, him.”

“Joel, he could’ve asked ‘if the little bitch worth a quarter or 10 bucks’ and I couldn’t give less of a shit—”

“You—I swear to god.”

“He’s an animal! And a fucking idiot. But he was the idiotic animal with the goddamn information. Which we needed. And now we don’t have, ‘cause he and his buddies have ran back to wherever the hell they’re hiding and we’re never gonna see them again. And they had the real deal—they had medicine we need that are lacking in the stock.”

“I know. I know. Fuckin’ hell, I know.”

“... you know I’d help you do anything you wanted, right? I don’t care about what they say. And I’d wanna kill anyone who disrespected you like that, too, but we gotta be at least smart before we’re emotional.”

“...Tommy’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I’ll talk to him. Make something up.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know. But I’m gonna.”

“...thank you. … I really am sorry, ‘kay? I’m still gettin’ used to—I just. I saw red.”

“And I get that.”

“...you really do, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Remember how I acted at that river trade? Because of what that man said about you?”

“Couldn’t forget it if someone blew my brains away. … You’re a lil’ crazy, baby, y’know that?”

“Coming from you, Miller. That’s rich.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda beautiful. You’re like—a force o’nature, or somethin’. Fuck, I’m sorry—I’m drunk—but listen. I won’t fuck up again.”

“I know you’ve got my back. I just want you to have yours, too. I worry about you and how you dive head first into dangerous shit ‘cause when it comes to you, you don’t think.”

“... had no reason to, ‘till recently.”

“Well, now you do. Should’ve always had, but now you really do ‘cause there are people, like Ellie, like Tommy, like me, who are gonna be pretty pissed off if you’re stabbed again anytime soon. Don’t make me go feral and have to kill a fucker ‘cause you know me by now. I have the whole thing where I have to bury the bodies I’m responsible for and, honestly—have pity on my back’s sake, Joel. I don’t got the back for that shit anymore.”

“You’re so—can’t believe your fuckin’ jokes sometimes.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m crazy too, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“‘don’t got the back for it’. You’re—You know, I never thought I’d be this happy I didn’t blow my brains out. Last time I thought that Ellie was standin’ on top of a fuckin’ dinosaur and—”

Joel shivered.

You found him as you were searching a barn on a supply run with Tommy, the day after he ran away on Shimmer’s back.

A stom had followed his departure, not minutes later, and he was still out of the gates when the time to close them came by, which meant he’d been locked out. Tommy was the one to give the ‘ok’ for the gatekeepers to shut them down, his face twisted into a painful twist and an apologetic look sent your way, but it was also Tommy who nodded his agreement to go with you when you announced you were going out the very next morning despite the horrible weather and the feet of snow making everything ten times harder.

It was obvious to you he couldn’t have gone far.

When you find him, Joel speaks up first. “It’s me.” He somehow heard you coming before you saw him.

Of course he did. It’s Joel.

The voice still makes you flinch—Joel was kneeling on the ground with his thickest jacket wrapped around him and his knees pulled up, and—”Jesus Christ, Joel. I almost fuckin’ shot you.”

As you’re lowering your gun, he goes. “It’s happened before.”

It’s such an oddly-timed joke that it halts your steps toward him, but then, his eyes find yours and it happens, just like always. You two share a private, ‘this is a fucked up joke, but we find it funny either way’ laugh. The same one that bonded you two.

You kneel beside him, taking out the blanket you brought in your backpack exactly for this, and wrap it around his shoulders, rubbing him up and down on his arms and his back.

When you’re satisfied with your job — he quit shivering — you finally make eye contact.

“You got stuck because of the storm, right?” your question comes out in a whisper, and your breath fogs up the air between the both of you.

You didn’t run away, right?

Joel takes a deep breath, and nods. His eyes close for a moment before he leans in slowly until his forehead is touching yours.

“Told you I wouldn’t do that.” Joel said those words a couple of months ago, and you still had trouble wrapping your head around them. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I like it here. With you.

“‘kay.” Your lips search his in the dark and find them waiting for the kiss already. With your hands still on his shoulders, you can feel a lot of tension dissipating when you sigh into the kiss, and Joel seems to fully come back to his body. You pull away against your will, and take a few seconds before you’re able to open your eyes.

His warmth always spreads through you like an oven slowly heating up.

“‘m sorry if I scared you.”

It’s inevitable—a smile blossoms in your face, and you start laughing.

“What?” Joel asks, confused and serving the biggest doe eyes in your direction.

For someone who punched first and asked questions later, a night stuck with the howling story winds made quick work of reminding him he was cared for. “Nothing.” I love you. “You did scare me. I spent all night thinking about whether you were okay or not.” The doe eyes seem to glisten with the soft light, and it pulls you in to seal your lips on his again. “But it’s ok. I just wanna go now and run you a hot bath and massage… all of your body. Is that ok? Can I do that?”

Joel’s eyes said I’ve never felt more vulnerable and that’s going to be a lot, but it also said it’s exactly what I need and I don’t know how to say that out loud. From his lips, it came out, “I… yeah. Yeah, ya can. I wanna… Wash your hair. And—you. ‘s that weird?”

“It’s not.”

“I like that smile on you. ‘s my favorite.”

“I am so happy I left Tommy behind.” Joel laughs at that, and he makes a move to get up. “I’m serious. We’d never hear the end of this.”He gets up with your help, and you two can walk side by side, leaning on each other and not speak of the storm that passed and carried more than just heavy snow all around. The things that are rising and growing between you are deep-rooted somewhere—nothing seems to shake you and Joel away. Only closer together. Tighter. Realer.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup

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[licncourt]

Is there a specific way to read the vampire chronicles or some books you should skip (I’ve just heard that some aren’t that good but like I’m up for anything)? And what books are focused on Louis and Lestat?

Okay I hope you weren't looking for a short answer to this because there isn't one 😭 Rather than just give my uncontextualized opinion, I'm going to try to explain what makes some (most) of VC so unbelievably terrible in so many people's eyes. There are going to be spoilers for pretty much all the books, but most of it is either incredibly stupid or information that you might want relating to content warnings. I'll list what applies to each book as I go.

I'm assuming you're here from my VC primer post, but if not, I'll link it right here! It gives a bit more detail on my short answer to your main question which is: if you value your sanity, only read the first three. Also a note to read the post I linked at the bottom of it about Anne Rice for context. It will help with understanding the tone this post takes re: the author.

To quickly answer your second question, I am sad to report that Interview with the Vampire is the only book focused on Loustat because after that Anne Rice decided that she hated Louis. Their relationship is on and off in the (very, VERY distant) background until they finally get together permanently towards the end of the series, but it's never the focal point again. She just kept us all on the hook by having one absolutely brain chemistry altering ship moment in a majority of the books (my compilation of those moments here).

Okay, on to specifics:

Interview with the Vampire: a literary classic with incredible character building. I'm assuming we can all agree that IWTV is fantastic and anyone who is reading this because of the show is probably already sold on it. If that's where you're coming from, you might be a bit disappointed by how unsympathetic Lestat can be, but that'll be remedied(ish) later. Lestat is the main character in the series going forward. Enjoy this Louis content because this is pretty much the end of it.

CW: keep in mind that the beginning of the book takes place on a plantation with all that entails; there are some occasional pedophilic and incestuous undertones, but nothing out of place with Gothic horror (it gets so much worse); domestic violence

The Vampire Lestat: this is widely considered to be excellent popular fiction rather than something as elevated as IWTV, but it's a 5-star read according to most fans. Lestat is such a vibrant, exciting character and so much more than the charismatic villain he was in IWTV (the AMC show incorporates a lot of his characterization from this book, as IWTV was originally a stand-alone novel without any real idea of what Lestat would become).

Aside from a (delightful) cameo at the end of the book, Louis is now in Anne Rice Jail and will not be allowed to do anything for the next nine books except be tortured once like a bug for no reason.

CW: a non-consensual turning that is directly analogous to sexual assault; descriptions of child abuse; Lestat, unfortunately, tongue kisses his mom

Queen of the Damned: this is the last book that most fans like. I personally consider it a step down from the first two, but I strongly prefer intimate, character driven stories and QotD is very plotty. It's a fun book, but some cracks start to show in AR's writing that will become a big problem later. Still, it's enjoyable and the ending is very satisfying for the story arc and for the characters. It also contains a fan favorite chapter that follows Daniel, the interviewer, and his insane romance with the vampire Armand.

If you want to be a happy person, turn back now.

CW: non-con blood drinking/vampiric SA; casual racism and pro-imperialism

***CATEGORY 5 EVENT: ANNE RICE FIRES HER EDITOR PERMANENTLY***

The Tale of the Body Thief: this is considered by most fans (obligatory not ALL) to be the worst book in the series simply for how the subject matter is handled. This is the beginning of AR transforming Lestat into something very existentially disturbing without even meaning to. The sympathetic, charming, evil-but-not-really theater kid Lestat is gone without a trace in a way that could be a very insightful look at the aftermath of trauma but is instead deeply insensitive and really upsetting.

Lestat from here on out becomes a hypermasculine caricature that can do no wrong according to the narrative and this has some pretty awful results. There are a few funny moments (like Lestat describing the sensation of peeing for two full pages) and a very cute arc where he adopts a dog, but he also commits two explicit rapes and emotionally abuses/threatens Louis on several occasions with the authorial justification that "men can't help themselves", abuse victims have it coming for setting boundaries, and people who have suffered abuse become abusers. This will be a recurring theme going forward.

Not related to Lestat, but also an Indian man is killed and has his body stolen and inhabited by a white British man in what would be a great metaphor for colonialism if the author thought that was a bad thing.

I am on the last chapter of a 140,000 word fic that I wrote just because I hate TotBT so much and wanted to create a world where it doesn't have to exist. It's one of the most popular VC fics on ao3, and that's not a testament to my writing ability, but rather to how much people hate this book.

CW: graphic SA; domestic violence; insensitivity to the point of racism; the author thinking these things are okay

Memnoch the Devil: not much to say about this. It's AR's ripoff of Dante's Inferno. Lestat meets the devil, goes to hell, drinks the blood of Jesus Christ, loses an eye, vacuum sucks period blood out of a woman's uterus and pad, and then falls into a five year semi-coma on a church floor. Somehow it's still boring. Best I can say is that the Lestat characterization is a bit less heinous than it is in the previous book.

CW: not much here unless you have an issue with period blood guzzling

The Vampire Armand: truly a notorious book in the series, beloved by some, hated by many. There's some good backstory for the character Armand (he first appears in IWTV, likely in season two of the show) and some fun historical fiction, however. Armand begins his story as a twelve year old human child who is rescued from sex slavery by an ancient vampire, Marius (he was namedropped in AMC ep 2).

Over the course of the book, he's physically, mentally, sexually abused by Marius, his teacher and father figure who is, like David, presented as a wise and moral authorit figure. In addition, Armand carries on a sexual relationship with an adult man as a minor. The sex is graphic (it's erotica) and it's really the peak of the pedophilia in VC. Keep in mind that this is coming from an author who publicly defended a child predator and thought that 14 year old kids could consent and should be allowed to have sex with adults.

Of all the later books, this one is the most widely enjoyed because Marius/Armand is a fairly popular ship.

CW: CSA/grooming; statutory rape; explicit adult/minor content; child abuse; cult abuse

Merrick: evil, evil book. AR's giant fuck you to Louis and anyone who likes his character. Lestat is in his devil coma for most of this book, so it's narrated by his newest fledgling and rape victim, David (who I and most others despise. This is the white guy who has an Indian body now). By this point, AR had openly admitted that she didn't like Louis, and she kind of spends this book tormenting and mocking him for no reason.

The titular Merrick (a mixed-race witch drowned in awful racial connotations) mind controls Louis with magic, then forces him to turn her (again, AR has confirmed that this is vampire rape) and be in a relationship. After this, she conjures a "ghost" that may or may not be Louis and Lestat’s dead daughter who tells Louis she always hated him and blamed him for her death. Completely overcome by grief, without Lestat (coma), and having been raped, Louis attempts suicide.

This event and all his mental health issues up to this point are framed by David as being stupid and weak, the sign of a lesser person who should just go and die because they deserve it. It is worth mentioning yet again that David is framed as being in the right and AR had expressed these opinions herself in the past (ie that mental illness is just weakness and you should be able to get over it).

Another fun thing is that Merrick was groomed by David as a child and he spends most of the book wanting her back and also admitting to other acts of pedophilia. So that's fun and great for a character who's supposed to be a voice of reason and moral center.

0/10, despise this book.

CW: sexual assault; grooming; attempted suicide

Blood & Gold: this is Marius' backstory. It is a completely pointless book because we've already heard it twice by this point in the series (and if you read the companion book Pandora, you'll hear it again). The whole thing reads like a Wikipedia page about ancient Rome. Read it if you want I guess.

CW: Marius

Blackwood Farm: this book had...potential? None of that was ever achieved, but I'll at least say that the concept could be worse. Lestat acquires his FIFTH brunette sadboi love interest of the series in this book, so that's kind of funny. Overall though, any positive qualities are overshadowed by weird prose, a really transphobic caricature, and the fact that the main character has shower sex with the ghost of his dead twin brother

CW: transphobia; sibling incest

Blood Canticle: Miss Rice decided to. Get creative with this book. It is a fandom joke. It is the worst prose in existence. It is a literary manic episode. It is truly indescribable. I'm just going to leave this excerpt from ch 1 here and let you imagine an entire book of this

Yes, chapter one is Anne Rice using Lestat as a proxy to berate her readers for not liking Memnoch the Devil. It's also important to me that you know Lestat calls himself "omnisensual" in this book, tries to become a saint, and tells a woman to put some clothes on because men can't control themselves. The word "chuckle" is also written out in the prose in italics like this is ff.net in 2010. The best thing that came of this book is the famous AR Amazon reviews rant (now a beloved VC fandom copypasta). Please read it. It's transcendent.

CW: psychologically devastating prose

Prince Lestat: this is AR's comeback book, published 12 years after Blood Canticle. It's an improvement, but it's still terrible and very, VERY dumb. Lestat has completed his transformation into a macho man male power fantasy for AR and we end with the establishment of a vampire monarchy with Lestat in charge because he slurped and then puked up the brains of the vampire who had the Special Vampire Essence.

Mostly this was an excuse for AR to kill off a bunch of her weird NPCs that she didn't know what to do with. The good news is we get a very cute, official Loustat love confession and for the first time since the first book in the entire series, we get a chapter that's Louis' POV!! It's like 7 pages long but it's the best we're ever going to get.

Other fun thing that happens: Lestat is hooked up to a hormone IV that allows him to fuck (book vampires can't) and the resident scientist vampire steals his cum and creates a petri dish clone of Lestat that is raised in secret for 18 years before being given to Lestat as his son. No, I'm not joking.

CW: uh, brain eating? Insanely unethical human experimentation?

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis: batshit crazy book. Truly bonkers. There are aliens, Atlantis is real, Lestat has a sentient brain parasite that controls all vampires and talks to him in his mind like the PS5, vampire brain surgery occurs, a choir of child vampires is there, an alien named Derek breastfeeds a disembodied hand until it grows into his clone named Derek Two, and so much more.

The one positive is that after decades of harassment, AR finally lets Louis be a main character again. By this point he has been completely stripped of his personality (I call it the Louis Lobotomy) and exists solely as Lestat's sexy lamp, but whatever. He's there and they're cute together. How they managed to become a healthy, functional couple overnight after two hundred years of drama is never explained.

Lestat makes out with his rapist and talks about how he was asking for it in a particularly nauseating scene, but otherwise it's pretty tame trigger-wise

CW: rape apologia/victim blaming

Blood Communion: we are finally being put out of our misery. The end of the series. This is such a boring book and Lestat’s characterization is completely nonsensical by now. Several main characters are presumed dead for a while and by this point you don't even care. Not even the other characters in the book seem to care. Its only use is to get that sweet sweet Loustat happy ending.

CW: temporary character death

-

Alright, that was a lot of shit-talking a book series I literally run a fandom blog and write hundreds of thousands of words of fic for, but the truth is, fans are here for the characters as they were originally created. The first three books are wonderful, the first two completely masterful and case studies in how character building should be done. There's a reason they've been read and analyzed and fawned over for forty years. What happened to the series is heartbreaking, but it doesn't negate the impact of how it started.

AR may have started spelling her own characters' names wrong and writing a baffling combination of disgusting hot takes and total absurdity, but she created something special in the beginning and I'll always love it and be grateful for what it once was.

I hope that was helpful!

[archivistofnerddom]

Okay, but the idea of Omega having a high enough M-count that she could be vaguely Force sensitive got my brain churning.

Look, I’m not saying that she’ll necessarily be a Jedi with her M-count. I’m currently operating with the idea that she has enough of a count that she has low-level soft skills that don’t make her obviously a Jedi/Force wielded, but enough that she’s more in tune with the Force than the average person. It’s basically developing out qualities and abilities we’ve seen from her before. Things like:

Being able to read people well and using the info she gets from them. (Her figuring out who Cid was, building trust with Crosshair on Tantiss, etc.)

Being good with strategy. (See hustling at Cid’s bar to pay off the Batch’s debt to her in season 1, even as a pre-teen/early teenager with (at the time) limited exposure to the galaxy at large.)

Keeping up with the meditation techniques she learned from Gungi (to the point where she’s able to talk Crosshair through them).

Her inherent empathy, kindness, and desire to help anyone who needs it. (Hera, Gungi, Crosshair and the rest of her fellow clones, Batcher, etc.)

Maybe she’s not a Jedi, but Omega definitely has certain abilities that a low-level Force sensitivity could easily enhance.

Which leads me to my idea.

An adult Omega crosses paths with Din Djarin and Grogu and offers to share her knowledge with the kiddo. She can operate on the same level as Din. She has also been on the receiving end of having an overprotective parent(al figure), despite you actually being older than said parent(al figure). Omega could easily provide a path forward to Din about focusing Grogu’s Force abilities into something outside the Jedi and that is more aligned with how Din and Grogu live their lives.

I don’t know how long it would take for Din and Omega to reach a happy friendship medium, but they’d get there. She definitely gets taking care of your strange family while also making your way in the galaxy at large. With her own skills, Omega would certainly be a good ally and friend to the Clan of Two.

Plus, it’d be fun to see her stumble into “Crap, I’m looking after/training a precocious “child” who likes to do their own thing” territory. After all, in Star Wars, history often rhymes.

And, given that Din and Boba are on good terms, it’s not a huge logic leap that Omega tags along when Din and Grogu drop by Tatooine. (Peli is a much nicer sketchy aunt to Grogu than Cid was to Omega. Omega would love her.) But back to my main point. Can you imagine how chaotic it’d be to have Boba, Fennec, Omega, Din, and Grogu (and possibly Peli, if she’s on babysitting duty) in the same place at the same time? Yes, I want to see that happen.

Now imagine how nuts it would be to see Omega introduce Bad Batch tactics to the above-mentioned group? Fennec is (currently) the only one of that group with exposure to such things, and I think she would enjoy watching the chaos unfold.

Psst, Disney, make this happen! It’d be great.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Eternal Sunshine

hongjoong x reader

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind au except i tweaked... a lot

genre and warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive, cursing, violence warning

word count: 23k

synopsis: you and hongjoong meet on the train and instantly connect, going from friends to more. however, you're both plagued by a past that you do not remember, and when you both start to dig into it, you realise that your pasts may be connected and the situation might be graver than you thought.

Your plan to sleep the entire train ride that was about to be 6 hours, travelling from one corner of Wonderland to the other, was failing miserably.

Firstly, it was daytime. Your sleep schedule might be staying up late at night and sleeping for most part of the day but for some reason, it was a hit and miss whenever you were travelling. That meant that if you dozed off the second a journey would start, you would stay asleep for almost the whole part of it. But if you didn’t fall asleep as soon as it started, you would have trouble trying to sleep. And trouble looked like resting your head against the window or any closest surface with eyes shut but brain wide awake.

You could hear the kid whining about not bringing enough snacks for the journey all the way from the end of the cabin. You were sure he wasn’t very loud but you still wanted to go and say something to shut him up. You could also hear the old couple in the back talk about their kids. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they weren’t being quiet so it wasn’t entirely your fault. You could also hear the constant thrum of the train whooshing on its track, and if you opened your eyes and looked outside, you would see the buildings as a blur. 

The only good part about this whole journey was that most of the seats were empty which meant you had quite some space for yourself. Your front seats were empty so you were resting your feet on them. Your arms were folded and your overcoat was keeping you warm. Your pastel pink muffler was bundled in your lap. The coffee you had brought from home had long gone cold in the tumbler. You sighed to yourself- not the best start to the day, but once you would reach Sector 1, you might feel better. 

You had no idea how long it had passed when you were woken by a tap to your shoulder- woken from your almost-falling-asleep stage. It made you jerk before you blinked to see who dared disturb.

“I’m sorry, is this yours?” the man asked, your huge black headphones with cat paws on its ears in his hand. 

“Ah, must have rolled off from my… bag,” you grimaced at the sight of your tote bag upside down on the floor, a few things having rolled out that the man was already placing on the table with a faint smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s alright. I was dozing myself there-” he pointed at the seats next to you at the other corner, “when something bumped my feet.”

“Gosh, I’m a mess,” you finished placing everything in your bag, zipping the bag as you pointedly looked at the man who laughed. You took a second to scan him- he had quite memorable features and appearance. Half bleached hair, glasses that were probably an accessory, pointed features but warmth radiating from his rather cute smile. “Sorry to wake you up, Cruella.”

“I get that a lot,” he grinned, extending his hand. “I’m Hongjoong.”

“Y/n,” you shook his hand, and he pointed to the seat in front of you and you nodded to tell him he was welcome to sit and chat. “Where are you travelling to?”

“Sector 1. You?”

“Same place. You live there?”

“Yep. I was staying a few months at my friend's house in Sector 8, for work.”

“That’s crazy because same,” you laughed. “Glad to be going back home though.”

“Yep,” he nodded. “You look familiar for some reason. Might have come across you either there or back home.”

“You look familiar too, for some strange reason, but I’m sure I would have remembered you,” you pointed at his hair. “I kind of love it.”

“Ah, really?” He touched his hair, laughing nervously and you thought it was cute. “I tend to try different things.”

“I’ve had the same hair since I was born,” you rolled your eyes. “I might go ahead and do something funky one of these days too. And then I would call you my muse.”

“That’d be cool,” he grinned. “So what do you do for work?”

You offered him a chocolate from your bag, taking one for yourself and looking outside- it was almost evening. The train would be taking a break at Sector 4 soon and you wanted to get something warm. “I’m a literary editor for a company. You?”

“Music producer,” he told you and you wowed at that. “It’s not as great as it sounds. When it’s a hobby, it’s all fun and games, but when it becomes work, it can give you a hard time.”

“I relate to that. I used to be a writer until it became too much and I stopped,” you said and he raised a brow but didn’t probe further. He could tell there was a story behind it. “It’s fun when you do something you like for work, even though sometimes it could give you a hard time.”

“That’s true. I noticed your headphones though, and I couldn’t help but wonder if you’re interested in music?”

You couldn’t tell why you could connect to Hongjoong instantly but there was just something about the way he talked that kept you engaged, listening to his every word and then answering more than you would have with any other random stranger. You weren’t one to talk to strangers in the first place- but something about him was so utterly genuine that you found yourself chatting with him for half an hour until you stopped at Sector 4 for an hour-long break. Hongjoong offered you to grab some tea with him and you couldn’t refuse.

“It’s freezing,” you wrapped your muffler around your face like a mummy, leaving only space for the eyes, making Hongjoong laugh- another thing about him that was endearing. He mirrored your action and like mummies, you two walked to the nearest shop to get something warm to hold and drink. 

As you sat next to each other on the stools looking out of the window and checking your phones, finally having unwrapped yourselves, you asked him if he was looking forward to finally being home. He passed you a tight-lipped smile, taking a sip before replying.

“I needed to be away from home. I know that for me my home is the most comfortable place in the world, but I don’t know. I somehow needed to get away from there.”

You nodded- you weren’t sure you could relate entirely but you could understand. “It’s like that with people too. Sometimes you want to run away from them even if they mean the whole world to you.”

Hongjoong looked at you. “I guess so. Have you ever had that point in life?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I tend to be the type of person who doesn’t let anyone mean ‘the whole world’ to me anyway.”

Hongjoong unexpectedly laughed at that, making you wonder what was so funny even though you joined. “You must be a hard nut to crack. You don’t give off that vibe.”

“Really? I need to strengthen my defences then- do I seem like an open book to you?” You asked, making him laugh and shake his head again.

“Not an open book but not someone I realised might not be who they seem to be,” he explained and you made an impressed face. “That means you’re doing fine.”

You forgot how you were going to retort when something caught your eye and you turned to look outside the window, realising it was-

“Snowing. It’s snowing!” You grinned, taking his hand and dragging him outside despite his protests, and you two were a laughing mess when you were finally under the snowflakes.

“Aren’t you the one who was just freezing to death moments ago!” Hongjoong laughed, not bothering to dust off the snowflakes anymore and finishing his coffee.

“I do like it when it snows though,” you grinned.

Hongjoong shook his head, taking your cup as well to throw it in the bin and when he came back, he scoffed at the sight of you- trying to hide under the tree to avoid snowflakes on your uncovered face. He stood beside you, watching the ground turn whiter with each passing second. When he looked at you again, there was a snowflake on your cheek and before he knew it, he was brushing it off with his thumb, earning a short but surprised gasp from you, which made him go someplace else entirely before he smiled casually.

“We should go inside.”

Once inside, you two resumed chatting about casual stuff, not trying to get personal, but at some point you fell asleep and Hongjoong watched you with a smile before resting his head on the window and falling asleep across from you. Before you knew it, you had reached Sector 1 and you both were gathering your things. 

“I hope to see you again somewhere around,” you said. “It’s a small town. We’ll probably run into each other sooner than we’d expect.”

“I don’t really go outside often, so let’s see,” Hongjoong pouted. “Are we not exchanging phone numbers?”

You smiled faintly at that, wanting to exchange contact information so bad but… there was a side to you he didn’t know about. “Tell you what- the next time we run into each other, we’ll share our numbers first. But for that,” you leaned in a little as if to whisper a secret. “You’ll have to come outside more often.”

Hongjoong shook his head in amusement. “If you catch me standing in the corner of a street looking like a lost kid, you should know it’s because I was waiting for you.”

“Oh, I have a feeling we’ll run into each other before we get to that point,” you winked, spotting your tall friend behind him and extending your hand to Hongjoong. “It was really nice to meet you, Kim Hongjoong. Until we meet again.”

“No wonder you’re a writer,” he scoffed. “Until we meet again… y/n.”

—----------------------------

“Yunho, if you ‘accidentally’ kick my leg one more time, I’m going to break all your toes-”

Yunho choked on his drink, laughing. “This is a small table, and I need space for my legs!”

“Well, you’re the one who brought me here!” You sighed. “Let me just-” You turned your legs against the wall, letting him have the rest of the space to himself. “We good?”

“We’re great,” he grinned mischievously. “Now can you stop whining about every minor inconvenience and tell me how the past six months were at Sector 8?”

You sighed, slumping down further as you sipped on the chocolate milkshake. “It was fine. I’m doing better at work. I just still feel like there’s a spark in me that’s missing. Maybe the creative soul in me has… died, you know?”

“You just need a muse,” he told you as if he had the right answer. “And if you look closer, you might find it right in front of your face-”

“A muse, huh?” Your mind went elsewhere, though, to a person that resembled a certain fictional character. “I haven’t written a book in two years. I’m glad I chose to be anonymous because I don’t think I could have handled the pressure from my fans if they knew who I really was.”

“Fans should know when to give their favourite writers time and space,” he said but you knew he felt sorry too. “I think you should just be glad you didn’t leave a project unfinished or left in the middle of writing a series.”

“Yeah, that’s a big relief,” you nodded enthusiastically, shivering at the prospect of having done any of the two. “I can even say I’m officially retired and have no regrets. Well, not exactly no regrets but at least I’ll be satisfied.”

“Totally, though I wish you could give us one final piece if you do wish to retire,” Yunho made puppy eyes and you glared at him but smiled. He was your best friend but also your biggest fan. 

“How’s your new roommate? What was his name again?”

“Seonghwa- he’s really good. Mingi and I are adjusting well with him,” he told you and went into the details about how Seonghwa was working in the music industry and had the kindest soul. “He’s also kinda hot so I think you should really come over sometimes because I can’t hear you whine about how lonely you are anymore-”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoffed. “One girl breaks your heart and you swear off relationships. It’s a wonder you didn’t kick me out of your circle.”

Yunho sighed deeply. “At least I don’t complain about being lonely, y/n.”

He was right- it was usually you, and since during the last six months you and Yunho only talked through text or calls, he heard it more. Life in Sector 8 wasn’t full of parties and all. It was just being holed up in your room, occasionally being dragged by one of your friends there to the outside world for lunch or dinner. Other than that, you focused on work. It was an opportunity you didn’t want to miss and if that meant being away from home for half a year, you didn’t care.

Especially when you were pretty sure you were going to go crazy.

As if Yunho knew exactly what was going on in your head, he asked, “You still have those daydreams?”

“They’ve turned into dreams,” you looked at him. “It feels like another life, Yunho. And I know I could write about it, but I don’t think I can.”

“You should stop being scared of what’s inside your head,” he said. “I don’t get what you’re so afraid of.”

“I don’t get it either,” you muttered.

On the way back home, you took your time, taking the longer route to your apartment, just wanting to roam around your hometown and soak in everything and see what had changed. No matter how much it changed, you realised, it would still feel like home every time. Safe, but you found yourself looking over your shoulder a few times. Warm, but you would suddenly feel chills. The weather was pleasant though and you were enjoying yourself, kind of glad it wasn’t snowing yet.

Your mind immediately went back to Hongjoong. You wondered where he was and if you were ever going to run into him again. You were pretty sure you would, but the reason why you didn’t take his phone number that day was something you needed time for.

Your daydreams- they were like flashes of an alternate life. In that life, you looked the same. You went to the same places, but you were with someone else- someone with hair the most pretty shade of blue. You didn’t remember what he looked like, nor did you recall how he sounded. But you were happy and you were loved. Those feelings were sometimes so intense that you would feel as if a part of you had been snatched from you.

Before you moved away for work, you were plagued by those daydreams. You didn’t recall when they started coming, but by the time you noticed, you realised that they were distracting you from life. You started writing, wondering if it was just another prompt or idea you needed to get out of your head but that didn’t work- they were out of control. And when you stopped writing and started working, it plagued your nights. 

You took the job for Sector 8 wondering if you needed to be away from your home, your hometown, to get away from the memories of someone that was you- that was what it felt like. Memories- or maybe they hadn’t even happened yet. 

Or maybe you were becoming delusional, way too much into fantasising about what could have been. But the whole year you spent telling yourself that you had read and written way too much fiction and needed to get back to real life and stop imagining things, that night at the train with Hongjoong made you wonder if you were wrong about yourself.

It wasn’t anything he did. It’s just that when you fell asleep, you had a dream about the blue-haired guy after a long time. And in that dream, you were thrumming along to a beat you were listening to.

“You like that?” The blue-haired guy asked. You tried looking at him, but it was like you couldn’t see him. You did not know whether he was older or younger than you. You did not know what he looked like, other than the unique hair. 

“You’re so good at this,” you replied, squeezing his hands and noticing a detail you hadn’t seen before- a single nail painted blue. 

When you woke up, you wondered where you had seen that. And when Hongjoong extended his hand to say goodbye, you noticed it. The same pinky finger, but painted black. How many people have you met who painted only their pinky finger? 

You were fearing that the lines between your dreams and reality were becoming blurry, which is why you left in the first place. It didn’t help that Hongjoong popped out of nowhere with an all too familiar vibe. Perhaps you dreamt about the painted pinky finger because of Hongjoong. Perhaps your blue haired guy never even touched nail paint- if he existed in the first place.

You stepped inside your apartment, dropping your bag on the couch and going to wash your face, cleaning up and changing before coming to your room and stopping in front of your wall with the softboard- the one where you chalked ideas, put polaroids of your memories, finding a lot of picture with Yunho and Mingi. And then you stared at the pattern of these photos- there was none. 

That’s what bugged you. You were eerily meticulous with how you arranged every part of your room. How you arranged your notes, the photos on your wall, your stationery, everything. And one strange day, you woke up and nothing in your room made sense to you. It was as if you had been placed into someplace foreign, even though it was your home. 

And that’s when the daydreams started. You searched the internet when it got worse but found nothing relevant. You gave up but didn’t change anything in your ‘new’ room, hoping it would one day rock your memory- if there was something in your memory in the first place. 

You pulled the covers over yourself, pushing away the thoughts and welcoming sleep after a long day.

—---------------------

You did not expect to run into Hongjoong so soon.

You were expecting at least a month to pass before you would stumble upon him somewhere- probably shopping for groceries if he lived in your area, or maybe at a cafe or a restaurant, maybe at a club. But certainly not in the middle of the night when you rushed out of your home to take a breather.

You were speed-walking to the park, thinking about the dream you just had. The blue-haired boy holding you so close- you could still feel the warmth of his touch on your arms. His voice- sometimes sounding familiar, sometimes sounding alien. But what really did it for you tonight was an all too familiar place- you had only been there once. The book-cafe in Sector 7. You had only been to Sector 7 once, and you recalled that you were not alone, however, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t remember just who had accompanied you. But you had definitely been there- it was not a dream or a daydream. You could remember the layout of that place, the books you read there. You even found one of your books there and had a good laugh about it- with who?

You were thinking just that when you spotted your Cruella, dressed in all black, sitting on a bench with headphones on, staring into the distance- as if he, too, was trying to recall something but couldn’t. You smiled, forgetting all about the dream and instead taking a detour to sneak up on him from behind and sit beside him like a stranger would. He glanced at you and went back to staring into the distance and you watched recognition click on his face before he shifted his full attention towards you.

“I can’t believe this,” Hongjoong laughed, taking off his headphones. “What were the chances?”

“Is meeting in the middle of the night our thing now?” You shook his hand, scoffing. 

“Maybe it is,” he winked. “Do you live in this area?”

“Actually, yes. Block F,” you told him and he nodded.

“Block K,” he told you and you nodded- it wasn’t very far but it wasn’t close either. “How does it feel to be back home?”

“Strange but welcoming,” you shrugged. “How’s your sample coming along?”

You were talking about the sample he’d shown you on the train- some song he was composing for a band. “It’s been approved. You wanna hear it?”

“Hell yes,” you grinned, taking his headphones. “What are you calling it?”

“You gotta listen to it first,” he told you and you made a face but listened to the instrumental song, now fully composed. 

And you were in love instantly. With the song, of course. 

Hongjoong could tell you were enjoying it- the way your brows were furrowed as you focused, the way you were literally on your toes but slowly thrumming along to the beat. It made him a little giddy. And when you took off his headphones, you were gaping at him.

“It’s changed a lot since the last time, but I’m not complaining at all. It’s a masterpiece!” You exhaled, looking at him with wonder. “You’re truly an artist, Hongjoong.”

“Ah, you’re flattering me way too much,” he laughed, cheeks flushed and waving his hands dismissively. “It’s called Horizon. Does the name fit?”

“Definitely,” you mimicked his posture from when you found him sitting here. “Is that why you were staring at the… horizon?” Hongjoong stared at you deadpan, making you hide your face. “Admit it. That was funny.”

“A little,” he finally shook his head in amusement. “What brought you here in the middle of the night though?”

The smile fell off your lips. “Dreams.”

“Dreams and not nightmares? That’s new,” he made a face but he relaxed back, staring into the distance with you. “Care to share?”

“Just… very vivid dreams. Sometimes I wonder what was real and what was a dream.”

“I actually know what you mean,” he admitted and you looked at him. “I still think about those dreams and at this point, I’ve probably already mixed them with reality.”

You frowned. “When did you start having these dreams?”

“About a year ago, I think. It was a strange time for me, with work and all,” he sighed but you were thinking about how it was a coincidence- you started having these dreams around a year ago too. “We’re both artists, you and I, y/n. My medium is music and yours is writing. When we get a little too creative… I guess it happens. Dreams become mixed with reality, and we have to take a step back but it keeps plaguing us, back there in our heads. Isn’t that why you needed a change of pace and became a literary editor?”

“No one has figured me out this quickly, not even my therapist,” you exhaled and the two of you began laughing at the absurdity. “But you’re right. Is that why you decided to go to Sector 8 too?”

“I only went four months ago to work with a producer, but I know I wouldn’t have if I didn’t need to get out of this place,” Hongjoong told you. “But I’m saying that I totally get what you mean. And I think it’s good to dream- better than not dreaming at all.”

“That’s kinda poetic,” you teased. “But is it good to dream if you can’t figure out what’s real and what’s not?”

“That’s the fun part, isn’t it?” Hongjoong smiled. “You get to decide.”

You looked at him- really looked at him this time. Messy hair, tired but sparkling eyes, lazy smile, relaxed posture. Was life so easy for him? To figure out stuff like this? Maybe you need to stop being so strict with yourself and start acting a little like Hongjoong.

But… there was a strange tug in your heart that told you that you needed to delve into your past to figure stuff out before you ever decide to dismiss it. At least after the dream tonight.

So you straightened and smiled at Hongjoong before telling him, “I think if we can’t differentiate between dreams and reality… we need to get a grip. If you don’t even know yourself, how are you supposed to move on and begin to know other people?”

“But we never truly know ourselves,” he countered. “We do things that surprise even us.”

“But we should be aware of ourselves, and you, Hongjoong,” you poked his temple, making him groan and laugh at the same time. “You need to be aware of yourself too. And don’t give me the ‘I’m very aware’ bullshit. We’re in this shit together, it seems.”

“Well then, let’s find self-awareness together, shall we?” You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or was just teasing you. “Also, are you going to ditch me like last time or do I get to have your phone number now?”

You grinned at him and exchanged contact information. “Let’s meet for coffee sometime?”

“Definitely,” he nodded and you looked at the time. “You should get going.”

“You should too,” you pursed your lips. “It’s almost 4.”

“You wanna see something?” He asked out of the blue and you raised your brow, even more in surprise when he took your hand and led you to where a bunch of trees were, making you laugh out loud when he gently pushed you down by the shoulders to make you sit, and then he lied down.

“Come,” he patted the space next to him and you lied down as well, frowning at him in mild amusement. 

“You think this is a nice spot to sleep?”

“Shut up and look,” he pointed upwards and you followed his gaze-

Finding stars shine from between the leaves of the trees. “Woah. That’s something I’d like to see before sleeping every night.”

“I know,” he smiled. “I like to watch this when I can’t sleep at night.”

“I can see why,” you said and looked at Hongjoong-

His side-profile looked awfully familiar. It was unique- he had those features you rarely saw on anyone. A very memorable and handsome face. Now why did he look familiar?

You were having a daydream again- or was it a flashback? You were lying down just like this, right here, with your blue-haired boy.

“Y/n?” Hongjoong clicked his fingers in front of you and you shook yourself out of the trance.

“Can I ask you something?” You cleared your throat and he nodded. “Do you dye your hair often?”

Hongjoong was thrown back by the sudden curiosity and he laughed a little. “Yeah, you could say. I’ve had ginger hair, blonde, pink, blue and red too. I’ve tried many different colours.”

Blue.

“Blue sounds interesting. Do you have some pictures of yourself from when you had blue hair?”

“Not right now- I got a new phone a few days ago so it’s basically empty,” he told you and you nodded. “You like blue?”

“Yep,” you smiled. “I think it’s my favourite colour. But I really like your hair now too. I never thought it would look this good on a person.”

“Thanks,” Hongjoong smiled shyly. “I think I’m going to keep it for a while.”

“Sounds good,” you turned to look up, trying not to conjure up the image of blue-haired Hongjoong.

—------------------

Your coffee date with Hongjoong had taken a wilder turn than any of you had intended.

Firstly, you showed up half an hour late, making up the excuse of ‘work’ when the real reason was that you spent hours in front of the mirror trying different outfits because Hongjoong was always looking incredibly good with all his details and you were honestly a mess in comparison.

Secondly, you were wondering if this was a ‘date’ or just a casual meetup where you’re still getting to know each other and becoming friends. You were pretty sure it was the second but that didn’t keep you from stressing over the fact that you, for the first time in years, were trying to socialise with a random stranger. Your only other friends were Yunho and Mingi, both from high school. And they couldn’t help but make fun of you.

“You think seeing me after six months would have done it,” Mingi began, glancing at Yunho, “but she shows up at my place with her hair looking like a nest and in her sweats, barely holding herself up with her laptop and books, and asks to stay over because she needed a break. That’s how she decided to meet me.”

“Ah, is that so?” Yunho laughed. “She looked pretty decent when she met me. I almost got scared.”

“That was because I was coming back from work,” you looked at Yunho pointedly, and then turned to Mingi. “And that was because I was in the library all day and didn’t have the energy to go all the way back home. Your place was like two streets away. And Yunho- you missed that. I even met Seonghwa- the new roommate.”

“Oh? In that state?” Yunho groaned. “My plan to set you two up has already failed then.”

“He liked me,” you simply said. “We talked a bit.”

“That’s just him being kind,” Mingi scoffed. “When you went to sleep, he asked me if you were ‘alright’. He looked like he knew you from someplace.”

“Oh, goodness,” you stopped drying your hair. “Did I look that bad? And he should have told me if I looked familiar.”

“Not your best, you gotta admit,” Mingi ran a hand through his brown hair. “And you’re getting dolled up for a stranger you met on the train? I don’t recall the last time you actually made an effort to look good for someone.”

“I’m not doing it for him, I’m doing it for me,” you said but Yunho and Mingi didn’t look pleased. You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I want to look good. And don’t give me that look- it’s not a date. We’re only friends, still getting to know each other-”

“Which means the possibility is there,” Yunho grinned. “I hope it works this time.”

“What do you mean this time?” You frowned- you didn’t recall any previous time.

“Weren’t you maybe dating someone like two years ago?” Yunho tried to recall. “You didn’t tell us the details but I think you were.”

“Was I?” You frowned. “I don’t remember-”

Your phone buzzed and you read the text from Hongjoong saying he had arrived at the cafe, which was when you realised you were running late. You had to push Yunho and Mingi out of your room so you could finally change and get ready without further distractions. 

So now that you were in front of Hongjoong late, anxiously wondering if this was a date, and already feeling nervous because of how good he was looking in all-black, you were wondering just what was happening- especially when Hongjoong asked you if you wanted to join him at the music festival that was taking place in the arena- he had just gotten two free passes from a friend who was working there.

“Wow, that’s gotta be wild!” You laughed nervously. You wanted to go so badly-

“We can skip if you want to,” Hongjoong was carefully scanning your face.

“No, I’m just wondering if I have any prior engagements for tonight,” you asked him to give you a second so you could check your schedule. You were free. You glanced up at him with a growing smile which he reflected. “Am I underdressed?”

“Nobody cares, we’re good,” Hongjoong said after scanning your outfit. "You look pretty in blue."

"Thanks," you smiled shyly, wondering what it was about him that made you nervous. "You look pretty in everything."

Hongjoong laughed out loud. "That's something I needed to hear."

"I'm not joking!" You huffed. "My friends were making fun of me because I couldn't decide what to wear. You look like someone who would look good in a sack too."

"That's definitely an exaggeration," he scoffed but leaned forward, face resting casually on his hands. "Were you dressing up for me? Is that why you're so late?"

You didn't expect the rush of heat in your stomach but you liked the thrill. "And if I was?"

Hongjoong shook his head, amused. "Let's make the most of tonight then, huh?"

As you exited the cafe, you bumped into a woman who seemed to be in a rush, making her bag drop. You sighed, helping her up and handing her the bag with an apology. 

“It’s okay,” she smiled at you and then at Hongjoong and her smile fell. You frowned at that.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked. “Let me help you inside- you look pale.”

“No, it’s alright, I just need to get my coffee,” she said, scanning you both again with a smile this time. “Date night?”

Hongjoong and you laughed at that. “Kind of,” he said.

“Good luck,” she patted your shoulder and you watched her go inside.

“She seemed familiar for some reason,” Hongjoong said.

“It looked like you seemed familiar to her too,” you commented. “Maybe an old colleague?”

“Maybe. Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, you were at the arena, the combination of loud music and Hongjoong holding your hand as he guided you through the crowd making your heart sound like it was between your ears. Thankfully, it wasn't very crowded. Hongjoong led you to the front where the band was rehearsing before they would start playing- they started lowering the volume and Hongjoong turned towards you. 

"Do you prefer watching or would you like to dance along?"

"I think once I'm feeling it, I might dance along," you shrugged. "I can't say- it's been a while since I came to someplace like this."

"Well, I guess you'll be learning a few things about yourself tonight," he winked, noticing that he was still holding your hand. "Should we stay here then?"

"For now," you nodded, squeezing his hand in appreciation before leaving it, taking a deep breath and smiling as you looked around. "You must come here often."

"I haven't been here in a while as well," he looked troubled and you decided not to ask further about the reason. "But I feel kind of nostalgic now that I'm here."

"I'm excited to see what you look like when you're in your medium, Kim Hongjoong," you teased and he rolled his eyes.

"You have to see me in my workplace. You won't recognise me."

You raised a brow- somehow, you had imagined that he looked kind of hot as he worked. He had that kind of vibe to him. But as if he had read your mind (or noticed you biting your lips) he shook his head. "People avoid me when I'm working on something. I really don't wanna be disturbed and I get frustrated easily too."

"That's pretty similar to writing. When I have an idea, I need all my attention focused on writing. If someone distracts me, I'll burst."

Hongjoong smiled, nodding. It was very true. "For now, I think we can let loose and enjoy."

As if on cue, the speakers were back at full volume, making you grit your teeth momentarily as you got used to the sound of your bones shaking and then you were swaying along to the beat in a light manner, much like Hongjoong. He seemed to know the song- or maybe he was just better at this than you, but his grin told you you were doing just fine.

The rest of the night was a blur- it took you only another few songs to completely lose yourself into the music. You were soon reflecting Hongjoong’s wild energy and if you could see yourself from afar at that moment, you wouldn’t recognise yourself. It was as if either something had possessed you or you’d finally let go of the things bothering you. 

When you exited the arena and went to the food stalls, Hongjoong grabbed water bottles and you took a big few gulps before exhaling loudly. “I think I should have just come to a concert before deciding I was depressed and needed to change my environment. This is free therapy!”

Hongjoong laughed loudly. “Post-concert depression is also a thing. Don’t move around after that.”

“Really?” You said but realised that your heart was still pounding and your legs were still thrumming along to some beat. “You better deal with that mess then.”

“Oh, I will,” he smirked and you raised a brow. You hadn’t missed the ‘casual’ touches Hongjoong had passed throughout the concert, nor had you missed how he glanced at you more often than necessary. And he alone wasn’t to blame- you hadn’t been subtle either. There was an undeniable pull between you two and it wasn’t helping that you two were tiptoeing around it and not addressing it. “You wanna take a walk and calm down before we go home?”

You nodded and didn’t protest when he took your hand in his and guided you to the exit, avoiding people he recognised because he didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed. Once you were out, you intertwined your fingers as a silent thanks and to let him know you didn’t mind holding hands. 

“I won’t forget tonight,” Hongjoong’s voice was low. “I enjoyed it very much.”

“Me too,” you pursed your lips. “It was also a bit nostalgic being there- I don’t know why, but I just felt… like I’ve been there before.”

“Really?” Hongjoong looked genuinely surprised. “I felt the same- I’ve been to many concerts but this was the first time I felt so nostalgic- but more like I was having an intense deja vu.”

“I think it’s us,” you grinned at him. “When I was writing for fun, I read something that stuck with me- that there are some people we know in another reality. We instantly feel a connection with them and they make us feel like we’ve been there before- with them. Do you think so too?”

“I didn’t know it was actually a thing,” Hongjoong seemed fascinated. “I thought it was just because I liked you a little too much.”

You tried suppressing a grin but failed, bumping against him on purpose, squeezing his hand. He copied that and you two giggled like kids. “That’s the most cheesy thing I’ve heard in a while. I think I should use it in one of my books.”

“I’d read that,” he laughed and you both paused when you reached the intersection- you were to go left and he to right. He turned you towards him, looking down at your still joined hands. “I think you should let go now.”

“I think you’re the one still holding, see?” You flexed your fingers in his hand and he chuckled. 

“I’m taking you to dinner next time- a real date. If… if you’d like to,” Hongjoong asked cautiously.

You pretended to think about it. “I think I’d like to. Very much. Good night, Hongjoong, and thank you for today.”

You leaned forward to plant a kiss on his cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. You grinned at that, waving and rushing off before he could respond because god, he looked absolutely hot when he looked at you that way.

And you were glad he had voiced that he liked you and that you weren’t hallucinating or reading too much into things. Because you liked Kim Hongjoong very much. It was strange how it felt like you had known him longer than the actual few weeks because you weren’t the kind of person to open up to someone this quickly, nor did you get along with many people.

You put your hands in your pocket as you walked back and felt something in one of the pockets- a card. You took it out and frowned in confusion- you didn’t remember putting this business card in your pocket, nor did you remember ever meeting Lee Sunmi from ‘Wonderland Intelligence Service’. The WIS was a government organisation- something not even known to the general public. Why did you have the business card of someone from the WIS?

As you got home and changed, you sat in front of your laptop on the table, staring at your plain black desktop screen, zoned out. There was this feeling like something scratching at your subconscious- you just couldn’t figure it out. And when you felt something wet on your cheeks, you realised it was tears. You wiped your face, suddenly overwhelmed, and decided to cry your heart out when you couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

You couldn’t figure out what was this sadness clinging to you like a part of your soul- it followed you everywhere. You couldn’t find its origin nor could you see its end. All you knew was that there was something you had forgotten- it couldn’t just be your dreams and imagination making you sad. There was no way. You had forgotten something, and whatever it was, it must have been important to you. 

You needed to find answers. And you would start with yourself. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you cry, alone.

In his apartment, having washed up, Hongjoong sat in his studio-room in front of his big setup of laptops and PCs, a mess of wires and screens and speakers and earphones lying around. It was always comforting to simply sit and stare, even if he wasn’t working. He thought about the concert earlier, about you, with a faint smile on his face.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. You probably wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but he wasn’t always like this. There was just something utterly familiar and comforting and welcoming about you that made him open up to you and befriend you, that made him want more than being just friends. He thought you were absolutely pretty- in the way you held yourself, in the way you talked. And he had seen a new side of you tonight- the wild side, and oh, he knew in that moment that he was done for. There was no coming back now.

He had to have you. 

Hongjoong opened up a few folders, trying to find old concert footage or photos from the last time he went- probably a year or two ago, maybe even earlier. He had a habit of organising his folders by years, and he went to open the one from last year, not finding much, just some photos of the scenery that usually served as inspiration when he produced or composed. He opened the folder from two years ago, finding photos of-

Sector 7? The board read Sector 7 in one of the photos. He frowned as he tried to recall- when exactly had he gone to Sector 7? He couldn’t quite recall and he thought it odd- he wasn’t one with memory issues, he had never been. Hongjoong opened one of the photos- Sector 7 was famous for its hills and rivers. He scrolled through the photos of clouds, hills, flowers, finding a few of himself and then some of a cafe- a book cafe, it looked like. 

Hongjoong stared at the photo for a long time- it seemed awfully familiar but it was odd that he couldn’t recall what he was doing at a book cafe. He wasn’t the type to go to cafes alone- certainly not book cafes. It was also a bit odd that he could only recall fragments of his trip if he tried hard. He shrugged, opening his music files from that year- perhaps something would rock his memory.

There were surprisingly more tracks there than he had expected. He opened a random one, which was a guitar sample. Before he could open another, his phone rang and he went to find it, finding his old friend Seonghwa calling and he slumped on the bed, talking to him for a long part of the night and catching up, forgetting all about the audio and music files in his folder.

—---------------------

“Do you ever think that you’ve been replaced in another reality? That you’ve… switched with the ‘you’ of the other dimension?”

“What in the world have you been reading again?” Mingi looked up from his laptop to frown at you. “Don’t tell me you stayed up all night reading those conspiracy theories again.”

“Doesn’t it make sense?” You continued, pouting as you played with the rings on your fingers. “You remember everything because you’ve lived the same life, but at the same time, some of your memories… there’s a glitch.”

“Definitely the conspiracy theories,” Yunho muttered, not even bothering to look up at you as he worked on something, picking his mug to take a sip of his coffee. “Why are you here again? I thought you had better places to be.”

“This was ‘better places’,” you threw a pen at Yunho who scoffed. “I am unwanted. I should make myself scarce.”

“Now you realise, after like a decade of our friendship,” Mingi sighed deeply and you cursed out loud, straightening when you heard keys jingle and the door unlocking.

“Hi guys- oh, you’re here too,” Seonghwa waved at you and you smiled, waving back. “I’m just stopping by to throw my stuff- I’m hanging out with a friend tonight. Don’t wait for me at dinner.”

“Ah, we’ll have to order takeout again,” Mingi sighed again and Yunho laughed. Seonghwa stopped to point his finger accusingly at the two before rushing to his room. You looked at Yunho who was eyeing you rather suspiciously.

“What?” You challenged- you had told him you were not interested in Seonghwa like that, but Yunho seemed intent to do something about your relationship status, saying it was necessary at this point- you had been single way too long. 

“Nothing,” Yunho stifled a smile and you all waved at Seonghwa as he said bye. You looked back at Yunho. “Can you stop smiling like a clown and tell me- if you knew your memories were going to be lost, what would you do?”

“If and only if you’re writing again, I’ll answer,” Yunho challenged. You pursed your lips.

“Maybe I will.”

“Fine,” Yunho straightened, thinking. It had always been like this- you, sitting aimlessly around the two, throwing the most random questions and mostly talking to yourself. It helped straighten your thoughts out and that helped when you wrote. “So I know my memories are going to be lost, and I want to protect the cherished ones?”

“Kind of, yes,” you nodded, thinking about your dreams. “There’s someone important to you that you’re going to forget. You can’t avoid it. What would you do?”

“Maybe you wanted to forget them,” Mingi almost mumbled. He looked up from his laptop to find you two staring at him. “Just a thought, carry on.”

You made a face and Yunho reflected, saying, “That’s plausible too. But… maybe I’d keep something in case I want to remember, huh? How would that even work?”

“Maybe a journal or a picture… or an object that would remind me of them?” You mused. “But all of that’s easily manipulated. Something I would know for sure is real.”

“And you can’t rely on your memories, if they come back?” Yunho looked confused. “Because you can’t figure out what was real and what was your imagination. I read something similar once too.”

“Yeah, so what would you do?” You asked. 

“I don’t know,” Yunho shrugged. “Probably hide something that belonged to them in a place only I would know.”

“Or hide something in plain sight but decipherable only to you- if you want to remember,” Mingi contributed and you did a double-take because that was the kind of thing you would do as well. “Maybe you shouldn’t be looking too far, you know?”

“You’re kind of a genius, Mingi,” you acknowledged and he simply saluted.

“But the kind of people you both are, you’d be staring right at it for the rest of your life and never figure it out,” Yunho sighed and the two of you laughed- that was something that was definitely a possibility with you and Mingi. “You’ll have better luck hiding a time capsule. At least you could be right about the location if you ever decide to bury one.”

“But… where would I bury a time capsule?” Mingi was not fully invested in the discussion, having put aside his laptop and shifting on the couch. “I have several places in mind. Do I go digging around at each site? I’d look like a maniac”

“Think of a place special to you,” Yunho mused, relaxing back. “Some place you go to when you’re alone. A place special to you, known only to you.”

“I don’t have such a place I think,” you said, disappointed. “Probably my room is the closest to the description.”

Mingi snickered at that and Yunho shook his head, “There’s always such a place for everyone. You just gotta think.”

You did think when you got back home that night. You combed through your room, spending hours rearranging the mess in your drawers, pausing at certain objects with a smile- like the mini penguin plushie from Mingi at your last birthday or the box of stationery from Yunho which contained everything you needed whenever you were in the process of writing something- markers, sticky notes, even some words of affirmations handwritten by Yunho himself, some scolding you to stop slacking. 

Some objects made you sad as well- remnants of your childhood, of your parents, a few items making you incredibly nostalgic. But everything you owned had a distinct memory attached to it- there was nothing out of the ordinary in your room. You even searched through your laptop for any journal entries (you weren’t the type, though) or anything, but the only thing amiss was a draft for what you assumed had to be a story prompt. It was in a folder where you kept the few selfies you sometimes took. You thought it was odd that a text file was there but it had probably been because you were in a rush. You opened it and skimmed through it- some plot about a writer being a spy hired by her country to investigate illegal activities in the entertainment industry. You smiled to yourself- it wasn’t an unusual plot for you as you usually wrote crime novels, but there was a hint of romance in this one, which was new because you never wanted to add romance in your books.

You sighed- maybe you were losing it, maybe you needed to go out more. 

And when Hongjoong texted and offered to take you out on a lunch date two days later, you agreed, forgetting about the blue-haired boy that had been plaguing your thoughts recently.

—-----------------

Hanging out with Hongjoong every other day was becoming a part of your routine- meeting up for coffee in the evenings, getting dinner together a few times or just late night walks in the park when you first met him- because you lived so close to each other, it wasn’t too hard to meet up. And you weren’t going to complain- you were in a better mood these days, as observed by Mingi and Yunho.

They teased you often about Hongjoong- you hadn’t told them anything about him yet. You knew they would never let you live if things with Hongjoong didn’t turn out like you were expecting, so you teased them to bits especially when they tried guessing his name.

“Sometimes I have a feeling that it’s Seonghwa- but then… he would have told us, right?” Yunho looked at Mingi and he scoffed.

“Seonghwa wouldn’t like her,” Mingi pointed with his controller, going back to playing the video game as if he hadn’t just insulted you.

“Excuse me? What’s so wrong about me, why are you always like this?” You were whining now, poking his thigh with your feet that were sprawled over the couch and Yunho laughed. 

“I’m just saying Seonghwa knows better. You’re a mess, frankly. No wonder you’re still single- ouch!”

“Well deserved,” Yunho agreed with you this time, complimenting your aim- you had tossed a pillow at Mingi and it had barely missed his eyes. “She’s not that bad-”

“Not helping, Yunho,” you put a finger on your lips, indicating to him to shut up if he couldn’t say anything better. “Honestly? Admit it I’m better than those girls who put on this fake persona. At least I’m real. Who doesn’t like that? What if I was a stuck-up bitch who only cared about how her nails looked- oh, hi, Seonghwa.”

You didn’t mind Seonghwa now, mostly because he didn’t mind your presence, though he had been wary for the first few times you came over. He explained that it was just because he was shy but you got comfortable with each other soon- perhaps because with Yunho and Mingi present, it felt like you were all old friends.

It didn’t help that Seonghwa knew way more about you than you’d like, thanks to certain two loud-mouthed friends of yours. Seonghwa waved, sitting across from you. “You were saying?”

“Nothing,” you smiled sweetly but Yunho had other plans. 

“She’s still not telling us who it is she’s been meeting up with. She’s not even telling us if they’re still friends or more,” Yunho sighed dramatically.

“She’ll tell you when she wants to, isn’t that right?” Seonghwa winked at her and you looked at him gratefully. “You haven’t ordered yet, have you? I should ask Hongjoong when he’s coming.”

You frowned, watching Seonghwa fish out his phone and text ‘Hongjoong’. “Your friend who’s joining us today- he’s called Hongjoong?”

“Yep,” Seonghwa finished texting, looking up. You had a funny look on your face as you looked at Yunho who was following you and you scoffed.

“What are the chances?” You muttered.

“AH, so he’s called Hongjoong?” Yunho raised a brow. “Let’s wait for this Hongjoong to arrive then. Let’s not talk more about him.”

You felt a sudden thrill- was it really such a small world you lived in? And if Hongjoong really was Seonghwa’s friend… that would be a big coincidence. 

And it turned out to be right. When you spotted the familiar ‘oreo-hair’, as you titled it, you hid your face in your hands for a moment before looking up at Hongjoong, who paused and looked at everyone in the room before back at you, and then you two were laughing like madmen.

“I’m kicking them both out,” Mingi got up, laughing along as he dragged you by the arm. “Get out of my apartment, you’re scaring me with the way you’re laughing!”

“No, it’s just…” you finished laughing, wiping your eyes. “He’s the Hongjoong that I- that I’m friends with.”

“Just friends?” Seonghwa asked. “I thought Hongjoong loved you or something-”

“Shut up, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong smacked his arms. “We’re… dating. I think.”

“You think?” Yunho guided Hongjoong to sit. “You better tell us everything, the two of you.”

And so you did. You two were meeting up every other day, yes. Maybe you could call it a date, but you two found out that you preferred really getting to know each other before defining your relationship- friends, or more. And so far, you two were still confused.

“You two definitely like each other, look at the hearts in your eyes,” Seonghwa sighed dramatically. “Get a room.”

“Seonghwa, please,” you groaned. Seonghwa was one of Hongjoong’s oldest friends and you felt like you could instantly trust him- and that also made you two more comfortable with each other, as friends. “Shut up and eat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeyed, taking another slice of pizza. “So you two met on the train, then by chance, found each other in the park. And now you’re dating. You should write a book. And you, Hongjoong. I bet you’ve already written a song about her.”

Mingi snickered at that and Hongjoong groaned loudly. “Let’s leave, y/n.”

“Let’s,” you folded your arms, waiting for anyone to stop you but the three hyenas were too busy laughing and eating. “I hate you all.”

“Hate is a strong word,” Mingi commented.

“I wish there was a stronger word in my head right now,” you smiled sweetly at him and then looked at Hongjoong. “You know, if you had mentioned a certain Seonghwa being your friend, I would have connected the dots.”

“I did!” Hongjoong said. “I’m sure I did… you could have mentioned Yunho or Mingi too!”

The two of you got into an argument that escalated from being bad with names to arguing about why you had memory issues recently and why Hongjoong couldn’t separate dreams from reality when you realised the three of them were quietly listening to everything.

“My god,” Mingi was the first to break the silence. “They’re just like each other.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled and for the rest of the night you tolerated your group of friends, giving in to their teasing. That’s just how it was between the three of you, and from the looks of it, Seonghwa and Hongjoong shared a similar relationship as well. You found yourself looking around, heart full- these were your people. 

You wished you all would stay like this for a long time.

When it was almost midnight, you grabbed your stuff and said goodbyes. Hongjoong was quick to get up and offered to walk you and you nodded- you two would be going to the same path anyway, at least for a while. 

“It’s a small world,” Hongjoong found himself laughing as the two of you walked through the streets. “I never expected this.”

“Me neither,” you grinned. “It was becoming a joke at this point because I wasn’t telling your name to any of them on purpose.”

“Why though?” Hongjoong sounded curious. “Because they would tease you?”

“Oh, I’m used to that, it even goes over my head now,” you shook your head. “It’s just… I’ve had a bad experience with dating- god, that sounds wrong. I just mean that dating rarely works for me, which has become an inside joke now.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right guy yet?” Hongjoong looked hopeful and you passed him a look but then sighed.

“I think it’s a me-problem. I’m rarely ever emotionally available. That doesn’t sit well with people- they don’t expect it from me even if I tell them beforehand. And when they do find out… it doesn’t end well.”

“I can relate to that- I’m more of the ‘physically absent’ person when it comes to dating, being always busy with work. I’ve always put work as my priority and that doesn’t sit well with people.”

“They say they understand, they all do… but they never really understand. I’m just- I don’t deal with the dramatics, Hongjoong. I hate it when someone’s being vague with me. I want to hear the truth, and I want to tell the truth. That sounds simple but that’s probably the hardest thing to do.”

“It is,” Hongjoong was nodding. “The truth isn’t always what people want to hear.”

“I think,” you were now stepping in the blocks of the tiles along the pavement and Hongjoong found it adorable that you were avoiding the lines. “I think I really like you Hongjoong. You’re honest, unfiltered, and you know your priorities. I like that. I’m just figuring out if we’re better off as friends or if we should try being more.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong’s heart did a somersault. “I kind of understand what you meant about yourself. You make it sound like it’s very simple, y/n, making that sort of a decision.”

“Isn’t it?” You stopped and turned to him, grinning. “I like you. I could kiss you right now. But if you tell me we think we’re better off as friends, I would-”

You didn’t get to complete your sentence because Hongjoong had cupped your face and was kissing you urgently, as if trying to tell you to stop thinking anymore. You got the message and brought your hands to his shoulders, squeezing them as you kissed him back, tasting chocolate from the dessert you had just before you left. You kissed him deeper, stifling a groan because he could kiss, and his hands travelling to the back of your head and cradling your neck were driving you insane.

Hongjoong broke apart, your breaths mingling as he rested his forehead against yours. “I- I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, y/n. Can we try being more than friends?”

“Of course,” your response was quick. “I didn’t realise that you liked me this much.”

Hongjoong laughed when you poked his stomach. He poked it back, drawing apart a bit and tucking your hair back. “There’s just something about you that speaks to me in a familiar way. I think we’d be good together, don’t you think so?”

You nodded. You two could be good together. You snaked your hand in his and urged him to walk with you. “Do you want to go to Sector 7 with me, Hongjoong?”

“Sector 7? What for?” He asked.

“There’s a place I need to go,” you sighed deeply. “I need to solve a mystery. And I need you with me as I do it.”

“You’re being weird,” Hongjoong teased but when he saw that you were serious, he paused. “Is this about your dreams- the flashbacks? You want to confirm?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. You had told him about your flashbacks- of a presence that you missed, of places you’ve been to or things you’ve done that you no longer had a memory of. 

Surprisingly, Hongjoong hadn’t deemed you insane. He had been nothing but a great help, telling you that it was okay, urging you to explore and find answers if it was bugging you to the point that you had trouble sleeping. Hongjoong squeezed your hand yet again, as he had so many times. “I’ll be with you.”

That night, the two of you discovered a missing piece in the long-forgotten puzzle. 

Hongjoong sat, lovestruck, in front of his PC, scrolling through some old samples looking for inspiration. He came upon an unclosed tab from days ago- those samples that he didn’t recall producing. And when he played all of them patiently, his chest tight from the intense deja vu, he couldn’t help but think that he, too, had a mystery to solve. And perhaps, going to Sector 7 with you would rock his memory. It was incredibly odd that you were going to Sector 7 because of a similar question as well- maybe you two didn’t realise it yet but you were both on the same journey, with one destination. But why- how could this happen?

How could this happen, you thought as you went through the draft that you had read a few days ago. It was starting to look less like a draft and more like a narration of events- there was the blue haired boy. He was a producer. The main character was a writer. And the blue haired boy had said something-

“Cold snowflakes wither and fall Until you bloom as a spring flower I’ll be with you-”

You hadn’t made the connection until you were showering after coming back, recalling what Hongjoong had said just before you had parted ways- ‘I’ll be with you’. It would have been a casual phrase but then you recalled seeing these lyrics in Hongjoong’s music journal- he was working on the rhythm for the song. As soon as you finished showering, you were wondering just where you had heard it before- and then about an hour later, you found it in your draft.

Could your blue haired boy really be Hongjoong? If so, what was the reason you didn’t remember him? You supposed there was only one way to find out- Sector 7.

—--------------------

You decided not to mention that you suspected Hongjoong to be your blue haired boy for several reasons. He could be pretending not to know you, which was very suspicious. He could have forgotten you as well, which was more suspicious. But you were going to be testing Hongjoong today- you were going to be watching his every move and see just what was going on.

Clearly, he was doing the same thing as you. As you two sat in the train, deciding public transport would be the best since you had no idea how long this trip would take, you both were feeling that same deja vu like the last time you shared a train journey together, and…

You both were staring at each other. Without shame.

Hongjoong was the first to give in with a nervous laugh and he brushed his clothes, running a hand through his hair. “You know… I don’t like being watched.”

“Maybe you’re just a very pretty sight to see, you know,” you were chewing gum fiercely. “Maybe I’m… memorising your face. After all, we kissed two days ago. I thought we were going somewhere, Hongjoong-”

“Stop teasing me,” he laughed, and your heart swelled when you found his cheeks flushed. Even if Hongjoong wasn’t who he was pretending to be, which you were maybe 49 percent sure was the case, he was still a very cute and handsome and sexy guy. You mentally slapped yourself for not coming up with better vocabulary as a writer, but hey, what could you say? He did render you at loss for words oftentimes. 

“Are we not going to address where we stand, Hongjoong?” You teased again, poking his shoes with your own. 

“I think…” Hongjoong scanned you and you made weird faces but he tried to be serious. “I think that I don’t know who you are, y/n.”

“Well, we never really know each other. I won’t claim I know myself either, at this point,” you almost mumbled the last part.

“I can relate to that,” Hongjoong sighed, scooting to the corner. “Why are we really going to Sector 7? And I need to hear the truth this time, y/n. You’re not giving me answers and I don’t know why I followed you- I mean, I trust you. I feel like I can trust you, but I don’t know where we are headed.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you trust me,” you said- you really were. “It’s just… I don’t know why I’m going either. I just need to go and I need to find some answers. I need to clear my suspicions. I think I forgot something important, Hongjoong. We’re visiting a book cafe- I hope to find answers there.”

Hongjoong straightened up after hearing that. Could it be? “The book cafe at the top of the hill?”

“Ah, you’ve been there?” Now that was news to you and certainly made things more confusing.

“I think I have,” Hongjoong nodded. “I was scrolling through some old photos and found some. I don’t really recall going there, though, which is odd.”

“Well, I think you might be involved then, Hongjoong,” you said cautiously and he frowned in confusion. “Did you, perhaps, have blue hair when you went to that book cafe?”

“From the pictures I saw? Yes. But did we go at the same time?” Hongjoong asked. “Do you remember when you went there? I checked the date- I went around 2 years ago.”

“I don’t have proof that I went there, just… flashbacks,” you sighed. “Which is why I cannot trust my memory and need concrete proof. And I don’t want to think of you as the blue haired boy until I’m sure it was you. Because if you think about it… could we have known each other? Really? What is this then, mind wiping? Time travel? Alternate reality?”

“Slow down,” Hongjoong grinned.

“I might be going overboard with my imagination but I’m not crazy, Hongjoong,” you said but Hongjoong nodded sarcastically- you didn’t sound very convincing. You groaned, giving in. “Okay, yes, I’m going to prove that I’m not crazy. Why are you going?”

“To prove that I’m not crazy,” Hongjoong admitted and you raised a brow. “I found some samples that I don’t remember producing. A few photos that I don’t remember taking. And they were kind of hidden, in my own laptop, if that makes sense,” he looked at you. “As if I hid them from myself.”

“Crazy because I found a draft too,” you told him. “It’s supposed to be a story but I think it’s meant to be a narration.”

“But if we did know each other… and if we’ve forgotten- I’m entertaining this crazy impossible idea only because we’re on the train and we have time to kill,” he looked pointedly at you and you scoffed. “But… what I’m saying is that if we knew each other… the people around us would have known about us too, right? Like Seonghwa, Yunho, Mingi. But we’re all strangers, aren’t we?”

“But the timeline…” you leaned forward. “It was almost a year ago that I woke up in my room and thought that I was an alien because nothing in my room made sense to me! I told you about that- I always, always make patterns, but there were missing photos on the softboard, the room was a mess-”

“One drunken night could do wonders-”

“We’re theorising, okay, let’s explore every possibility,” you slapped his thigh and he shrugged. “I was feeling so disoriented. Didn’t something like that happen to you too?”

“It did,” he had told you about it- it wasn’t as obvious to him but he felt this intense dread for no reason. It was like he had lost something important but didn’t know. The kind of gut feeling you get when something bad is about to happen. “But it could have been a coincidence.”

“Duh, but we’re thinking of possibilities other than coincidences,” you leaned back, biting your nails as you thought. “It can’t be a past life. It could be an alternate reality but… let’s think realistically first, huh?”

“Sure,” Hongjoong laughed. “Such a realistic trip we’re going on.”

“Look, if you think I’ve lost it after this trip, we can pretend the kiss never happened and go back to being friends,” you laughed but it fell when you saw the look Hongjoong gave- like he was going to scold you. “Unless you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

You almost sank to your knees- you hadn’t entertained the possibility that Hongjoong might actually think that you are nuts and never want to see you again. But when Hongjoong leaned forward and grabbed your hands in his, you found him smiling. 

“One of the reasons I like you is because of your brain- even though it doesn’t make sense most of the time,” he laughed and you joined, feeling relieved. “I like how you think. You make me look at the world differently, y/n.”

“Yeah. The crazy pov must help a lot with producing and stuff, huh?” You said and he chuckled. 

“I just connect with you, crazy or not,” Hongjoong said. “We’re friends no matter what. We’re friends first, no matter what answers we might find ahead. Can we shake hands on that?”

“Definitely,” you shook hands with him.

“If what you’re thinking is true… it could be something ugly,” he sounded grim. “But… let’s remember this moment. I would like you to hold my hand if I want to run away, and I can do the same for you.”

“Hongjoong, you’re gonna make me cry,” your lips were quivering as you looked up.

“Don’t cry,” he cupped your face, wiping your eyes. “Let’s trust each other, okay? Let’s not hide things.”

“Let’s not run away from the truth,” you added and he nodded, kissing your forehead. “Talking about the truth, what if one of our friends knows about us but is hiding it from us?”

It was Hongjoong’s turn to smack the spot on your forehead where he had just kissed you. “You think too much, I’ll admit.”

“Ah,” you shook your head in disappointment, drawing away. “All that talk about finding my brain sexy was lies, huh?”

“First of all, I never called your brain sexy!” Hongjoong was laughing. 

“That’s how it translated in my head!”

And so, the two of you bickered and made fun of each other until you reached the station. You both had only one backpack each with a change of clothes so you were quick and anxious to get out of the train, immediately gasping at the sudden change of scenery.

Sector 7 was everything Sector 8 wasn’t. For starters, the train station was cleaner- no wrappers lying around, no drunkards lining the walls. It was all monochrome and had a retro vibe to it- but then again, Sector 7 was known for leaning towards nature and cleanliness rather than the modern mess which seemed to be your home’s staple. 

“The air feels so… different,” Hongjoong looked at you as you exited, picking a stray leaf from your hair. “Everything smells… cleaner.”

“Definitely,” you took a deep breath. “I can feel my lungs opening. I can’t believe how suffocating our hometown is. Maybe I should have moved here instead of Sector 1- at least I could have come back healthier.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Sector 1 really wasn’t much different from Sector 8, huh?”

“Yep,” you scoffed, looking at your phone for all the book cafes in Sector 7. “Just more modern and messier. Also, you should have taken a photo of the name of the cafe, Hongjoong. Really would have saved us the trip.”

“We have time to kill, don’t we?” Hongjoong shrugged, smiling. “Besides, how many book cafes could there be in one sector?”

An astonishing five was the answer. It seemed like the people here had a thing for book cafes. Sector 7 was the smallest sector but it had more book cafes than any other sector. And since it was a hilly area, you couldn’t rule out your options, and Hongjoong’s photos of the inside of the cafe weren’t helping much, though you did rank the cafes from the most probable to the least before marking the route on the map before taking the bus to get dropped off at the foot of one of the two hills that had two cafes.

“Better be one of them,” you sighed, looking up- the hill looked smaller in the photos on the internet. “That’s quite a hike.”

“I hope it’ll be worth it,” Hongjoong was mirroring your position. 

“Shush. We’re having fun whether we find something or not. That’s the plan, remember?” You smiled and he took your hand, squeezing it before following you up to the trail. 

Though the first cafe had a similar interior to the one you could see from the few pictures Hongjoong had, you decided it wasn’t the one after surveying. You did grab coffee to go and decided to rest before hiking up. You were checking your group chat with Yunho and Mingi which made you scoff internally- they were being wild.

Mingi: I hope you’re having… ‘fun’.

Yunho: Let’s not disturb her today hehehe

“What’s so funny?” Hongjoong snickered. “You know you can laugh.”

You let out the laugh you had been holding. “Just Yunho and Mingi. They can get weird sometimes, especially in our group chat.”

“Tell me about it,” Hongjoong scoffed. “We have a group chat of 6 and boy, does it get crazy. I keep them on mute.”

“Is that the one with Seonghwa? He seems… mature.”

“Mature?” Hongjoong laughed. “To you, maybe. He’s still a kid.”

You noticed how Hongjoong was smiling. “You adore him.”

“I don’t,” Hongjoong didn’t sound convincing and you shrugged. “Okay, yeah, of course I do.”

“See, that wasn’t too hard,” you stretched your limbs. “I adore Yunho and Mingi too- at times when the desire to kill them is less stronger.”

“Yeah, that’s more relatable,” Hongjoong agreed, finishing his coffee. “Do you think… if we knew each other, and one of our friends knew about us… they didn’t tell us on purpose?”

You looked at him- that was something you had discussed on your train ride too but it seemed like the possibility stayed with him. “Isn’t Seonghwa your closest friend? Has he done anything to make you feel like that could actually be a possibility? Because I was just rambling on the train-”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong sighed, leaning forward and watching his shoes stick in the grass. He recalled the time when he found you at his place during dinner with the boys. Seonghwa had, just for a moment, looked at Hongjoong like he had found something he wasn’t supposed to find though he had been pretty normal later- a bit too normal, if he could admit. “I don’t know how I’ll feel if that’s the case.”

You took Hongjoong’s hand in yours, tracing his fingers. “You have cute hands.”

“Shut up,” he laughed. 

“No, really,” you laughed back, taking a deep breath. “Seonghwa seems like someone who genuinely cares about you. Even if he did that, which is a possibility I’m not actually entertaining, but even if he didn’t tell you about this on purpose… I’m sure he had his reasons, Hongjoong. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right? He’s been your friend for like a decade, just like Yunho and Mingi with me, right?”

Hongjoong nodded. “If Yunho and Mingi did that to you, would you hate them?”

“I don’t think I can ever hate them. That’s how it is with friends,” you squeezed his hand. “I won’t hate anyone after finding out the truth. Maybe the only person I’ll hate is myself.”

“You should be kind to yourself,” Hongjoong almost whispered, turning towards you. “I believe you, you know. Even if we find out nothing today, even if the dots don’t connect… I believe in you.”

You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help watching his eyes sparkle like there were more worlds to explore than the one you were in. You couldn’t help but not smile when he did, when his face shifted into warmth and loveliness, so you went ahead and pecked his lips, lingering a bit before you drew back, clearly having surprised him. Before you could regret the decision and maybe apologise, Hongjoong was cupping your face with one hand and bringing you forward to meet his lips in a proper kiss and after you recovered from the shock, you were kissing him back with equal enthusiasm, ditching your coffee to fist his shirt as you brought him closer. 

“Shit,” Hongjoong breathed as he broke the kiss, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You grinned, pulling him closer for the dramatics. “You can always back out.”

“Nah, I’m enjoying this,” Hongjoong cupped your face in both hands this time as he kissed you and you were amazed, blown by how good he was at kissing. He knew what exactly to do and you were submitting to him. You only pulled apart when you heard the faint sound of passersby but he finished with a peck to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You stifled a smile, suddenly shy, watching him straighten his clothes and hair and when he was done, he looked at you. “Done staring?”

“Nope,” you muttered, continuing to watch him as he picked up both your cups and threw them in the trash can. “I’ve suddenly forgotten what we were supposed to do.”

“We’re hiking up, hello?” Hongjoong snapped his fingers in front of you and you came to your senses. He extended his hand and you took it, helping you get up. “Done already?”

“Done for,” you teased as you elbowed him, making him grin. “You should know that this was supposed to be a platonic investigation trip.”

“We can make it a romantic mystery trip,” Hongjoong suggested.

“Gosh, you sound cheesy,” you made a face and he laughed. “No wonder you’ve been single for so long. Whoever would tolerate such cheesiness?”

“Says you!” Hongjoong scoffed. “When’s the last time you dated?”

“Oops,” you flinched. “Does the imaginary blue haired boy count? Pretty sure I’m dating him…”

“You can’t two-time on me,” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes.

“Whatever. He’s prettier,” you mumbled.

“You don’t even know what he looks like!”

And somehow, with the constant teasing and bickering (and a few kisses exchanged to prove a few points), you were outside the second cafe- Cafe Crescent. With folded arms, you scanned the exterior- all wood and greens, and then looked at the view it provided with the outdoor sitting- you could see the majority of Sector 7 from this point of the hill.

“Pretty cool. We should have lunch here, what do you say?” You asked.

“Yep, definitely. I don’t think I can tolerate the sound of your growling stomach anymore…”

“I should just friendzone you,” you decided before urging him to follow you, ignoring his chuckles. Once you stepped inside though, you both automatically shut up.

“This has to be it,” Hongjoong was the first one to say. You agreed, and you placed your orders before surveying the inside, pretending to look at the books that lined one whole wall. There was a variety of genres that made you pleased.

“We have the more recent books in the back too,” one of the staff pointed. “Along with a photobooth, if you’re up for it.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and you two decided to eat first, in case you would lose your appetite later.

And you were right about that. After you finished eating, which was quick since you two were silent eaters, you went to the back, wowing- the back was more pastels, just like in the photos that Hongjoong had. There were two large bookshelves and some couches and the smell of coffee in the air just made it perfect. 

“I like it here,” you mumbled, scanning the shelves and scoffing when you found your own book there. “Hongjoong? Do you wanna see my book?”

“Your book is here?” Hongjoong wowed. “That’s nice.”

“There it is,” you picked it out. Hongjoong had already read your book before he knew you so he was quite surprised when he found out you were a published writer. You opened the first page and smiled to yourself- the nostalgia was strong with this one. 

“Let me see,” Hongjoong asked and you gave him the book, which he was skimming through as you went to the photobooth and saw several polaroids stuck to a softboard- of tourists, probably. You were looking at them when you felt Hongjoong tap your shoulder.

“Uhh, you might want to see this.”

You leaned forward to see what he was pointing at, surprised to find a doodle with your signature- a blue haired boy and a girl that looked an awful lot like you.

“Only I would dare to doodle in my own book, huh?” You muttered as you took the book, inspecting it closely. You skimmed through the rest of the pages, finding a few words that were highlighted in blue. “I think I should sit down and see what the random highlighted parts are about.”

“Sure, I’ll look for another book if they have,” Hongjoong offered and you nodded. Hongjoong asked the staff if they had more works or copies by that author, but it seemed like the one in your hand was the only copy they had, so he sat with you and you noted every highlighted word that came in random intervals, noticing that sometimes a single letter was highlighted as well.

It took about half an hour- and complaining about the length of your own book- when Hongjoong had the words down and he stared at the long note in confusion. 

“Forget… do… not… love… you… one… the… and what’s with these letters?”

“Do not forget the one you love?” You translated for him and he wowed. 

“You’re quick.”

“Let me see this,” you took the note from him, working on arranging the rest of the message while he fidgeted in nervousness and by the time you were done, you were looking at Hongjoong in disbelief, passing him the note to read.

“Do not forget the one you love. Your mind may forget but your heart will remember. If there is one memory you could keep it is of him. Ignorance is bliss.”

“Does this make sense to you?” Hongjoong asked, noticing the unarranged letters. “And what’s this?”

“Go ahead and figure it out. It’s an anagram.”

Hongjoong stared at the jumbled letters for barely a few seconds before he looked at you. “That’s… my name.”

“Kim Hongjoong,” you pursed your lips. “You are my blue haired boy.”

“Wait- hold up,” he stared at the note, feeling his heart sink. “It doesn’t make any sense- I… what does this mean?”

“It means I might have to look closer than I thought,” you got up, going to the softboard glancing at the polaroids. “Where would I hide something I wouldn’t want to forget? In plain sight. I might have to look through my room again, and I think you should too.”

“But,” Hongjoong stood next to you with the note in his hand. “If we knew each other, why have we forgotten?”

“Ignorance is bliss,” you quoted. “I think we’re not supposed to remember each other for some strange reason.”

“And the biggest question- how did we forget? The both of us?” He sighed. “It just… doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s as confusing for you as it is for me,” you noticed a polaroid peeking from behind another photo- the only one not on display in the entire board. “But…” you said as you leaned forward and unpinned that photo, not expecting to see two familiar faces in the photo behind. “I… think we have concrete proof now.”

The photo was a selfie of Hongjoong in blue hair with you sporting bangs that you had some two or three years ago. Hongjoong looked at you in disbelief and then at the photo- it looked like he had a hard time processing all of this. He handed you the photo and muttered something about getting air, leaving you inside the cafe. 

You stared at the photo- it was taken at this very photobooth, and dated the same as the pictures Hongjoong had. Hongjoong and you were cheek to cheek, grinning like idiots. Idiots in love, you thought, smiling to yourself despite the absurdity of the situation. You turned the polaroid, not surprised to see your writing on it. 

“To the love that I may forget, I hope we find each other again. 

P.S.: Contact Lee Sunmi.”

The name sounded familiar and you wondered where you had heard of it before. You put the photo in your pocket and took your and Hongjoong’s stuff, placed your book back on the shelf and found Hongjoong sitting on a bench at the edge of the hill, wiping his face. You could understand how he felt- you had been entertaining so many possibilities for a while now, but he probably hadn’t thought it could be real- and the fact that he was involved in this and had forgotten you too…

You joined him on the bench, staring ahead at the sun setting. You let a few minutes of comfortable silence pass before you showed him the backside of the polaroid. 

“I knew you were familiar from the moment I saw you. I have never, ever opened up to someone in such a short amount of time as I did with you. And I think it’s because it was so easy,” Hongjoong said, “It was so easy being with you. As if I had known you for a long time.”

You nodded, scooting closer and then hesitating. “You can back out, Hongjoong. If you don’t want to learn the rest of the truth-”

“No- I want to. I want to remember you, y/n,” he looked at you, his hair falling over his eyes. “I want to know why I had to forget someone I loved. I want to know who it was that took me to Sector 7, who took me places I don’t remember going, who made me create music that I don’t remember composing. I want to know why I woke up one day and felt like something had been snatched from me.”

“You don’t know if you loved me, though,” you smiled. “You could have hated me.”

“I think I’m sure,” he smiled back, eyes glazed. “I wouldn’t be taking a picture this close with someone I hated,” he waved the photo and you laughed. 

“Well then,” you shivered as a cold crept up your spine. “Do you think us meeting again was fate or a planned coincidence?”

“I’d like to find that out, too,” he sighed, taking your hand. “I know it said ‘ignorance is bliss’ and we might be diving into something dangerous because let’s face it- who possesses the power to wipe memories? That’s insane and the only two things I can come up with are both realistic and bullshit.”

“The government, realistically, or something supernatural, which might be bullshit?” You asked.

“Exactly,” he took a deep breath. “You’re a writer. I’m a producer. Have we ever worked for the government?”

“Not that I know of…”

“And are we interesting enough to the supernatural?” Hongjoong made a ridiculous face. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe I am,” you pouted.

“Shut up,” Hongjoong laughed. “Either way, let’s explore the realistic option first, even though it might be less probable than a supernatural event…”

“Look who’s talking crazy,” you grinned. “You’re turning into me!”

“I need a detox day after this trip,” Hongjoong said and you elbowed him. “Who’s this Lee Sunmi anyway?”

“Let’s look into that first,” you said and he agreed.

—----------------------------

Everything had changed, yet it felt like you were fitting into each other like a puzzle long forgotten.

You both had decided not to tell any of your friends for two reasons- the obvious one being that the situation was unbelievably ridiculous, and second… the gnawing fear that they knew all along and were pretending.

You both had no idea who Lee Sunmi was and you couldn’t risk asking people so you decided to work this out at a tolerable pace- visit places together in hopes that you’d get your memory or fragments of it back, visiting each other’s place and going through old photos together- you were together in none of them.

Visiting Hongjoong’s apartment was an experience- it didn’t rock any memory nor did it feel familiar, but it was just a strange feeling visiting your boyfriend’s apartment for what was the first time but wasn’t really. He told you that he practically lived in his studio at the place he worked so you should probably visit that. 

For Hongjoong, he found your apartment unusually familiar. He hadn’t recalled much from his past, and he was afraid that his memories would get mixed up with what he would be conjuring up in his head now. He was relying more on you who often got dreams but you both decided not to believe everything you dreamt of. So when Hongjoong stepped in your apartment and nostalgia hit him like a truck, he had to pause and take a seat.

“I think I know what your room looks like,” he looked at you. 

“You could have just said you wanted to see my room, but that’s okay too,” you teased and he rolled his eyes, following you into your room. 

“I… expected it to be more coherent and organised, I’ll admit-”

“You’re not wrong,” you told him. “I woke up one day to this-” you motioned around. “Like, look at this,” you showed him the softboard which had a few notes of your current work in progress and a few photos. “I’ve always created patterns- in colours, or sizes, or shapes. This looks like I stuck things wherever I found space.”

“Something I would do,” Hongjoong grinned. “So that was your first clue that something was wrong? I would have dismissed it as being high.”

“Yes, that was my first concrete clue,” you glared at him. “And turns out I was right. I also have this draft here,” you pulled your chair and made Hongjoong sit on it in front of the pc while you opened the document standing near him. “The narration I told you about, practically hidden in plain sight. I have no memory of writing it- and no, I don’t write when I’m ‘high’.”

“I believe you,” he placed a hand around your waist casually to assure you, though it sent butterflies in your stomach. You took a breath before showing him the clues in the document. 

“It sounds like a plot for a crime novel, I know, but my life’s been starting to feel like that too. This is practically my villain origin story- I’m one step closer to losing it everyday.”

“Me too,” Hongjoong mumbled, skimming through it and frowning. “But this isn’t as unbelievable as it looks. I work in KQ entertainment, right? One of its subsidiaries had rumours of trainees going missing but there was never any concrete evidence to prove the case.”

“Really?” You frowned. “So if what I wrote is true, I was a spy hired to investigate that? But I’m not a spy, and even if I somehow managed to get that job, how come I forgot everything?”

Hongjoong shifted towards you, his hand travelling down your arm absently as he looked up at you. “If it was just one of us, it could have been an accident, but it’s the both of us, apparently. Which means, somehow I was involved. Was I a spy too? Were we rivals? Did you get close to me to access the industry-”

“Which is the plot of every other movie these days,” you laughed. “But I wouldn’t have been dumb enough to start an actual relationship with you if that was the case. I would have just seduced you-”

“Hey!”

“For a one night stand or something,” you laughed. “Come on. I wouldn’t make a dumb spy!”

“And how exactly would you have managed to seduce me?” Hongjoong’s voice was dangerously low as he asked, pulling you towards him and you put a hand on his shoulder to hold steady. “I’d like a demonstration.”

“I think you are easily seducible- you did approach me on the train first,” you teased.

“Yeah. I totally found your half sleeping figure the sexiest,” Hongjoong made a face and you slapped his shoulder, grinning. You trailed a finger along his face, from the temple down to the jaw, tracing it until you reached his chin and tilted it up, making him face you properly. 

“You were saying?” You asked, letting your finger trail down his throat, down to the collar to draw circles on whatever skin you could see. You met his eyes and found his eyes glazed with something unrecognisable and it was almost too much- god, the way he sometimes looked at you. You could feel your entire heart sinking into your stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tilted his face so he could stop looking at you but he held your hand. 

“Like what?” He pulled you over him, making you sit on his lap. “Like this?”

He was perfect. His black and white hair was the most perfect mess you had seen and you couldn’t resist the urge to run your hands through his hair, finding it incredibly soft. His hands found home at your waist and when he hooked his thumbs under your shirt, you shut your eyes for a second, relishing the feeling.

“You make me feel overwhelmed when you look at me like that,” you admitted. “Not in a bad way, not at all, but… it feels like-”

“I look at you like I’m in love, don’t I?” He asked, leaning into your touch as you caressed his face. “I look at you like I’m falling in love all over again. Because I am.”

“Hongjoong,” you almost groaned but he shook his head.

“You look at me like that sometimes too,” he kissed your palm. “Like you’ve known and loved me all your life. I love it when you look at me like that.”

You kissed him then, to tell him he was right. He was absolutely right- you had loved the blue haired boy even when you had forgotten him. And when you had met Hongjoong, you had felt like he was the one. His hands on your waist tightened as he kissed you back, slowly, trying to understand everything you were saying through the kiss. And when you broke the kiss, lingering before drawing back, Hongjoong was chuckling.

“I don’t think you’re capable of mere seduction, y/n. You’re capable of making people fall for you.”

“Are you saying I suck at seducing?” You challenged, pushing him back into the seat and surprising him before putting your arms around his neck and kissing him differently this time- more passionate, more hot, more rushed and Hongjoong’s hands travelling all over your body only fueled you into sitting right on top of him and moving to the rhythm of your kiss, grinding on him until he moaned into the kiss.

“What do you have to say now?” You broke the kiss, laughing but Hongjoong had picked you up, making you squeal. He placed you on the bed gently, a devilish calm in his eyes as he pushed you back, drawing on top of you ever slowly and trading open mouthed kisses before travelling down your neck and taking his sweet time, making you whimper but you couldn’t move. He had your wrists pinned on the sides.

“Hongjoong,” you groaned and he changed character, planting gentle kisses up your neck to your cheek.

“You good?” He asked.

“Never better,” you smiled and he smirked, drawing back to push his rolled sleeves back, licking his lips. 

“What am I gonna do with you, y/n?” He ran a hand through his hair, scanning you. 

“What are you gonna do?” You asked naively.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “What did the intelligence agency ever see in you to hire you as their spy?”

“Maybe I seduced my way there,” you joked and he laughed, putting a finger over your lips. 

“No more talk about seduction for the rest of the night,” he was right in front of you and found himself tracing your lips. You brought him closer for a kiss and soon you were on top of him, his hands under your shirt as you two made out, gasping into the kiss when he pushed himself on you, making you feel everything. You were going to take off your shirt when you paused, eyes widening in realisation.

“Hongjoong! The intelligence agency- Wonderland Intelligence Agency!”

“God, you scared me,” Hongjoong put his hands on his face. “What about it?”

“Lee Sunmi- I have a card somewhere,” you got up from top of him and started searching frantically around the room, leaving Hongjoong confused but he watched you in amusement as you tried searching for whatever business card you had.

“For someone so organised, you sure know where you put the business cards,” Hongjoong commented and you ignored him- where had you put it? You moved to the table and looked into the pencil holder, scoffing.

“Aha!” You waved it in front of him, walking back to the bed. “I found this in my pocket on our first date. Remember the woman we bumped into that day we went to the concert?”

Hongjoong looked at the business card. “How do you know it was her? I don’t remember her passing you this.”

“I’m guessing it’s her- I always put my hands in my pockets and I had empty ones when I left that day. When she went inside, she patted my shoulder like this. She must have slipped this inside then.”

“Wow,” Hongjoong sat up a little. “This does have her email, but can we contact her? Can we trust her?”

“She recognised us, didn’t she?” You asked him and he nodded slowly. “It sure looked like she did. She didn’t like seeing us together.”

“Yeah, I remember that. I say we should take the risk for some answers?”

“Not right now- I’ll need to do some research on your company,” you bit your lip. 

“Not my company, the subsidiary- they separated from us some two years ago, I think. That’s the last I heard of them.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, letting Hongjoong caress your hand as you processed all of this. “So let’s just… relax?”

Hongjoong laughed, pulling you closer, back on top of him. “I love it when your eyes light up like that- when you connect the dots.”

You went back to a memory- the blue haired Hongjoong caressing your hand, the two of you on what looked like a bus and he whispered something in your ear.

You smiled. “You’ve told me that before, Hongjoong.”

“Yeah, earlier?”

“No, before,” you kissed him. “You held my hand just like this and you told me that you loved it when my eyes lit up when I connected the dots.” You kissed him again, resting your forehead against his chest, half seated. 

Hongjoong was running his hand through your hair when he realised you were shaking. He squeezed your shoulders before drawing you back, wiping your silent tears. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath, feeling utterly broken in the moment, feeling like Hongjoong was holding all your broken pieces in his hands. “I don’t like this, Hongjoong. I don’t like it that I forgot you. I don’t want to know why I did- I feel like it’s going to be something that’s going to break us. It's been chasing me all day long, all night long- I feel so lost.”

“It’s okay,” he kissed your forehead, hugging you and rocking you back and forth. “I know what it feels like. But y/n… I feel like we won’t find peace until we find the truth, no matter how bitter it is. And I know we’d like to think that the past won’t affect us now, but it will. So let’s just enjoy what we have now, huh? If it’s too much, we can stop.”

“No, you’re right,” you sniffed, wiping your face. “I’m just afraid to lose you again.”

Hongjoong smiled at that, finding it unbelievable that you two didn’t remember losing each other but knew exactly how it felt like- in your hearts. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t,” he caressed your face. “I don’t think I can stay away from you no matter what the truth is.”

You let him kiss you then, throwing the card away- that could wait. For now, you were going to let Hongjoong make you forget about all your fears, make them dissolve with each kiss, each touch. 

—---------------------

Hongjoong regretted setting up a date to meet with Lee Sunmi.

Over the past few days, while he had been working on getting more information on the subsidiary company that went under investigation, called AG Entertainment, he had only found speculative articles on the internet about the missing trainees but nothing concrete. He was mostly letting you create theories about what could have happened but it wasn’t enough. And then one day, Seonghwa asked Hongjoong how his relationship was going.

Hongjoong had to do a double-take. It was a casual question, yes, but these days he was doubting everyone and everything.

“It’s… good. It’s great, actually,” Hongjoong laughed a bit. “You’ve met her a few times, right? Do you like her?”

Seonghwa had never been good at hiding his emotions and the way his eyes flashed, Hongjoong knew in his gut that he was aware of something. “Yeah, she’s…. Nice, I guess. A bit weird at times but we all are.”

“We all are,” Hongjoong agreed. “When I’m with her, it sometimes feels like I’ve known her for longer.”

Seonghwa raised a brow at that. “That’s… that must mean you’re good for each other.”

“She said she feels like it too- like she’s known me for a long time, like we’ve met before,” Hongjoong continued, watching Seonghwa fidget with the pen in his hand. “I suppose with some people, it’s like that, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Seonghwa agreed, getting up from the table. “I’m heading out to get some groceries. You’re working?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong watched him get his things and just when he was about to leave, he stopped him. 

“You won’t hide anything from me, right?” Hongjoong asked and he saw realisation cross across his face. “Just tell me if you’re hiding something from me. Because no matter what I think, I believe you wouldn’t hide it from me unless you had a big enough reason to. Bigger than our friendship.”

“That’s right,” Seonghwa patted Hongjoong’s shoulder. “I would only hide something from you if it meant more than our friendship.”

That was all the confirmation Hongjoong needed. He nodded, smiling in appreciation. “Thanks, Seonghwa. I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“I’m glad you trust me,” Seonghwa smiled back, nodding slowly as he processed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Hongjoong. I really do. It may be dangerous, but… I hope you do.”

With that, Seonghwa left and Hongjoong wondered just what he meant by that. 

And somehow, one thing led to another and he found himself in the same cafe that he went to, on his first date with you, now waiting for who was supposed to be an intelligence agent. He hadn’t dared to send a mail or anything, no. He just thought he would come and check if this was Lee Sunmi’s regular coffee stop.

It looked like it was. Just around that time in the evening when he was expecting her, she came dressed in a suit, and Hongjoong watched her get coffee. When she turned, she met eyes with Hongjoong, almost ignoring him until she saw that he was maintaining eye contact on purpose. Hongjoong raised his hand to confirm that he was waiting for her and he watched her sigh and look around before walking to him.

“This isn’t a safe spot to talk. Get in my car.”

“And I’m supposed to follow you?” Hongjoong asked and she smirked.

“You did wait for me. It’s up to you, Kim Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong shook his head at that, asking her to lead the way and she started driving. She let a few minutes pass before she asked what he wanted with her.

“First of all, why did you slip your card into y/n’s coat?”

“I saw you both together, after years,” Sunmi smiled. “I was quite shocked. It didn’t look like you both recognised me, though.”

“We didn’t,” Hongjoong confirmed. “What do you mean ‘after years’? When was the last time you saw us together?”

“A year ago,” she said, making a turn to the left.

“When was the first time you saw us together?”

“Two years ago,” she answered. 

“So are you going to tell me what this is about, or should I just ask questions?” Hongjoong asked, sighing as he slumped back, wondering how to steer this conversation. 

“Does y/n know you’re here, Hongjoong?” Sunmi asked and Hongjoong looked at her, not answering. “That means you must have recalled something that you couldn’t tell her.”

“I’m not actually sure if what I recall is a memory or just my imagination,” Hongjoong sighed. What he recalled a few days ago wasn’t a pretty memory. It was ugly, with a certain someone pointing a gun at him.

Sunmi drove to a park, stopping her car and reaching into the back to get some documents from her backseat pocket. “I started keeping this here in case I ran across one of you. It’s the ugly truth and how it started. I can give it to you, but… it’s not yours. It’s y/n’s truth. If I give it to you it will only create misunderstandings.”

“Then just tell me… how was I involved in all of this?”

That night, Hongjoong didn’t come home. Sunmi had assured her it wasn’t the whole truth and was just what the WIS, specifically her who was in charge of this case, could tell him without violating your privacy. To him, it was a bit too much to process. He sat in front of the river all night, arranging his thoughts.

Y/n. Writer. Spy. AG Entertainment. Human trafficking. Government involved. Hiding the truth. Memory wipe.

And all he could conclude was that he was involved because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

It was your mission. Only you had to forget- and only about the mission. Somehow, he had found out, which had created a mess. How did he know you? Did you really approach him because of your mission? Unfortunately, Sunmi did not have the answer for that.

The next day, when you woke up, you sighed when you checked your phone and Hongjoong hadn’t even read your messages. This wasn’t new, though. He had been a bit distant for a few days, and you wondered if it was just because he needed a break.

Or you feared that it could be because he recalled something bad. Because you knew whatever happened, it must have ended in a tragedy. If you and Hongjoong were in love, having to forget each other was a tragedy- and you still didn’t have the answers. 

You fiddled with the business card of the WIS agent. Could you contact her now? What would you even ask her? Would she even tell you, or would she make you forget everything again? Was this a test, her slipping the card so you would call her, so she could wipe your memories again? You had no idea. And with Hongjoong not responding to any of your messages from the past whole day, you were worried.

You asked Mingi for Seonghwa’s number and texted him if he knew where Hongjoong was, but his reply made you worry- he hadn’t been responding to him either, and he wasn’t at the studio yesterday. Apparently Seonghwa had stopped by Hongjoong’s place last night, but he wasn’t home and Seonghwa assumed that he was with you. 

You told him that you would stop by his place today. You still had time before you needed to clock in for work, so you made a stop at Hongjoong’s apartment, but he wasn’t there. 

“Just let me know if you’re safe. Seonghwa is worried too.”

With that, you went back home and absorbed yourself in your work, forgetting about everything for a while- maybe he was just taking a breather. It would be understandable.

That night, Seonghwa got a call from Hongjoong, asking if he could stop by his place. Seonghwa asked Hongjoong if he had let you know that he was alright, but he hadn’t. So with a text to you that Hongjoong was back home and presumably alright, Seonghwa stopped by his place with chicken and beer.

“Ah, just what I needed,” Hongjoong said when he opened the door and Seonghwa smiled. “Not you, obviously. The chicken and beer.”

“Right,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “You look like a mess.”

“I feel like shit, yes, thank you for noticing,” Hongjoong slumped down on the couch, watching Seonghwa set the table. When he was done, he looked up at him.

“Are we gonna talk?”

Hongjoong told him everything then- starting from the day he met you at the train to his meeting with the WIS agent. By the time he was done talking, Seonghwa had to take a few minutes himself. 

“I never thought it was that deep,” Seonghwa phew-ed. “But you’ve got most of it wrong, Hongjoong.”

“What do you mean?”

“With the story you have, you must believe y/n is the bad person here.”

“Well, she did point a gun at me,” Hongjoong shivered. “She threatened to kill Jaebeom too- you remember him. He was my supervisor at that time.”

“He worked with AG Entertainment, and if he was involved in the whole trafficking business… he must be in prison now.”

“Well then, her business was with him, right?” Hongjoong frowned. “Why involve me?”

“You really think she approached you on purpose?” Seonghwa scoffed. “Didn’t you say that agent saw you both together some two years ago? You and y/n first met more than three years ago, Hongjoong.”

Now that had Hongjoong’s full attention. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’m the one who introduced you to her, you fool,” Seonghwa threw a pillow at him and Hongjoong let it hit him. Was he hearing this right? 

“So you’re telling me,” Hongjoong shifted towards him fully. “That we might have known each other before that job?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa nodded. “The agent saw you two together two years ago. She didn’t tell you when she approached y/n, so there’s that. And since I introduced you both, I’m pretty sure she wanted nothing to do with musicians and producers at that time.”

“Wow,” Hongjoong sighed deeply. “How did we meet?”

Seonghwa smiled, telling him about the time Wooyoung hosted a party and invited a bunch of people from town. Knowing Wooyoung, half the sector was present. Wooyoung and you were high school classmates so that’s how Seonghwa got to know you, and while they had been chatting at the party, Seonghwa had introduced you to Hongjoong, knowing you two would get along. “I had no idea you two would get along that well. You both ditched the party and went ice skating or something. You came back with bruises but you were lovestruck.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, trying to wrack his brain for any sort of a flashback but he got none. He buried his head between his knees, sighing. “I just wish I can remember it all, Seonghwa. I feel it in my heart that I’ve loved her for a long time, yet… there’s also this sense of dread that’s stuck with me.”

“I think you didn’t know about y/n’s job, and you must have felt betrayed, that’s why,” Seonghwa thought. “Think about y/n too. If she got this job without knowing you were involved… she might have found herself in a situation with no way to get out. A number of possibilities and since your memory is coming back, I know you two will be fine and will sort things out. What I don’t understand, Hongjoong, is why the mind-wiping was necessary.”

“Sunmi only told me that it was because the government got directly involved, but I don’t know what that means,” Hongjoong looked up. “They could have signed a confidentiality agreement or something. Were we test subjects? Because I remember that the mind-wiping thing wasn’t an actual possibility until a few years ago.”

“That’s why I said it’s dangerous to dig,” Seonghwa started cleaning the table. “It’s fine if you stick with just finding out about your relationship without digging into the matter. What if they do something again?”

“Why did they not wipe your memory then? Or y/n’s friends?”

“Yunho and Mingi were studying in Sector 1 back then, so I’m not sure how much they know. It looks like they don’t know about you being her boyfriend but they’re aware y/n dated. As for me… I had to sign a confidentiality agreement with Ms. Lee. I wasn’t in the equation until I noticed how you forgot about y/n one day entirely. I noticed someone following you and somehow met with Ms. Lee who explained a bit and let me go because apparently, the situation had already gotten a bit out of control and she didn’t want to risk any more people. She also said that unless the memories came back naturally, which she hoped would happen soon, trying to force these memories might cause brain damage.”

“Wow,” Hongjoong blinked. “Brain damage. Just what I needed.”

“Hey,” Seonghwa slapped his arm. “Your memories are coming back naturally, so just relax.”

“I don’t know how to face y/n though,” Hongjoong hid his face in his hands. “I went behind her back because of that memory and met with Sunmi. We promised to share whatever memory we could recall, yet I couldn’t tell her this. And I don’t know if I’m sure about what happened between us.”

“Maybe, like Lee Sunmi said, you should talk it out with y/n and meet with the agent to get the documents on what happened. Then connect the dots.”

Hongjoong agreed but all he could think of right now was your smile fading when you would learn what he had done.

—---------------------

Two more days had passed with Hongjoong not showing up, only a text from Seonghwa to assure you that he was alright and just needed some time to himself, and the last thing you were expecting anymore was to find a package on the door that contained documents from Lee Sunmi.

Your first instinct was to tell Hongjoong, but you had some qualms about that now. You understood that Hongjoong needed space and you were almost sure he had recalled some memory which had caused the sudden rift between you two, which made you wonder just how bad it was. Well, if the government was involved, it must have been bad. 

You had recalled a lot of memories too in the past few days. You recalled meeting Hongjoong at a party where apparently, Seonghwa introduced you two. You remembered that party- it was more than three years ago. So you thought that there was a chance that Seonghwa knew about you two all along and Hongjoong had found out about it. It was why you let the boys have their space- perhaps they were sorting things out.

You also recalled the first time you saw Hongjoong at his workplace and you hid out of instinct- you hadn’t realised that he was involved in your mission. You hadn’t realised that AG and KQ Entertainment were connected- Hongjoong worked at KQ, and you had forgotten. You had gotten yourself in a mess. You remembered that now. 

So when you saw the document from Sunmi, you wondered if Hongjoong should be present. What if the truth was really, really ugly? What if, after learning everything, Hongjoong wouldn’t want to be with you anymore?

With that fear in your heart, you mustered up the courage to open the document and empty its contents- a letter, a file and a USB. you opened the letter first and read its content:

Hongjoong has learned his truth. It’s time that you learn yours. I’m sorry for all that went wrong with this mission, and I’m sorry for involving you both. I hope you and Hongjoong can learn the entire truth and learn from it, and find in your heart forgiveness and love. Sincerely, Sunmi.

Hongjoong had learned ‘his’ truth? Had he met with Sunmi? You scoffed in disbelief- he was avoiding you on purpose. You wondered what happened to the promise you two made about sharing each memory you would recall and going through this together. 

You decided to go through the file first- it had basic information on you, on why you were selected, what the mission was, and what exactly had happened. Surprisingly, it had no information on why Hongjoong was involved, and after reading the whole thing and going through the USB, heart pounding wildly as you went through everything that had something of Hongjoong in it- old video files, audio files, even Hongjoong’s data- after that, you didn’t need any more answers.

You remembered exactly what went wrong with that mission- and it wasn’t about the case you were investigating. It was about Hongjoong.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Your waking hours were all filled with your memories coming back, fragment by fragment, head throbbing crazily. You were so dizzy that you didn’t remember calling Seonghwa- you don’t know why you called him, but it felt like he was the only person you wouldn’t need to explain anything to. A few minutes later, you opened the door to Seonghwa. 

“Shit, y/n, you look like a mess.”

“I feel like shit, yes,” you confirmed, brushing your clothes, and he laughed to himself, recalling how Hongjoong had said the same things. “Do come in. Did you bring some painkillers?”

“You should eat something first,” Seonghwa looked around your house- he had been there before, but he wasn’t sure you recalled it yet. “If you have ramen, I can make some killer ramen.”

You agreed and watched him go through your kitchen like he knew exactly where everything was. “You know… I never told you where I lived, yet you knew exactly where to come. Pretty sure Hongjoong didn’t tell you my address.”

Seonghwa paused in the middle of cooking, looking back at you. “I don’t know. Maybe Yunho or Mingi did?”

“Come on, you can stop pretending like you don’t know me, Seonghwa,” you laughed out loud, crazily enough that he watched you the whole time until he was laughing along with you. “I don’t know why I forgot you- you were my friend. My… comfort buddy- is that what I called you?”

“Here to pick up both your and Hongjoong’s mess,” he shook his head, taking the ramen off the stove. “You really remember me?”

“We’ve known each other longer than I’ve known Hongjoong,” you said, spreading your arms and he came forward to hug you, rocking you like you remembered he always did. Then you slapped his back harshly, making him wince. “That’s for all that acting you did around me. 100 points for that. You should try a career in that.”

“I couldn’t risk damaging your brain,” Seonghwa pouted. “I’m sorry, though.”

“That’s okay,” you two sat at the table. “I’m sure it was hard for you too.”

“I missed you, I really did,” Seonghwa’s eyes were sincere and you didn’t doubt it. “When I saw you that day at my apartment, I thought you knew everything and came to kill me.”

You laughed. “I didn’t, but I felt like you were involved somehow too. Thanks for being there for Hongjoong though- is he okay?”

“Well… for the most part, yes,” Seonghwa urged you to eat. “Why did you call me?”

“You must remember Sunmi,” you asked and he nodded. “She sent me everything about the case. I remember… everything now, I think. There are some gaps but I have enough for now.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa whistled. “Hongjoong met with her.”

“I knew it,” you nodded. “What does he know?”

“I told him about how you two met,” Seonghwa said and you nodded. “He recalled the day everything went wrong- you pointing a gun at him.”

“Oh god,” you slumped back. “I need a drink.”

“No, you don’t,” Seonghwa scolded. “What exactly happened, y/n?”

“Can you call him here right now?” You asked and Seonghwa looked at you.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asked. “Do you want me to leave when he comes?”

“No, I want you to stay, because if you don’t, I might kill him,” you pursed your lips and Seonghwa frowned in confusion. “He’s the one who involved himself, Seonghwa. We were never supposed to forget about our relationship. He just came at the wrong place, wrong time, and he misunderstood everything. He didn’t let me explain anything. He went ahead and told Sunmi he knew everything about the mission, and they talked it through and he made the decision that he wanted to forget about me too. He decided he would forget about me, which meant I had no way of getting my memories back. He stole my choice, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa stopped eating, watching you finally break apart and bury your head in your arms as you cried your heart out. He let you be for a few moments before he went to sit next to you, rubbing your back. It all made sense to him now. He made you eat the rest of the noodles and take the medicine. 

“You need to sleep it over tonight, y/n,” he insisted. “We can all talk tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” you were dizzy after all the crying. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I can call Yunho and Mingi over too. They should know- they’ll help you out a lot, y/n, you really should tell them. They are your best friends, and they still think you made all of that up when you said you were dating.”

You laughed a bit at that. “Might as well have. I don’t know if I can handle telling them everything.”

“I’ll brief them,” he assured you and you nodded. “I’ll ask them to go easy with the questions- I’m sure they’ll have a lot of them.”

“Please,” you groaned, wiping your face. “Can you call them over then?”

Seonghwa nodded. It looked like you weren’t going to get to sleep any time soon. He called the two over, and made you sit in your room while he explained everything, but you felt a bit better so you joined them, letting Seonghwa do the talking. By the time he was done and you showed them the pictures of you and Hongjoong, they looked like they had learned that the world was ending tomorrow.

“I can understand, but at the same time… I got none of this, I’m sorry,” Mingi gave up, getting up and roaming around in the living room and you were almost amused. “First of all, whose genius idea was it to make her a government spy? She can’t even hide when she has a crush!”

“Hey!” You threw the nearest object- your lip balm- at him which he caught. “I did my job right!”

“She was hired because of connections, wasn’t she?” Yunho was going through your file. “Sunmi knew you from when you worked on your book.”

“Ah, no doubt,” Mingi sat down. “She isn’t spy material, just hired because of connections. That makes more sense.”

“She approached me because of the job, read that right,” you kicked Yunho’s leg. “It says my research capabilities from the time I wrote my political crime novel were noteworthy.”

“Whatever,” Yunho mumbled. “I’m going to need 5 business days to process this.”

“And I need 10,” Mingi sighed. “Why did your memories come back?”

“Two reasons,” you said. “Sunmi did a bad job intentionally- she messed with the numbers so her bosses can think it actually happened, but I guess she saved the day. She also thought Hongjoong was making a mistake, because my plan was to go through the mind wipe and have Hongjoong fill in the gaps for me. Sunmi told me I was going to have to forget Hongjoong since he was involved. I think she told me that on purpose- she didn’t like how the government was using us.”

“She’s an angel,” Seonghwa sighed. “Is she safe, though? If the government learns-”

“I think she has leverage,” you thought. “Which is why she sent me all of this. If the world learns that their political leaders were taking advantage of minors who went to AG Entertainment to become trainees… that’s going to destroy Wonderland.”

“I know what your next novel needs to be about,” Mingi scoffed and you shook your head furiously. “You should! It’s going to be like rubbing it on their faces.”

Somehow, the conversation got steered into jokes and teasing, and with that, you found yourself sleeping on the couch, Seonghwa dozed off on the other couch. Yunho and Mingi made sure to take some snaps before they decided to crash on your bed, messing up your room just to annoy you, which they would have an earful about the next day.

Later that day, Hongjoong agreed to meet you by the river- the same place he had gone to. He realised it might have a connection to you too. When he saw you, eyes a bit swollen but still looking pretty, he sighed internally before walking to you.

“Hey,” he pursed his lips, not knowing how to greet you.

“Hey yourself,” you scanned him. “You ghosted me for days.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, sitting next to you on the bench. “I shouldn’t have.”

“You shouldn’t have a lot of things, Hongjoong,” you started. “Are you ready to hear the whole truth? Or do you still believe what you know is the entire truth?”

That was a jab but Hongjoong thought he deserved it after all. And then he heard you out. How you had met Sunmi through your crime novel. How she made you a job offer that had none of the memory wiping in the contract. How you were supposed to befriend Jaebeom, the producer from AG Entertainment and get access into the building and investigate. It was when you and Hongjoong had dated for a year already. You had no idea how KQ and AG were connected, and Hongjoong hadn’t taken you to his studio yet. How he did take you to his studio and it was the first time you two had taken things so far.

“Do you remember that, Hongjoong?” You asked with a faint smile. “I always said you looked hot when you worked.”

“I remember that,” Hongjoong wiped his eyes. “You were so beautiful that day, y/n.”

“You were my first, and you were quite good at it, frankly,” you said and you two laughed for the old time’s sake. “I never knew studio sex could be this hot.”

“Please, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into,” Hongjoong laughed and you slapped his arm playfully. 

“I wish we only had these happy memories to remember,” you sighed after a few moments. “When I saw you at AG, do you have any idea how shocked I was? Do you have any idea what went through my head? All I could think of was what if you were involved? And then I slapped myself because I knew you, Kim Hongjoong. I knew, I believed you would never do something so disgusting.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” Hongjoong sighed, feeling guilt. 

“It was hard lying to you, but I passed you so many hints, hoping you would know what to do. It wasn’t supposed to go wrong in so many ways, Hongjoong. First, I found out the politicians were involved. And when my bosses found out, they struck a deal with the politicians. They decided to bury this under the rug, which meant I had to forget about everything that I worked on. The greater good, they said. I think it was also because they needed us to be lab rats for their latest memory wiper,” you mocked. “So what could I do? I decided to go along with it. I would have to forget you, I learned. I made sure I left something so I could recall my memories one day…”

“With me,” Hongjoong finished and you nodded. “You had prepared me for that day.”

“Yet…” you sighed. “I think it was my fault. It would have been too much for you. You couldn't possibly comprehend the whole situation- no one could have. But then one day, Jaebeom called me to AG, pissed to learn about what happened. And he called you too, knowing it would break us. He threatened to kill you if I didn’t make it, so I called Sunmi ahead. When I reached there, me and Jaebeom fought- I fought for my life, for yours-”

You hid your face in your hands, shaking as you recalled that night. The fear that had gone through your bones when he said he would hurt Hongjoong, his threatening voice- you could still feel it ringing in your head. Hongjoong was quick to scoot closer and put his arms around you, holding you as you tried to steady your breathing.

“I snatched the gun from him and pointed at him,” you sighed. “That’s when you came and misunderstood everything. You believed whatever shit Jaebeom spewed because he was the one defenceless, posing as the victim. I can’t get that look out of my head when I saw your trust in me break.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” Hongjoong squeezed your hand. “I remember that.”

“I don’t blame you, Hongjoong,” you shook your head. “You knew nothing about what was going on. Whatever I tried to explain to you at that moment, it must have gone over your head. And last night, I wanted to kill you after I learned the whole truth, honestly,” you laughed a bit. “But now… I don’t blame you. You did what you had to.”

“I was an ass, y/n,” Hongjoong shook his head. 

“You were,” you nodded, smiling. “You exposed yourself to Sunmi which meant she had no choice but to wipe your memories too. And you were so willing to wipe your memories of me. My last hope, gone, just like that. I woke up without knowing what to do. But I think we have suffered enough, the both of us, haven’t we?”

Hongjoong looked up, tears falling down from his face. “I… I really shouldn’t have done that. If you can believe me, I’ve been beating myself over it for the past few days.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But now… we know the whole truth. And I can understand if you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Why would I not? I can understand if you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore,” Hongjoong laughed nervously, wiping his eyes. “It was my fault, all of it.”

“It wasn’t any of our fault, let’s just blame the WIS for messing us up. I just don’t like how you didn’t trust me. Not then, not now. You went ahead and talked to Sunmi on your own. What does that say about us, Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong sighed deeply, getting up and you thought he was about to run away but then he was sitting on his knees, in front of you, holding your hands. “That time, and this time… it wasn’t you that I blamed. It was me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I recalled the memory of you pointing your gun at me, asking me to just listen to you. Even though the memory painted you as a villain, I knew, in my heart, that you meant no harm. Just like I knew at that time. I made the mistake of rushing to Sunmi, both the times. I learned what I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for that. I blamed myself for not being there for you. I felt like shit when I learned everything.”

“No, Hongjoong,” you cupped his face. “I should have told you from the beginning. I shouldn’t have used you like that. I understand now why you acted that way- if I was in your shoes, I’m pretty sure I would have done much worse. If you recall… I’m the more impulsive one.”

Hongjoong shook his head. “You’re only blaming yourself, aren’t you? We both messed up, y/n. Whatever happened simply wasn’t supposed to.”

You nodded. He continued. “I missed you so much. You’ve been my best friend, my everything for so long. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

“No,” you cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I should have done better, I-”

“Don't blame yourself, please,” Hongjoong got up, making you stand so he could hug you. It was like you were in the past at that moment. “I don’t want to see you in pain anymore.”

You hugged Hongjoong back, wrapping your arms around his waist and before you two knew it, you were both crying into the hug. Crying for all the memories you forgot. For the ones you recalled. For the ones that might be lost forever. When you drew back, Hongjoong wiped your face and kissed your forehead.

“I can understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore,” Hongjoong looked like he was in actual pain as he said that. “I’ve broken your trust. I’ve let you down.”

You scanned his face. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

You took him home and showed him the files and then the USB which had all of your digital memories stored. You both spent the whole night recalling everything, just like old friends, eating ice cream through the bucket, filling the memory gaps for each other. Hongjoong had most of his memories back too.

“I heard from Seonghwa how he told you about the first time we met,” you smiled, searching through the files again and opening the photo of you and Hongjoong wearing ice skates, clinging on to each other for support. “We ditched the party and messed around all night.”

“I’ve never done that,” Hongjoong laughed. “I rarely go to parties. I think going to that party was the best decision I made in my whole life.”

“And I rarely ditch the party with a random stranger and stay out until dawn,” you countered, smiling. “The 3 am hour does something to us, doesn’t it?”

“Our first kiss,” Hongjoong smiled. “We decided to try being friends first because we both believed the 3 am hours make us do weird things, but…”

“We really sucked at staying friends,” you laughed, pushing your hair back as you looked at him- you were sitting across each other on the couch, the laptop on the table. “Do you think we could stay friends now if we tried?”

“I think you think that I can’t keep my hands off of you,” Hongjoong raised a brow.

“I know for a fact that I can’t,” you looked at the clock. “Gosh, it's 3 am again.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Should we really be making such decisions at 3 am?”

“I don’t know,” you pouted. “I say fuck it-”

Hongjoong was quick to climb across the couch and capture your mouth in a kiss, drawing back to check if it was okay with you. You pushed him back, showing him the ice cream bucket still in your hands, placed it on the table and cupped his face, kissing him back, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist as he brought you on top of him. The intensity of the kiss was different, this time with those long forgotten memories and emotions resurfacing, trying to hold yourselves together, trying not to break apart because what happened to you two was sad. 

When you did draw apart for breath, you hugged him, burying your nose in the crook of his neck. “I don’t want to forget you ever again, Kim Hongjoong. You’re the only one for me.”

Hongjoong groaned in relief. “I’m glad… I’m glad that you forgive me.”

You drew apart, slapping his arm. “I still think you can be a major ass, but… I think we can work this out. What do you think?”

Hongjoong tucked your hair behind your ears, caressing your face lovingly. “I think… I think we were meant to be with each other, really. After all, we found each other again, didn’t we? On a train from Sector 1, of all the places!”

You smiled. “Does that mean we are meant to be?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong smiled. “Shall we try and find out?”

You kissed him as your answer. You could definitely try again.

[unreliablesnake]

Animals - part 4 (Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader)

Summary: You turn to the Military Police to get help against Simon, but this move only enrages him. Things take a tragic turn after his visit.

Note: I didn’t like writing this at all. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Warnings: afab!reader, toxic!Simon, dark!Simon, r*pe, character death. If you’re triggered by any of this or you’re a minor, DON’T READ IT!!!

“What the fuck were you thinking, Simon?” Price yelled when the lieutenant closed the front door behind him. “Attempted rape? Harassment? Stalking? Were you even using your brain when you did these things?”

Ghost let out a groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the back of the couch. “She told you, I guess.” The captain nodded. “That’s her side of the story, I hope you don’t believe everything she came up with.”

“I talked to the staff of the inn where she and Soap hid from you, and the receptionist confirmed that you were there, making a scene by insisting on them still being in the building. This also means you really did track her phone.”

“I just… I didn’t want her to do anything stupid, like jumping into a relationship with Soap because she’s a little confused about her feelings for me.”

“She doesn’t love you,” Price pointed out as he watched the other man. “She’s terrified of you.”

The lieutenant tilted his head to the side and gave him a disappointed look. “Come on, John, don’t buy that crap. We aren’t on the best of terms at work, I admit that, but she wouldn’t have slept with me if she didn’t feel anything about me.”

“She did what?”

“See? I thought she would miss that little part out,” he noted dryly. “She didn’t complain about that to me.” And he was right, he knew that, mostly because you were such a good little girl for him, doing everything he said. When he left, you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, looking everything but upset.

“It only happened once?” Ghost nodded. “Look, okay, you had her consent one time, but what about the last mission? I heard what you did, and she definitely didn’t consent at that time.”

He rolled his eyes at this. “Nothing happened.”

“Because Soap arrived to tell you that I wanted to see you,” Price pointed out.

“You think I’m lying?” he asked, offended by even the idea of it. “We were just talking. Okay, maybe I kissed her, but she returned it,” he added.

“That’s not what she said.”

Ghost let out a frustrated huff as he stood straight and gave his superior an expectant look. “Fucking hell, John, this conversation is going nowhere. Do they have any evidence against me?” he asked, genuinely interested.

But Price only shook his head at this with arms folded over his chest defensively. “It’s not my job to know what they do or don’t have against you. And even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” he added with a pointed look.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to hear what you had to say about this issue.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, she’s just making shit up because she hates to admit that she wants me as well,” Ghost explained. “Are you happy? Are we done?”

“We’re done.”

Once Price left, his mind immediately turned to the possible evidence that could be in his home, starting with the drive with those precious photos and videos of you. He hated the idea of getting rid of it, but there was no other choice. He also had to reset his phone, deleting every sign of the tracking app he used to keep an eye on you.

••••••••

You looked at Soap when you let Price into the building, tense from all of the possibilities of how his conversation with Ghost went. You knew he was good at convincing people, what if he could make Price take his side in this?

The moment he entered the apartment, Soap folded his arms over his chest and asked, “So? How did it go?”

Price let out a sigh as he took off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair. He looked tired and at least ten years older now. Whatever had happened, it certainly took its toll on him. “He denied everything. For some reason he’s convinced that you’re only confused about your feelings, but deep down you know you should be together,” he explained.

When he saw your reaction out of the corner of his eye, Soap put a hand around your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “He’s delusional,” he noted.

Nodding, Price sat on the couch and rested his fists on his thighs as he watched you. “This is definitely not the Simon Riley I used to know.”

“Maybe he just needs professional help,” you suggested, surprising even yourself with your sudden wave of kindness and understanding. “Maybe I shouldn’t go through with the plan.”

“Hey, don’t say that. After everything you went through, he has to be punished,” Soap told you.

“You’re right, Soap, but don’t forget that she will have to testify against him,” Price pointed out. “She has to be ready for that. She has to be ready to face him.”

You didn’t want to see him ever again. He was mad at you, why wouldn’t he be, and if he knew your new number, and if you hadn’t deleted all of your social media accounts, he would definitely keep harassing you. You were surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door yet, ready to get revenge for you turning to the Military Police with this.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Soap was tense, probably already disappointed that you were hesitating. He had been by your side from the moment you had asked for his help, and you knew he would stay until the very end. He would support you while the trial lasted, giving you the strength to face Ghost.

“I hope if we go on our next mission, he won’t be there,” you said quietly, glancing over at Price from under your eyelashes.

The captain shook his head. “Of course I won’t let him near the team. But you’re staying here as well.”

“What? No, that’s the only place where I would feel safe,” you told him on the verge of a panic attack. “You can’t do this to me, you can’t expect me to stay here alone when he’s in the same city as me.”

“But you’re under way too much stress, you couldn’t focus on your job properly. The last thing I need is you or anyone else getting hurt because of a mistake,” came the reply.

He was right. You didn’t want to admit it, but Price had every right to feel this way about your return. But you couldn’t get yourself to say it out loud, and instead it was Soap who spoke up. “He’s right,” he said quietly, giving you a sympathetic look. “And I don’t think Ghost would sabotage himself by coming here when he’s under investigation.”

Price nodded and you let out a sigh. “All right.”

In the next week or so Soap remained by your side, but then he had to leave and you were left alone. It was hard to be in the apartment on your own, constantly terrified of the idea of Ghost showing up. Because he was insane, it was quite clear, and who knew how far he was willing to go to get what he wanted.

You barely left your apartment, grocery shopping was usually done online so you could stay at home, and when your neighbors knocked on your door to ask you about that man who had had so many questions about your whereabouts, you simply ignored them.

Soap regularly sent you messages to find out how you were, and even Price and Gaz sent you supportive texts every now and then. Knowing there were people out there who cared about your wellbeing made you feel better, and days passed faster thanks to them.

But before they could return from deployment, you were awakened by a loud banging on your door. You got up from the couch and took a few hesitant steps in that direction, carefully listening as if you couldn’t already guess it was him.

“Open the fucking door,” he growled, his angry tone making you gulp.

This was exactly what you had been afraid of, him showing up to get revenge for everything that had been happening lately. Shaking your head to snap out of it, you ran to the coffee table for your phone and immediately dialed Soap’s number. He didn’t answer, and your call went to voicemail in the end.

“Soap, it’s me. Ghost is here. I–I don’t think he knows I’m at home so he might go away, but if I don’t send you a message that I’m okay, call the police please.”

You weren’t lying, he didn’t know you were there. The television was off, you weren’t listening to music, there was absolutely nothing that could have given away that you were at home. As far as you knew, even your neighbors were at work, so it wasn’t possible that he had begun this visit by asking around.

Then you heard a clicking sound and the door began to open up, revealing the lieutenant’s giant frame. “H–How do you have a key?” you asked weakly.

Ghost closed the door with a grin as he pulled down the mask he wore over the bottom half of his face. “I found it when I was last inside this place.”

It must have been your spare key from the drawer of your desk. He had been alone in your apartment after the one and only time you had sex, after all he sneaked out while you were asleep. Fuck. “Leave or I’ll call the police,” you hissed.

“You can’t really think I’ll just leave you here. After all the shit you’ve put me through lately.”

“The shit I put you through? Ghost, you’ve been harassing me for a long time now, you have to face the consequences!”

Ghost bit on his lower lip as he watched you, his eyes darker all of a sudden. Every single cell in your body was screaming at you to make you run, but when you wanted to obey your instincts, your body gave in. You were frozen by fear and there was nothing you could do about it.

It should be easy, you could do it. You just had to run past him and you would be at the door in a second or two. After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you began to run, hoping this would take him off guard.

But he was expecting this because he simply held out his arm and caught you by your waist. “Where are you running, sweetheart? I’m not done yet,” he whispered menacingly as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a zip tie.

Whispering weak pleads to get him to stop, to let you go, you soon realized that Ghost was not about to give up. He tied your wrists behind your back, and when you began to cry louder, begging him to think it through before doing anything, he pulled out a ball gag and put it on you.

He was prepared. What was happening now was all part of his plan. He didn’t come here to talk, he didn’t want to set things straight. No. He wanted to punish you, it was that simple. For a while he was only watching you, probably enjoying the sight of you being tied up and gagged.

After he was done admiring you, Ghost put a hand on your waist and began to push you towards the bedroom. Panic quickly filled your mind, knowing full well from the look in his eyes what was about to come. How could he be this crazy? Whatever had happened to him that made him snap like that?

Ghost suddenly pulled out a knife and began to cut up the front of your shirt with it. You didn’t feel safe at all. What could’ve been exciting and even sexy in the company of someone you trusted felt like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. Tears were running down your cheeks but it didn’t seem to bother him, in fact, he looked rather proud of himself for turning you into this whimpering mess.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t look this sad. You’re gonna enjoy it, trust me,” he cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Once he removed your sweatpants and panties with one confident move, he turned you around and pushed you face-first into the mattress. He then began to move your body as if you were some doll he could fold however he wanted, making sure your ass was up in the air for him. You could feel his warm breath on your cunt, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You didn’t want this, you wished the police would arrive and help you, but something told you help wasn’t coming. You were on your own, tied, and gagged, and at the mercy of this man. When he let his tongue disappear between your folds, you began to cry even harder, your body squirming to get him to stop.

But he didn’t care, he just slapped your ass so hard you knew it would leave a red mark behind. “Stay still, love, it would be better for the both of us if you just calmed down. Try to relax. You’ll enjoy this, trust me,” he said, repeating his previous words.

Without a warning he pushed two fingers inside of you, furiously pumping as he tried to chase you to an orgasm, his other hand rubbing your clit to make the process even faster. Then another finger joined the first two, stretching you even further, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly despite your brain trying to stop your body from reacting like this.

“That’s it baby, I can feel that you’re close,” he growled before placing a kiss on your thigh. “Come on, cum on my fingers, let me taste you again.”

And you did, you came on his hand like an obedient slut, your body going limp as he kept fucking you with his fingers. It felt good, and this thought made you feel disgusted. How could you like it when he was literally raping you? You didn’t consent, you didn’t even let him inside your apartment, yet here you were, naked and helpless.

You were snapped back to reality when you felt the head of his massive cock tease your entrance, dipping in a little for a moment before pulling out. “I wish I didn’t have to gag you,” he said as he put his palm on your back and pushed you down. “It was nice to listen to you while I fucked you the last time. But you’re a bad little girl, you can’t keep your mouth shut when you should.”

Suddenly you felt him slam his entire length into you, the move making your eyes roll back into your head from the pain. With a groan he tightened his grip on your hips and fucked you as if you were nothing more but a fleshlight. He was enjoying this way too much, and the guttural sounds and raspy moans leaving his throat made you feel nauseous.

He kept calling you a good little whore as one of his hands moved to your stomach and he pulled you up against his chest. “I wish I could put your hand on your belly so you could feel me move inside of you,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your shoulder.

You tried to turn off your brain, tried to ignore the way he abused you, but it was impossible to get him out of your mind. Your body had once again betrayed you, causing your cunt to tighten around his member as you were close to another orgasm. He kept talking to you, but you didn’t listen, you had no idea what he was saying. All you could focus on was the familiar feeling in your core, pushing you close to the edge.

You came four times in total before he finally stopped, although he didn’t pull out, instead he slowly fucked his cum back into your cunt. He told you how proud he was, what a good little slut you were for him, but he didn’t say anything about letting you go. Even as he was wiping your tears away, he kept talking about the next day, about how you’ll beg him to fuck you eventually, and how it was just the two of you from now on.

“If I take this off,” he began, pointing at the ball gag, “will you be a good girl and stay quiet?” You nodded. At this point you would have promised anything to get rid of it. “All right, let’s see if you can keep your word.”

The plan was simple. You play by his rules, stay quiet, then the moment he goes to the bathroom–because at one point he has to go out–you make a run for it.

Once your mouth was free again, Ghost leaned in to kiss you, tongue soon gliding over your lower lip to get you to open up for him. You had no choice but to return the kiss, feeling like throwing up the whole time. This was disgusting and sick and twisted, but for some reason he thought it was perfectly normal.

After some time the silence of the apartment was broken by your phone’s ringtone. You told Ghost to ignore it, hoping if the caller didn’t get a response they would send help, but he was quick to go out to the living room and check who it was. It didn’t take long to find out Soap was the one calling. The lieutenant was angry, really angry, and he almost smashed your phone against the wall.

“Tell him to stop calling,” he ordered after it began to ring for the third time. “Tell him everything’s okay and that he can stop calling you. But if you dare to say anything more… I guess you already know.”

Nodding, you waited for him to accept the call, put it on speaker, and hold the device closer to you. “Soap?” you asked hoarsely.

“Finally! Is he gone?” came his eager question.

You took a deep breath then gulped. “Everything’s fine, no need to worry.”

“Is he gone? Yes or no?”

It was hard to answer this. Every cell in your body was protesting against lying to him, you wanted to tell him the truth, that Ghost was still there with you. What’s the worst that could happen if you were honest with Soap? He fucks you again? If it meant help would come, at least you would know it would end soon.

So you took a deep breath and said, “He’s still here. I need help. Call the police, please!”

“Fuck,” said both men at the same time.

While Soap was yelling at his higher up over the phone to make him come to his senses, telling him he was calling the police as you’d asked, Ghost threw the phone on the bed and wrapped his hands tightly around your neck to strangle you.

He pushed you into the bed as he choked you, hell-bent on killing you apparently. You tried to tell Soap that he should hurry up, tried to ask Ghost to stop, but no voice left your throat. You were soon losing consciousness, falling in and out of the darkness.

••••••••

He checked several times but you had no pulse. Ghost put his hands on the back of his neck and kept telling himself this wasn’t happening. He didn’t want to hurt you, this wasn’t a part of his plan.

But when you had told Soap that you needed help, he lost it. There was nothing he could have done, his emotions got the best of him.

If the sergeant called the police, they could be there any second. He picked up your phone and unlocked it to check how long it had been since that conversation. Four minutes. He still had time to get out of your apartment. Yes, that’s what he was supposed to do now.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. How could he be this stupid? How could he be this irresponsible? He should have expected you to misbehave, he shouldn’t have taken the ball gag off. “Fuck!” he cursed loudly.

“Hands in the air!” he suddenly heard a voice say behind him.

It was too late. How could he not hear the sirens? With a sigh, he raised his hands and slowly stood up. There was nowhere to run. But where would he go anyway? He killed you, he killed the only good thing in his life.

He was truly the monster you’d been so afraid of all along.