#and I just had a weird deja vu kind of moment so I think that’s my cue to go shower and probably sleep to let my brain relax

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Loop

I woke up with a start.

My head was killing me. What did I get up to last night? I was supposed to just hang out with a buddy of mine. But there is no way this is his place. For one, the room around me is bare. Just grey carpet and white walls. I mean, he’s no designer but I would at least expect a lamp or a tv or a dresser. Something. I start to get out of bed when I notice myself. I am nearly nude, stripped down to an unfamiliar jockstrap. Definitely not a good look for me. It’s kind of tight and I am quickly growing self conscious of my body on full display. What is going on? I start to look for my buddy, but quickly realize there isn’t any door to the room I am in. The barren walls leave no means of escape. Panic sets in. I begin shouting for help, searching for any hidden means of escape. The headache is only intensifying, and before too long I am sat back in the bed.

I try to remember the night before. I had been out with some buddies downtown, we had gone to a new bar none of us had been to…what was it called? I don’t know, something that probably should have clued me in that it was a gay bar. I knew the two other guys swung both ways but I was uncomfortable the whole night over in the corner. Some guy came up to me though, what was his name? N… started with an n. Suddenly, the lights in the room go out. A strange sound begins to play, as my headache vanishes in an instant. As colored lights fill my vision, I feel as though I am falling through the air. I am aware of each moment that passes as I pass into nothingness. Then, everything goes black…

I am usually not a dreamer, and when I am they are quite simple. But something was different that night. I dreamt that night of a vast sky and a falling forest. I was surrounded by animals and trees, plummeting towards a ground that did not exist. I tried to explore the sky, but could not find a place to land. What I did find was a bear. A beast of the forest. I watched its magnificent fur streak through the sky. Suddenly, it turned its attention on me, and pounced.

I woke up with a start.

My head was pounding. Man, what happened? I scratch my face and look around. I kept scratching. My stubble was irritated, I should make sure not to cut it so close to the skin. Around me was just a bare room. No windows, no doors, nothing. I got up to look around, nearly falling over as I did so. It was so strange. I felt like somehow I was taller than I was before and- AHH- headache was hitting. I sat back down on the bed. As I try to relax, I take stock of myself. It’s only then that I notice what I am wearing. Or rather, what I am not. Only a jockstrap hangs loosely around my waist, the rest of my body is on full display. I feel a bit self conscious about showing off so much of my lanky body, so I wrap up in the blanket on the bed. I sit and try to recall what happened last night. I had been trying to go… somewhere. With… Nick, maybe? But I don’t know why, I don’t think I knew him. He wrapped his arm around me and I just felt safe. God, everything was an absolute blur. Without any other options, I shout out for someone, anyone to give me some help. And the room seems to respond. In an instant, the lights go out and a sound that I can’t quite place but seems somehow familiar fills the room. Then, the lights go harsh, blinding me as I hear a faint hiss all around me. A sweet smelling gas hits my nose, and I am falling down, down, down…

I dream that night of food and the gym, a cacophony of metal plates and frying meats. The dream feels heavy. There is resistance and strain to lift every well-earned bite to my mouth. All the while, a sweet smell wafts through the scenes, one that drives me to push harder and eat a little bit more.

I woke up with a start.

My body and head were aching. What happened last night? I looked around the room and felt a strange feeling of deja vu. This was, like, so weird. As I moved to get up, my body felt sluggish and bloated. Looking down, nothing seems out of the ordinary. I flex a little to feel my fat pecs and biceps swell. Yeah dude, this pump is pretty sick, even for the day after… after… after what? Suddenly, a migraine hits like a bus. Fuck, I’ve got to turn down the lights in here. I fumble around trying to find the switch, but I notice that the walls are bare. No light switch, no door, not even a closet. Damn, really wanted to put something on other than this jock strap… wait, what jock strap? I feel my bare body and the skin tight jock trying to hold back my cock. As I brush against it, it begins to come to life. It feels so sensitive as I gently run my hands over it, but as it continues to swell a thought enters my mind: this is all wrong. The jock, this dick, the room, my body. What is happen-AUGH! I hold my head as I fall to the floor in pain. My mind is being bombarded with conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure as my now throbbing member shoots through the pain with insatiable lust. My mind is trying to grab for memories that aren’t there. Memories of this room and how I ended up here. Memories of friends and family who I know must be there but I can’t quite picture their faces. Memories of why I feel so strange in this large, bulky… awkward… strong… sensitive body. I let myself feel my chest and rub my perky nips. All I can remember is a man’s face, pulling me into this room. As I continue to rub with my thumbs, swirling fur between my thumb and chest, the pain begins to subside. God, they’re just as sensitive as my cock now. Continuing to rub with my left hand, I move my right down to my dick as I rub the first drops of pre around my fat mushroom tip. A faint moan escaped my lips. The rest may feel wrong but this feels so right. I am forced to release all inhibitions about what may be happening. This feels sooo good I can’t focus on anything but my own body. I am about to start stroking when the lights begin to flicker. Not again!… again? I feel something curl around my left arm, holding it in place, then my right. They lift me over to the bed, where I am then locked in by my ankles. I try to fight back, pull myself out of whatever contraption I’m in, but to no avail. A helmet is coming down from the ceiling, locking my head in place and obscuring my vision. A prick at the base of my neck turns my body limp in an instant. A screen in front of me flickers to life, and the patterns it plays are so… strangely… soothing. My mind lowers resistance as I feel myself falling down… down….. down.

I have strange dreams like I never have before. Dreams of flashing lights and pulsing music. Bodies that morph and swell. Hair and sweat and muscle mingle together in a cloud of lust and musk. Years passed by in that place. Somehow I feel at home.

I woke up with a start.

My head was throbbing, begging for my attention. What was I up to last night that left it this excited? My balls were heavy and aching. I knew that if I didn’t get some relief now, it would just be a distraction all day. I reached down and pulled my pipe out of my damp jock strap. A heady scent wafted up from the soiled pouch. My cock was already slick with pre, so I slowly began rubbing my hands over my plump, mushroom tip and girthy member. It wasn’t long before I was pumping with one hand while rubbing the other up and down my pelt of fur. I found a rhythm, some short thrusts while twisting one of my nips, that was driving me wild this morning. It was not long before I busted a nut, shooting my load over my broad torso. I relished the sensation of rubbing my cum into the forest of fur on my belly. Satisfied, I got up, and walked over to the corner of the room where a fresh tank top and jeans were laid out. I slipped them on, feeling them hug my curves and fur and muscle, sat down, and waited

It wasn’t long before my helmet dropped down. I carefully pulled it on and strapped it in place. It was so safe and calm in my helmet. So perfect. As it whirled to life, I gazed eagerly into the colors and listened intently to the strange sounds. I felt a tickle move through my spine as my muscles relaxed and flexed, relaxed and flexed, growing by command. I couldn’t help it as my eyes went cross as my memories stretched and changed like putty. I remembered playing the circuit party scene, partying hard and fucking harder. I remembered cruising through my twenties, playing the apps in my thirties, all to end up with my partner now, Nicholas. He was my world, my joy, my play thing. We dated for years before I proposed in 2015. And now here we are, years later, and it was as though I was falling in love with him for the first time. But my libido was being raised through the roof, and my tender love was turning to lust. I needed him, legs up, ass lubed now. The thought of his mouth working magic on my shaft was driving me wild.

I didn’t even notice when the helmet has pulled away, I was lost in my fantasies. Until he spoke.

“You just gonna sit there babe?”

My beautiful boy was laying across the room from me. In an instant nothing else mattered, I dove across the room to feel his soft lips.

He grunted his approval, “Fuck, look at you!” He ran his hand through my fur. I flexed my biceps for him so he could feel my muscles. He playfully grabbed my nips and twisted, a moan escaping my mouth before I grabbed him,

“You aren’t supposed to do that without permission,” I growled.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, “oh like you don’t love it.” He made another grab but, this time I caught his wrists and pinned him down under my weight,

“Try that again and it’s a rough night for you. I don’t have to give you what you want.” I rubbed my crotch against his.

His eyes went big and sad, his signature puppy dog eyes. “Please, I’ll behave,” he said before giving me a wink. He knew I couldn’t say no to him.

I pulled back and ripped off my tank top. I let him kiss my torso as I unzipped and pulled off my jeans. It felt so right to be here with him. I couldn’t imagine life any other way. I grabbed the lube and rubbed it generously over my shaft before I flipped Nick over.

“Ass up, boy. Daddy’s coming home.”

[writers-potion]

Hi I really love all the writing tips you give! I'm a fanfic writer myself and your tips have helped me out so much with writing <3 I was wondering if you had any tips on how to write any kind of flashback scenes? Like ways to lead up to it or where a character is like having a headache and then BOOM they get a glimpse of a flashback or something. I struggle so much with this ;-;

Ideas for Flashback Scenes

Hey there! Thanks for the question! Since flashbacks are about reminding a character of a memory they haven't been thinking about, here are some ideas for triggering a memory!

Hinge on an Object/Person

Coming across an object or person from the past can call a dusty memory to the forefront. 

Maybe your character is going through the attic or clearing out an unused shelf. It can be a friend returning an item that they’d lost. 

Dreaming/Semi-Dreaming

A dream is a product of taking snippets from our actual life and putting them together in weird ways. A character may dream about something in the past, wake up, then recall the memory more clearly, using the dream snippet as the starting point.

Similarly, they may dream briefly as they doze off, then wake up to have a “fuller” flashback. 

Deja-Vu

A deja-vu would be most natural if the memory being recalled is set somewhere the character goes to on a day-to-day basis (like the supermarket or the cobbled walkway in front of their house, etc.)

A repeated action (cashier checking out items), a familiar scenery, or a familiar sound will trigger a similar memory, maybe even set in the same location. 

Mid-Conversation/Trigger Words 

Certain words or voices can be triggers of memory. You can have a moment where the character pauses for a moment to think, “wait, I think I’ve heard that phrase somewhere…” 

The other character asking them a question can also trigger a memory in the process of trying to come up with an answer. 

Trigger words can appear on road signs or on book covers, etc. You can try describing the font/color of the word and link it to a snapshot of the memory being recalled. 

The "Aha!" Moment 

This is where the character is doing essentially nothing (like standing in the shower, staring off into the ceiling, etc). It can even be when they’ve lied down trying to sleep, when something suddenly just jumps into mind. 

Provide some context through internal dialogue, where the character is either thinking about something that they’re worried about or an event that left an impression on them that day, etc. 

Being in Danger/Near-Death Moments

This is similar to how a character’s life plays out before their eyes right before they die. 

When a character is in danger, their brains will start firing in ways that it usually wouldn’t, triggering a flashback. 

A flashback can be induced by shock, a loud bang, explosion, etc. when the character goes momentarily numb. 

Flashback Under Intoxication

If your character is drunk, on drugs, or taking medication that impacts their cognitive abilities, they may start triggering memories that have long been buried. 

However, the flashback scene in this case will have some unusual aspects, and will be prone to being warped or even fabricated in some parts.

[steddiewithachance]

"Likewise"

(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)

Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie

Read on ao3 here

*

Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.

Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.

This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"

And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.

Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.

It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.

Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.

"Steve." He hears in response.

When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.

"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.

"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.

"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.

Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.

Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.

"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.

"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"

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

1977

When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.

He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.

He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.

Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.

"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.

"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.

"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."

"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"

"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.

"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.

"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.

Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.

Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.

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

"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.

"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."

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

"Hi Paul."

"Hey kid."

Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.

"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."

Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"

"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.

"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.

"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.

"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"

And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.

"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.

"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.

"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.

"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.

Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.

"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.

*

Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.

Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.

"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.

"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"

Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.

"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.

"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.

*

It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.

Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.

Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.

"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."

"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.

"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.

"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."

The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.

Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.

"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.

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

"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.

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

"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.

Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.

"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.

The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.

*

Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.

"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.

And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.

"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.

"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.

"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.

"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.

"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.

He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.

"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.

Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.

Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.

"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.

"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Down the hall to your left."

*

When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.

"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.

"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.

"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.

"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.

"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"

"No! I don't want to take your bed-"

"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.

"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.

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

"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.

"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.

"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."

"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.

"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"

"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.

"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.

"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.

"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.

"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.

"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"

Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.

"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.

"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.

"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."

"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"

[jerreeeeeee]

It was only a blur. A flash of a face. A familiar silhouette. The way the man moved as he walked away down the street. Barry almost hesitated, almost didn't turn around. It was hard to see in the waning evening light, and he could nearly remember someone teasing him about his bad eyes. A voice he couldn't hear. It slipped from his mind as soon as he tried to grasp it.

The man went into a tavern. Barry followed him. It was a loud and crowded place, swanky, not what he would've chosen. There was a big stone hearth with a roaring fire that lit the place warmly, a nicely polished bar, tables full of people. There was a pool table in the back, in a way that made a kind of sense to him, even though he didn't know why it felt right, like weird, comforting, and deeply unsettling deja vu. The man he was following hadn't gone back there yet, but he was eyeing it from his seat. Barry went to the bar, put down the gold for a room and a drink, and before he could think better of it, sat right next to him.

The man hardly spared him a glance, focused on tearing apart the meal in front of him. He ate like he was starving. Barry tried not to stare, but kept looking at him out of the corners of his eyes. His face was fuzzy and out of focus and almost seemed like someone Barry should know. His ears flicked back and he shot Barry a look. Caught, he tried to pretend like he'd been looking at the pool table.

The man finally looked up. He followed his gaze to the table. Looked back at him, up and down. Especially down. At his shoes. Then back at the table, and then finally met his eyes. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"

"Barry," Barry answered. "What's yours?"

"Taako," he answered. The beginnings of a grin tugged at his face. "How's a game of pool sound?"

-

Barry wiped his mouth and set down his fifth beer. "This is it," he said. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna get this one."

"You're more fun than I gave you credit for, Bluejeans!" Taako hollered. He'd had just as much to drink as Barry, who, despite appearances, could apparently party. "But still not good at pool. Let's see it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled easily, and rested his feet on the edge of the pool table. Barry eyed his own boots enviously. He'd lost the first round. And the second. That was two chances for the two boots—no one ever said Taako was uncharitable (well, actually, many people had said that). But Barry was doing better this time, with his glasses on the line. And Taako was having fun.

There was a gaping hole where his heart should be, as long as he could remember. It wasn't filled now, certainly. It still hurt if he thought about it. But there was a small, fluttering warmth there that grew hard to ignore the longer he laughed with Barry. It had been a long time since he'd really talked to anyone. The banter between him and Barry was comfortable and easy. His laugh was rusty, but he couldn't stop it from bubbling up out of the warmth in his chest.

Barry aimed his cue, and in a rather impressive and familiar maneuver, the ball sunk. "Ha!" Barry crowed, and finished the beer. "Guess I'm not so bad!" He turned around to face Taako, who had, just a moment before, had every appearance of enjoying himself.

Taako was no longer laughing. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"Huh?" Barry asked, looking back at the table like it'd tell him what he'd done.

Taako rose angrily. "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are? Have you been following me or something?" That was his move. He'd invented it as a kid... at least, he thought so. He'd been using it for a long time, anyway. But he hadn't tonight. Now that he thought about it, Barry had been playing just like he usually did.

"What?" Barry asked stupidly.

"I'm done, man," Taako replied. "I don't—I'm leaving." Whether Barry was an overzealous fan or a family member priming him for a revenge murder, Taako didn't want anything to do with it. He'd thought he was far enough away, somewhere he'd never been before, halfway across the continent, but this just kept following him—

"Hey, what about my shoes?" Barry asked, starting to get angry as well.

"I won them, asshole!"

"We're in the middle of a game!"

"Too bad!"

"W-At least let me—look, I-I already spent all my gold on a room, but you can have it if you give me my shoes back," Barry said wretchedly. "I can't—I need shoes."

"Then you shouldn't have bet them," Taako said, but his anger dampened. The guy seemed genuinely bewildered, and anyway, Taako couldn't afford a room here. Or anywhere else. It'd been a long time since he'd slept in a bed. It wasn't nearly as good as gold, but a night's sleep... Couldn't hurt to leave it to chance. "Tell you what," he said, "we'll finish the game. If you win, I'll take the room, and you can have your shoes back."

Barry grinned. "You're on."

-

Barry eyed the ball, drinks forgotten. He kind of desperately needed a win. "So," he said, trying for conversational, "what'd you even get mad about?"

Taako, also, had given up on flippancy. "You were playing just like me. I thought you'd been watching me or something."

"I have been," Barry answered, and noticed Taako's shoulders stiffen. He blushed. "Not- not like that. We've been playing all night. And, I mean, not to say I'm giving up, but you're a lot better than me. I kinda need any pointers I can get."

"Yeah," Taako said. "That is true. Maybe that was it."

The balls clattered and the one Barry had aimed for bounced away from its pocket. "Fuck."

Taako took his place and aimed his cue. The table scattered and two balls sunk. Barry was facing down a tomorrow without shoes. The coin'd told him he only needed enough gold for the night, with extra just in case—but that was extra before all the beers, and the chicken wings, and the room at the nice, expensive inn with the pool table he'd followed Taako into on a whim. He didn't even really know why he did it. There was just something about Taako... something that made his chest ache less, just like the coin said.

The game went on late into the night. The other people in the tavern slowly trickled away, upstairs or out the door to cheaper inns, until the room was left dim and quiet. Barry's turns always took too long, but Taako never told him to hurry up. The balls clinked together and sunk into their pockets one by one, until Taako took his last shot, and his last ball disappeared. Barry stared despondently.

Taako stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly. "Well, guess that's it," he said with finality, still wearing Barry's boots. "See ya."

"Good game," Barry said hollowly, and walked to the stairs on socked feet. He made it about halfway up before he realized Taako wasn't moving that way either, or leaving.

Taako sighed. "Hang on, Bluejeans." Barry stopped. "Alright, here. Take your shoes. I don't need them. It was enough just to kick your ass."

Surprised at the offer of mercy, Barry came back down, and Taako handed his boots back, looking away, toward the empty bar.

"Thanks," Barry said.

"Sure," Taako said. "Whatever. What the hell am I gonna do with your boots? I have to be nimble, dude, and they're clunky as hell."

Barry went to go back up the stairs, but something stopped him. Taako still didn't make to leave. His clothes were awful ragged, threadbare and patched. He was still looking out at the room, and his eyes rested on the fireplace, where the fire had burned down to warm embers. It was cold at night this time of year, wasn't it?

"You can stay in my room if you don't have anywhere else to go," Barry blurted before he could think.

Taako looked back at him. "What?"

Barry flushed. He might still be a little drunk. "I-it just seemed like you weren't leaving... If you have a room somewhere else, sorry, but I was-"

"Inviting me to your room?" Taako asked incredulously. "What, are we gonna cuddle? Or are you coming on to me?"

"No," Barry said, embarrassed, even though he could tell Taako was fucking with him. Somehow, he could tell. "I just—look, you don't have to, I just thought it'd be nice to offer. Better than nothing. And you gave me my shoes back, so fair's fair."

Taako glanced back again toward the door, and the fireplace. "Alright," he said slowly, like he was surprised at himself. "You know what, why not."

-

Taako wasn't all that impressed. For a nice inn, it wasn't much. The bed was large, but other than that the room was mostly empty, and still chilly. Drafty window. Bare wooden floors. Well, he had a decent bedroll, at least, and it wouldn't be nearly as cold in there as outside. Even so, for a moment he stared longingly at the thick blankets on the bed. Then he started unfurling his bedroll in the clear space on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Barry asked.

"Going to sleep, dude. Gotta get a full eight hours." Elves were supposed to meditate, but he wasn't able to. He didn't know why. He just knew most of them did it with other elves nearby.

"On the floor?" Barry asked. Taako looked at him quizzically and he stammered, "I-I mean, it's a nice place—the bed's pretty big, y'know? I wouldn't mind."

"Thought you said you weren't coming on to me," Taako said, half joking and half uncomfortable. Not for any reason, really. He was far more comfortable than he ought to be.

"I'm not!"

Taako opened his mouth to say, I'm not spooning with a stranger, but something deep in his subconscious told him that wouldn't be quite accurate. Some part of him felt at ease. Something about this guy had compelled him to give the shoes back. He’d never given the shoes back before. He couldn't imagine why he did this time. Someone who seemed kind wasn't to be trusted. And yet...

"God," he muttered to himself, "what the hell am I doing?" Then, out loud, "Fine!" And before he could think any more about it he crawled into bed. Well, he crossed from where the bedroll on the floor was laid out, over to the left side of the bed, against the wall. Barry sat down on the right. He was between Taako and the door. No easy escape. Why the hell had he gone to a particular side at all? It wasn't like he was used to sharing. It wasn't like he'd ever had anyone to share with, enough to have a side. Whatever. He blamed it on the alcohol. Actually, he was just gonna blame all of this weird situation on the alcohol. All this warmth spilling over inside his chest. Well, what was done was done. Even if he couldn't understand why he'd done it.

Besides, Barry was a heavy sleeper. Something made him certain of that.

"Touch me and I'll curse your ass," Taako warned.

"My ass is already cursed," Barry mumbled, face buried in a pillow. "'M lactose intolerant."

That sounded right. That sounded exactly right. He didn't know how he knew these things.

Taako laid back cautiously, more out of habit than anything. He should be expecting something. He didn't have anything worth stealing, really, but there were definitely people who'd want to kill him. He should be falling asleep expecting to have his throat cut in the night.

But Barry was already snoring, and for some reason that sound made his eyes so heavy. Barry was a solid presence at his back, between him and the door, and for some reason, that made all his tensed muscles relax for the first time in a long, lonely time. Partly from the shared blanket and partly from this other, confusing feeling, Taako felt warm. The last thing he thought before he drifted off was that there was a space between them, a space that Barry had very carefully left at his request. And he wished there wasn't.

-

When Barry woke up to midmorning sunlight streaming through the inn room's window, for a moment the weight in his chest was light, and he felt, for the first time in years, that maybe he'd finally found a piece of his shattered self. Then he looked beside him, and the space there was empty and long cold. The ache came thundering back.

But the sheets had definitely been slept in.

[bitterie-sweetie]

Redo

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader Genre: fluff WC: 3.5k Warnings: mentions of alcohol

The party was a little crazy and you wake up not remembering who you were making out with last night. Luckily your best friend was there and can help you solve this mystery, right?

Is it bad that the only thing you can remember from last night is making out with some guy?

Yeah, you were wasted out of your mind. The obnoxious pounding of your head and the lack of memories beyond your fourth shot at the party is only further proof of that. But oddly enough, you can clearly remember the stranger's gentle touch, the heat of his mouth, and your heart pounding so hard it might explode.

Which, when you think about it, is the other weird thing. That kind of knee-weakening, heart fluttering type of feeling has only ever been evoked by one person before—

"Y/N? Are you even listening?" Wonwoo waves a hand in front of your face, thankfully interrupting your train of thought. "Are you sure you don't remember anything from last night?"

"Based on the way you keep asking me that, I'm starting to think I'm better off not remembering it," you retort, groaning at the growing headache when you attempt to recall any memories at all. "Anyway, that's exactly why I called you. You're the last person I remember from yesterday, and I need your help."

Wonwoo's instant frown tells you that he's already wary about where this conversation is heading. And sure, he has every right to be after having spent years being dragged into the antics of his closest friend.

In your defense though, the party last night wasn't exactly your idea.

The party was Joshua's holiday party that he was co-hosting with his friend, Jeonghan, at a local bar where one of their friends works. You definitely weren't expecting an invite from Joshua, but there he'd been, handing it to you at the end of your tutorial one day. By this point, you'd already heard the rumours about how their parties tend to be... just a little bit sketchy. They had a bad rep, so to say, but no one ever talked about the reason behind that. Of course that only made you all the more curious.

So really, you were just an innocent guest attending a party that your friend personally invited you to.

And it was a good time, at least to you. But judging by Wonwoo's unamused expression, you're now wondering if you perhaps contributed to this bad rep, whatever it was you ended up doing.

"Yeah so. Did you see who I, um..." You have to pause to figure out how to ask your question without asking it directly. "Like, how I ended up getting home? After leaving the party?"

No response. You can feel him staring at you, likely to be judging you internally, but when you meet his eyes, he looks away.

"Right, okay." You give him a wry smile. "That's fine. I was thinking that retracing my steps from last night might help me recover my memories."

Wonwoo blinks.

"Please? I'll buy you that skin you've been eyeing lately?" The least you can do is try to appeal to his gamer side.

He considers for a moment, acting as if the two of you don't already know what the outcome would be. "Make it two skins."

"Deal. Now let's go do this thing."

An hour later, you're getting a strong sense of deja vu as the two of you head to the dinner spot you were just at yesterday. Nothing has changed within the span of a day—the lights are still up, not yet lit in the fading afternoon sunlight, and the trees are still decorated with the tiny trinkets and colourful tinsel. If anything, it's just slightly quieter on the streets without the same bustle of people out like last night.

The stillness on the streets coupled with Wonwoo's strange silence gives you the opportunity to finally slow down and think about why exactly you want to remember the events from last night. Why are you so adamant on finding this mystery person you were making out with? Truth to be told, you don't really know the answer to that; it was just a kiss after all, albeit a good one, but did it need to mean something? You save the thought to examine later.

"Here we are," Wonwoo breaks the silence. He opens the door to the restaurant and steps aside, waiting for you to enter first. "Anything ring a bell yet?"

You snort. "Please, it's not like I can't remember anything from this early on."

He follows right behind you, and soon, the two of you are seated. You're on the opposite side of the restaurant today, though yesterday's table with the couple currently occupying it is within your field of view.

"Oh yeah?" Wonwoo raises a brow at you. "Then what were we talking about?" He slides a menu your way and then opens his own, though he chooses to stare at you instead of reading it, awaiting a response.

You shoot him a dull look back. "We went over your hatred for the holidays. Sorry—not hatred, but distaste. The crowds are terrible, the lights are way too much, and you obviously don't like the red and green colour combo. Don't even get me started on the music."

When the waitress comes by to take your orders, you snap your mouth shut, hoping she didn't overhear this odd conversation. Wonwoo picks something off the menu as if he'd been reading it, while you end up ordering the same thing as yesterday.

"Wow, is that really how you think of me?"

"Who knows," you shrug, feeling the smug smile on your lips. "But you see, I have a theory that it's not really about any of that at all."

"Really? Go on."

You lean a little closer and gesture for him to do the same, intentionally pausing to up the suspense. "I don't think it's about the holiday or festivities at all. What you actually dislike is the—how do I say this..." you wrack your brain for the right term. "It's the couple-ness of it that you don't like. The whole cuffing season thing, the way couples are all around you, from the moment you step out of the house to when you turn on your screen and those hallmark movies are playing. You hate how love is in the air."

He doesn't respond immediately, and so you take a sip of your water to make your whole demeanour a little more nonchalant. The subject is one you don't bring up much—you may have known him for a long time and are his closest friend, but you still don't know why he's never shown any interest in love. There has never been a crush, a dating app, or someone he vaguely found attractive, and he's never cared much about your love life either and would much rather avoid the topic entirely.

Well, not that you've had much of a love life in a long time.

The crease between Wonwoo's brows deepens as he thinks, and by the time he opens his mouth, his entire face is a look of disdain. "I'll go with answer A: shitty crowds, lights, and colours."

"Bingo. I got it, didn't I?" You push it just a bit more so that maybe then he'll tell you what's really on his mind. But before he can respond, the waitress comes back with the food, and you know you've lost your opportunity.

Wonwoo stays silent for a while as the two of you eat, but you can feel his analytical eyes on you every now and then. He almost looks like he wants to say something, like he's wavering and might actually answer your question instead of avoiding it like you expect him to.

He doesn't, though. In the end, he decides to change the subject. "What about you? Why do you want to find the person you were with last night?"

"Because—"

You stop to think.

Perhaps it's what you remember about it that stirs this feeling in your gut. You remember the way it felt, the softness of his lips and the warmth of his fingers as they gently held you. The absolute tenderness that existed despite the heat of the moment and despite the alcohol in your veins making everything glow as the world spun around you.

And then there were the butterflies, the ones that only come out in the presence of that one special person. You're sure not just anyone could've made you feel like that no matter how inebriated you were, so this stranger had to be someone special. There was definitely something there.

Or so you think. Of course it might've been something you misremembered because of your delusional state last night, but at least it was something you could cling onto, right? You've been telling yourself to get out of this cycle of unrequited love and hopefully move on with your life next year. This would be the perfect excuse, and a much better one than the blind dates that your aunt keeps trying to set up for you.

"My family is still on my back about that blind date," you say, rolling your eyes for extra effect. You might as well lay the foundation now so that you have a back up excuse. "Maybe if I find this person and things work out, then they'll finally stop pestering me about that."

"How are you going to find this person? Surely you're not going to go around kissing strangers until you recover your memories? Do you remember anything about them?" Wonwoo's questions come one after the other, and it's the first time he's so interested in your love life. Usually by this point he'd be looking slightly uncomfortable and then changing the subject, and seeing this odd behaviour makes you wonder if it has anything to do with what happened yesterday.

"I... haven't thought that far," you admit. "I guess finding them isn't that important; I just want to know who they are."

"Does it matter who they are?"

The question surprises you again, so you peer at him, trying to analyze him the way he often does to you. Wonwoo's face doesn't give anything away though; he stares back without moving away once you meet his gaze, almost as if daring you to answer the question. Just like you did earlier when asking about his aversion to the holiday stuff.

"Hey, how are we doing over here?" The waitress stops by just in time.

You send a silent thanks to the greater powers.

After finishing up the meal mostly in silence, you're now heading toward the bar where the party was held last night. It's not too long of a walk from the restaurant, which was good for yesterday when you were trying not to freeze in your party outfit—or, well, maybe it wasn't so good since Wonwoo did pull you in and open up his coat to try to shield you from the wind with it.

What this short walk is also not good for, is today when he seems to use every opportunity to convince you to turn around.

"Are you sure you want to know, Y/N?" Wonwoo slows down his steps beside you until he's practically dragging his feet. "It's not too late to go home. We could watch that movie on your list or put up the new ornaments you bought."

His offer is so strange, not quite unlike your offer to buy him skins for his game, that you nearly accept on the spot. But as tempting as it sounds, today needs to be spent finding the potential love of your life.

You pretend to consider for a moment. "Tempting, but no," you shake your head. "I need to solve this mystery."

He doesn't say anything to that, but you don't give him a chance to before you're speeding up and heading to the next spot.

The sun has now set, and the many coloured lights of the streets are just beginning to light up as the two of you head towards the bar where the party was last night. More people are out and about; couples holding hands as they walk side by side, singles hurrying home, groups of friends heading to the Christmas market nearby. Everyone you look at could potentially be the person you were with last night.

But who could it have been? Surely it couldn't have been the worst-case scenario, your ex—you don't even think he was at the party since you've never talked about him before, but knowing Jeonghan and Joshua, they totally could've found a way to bring him there. Maybe it was the hottie, Mingyu, whose name is the only thing you can remember just because of his thousand-watt smile. Or maybe it was—

No. Your heart gives an involuntary jerk at the thought, and you have to shake your head to get rid of the idea. No, it's not possible at all.

"Y/N?" Wonwoo stops a few steps ahead of you, glancing back with concern at your abrupt stop. "You good?"

"Yeah, of course." You shoot him a quick smile but avoid his gaze. Now you definitely need to get rid of that thought.

The two of you make your way to the bar, but the search is futile the whole way. People are everywhere all around you, walking along the streets and gathered by the bar, and yet, somehow no one you look at seems to fit the picture. You see the same bartender from last night and he greets you with a wave, but his hair is much longer than what you remember about the mystery person, and his lips much thicker.

But you soon realize that the lack of resemblance isn't even the issue. At the back of the bar when you do seem to spot an attractive stranger with similar features to what you remember, your heart still sinks at the thought of having kissed them. And it's the same with every person you look at, which only means one thing: the problem is that you can't possibly imagine ever being in love with them. You can't imagine being in love with anyone other than your best friend.

It feels like hours later when the two of you finally decide to call it a day.��

There's an empty bench just down the street from the bar, close enough to the Christmas market that you get a nice view of the lights when you collapse onto it. The bustle of earlier has calmed down at this late hour, though it does little to calm the nervous pulsing of your heart. You can't quite pinpoint what it is that's making your stomach twist, and it certainly doesn't help that Wonwoo is so close you can see the fresh snowflakes landing on his eyelashes and in his hair.

It'd be nice if this moment could last forever—only the two of you existing as the rest of the world is muffled by the snow.

But nothing lasts forever, and you know that you have to end this and move on with your life.

"It was someone from the party, wasn't it?" you ask tentatively. Wonwoo seems to be analyzing you when he looks over, but otherwise doesn't respond. "And you know who it is."

That earns you a nod.

"I thought so." You heave a sigh, turning away from him to stare at the lights in the distance. No wonder he seems to have been dropping hints all day—the cryptic questions, the subtle slip ups. He can be a really careful guy when he wants to be, but this time it's as if he wants you to know that he knows. And yet, the two of you still spent all day aimlessly retracing your steps. "Then why wouldn't you just tell me who it is?"

"Because," Wonwoo mumbles, "what if it's someone you don't want it to be?"

"Then it would just have been a fun time and nothing more, I guess. Why does that m—"

"What if it's someone that you can't see that way? Someone you'll never be able to have feelings for?"

The question catches you off guard. Here you are, half expecting a name drop at this point after having spent so long searching in vain—you expect him to simply tell you that this mystery person really was your ex or maybe the bartender, or maybe even Joshua himself for whatever reason. Gross. So yes, there might be a list of people you don't want it to be, but what you don't understand is why Wonwoo is making such a big deal out of it.

When you look over at him, there's a sort of apprehension written on his face that he doesn't bother hiding. And while it confuses you why he's taking this so seriously, you can also feel the growing tension in the air between you, making each ticking second veer towards a slope that you'll be unable to turn back from. You never thought this would matter so much, but it's as if everything depends on this one, singular moment. The instant when he reveals the truth.

Why would he care so much about it though? Why would it matter to him who his best friend was drunkenly making out with? Why would he be so oddly hesitant yet curious about what you thought of this person—

"What if you're disappointed by who it is?"

The memories rush back so quickly that you nearly kneel over.

Stumbling out of the bar, finding this exact bench. The world spinning in a kaleidoscopic blur of lights, the warmth of his hands guiding you. You'd sat here and teased him about his distaste for the holidays—you asked if he hated it when you brought him to the Christmas market with you every year, and if he'd much rather not help you put up the tree. You asked why he even went to the holiday party with you this year despite hating both the holidays and parties. 

Then when you looked up...

"The mistletoe." You let out a gasp when you see it right above you, still in the same position it'd been in last night. The very mistletoe that you'd pointed out to Wonwoo and asked him if he hated it too.

If he hated being underneath it with you.

"You remember it now?" he asks quietly. He appears calm, stoic as usual, but it's all too easy to see that there's anxiety swimming just beneath it all.

"Yeah, it's coming back to me now. So that's why you didn't straight up tell me even though you knew all along." You nod to yourself as you put together the pieces.

"We were drunk and caught up in the moment so I didn't think you meant what you said or would even want to remember it. I was going to let you forget it, Y/N, in case you thought it was a mistake."

It all makes sense now. All of that would explain his nervous energy today, the odd questions, the sudden interest. Except there's just one more thing... "But then why did you agree to come with me and retrace our steps? You—you wanted me to remember."

He sighs and gives in with a nod. "Yeah, it was a chance to redo the day. Last night was wild and things kind of went out of control, but this way, we can do it differently. I kept hoping that maybe there's the slightest chance you really meant it, what you said about..."

About being in love with your best friend, you think, internally cringing when you can hear the words in your own voice from last night. You'd nearly screamed it out loud, and the situation was probably more than embarrassing and not pretty at all—blame it on Joshua for having this party in the first place. This was nothing like how you might've pictured confessing to a crush at all.

But as crazy and mortifying as it was, it feels almost like an inside joke, a moment that only the two of you would ever know. And when you finally manage to process what Wonwoo just said, your heart speeds up for an entirely different reason.

Hope. This is what you'd been hoping for, too.

"I meant all of it," you quickly say, diving right in before you can chicken out. "Did you? When you said that you don't hate all this holiday stuff, but actually enjoy it because it's with me? That you... feel the same way?"

"Yeah, Y/N. You have no idea how long I've been holding onto that." The tension in his body has eased and there's finally a smile on his lips, perhaps for the first time today. "And about the mistletoe right above us? I don't hate it, Y/N," Wonwoo repeats his words from last night. "Not at all."

"Ah, I see," you tease despite the hammering of your heart at what's to come. "Is that what you want to redo this day for?"

Wonwoo's smile widens. "I'd gladly redo any day if it's with you."

When the distance closes and you feel the tenderness in his touch and taste the soda on his tongue, you know that this redo of a night would be committed to memory forever.

[nhularin]

hey reddit! AITA...

r/heeseung_O5 - rip yuna!

?! SYNOPSIS. . . in which four idiotic lovesick men try to find comfort in a shitty app after their break up. but! what happens when you find their burner account?

you found yourself nervously fidgeting on your couch, anxiously awaiting his arrival. it had been a month since Heeseung and you broke up, a painful separation that left you both with broken hearts. But fate, well a shitty app it seemed, had decided to throw you a lifeline, bringing you together today

the familar sound of the doorbell echoed through your apartment, jolting you oit of your nervous act. with a deep breath, you approached the entrance and opened the door, finding heeseung standing in front of you, looking handsome as ever

time had not been kind to him. his eyes held the remnants of sorrow, his smile slightly dimmed. yet, he still possessed that charismatic boyish aura that had drawn you to him when you were teenagers.

"hey" his voice broke and you could see the panic in his eyes hes so cute

"come in" you stepped aside to let the man enter, a sudden wave of deja vu crashing onto you. you couldn't help but think back to the beginning of the year, with him standing in your apartment kitchen and attempting to make you a new year's cake, which ended in him almost starting a fire. oh god how you missed it

Heeseung hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you stood in the center of the living room, awkwardly unsure of where to begin.

your voice wavered slightly. "I'm glad you could make it."

he nodded, taking a deep breath. "me too, actually." he looked at you for confirmation before he sat down on the couch "I've missed you," he whispered.

your heart fluttered at his words, the longing in his eyes. "heeseung dont do this to me," you admitted, a hint of vulnerability in my voice.

heeseung looked at you with hurt written in his eyes, carefully choosing his words, "I want to apologize for everything I did wrong. I never meant to hurt you."

you nodded, your eyes locked with his, feeling the sincerity in his words. "and I'm sorry for not putting enough effort and taking you for granted," he continued, the genuine remorse seeping into his voice. "I wish I had fought for us harder."

as the barriers crumbled, you began to talk, letting honesty and humour wash over your conversation. painful truths and unspoken fears came to light, as you navigated through uncharted territories of self-reflection and understanding. It was in that quiet moment, trapped within the walls of your apartment, where you both rediscovered the strength of our relationship.

"so" heeseung started as he wrapped his arms around your torso, head buried in your neck "does that mean we can...you know" he made weird gestures with his hands which you only can assume was supposed to be a dramatic heart "boyfie and girlfie?"

you laughed at his silliness "i guess so, hanbin would kill and kick me out of the groupchat if i didnt take you back"

he grinned, lifted your chin, and embraced you in a passionate kiss

oh boy were you screwed

prev <- masterlist

LIKED IT? CHECK OUT R/JAY

AUTHORS NOTE anndddd thats a wrap for heeseungs part! im not the best with writing kissing scenes so ill just leave it at that LOLLL ill begin with jays one in a few days (or even today?!) 🙏🏻🙏🏻so stay tuned! thank you so much for the support pookies ily mwah

TAGLIST @kjrcrz @cha3w0n-hearts @neighborhae @lacieeeeee00 @enluv @kyanmeai @luvistqrzzz @mrchweeee @tobiosbbyghorl @mimimovv @jayujus @heefys @i-hwa

[jeongjaebae]

Redo

Pairing: Juyeon x reader Genre: holiday fluff fluff fluff Word count: 3.5k Warnings: mentions of alcohol

The holiday party was a little crazy and you wake up not remembering who you were making out with last night. Luckily your best friend was there and can help you solve this mystery, right?

Is it bad that the only thing you can remember from last night is making out with some guy?

Yeah, you were wasted out of your mind. The obnoxious pounding of your head and the lack of memories beyond your fourth shot at the party is only further proof of that. But oddly enough, you can clearly remember the stranger's gentle touch, the heat of his mouth, and your heart pounding so hard it might explode.

Which, when you think about it, is the other weird thing. That kind of knee-weakening, heart fluttering type of feeling has only ever been evoked by one person before—

"Y/N? Are you even listening?" Juyeon waves a hand in front of your face, thankfully interrupting your train of thought. "Are you sure you don't remember anything from last night?"

"Based on the way you keep asking me that, I'm starting to think I'm better off not remembering it," you retort, groaning at the growing headache when you attempt to recall any memories at all. "Anyway, that's exactly why I called you. You're the last person I remember from yesterday, and I need your help."

Juyeon's instant frown tells you that he's already wary about where this conversation is heading. And sure, he has every right to be after having spent years being dragged into the antics of his closest friend.

In your defense though, the party last night wasn't exactly your idea.

The party was Changmin's holiday party that he was co-hosting with his friend, Chanhee, at a local bar where one of their friends works. You definitely weren't expecting an invite from Changmin, but there he'd been, handing it to you at the end of your tutorial one day. By this point, you'd already heard the rumours about how Chanhee and Changmin's parties tend to be... just a little bit sketchy. They had a bad rep, so to say, but no one ever talked about the reason behind that. Of course that only made you all the more curious.

So really, you were just an innocent guest attending a party that your friend personally invited you to.

And it was a good time, at least to you. But judging by Juyeon's unamused expression, you're now wondering if you perhaps contributed to this bad rep, whatever it was you ended up doing.

"Yeah so. Did you see who I, um..." You have to pause to figure out how to ask your question without asking it directly. "Like, how I ended up getting home? After leaving the party?"

No response. You can feel him staring at you, likely to be judging you internally, but when you meet his eyes, he looks away.

"Right, okay." You give him a wry smile. "That's fine. I was thinking that retracing my steps from last night might help me recover my memories."

Juyeon blinks.

"Please? I'll buy you that skin you've been eyeing lately?" The least you can do is try to appeal to his gamer side.

He considers for a moment, acting as if the two of you don't already know what the outcome would be. "Make it two skins."

"Deal. Now let's go do this thing."

An hour later, you're getting a strong sense of deja vu as the two of you head to the dinner spot you were just at yesterday. Nothing has changed within the span of a day—the lights are still up, not yet lit in the fading afternoon sunlight, and the trees are still decorated with the tiny trinkets and colourful tinsel. If anything, it's just slightly quieter on the streets without the same bustle of people out like last night.

The stillness on the streets coupled with Juyeon's strange silence gives you the opportunity to finally slow down and think about why exactly you want to remember the events from last night. Why are you so adamant on finding this mystery person you were making out with? Truth to be told, you don't really know the answer to that; it was just a kiss after all, albeit a good one, but did it need to mean something? You save the thought to examine later.

"Here we are," Juyeon breaks the silence. He opens the door to the restaurant and steps aside, waiting for you to enter first. "Anything ring a bell yet?"

You snort. "Please, it's not like I can't remember anything from this early on."

He follows right behind you, and soon, the two of you are seated. You're on the opposite side of the restaurant today, though yesterday's table with the couple currently occupying it is within your field of view.

"Oh yeah?" Juyeon raises a brow at you. "Then what were we talking about?" He slides a menu your way and then opens his own, though he chooses to stare at you instead of reading it, awaiting a response.

You shoot him a dull look back. "We went over your hatred for the holidays. Sorry—not hatred, but distaste. The crowds are terrible, the lights are way too much, and you obviously don't like the red and green colour combo. Don't even get me started on the music."

When the waitress comes by to take your orders, you snap your mouth shut, hoping she didn't overhear this odd conversation. Juyeon picks something off the menu as if he'd been reading it, while you end up ordering the same thing as yesterday.

"Wow, is that really how you think of me?"

"Who knows," you shrug, feeling the smug smile on your lips. "But you see, I have a theory that it's not really about any of that at all."

"Really? Go on."

You lean a little closer and gesture for him to do the same, intentionally pausing to up the suspense. "I don't think it's about the holiday or festivities at all. What you actually dislike is the—how do I say this..." you wrack your brain for the right term. "It's the couple-ness of it that you don't like. The whole cuffing season thing, the way couples are all around you, from the moment you step out of the house to when you turn on your screen and those hallmark movies are playing. You hate how love is in the air."

He doesn't respond immediately, and so you take a sip of your water to make your whole demeanour a little more nonchalant. The subject is one you don't bring up much—you may have known him for a long time and are his closest friend, but you still don't know why he's never shown any interest in love. There has never been a crush, a dating app, or someone he vaguely found attractive, and he's never cared much about your love life either and would much rather avoid the topic entirely.

Well, not that you've had much of a love life in a long time.

The crease between Juyeon's brows deepens as he thinks, and by the time he opens his mouth, his entire face is a look of disdain. "I'll go with answer A: shitty crowds, lights, and colours."

"Bingo. I got it, didn't I?" You push it just a bit more so that maybe then he'll tell you what's really on his mind. But before he can respond, the waitress comes back with the food, and you know you've lost your opportunity.

Juyeon stays silent for a while as the two of you eat, but you can feel his analytical eyes on you every now and then. He almost looks like he wants to say something, like he's wavering and might actually answer your question instead of avoiding it like you expect him to.

He doesn't, though. In the end, he decides to change the subject. "What about you? Why do you want to find the person you were with last night?"

"Because—"

You stop to think.

Perhaps it's what you remember about it that stirs this feeling in your gut. You remember the way it felt, the softness of his lips and the warmth of his fingers as they gently held you. The absolute tenderness that existed despite the heat of the moment and despite the alcohol in your veins making everything glow as the world spun around you.

And then there were the butterflies, the ones that only come out in the presence of that one special person. You're sure not just anyone could've made you feel like that no matter how inebriated you were, so this stranger had to be someone special. There was definitely something there.

Or so you think. Of course it might've been something you misremembered because of your delusional state last night, but at least it was something you could cling onto, right? You've been telling yourself to get out of this cycle of unrequited love and hopefully move on with your life next year. This would be the perfect excuse, and a much better one than the blind dates that your aunt keeps trying to set up for you.

"My family is still on my back about that blind date," you say, rolling your eyes for extra effect. You might as well lay the foundation now so that you have a back up excuse. "Maybe if I find this person and things work out, then they'll finally stop pestering me about that."

"How are you going to find this person? Surely you're not going to go around kissing strangers until you recover your memories? Do you remember anything about them?" Juyeon's questions come one after the other, and it's the first time he's so interested in your love life. Usually by this point he'd be looking slightly uncomfortable and then changing the subject, and seeing this odd behaviour makes you wonder if it has anything to do with what happened yesterday.

"I... haven't thought that far," you admit. "I guess finding them isn't that important; I just want to know who they are."

"Does it matter who they are?"

The question surprises you again, so you peer at him, trying to analyze him the way he often does to you. Juyeon's face doesn't give anything away though; he stares back without moving away once you meet his gaze, almost as if daring you to answer the question. Just like you did earlier when asking about his aversion to the holiday stuff.

"Hey, how are we doing over here?" The waitress stops by just in time.

You send a silent thanks to the greater powers.

After finishing up the meal mostly in silence, you're now heading toward the bar where the party was held last night. It's not too long of a walk from the restaurant, which was good for yesterday when you were trying not to freeze in your party outfit—or, well, maybe it wasn't so good since Juyeon did pull you in and open up his coat to try to shield you from the wind with it.

What this short walk is also not good for, is today when he seems to use every opportunity to convince you to turn around.

"Are you sure you want to know, Y/N?" Juyeon slows down his steps beside you until he's practically dragging his feet. "It's not too late to go home. We could watch that movie on your list or put up the new ornaments you bought."

His offer is so strange, not quite unlike your offer to buy him skins for his game, that you nearly accept on the spot. But as tempting as it sounds, today needs to be spent finding the potential love of your life.

You pretend to consider for a moment. "Tempting, but no," you shake your head. "I need to solve this mystery."

He doesn't say anything to that, but you don't give him a chance to before you're speeding up and heading to the next spot.

The sun has now set, and the many coloured lights of the streets are just beginning to light up as the two of you head towards the bar where the party was last night. More people are out and about; couples holding hands as they walk side by side, singles hurrying home, groups of friends heading to the Christmas market nearby. Everyone you look at could potentially be the person you were with last night.

But who could it have been? Surely it couldn't have been the worst-case scenario, your ex—you don't even think he was at the party since you've never talked about him before, but knowing Chanhee and Changmin, they totally could've found a way to bring him there. Maybe it was the hottie, Younghoon, whose name is the only thing you can remember just because of his thousand-watt smile. Or maybe it was—

No. Your heart gives an involuntary jerk at the thought, and you have to shake your head to get rid of the idea. No, it's not possible at all.

"Y/N?" Juyeon stops a few steps ahead of you, glancing back with concern at your abrupt stop. "You good?"

"Yeah, of course." You shoot him a quick smile but avoid his gaze. Now you definitely need to get rid of that thought.

The two of you make your way to the bar, but the search is futile the whole way. People are everywhere all around you, walking along the streets and gathered by the bar, and yet, somehow no one you look at seems to fit the picture. You see the same bartender from last night and he greets you with a wave, but his hair is much longer than what you remember about the mystery person, and his lips much thicker.

But you soon realize that the lack of resemblance isn't even the issue. At the back of the bar when you do seem to spot an attractive stranger with similar features to what you remember, your heart still sinks at the thought of having kissed them. And it's the same with every person you look at, which only means one thing: the problem is that you can't possibly imagine ever being in love with them. You can't imagine being in love with anyone other than your best friend.

It feels like hours later when the two of you finally decide to call it a day. 

There's an empty bench just down the street from the bar, close enough to the Christmas market that you get a nice view of the lights when you collapse onto it. The bustle of earlier has calmed down at this late hour, though it does little to calm the nervous pulsing of your heart. You can't quite pinpoint what it is that's making your stomach twist, and it certainly doesn't help that Juyeon is so close you can see the fresh snowflakes landing on his eyelashes and in his hair.

It'd be nice if this moment could last forever—only the two of you existing as the rest of the world is muffled by the snow.

But nothing lasts forever, and you know that you have to end this and move on with your life.

"It was someone from the party, wasn't it?" you ask tentatively. Juyeon seems to be analyzing you when he looks over, but otherwise doesn't respond. "And you know who it is."

That earns you a nod.

"I thought so." You heave a sigh, turning away from him to stare at the lights in the distance. No wonder he seems to have been dropping hints all day—the cryptic questions, the subtle slip ups. He can be a really careful guy when he wants to be, but this time it's as if he wants you to know that he knows. And yet, the two of you still spent all day aimlessly retracing your steps. "Then why wouldn't you just tell me who it is?"

"Because," Juyeon mumbles, "what if it's someone you don't want it to be?"

"Then it would just have been a fun time and nothing more, I guess. Why does that m—"

"What if it's someone that you can't see that way? Someone you'll never be able to have feelings for?"

The question catches you off guard. Here you are, half expecting a name drop at this point after having spent so long searching in vain—you expect him to simply tell you that this mystery person really was your ex or maybe the bartender, or maybe even Changmin himself for whatever reason. Gross. So yes, there might be a list of people you don't want it to be, but what you don't understand is why Juyeon is making such a big deal out of it.

When you look over at him, there's a sort of apprehension written on his face that he doesn't bother hiding. And while it confuses you why he's taking this so seriously, you can also feel the growing tension in the air between you, making each ticking second veer towards a slope that you'll be unable to turn back from. You never thought this would matter so much, but it's as if everything depends on this one, singular moment. The instant when he reveals the truth.

Why would he care so much about it though? Why would it matter to him who his best friend was drunkenly making out with? Why would he be so oddly hesitant yet curious about what you thought of this person—

"What if you're disappointed by who it is?"

The memories rush back so quickly that you nearly kneel over.

Stumbling out of the bar, finding this exact bench. The world spinning in a kaleidoscopic blur of lights, the warmth of his hands guiding you. You'd sat here and teased him about his distaste for the holidays—you asked if he hated it when you brought him to the Christmas market with you every year, and if he'd much rather not help you put up the tree. You asked why he even went to the holiday party with you this year despite hating both the holidays and parties. 

Then when you looked up...

"The mistletoe." You let out a gasp when you see it right above you, still in the same position it'd been in last night. The very mistletoe that you'd pointed out to Juyeon and asked him if he hated it too.

If he hated being underneath it with you.

"You remember it now?" he asks quietly. He appears calm, stoic as usual, but it's all too easy to see that there's anxiety swimming just beneath it all.

"Yeah, it's coming back to me now. So that's why you didn't straight up tell me even though you knew all along." You nod to yourself as you put together the pieces.

"We were drunk and caught up in the moment so I didn't think you meant what you said or would even want to remember it. I was going to let you forget it, Y/N, in case you thought it was a mistake."

It all makes sense now. All of that would explain his nervous energy today, the odd questions, the sudden interest. Except there's just one more thing... "But then why did you agree to come with me and retrace our steps? You—you wanted me to remember."

He sighs and gives in with a nod. "Yeah, it was a chance to redo the day. Last night was wild and things kind of went out of control, but this way, we could do it differently. I kept hoping that maybe there's the slightest chance you really meant it, what you said about..."

About being in love with your best friend, you think, internally cringing when you can hear the words in your own voice from last night. You'd nearly screamed it out loud, and the situation was probably more than embarrassing and not pretty at all—blame it on Changmin for having this party in the first place. This was nothing like how you might've pictured confessing to a crush at all.

But as crazy and mortifying as it was, it feels almost like an inside joke, a moment that only the two of you would ever know. And when you finally manage to process what Juyeon just said, your heart speeds up for an entirely different reason.

Hope. This is what you'd been hoping for, too.

"I meant all of it," you quickly say, diving right in before you can chicken out. "Did you? When you said that you don't hate all this holiday stuff, but actually enjoy it because it's with me? That you... feel the same way?"

"Yeah, Y/N. You have no idea how long I've been holding onto that." The tension in his body has eased and there's finally a smile on his lips, perhaps for the first time today. "And about the mistletoe right above us? I don't hate it, Y/N," Juyeon repeats his words from last night. "Not at all."

"Ah, I see," you tease despite the hammering of your heart at what's to come. "Is that what you want to redo this day for?"

Juyeon's smile widens. "I'd gladly redo any day if it's with you."

When the distance closes and you feel the tenderness in his touch and taste the soda on his tongue, you know that this redo of a night would be committed to memory forever.

[minnie--verse]

First Date Pt. 4/Final part! (Bang Chan x Reader)

!!PART 4/FINALE!!

summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan. And you continue to meet chan... every day.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, some anger from mc, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings:  barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.

word count: ~4.8k

chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, first meets, first love flutters.

author's note: The last and final part of my mini series! This was based off the song I Think I Know You by Sarah Barrios and Eric Nam! Please give it a listen for the full experience!! I'm so glad to see so many people who enjoyed this series, I had originally meant to just write it for my best friend and leave it in google drive lol but I figured why not share it with everyone on here anyway yk? ANYWAY PLEASE ENJOY IT!!!

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

Chris’s eyes were wide as he stared at you, searching for some kind of answer from your eyes. Something finally broke through to you, and Chris had to know what it was in case it doesn’t happen tomorrow. He had put too much effort and time into you to let this just slip out of his fingers. He let out a soft laugh and moved his head to be in your line of sight. 

“No, no, what did you remember?” Chris persists, smiling through the surprise in his eyes.

You laughed slightly, taking the football from his hands and holding it up, “It’s nothing I just-- I must have dreamt it, but I remember playing this with someone.”

You had to’ve dreamed it, it was the only excuse you could come up with. Chris is just a new customer to the cafe, and you’ve never met him ever in your life. You laugh it off, and look down at the cafe table with a light flush on your cheeks. 

“I must have a knack for embarrassing myself in front of strangers,” You sigh as you recover from the moment. 

Chris couldn’t think of anything to say. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he was afraid you could hear it from across the table, and all he could do was smile knowing you had remembered him from day one. 

He cleared his throat, and placed his phone down on the table, “I don't think it’s embarrassing,” He pauses, “Anything else seem… familiar?”

You pressed your lips together and stood up from the table, wondering how weird you’d seem if you told him that his voice specifically was in your head, “Uhm, not… not really.” You shake your head at him, and straighten your apron.

“Yo! Chris--”

A loud voice echoes through the cafe, and you turn your head behind you to see another guy quickly approaching Chris with a big smile and a computer bag hanging from his shoulder. His smile was almost as infectious as Chris’s and you took a step back from the table so he could sit with his friend. 

You watch Chris’s eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flicker across his friend’s face in confusion, “Han?”

Han looked at you for a moment and then back to Chris, “Am I.. interrupting?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.

You quickly hold up your hands and shake your head, “Oh, uhm no. I just, uhm-- Thought he reminded me of someone but it was just a mistake.”

You watched the two boys exchange a glance you couldn’t quite discern, and Chris speaks up next with his eyes unblinking as he stares down Han, “Something about deja vu, you know how it is.”

You press your lips together into a tight smile before excusing yourself back to your work behind the counter. Despite the lighthearted exchange, the peculiar sensation lingers in the background.

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

As you continue to steam milk and clean down the equipment, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to this odd memory than meets the eye. The cafe buzzes with activity, but in that moment, a subtle thread of mystery weaves through the air. When it slowed, you mindlessly sang along to whatever was playing overhead in order to relax and stop thinking about what had happened earlier.

Chris couldn’t help but listen when you sang. He’d heard it every day and he never grew tired of it, noticing you favored the softer, more indie feelings songs in comparison to the popular media that played between them. He always took his headphones down  from his head and rested them around his neck just so he could hear you softly singing, imagining that one day maybe he’d be able to mix something just for you.

You glance up at the two of them every so often, more specifically, you look at Chris. You chew on your cheek in thought, something was odd about the memory but you couldn’t quite place it and it was driving you fucking crazy. You look at the two boys as they bicker about something on their computers, your hand slipping off the handle of the steamer and your arm touching the hot metal causing you to jerk your hand away with a hiss. 

“Shit--” you whisper, glancing down at your fingers and inspecting it before looking around to see Changbin watching you with a raised brow and you give him a small thumbs up, “I’m alright, no worries.”

“And mentally?” Changbin says, drying off a white mug with a towel. “Your head has been literally anywhere but the cafe today.”

You shrug at him, dumping the over-steamed milk from the mug and pouring a fresh bit to re-steam, “My head is perfectly attuned to my work, Bin.”

“Sure, because you haven’t been staring at that guy for your whole shift,” Changbin says with an eyeroll before reaching for the mug in your hands and putting it aside to have your full attention, “Did he upset you? I can make him leave if--”

“No! God no, Bin,” You say quickly, carding your hands through your hair, “It was nothing, I just thought I knew him from somewhere.”

Changbin freezes as he stares you down, just blinking at you. It was as if he wasn’t sure how to react, “what do you mean by that?”

You make a face at Changbin and laugh a little, “It’s nothing serious, I just thought I had met him before but it was just a misunderstanding.”

Lie. You shift your weight and cross your arms over your chest. You watch Changbin turn over his shoulder and glare at Chris before looking back at you, squinting as he looks you up and down.

“And?”

“What do you mean?” You say quickly, scrunching your nose at him.

“Y/N, i know you better than you know how to make a decent cup of coffee. What else happened that you didn’t tell him?” Changbin pressed, nodding his head to where Chris and Han were seated. Unfortunately, having a best friend like him means he knows what’s going on in your head.

You huff and your arms fell from your chest, “I found this on my doormat this morning, and when I unfolded it I saw his name and order. The same one he placed today, so I asked him about it and--” you pause. 

“Is he stalking you?” Changbin said quickly, unfolding the receipt and reading it for himself, “I can report him if he’s stalking you--”

“No--God, hover parent much?” You huff, pushing him gently, “Anyway, when I sat down with him we started talking and I flicked the football at him and I like-- I swear I remember playing that with him. I remember talking with him, but I swear I have never seen him before.” 

Changbin stares at you over the paper in his hands, his mouth opens as if he was going to say something then he turns around to look at Chris. You take the receipt back out of his hands and fold it back up, and Changbin looks down at his empty hands before facing you again.

“Do you remember him?” He breathes.

“Yes and no?” You say with a half shrug while your face scrunches, “I thought maybe we had met before, but I think it’s just deja vu,” You say, returning to your cleaning tasks as your shift comes to an end.

Changbin smiles softly, and tosses the white towel he was holding over his shoulder, “Deja vu sounds about right,” he says, watching you continue your work.

You let out a sigh. Something about this isnt sitting right. Reaching behind your back, your fingers untangle the bow to your apron and slip it off over your head. There was something about looking at Chris that made you feel like you were closer than strangers, like he had some way of invading your memory without you even noticing. You punch out from your shift and reapproach Chris and Han as they chatter about some project they were working on.

“Dude, this song is all we have-- we have to turn it in. JYP isn’t going to be happy going yet another week without a new song,” Han huffs, leaning his chair onto the back two legs.

“Look, I know but if she’s starting to remember then putting this song out is a risk. I don't think it’s a good--” Chris stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you approaching them and greets you with that same warm smile, “Hey again.”

“Uh, hey--” You start, awkwardly reaching into your back pocket and taking out the paper football in his hands and holding it out to him, “I just forgot to give you this.”

Chris takes it from your hands and flips it before placing it on the table, “Oh yeah, thank you.”

Before you could walk away, Han speaks up while gently resting his hand on the table as he leans towards you, “Hey, can we get your input on something?”

The sudden question catches you off guard, but if it was an excuse to talk to Chris and figure out what that memory was about then you weren’t going to deny it. You give a quick nod and take a seat next to Han.

“So we make music, and having an outsider’s perspective on our project helps a lot,” Han starts, pointing at his computer, “We’re turning this one in tomorrow and I feel like there’s something missing from it, would you give it a listen for me?” 

Han was already handing you his headphones before you could object, the bulky black over ear headphones rested on top of your head comfortably. They matched the ones Chris was wearing and you could see a bit of a flush form on Chris’s face as he looked at his computer screen intensely, as to not make eye contact with you. 

The music started, a gentle piano echoing slightly between your ears before you hear a voice come in, it’s mid pitched and soothing. Han watches you expectantly and Chris avoids eye contact with you as he types away.

The voice is incredible, and without even knowing it you were smiling as you listened to it. You silently point at Han, asking if it was him singing and you watched him shake his head no before pointing across the table at Chris; who looked mortified that you were listening to him sing.

You reach across and waved a hand near his computer screen to get his attention and when he finally looks up, you give him a smile and a thumbs up. His voice was the kind you hear and suddenly the world stopped spinning, giving you the entire moment to just take it in and enjoy hearing it to the fullest extent.

The music cuts out, and you slip off Han’s headphones and pass them to him gently before looking at Chris, “I… wow. That was actually amazing, Chris.”

“Thanks… Kinda embarrassing to have someone listen to your music right in front of you though you know?” CHris laughs gently, his eyes locking with Han’s as if he was warning him.

Han rolls his eyes before facing you, “I’m gonna be real, we need someone to duet with Chris in it.”

You raise your brows at the comment, shifting your eyes between the two boys, “I think that’s a great idea. It would balance out kind of like a story.”

Han looks pointedly as Chris while gesturing to you dramatically, “See!? I told you she’d do it.”

“Woah-- Hold on,” You say quickly, a tinge of uncertainty in your voice, "I'm not really used to singing for people, let alone two guys I don't really know. It's a bit out of my comfort zone."

There was literally no way in hell you were going to sing on a song for two--well… one guy you don't know and another you have hardly any memory of. The only singing you’d ever done was for yourself. You glance at Chris, seeking some reassurance. He gives you a wince of hope, trying to encourage you, but the reluctance still lingers. The thought of putting yourself out there feels intimidating.

"Come on, Y/N. It's just a small gig," Han insists, his eyes reflecting a genuine belief in your abilities. “You were singing just a little bit ago, I think you would be perfect for it.”

Despite his reassurances, a knot of reluctance tightens in your stomach. The fact you were even talking with two random people feels like a leap into the unknown, let alone in considering singing for them. 

Chris passes you a notebook, “Here, these are the lyrics.”

You glance at the lyrics, imagining the notes resonating in the studio, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension tugs at your heart. The lyrics were close to home, and your eyes flicker at Chris. He had to’ve met me before and I just don't remember it.

After a moment of contemplation, you take a deep breath and meet their gaze. "Okay, let's do it. I'll give it a try."

A genuine excitement lights up Han's face, and Chris lets out a breath he was holding. You card your fingers through your hair and laugh embarrassingly before Han quickly packs up and drags you out of the cafe with Chris in tow.

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

You stand still in a closed off room with a large window on the wall that allows you to see Han seated at the soundboard, “So… this is how you record then?”

Chris nods his head softly as he adjusts the microphone to match your height, “Yeah, this is the part of the studio that keeps all the outside noise at bay so we only pick up the audio we want.” Chris explains, tightening the knob to keep the microphone in place now that it was right where it should be. 

You watched as Chris leaned over to the stand behind you, and you felt your chest tighten at the proximity to him. The warmth of his skin radiating enough for you to feel it before he stand up and gently places the headset over your ears. He leans back to look at your face, eyes flickering between your own, “comfortable?”

You nod, “y-yeah, they’re good,” you say, reaching up to touch the headphones on your head and giving Chris a smile as you shift your weight and he leaves you alone in the room. He takes a seat by Han and you watch as they speak a little bit in silence. Chris looks anxious, Han rolls his eyes at him and says something exasperated before turning to face the window and pressing a button.

“Can you hear us okay?” his voice booms into your headphones, and you give them a thumbs up. 

“This feels insane,” You say with a small laugh, “Are you sure you don't want someone who is known for singing to do this?”

Chris shakes his head before finally looking at you, “Nah, you’ll do great, Y/N.” His signature smile was showing through with his words, and it made you feel at ease even when doing something as crazy as this. “You’ll have my track playing in the background so you can hear how the song is sung. We can re-take things so don’t stress if you mess up, yeah?”

You give him a thumbs up before you see Han put up his hand, counting down from five as you hear the music start playing in your ears. The delicate piano chords echo in your head again and you take a deep breath as Han finally reaches zero.

“You say down right at the corner of my table, and I don't know what it is but I swear I’m feeling deja vu.”

Your eyes closed and the lyrics moved past your lips almost effortlessly, you could hear yourself in the speakers of the headphones. When you open your eyes, Chris’s own meet yours as if he’d never looked away from you. As the music swells you watch him slowly spin the paper football in his fingers and your mind is flooded with the same memory from earlier.

You flick the folded paper and send it flying, over-shooting the goal and Chris letting out a small chuckle as he picks up the paper, “So do I get to know my opponent’s name anytime soon?” He says as he flicks it towards you, his eyes flicking up at you from your hands as you pick up the little paper.

“Y/N,” You say as you sink down into your chair to line up your shot, your tongue sticking out as you focus and send it flying through his hands. You glance up at him as he picks up the paper, “So are you like-- a part of a famous paper football league that I’ve not heard of?”

In a split second you find yourself transported to a different moment – the first time you met Chris. The memory floods your senses: the laughter, the shared conversation, and the spark of connection that had lingered in the air. It's as if a hidden door in your mind has swung open, revealing a scene that was once obscured.

“Swear I feel you in my memory, I think I’ve seen you in my dreams. Maybe you and I have history but I don’t think you know me--”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stop singing, the weight of this recollection settles over you. The realization is overwhelming, like a sudden rush of emotions that you weren't prepared for. Faces in the cafe become blurred, replaced by the vivid image of Chris, his smile etched into the canvas of your memory.

 “If there was a league, I’d be famous by now and you would have had to ask me for my name at the register,” he says with a playful head nod as he continues to flick the paper back and forth between the two of you, “But unfortunately there’s not, so I make music.”

"You make music?" you ask with a teasing glint in your eyes, "I thought you were auditioning for NSYNC with that outfit."

He looks down at himself, an amused expression playing on his face. "What's wrong with my outfit? I thought it was a fashion statement."

You lean in, pretending to inspect his ensemble with exaggerated seriousness, "Well, if the statement is 'I'm bringing back the '90s,' then mission accomplished,” you bring your hands up to make air quotes with your fingers when you say that.

Oh my god the bucket hat. You remember him wearing stupid bucket hat. A mixture of confusion and awe lingers in your eyes as you stare at Chris and you find yourself grappling with the significance of this sudden memory recall. The once-disconnected pieces of your encounters with Chris start to form a more coherent picture, leaving you in a state of introspection.

“Have we met before? Maybe in another life I knew you, maybe if I try I’ll see right through you and I’ll remember who we were.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, you find yourself only listening to Chris’s singing in your ears as you collect your thoughts. The weight of the forgotten memory mingles with the joy of rediscovery. It's a bittersweet realization – a fragment of your past brought back to life in the present.

You remember Chris's visits, his patient smile each day, a consistent presence for you. Every day, he came back. The thought resonates within you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. The realization is both heartwarming and heartbreaking – a testament to the resilience of a connection that transcends the limitations of memory.

You recall the moments when Chris would visit, sharing stories and laughter as if each encounter were a brand-new beginning. The frequency of his visits, the sincerity in his eyes – it all makes sense now. The times you were less than kind to him, and the one time Changbin kicked him out of the cafe all because you didn’t remember him. He didn't let the forgetfulness deter him; instead, he embraced each meeting with unwavering dedication.

Emotions surge within you like a tidal wave, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Clarity, like a long-lost friend, has found its way back to you. Studio and music in your ears cuts out as you navigate the flood of memories that has rushed back to you. Chris, gaze never wavering from you as he watches the changes in your face, reaches forward and presses a button to allow his voice to reach you.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

As you stand before him, tears well up in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself and you shake your head to dismiss his concerns. 

“You know that bucket hat looked awful on you.”

Chris���s eyebrows furrow for a moment, staring at you as if you were crazy. Then his eyes slowly soften, then widen, and you watch his lips part as he smiles, the same one that had melted you the first day you’d met.

“Oh my god--” His voice cuts out as you watch him quickly stand up and enter the recording room.

"Chris," you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of the revelation. "I remember. I remember everything." His eyes widen, and a spectrum of emotions dances across his face – surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief. He opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can find the words.

"I remember you coming in that day, your smile, the way you patiently shared stories, how I had you kicked out," you confess, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of the unsaid becomes a palpable presence in the studio, “I remember you showing me Han’s song, I remember you walking me home, I remember-- God, I remember everything.”

Chris, struck by the depth of your revelation, leans forward, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "You... remember?"

You nod, a mixture of joy and sorrow in your eyes, "Yes, Chris. And I remember the first day we met, how you made me laugh with that paper football game. And I remember the way you smiled at me when I said the 90s was an awful time for fashion and how I fell for you in that moment."

As Chris takes in your revelation, a mixture of disbelief and joy dances in his eyes. He gazes at you, absorbing the weight of your words, and then a tender smile graces his face. With a sincerity that pierces through the air, he begins to share his side of the story.

"Y/N," he starts, his voice tinged with emotion. "Every day, I walked into that cafe, hoping that it would be the day you remembered. Even when you didn't, it was worth it. Your smile, your laughter – they became the highlights of my day."

He takes a deep breath, as if collecting the scattered fragments of his emotions. "I fell for you so hard, right from the start. Your kindness, your laugh, the way you were so warm and inviting to everyone – it was impossible not to fall in love with you."

"I love how you find joy in the little things, how you light up when you talk about your favorite songs, and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. It's like every moment with you is a melody, and I can't get enough of it," Chris continues, his gaze locked onto yours.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you listen to him pour his heart out, the weight of his love both comforting and overwhelming. Chris's vulnerability becomes a bridge that connects every memory you have of him, and he pulls you into his arms tightly.

"I love you for who you are, Y/N, and every version of you, even the one who couldn't remember,” He breathed into your hair, eyes screwed shut as he held you close to him.

“Don’t let me forget you again, okay?”

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

The blaring alarm pierced through the veil of your dreams, a relentless assault on the peace that only moments ago had surrounded you. Groggily, you fumbled on the nightstand for the offending device, your hand clumsily slapping at the snooze button in a desperate attempt to silence the intrusion before your hand slips and it falls off your night stand, alarm still blaring.

“God damn it…” You curse under your breath as a resentful sigh leaves your lips. Reluctantly, you threw off the warmth of the covers and reached for your phone, the bright screen reading 4:30AM. Your body was protesting the untimely disturbance as the coldness in the air replaced the coziness of your bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow through the curtains, felt like a sanctuary you were being forcibly expelled from. The cool floor beneath your feet served as a stark reminder that the inviting embrace of your bed was now just a fading memory.

As you stood there, the harsh reality of the impending workday began to settle in. The day ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain, and as much as you didn’t want to go make coffee for stuck up business men and housewives with too much time on their hands, you promised to open the shop this morning and you were absolutely kicking yourself for it. 

Dragging yourself toward the bathroom, you squinted against the bright light, your reflection in the mirror a testament to the reluctant and incredibly rude awakening. With each passing minute, the realization that the sanctuary of sleep was slipping away. The only thing keeping you moving was knowing you got to have a free cup of coffee as soon as you got there.

The clock ticks, the seconds slipping away, and with each passing moment, the inevitable draws nearer. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating the merits of calling in sick, but reality nudges you with a firm reminder of bills and responsibilities. With a heavy sigh, you brush your teeth and hair as you attempt to blink away the grogginess in your eyes. The morning routine is a series of half-hearted motions. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror wears the exhaustion of someone who'd rather be doing anything but going to work.

The uniform feels like a straitjacket, but you squeeze into it, donning the required apron with a resignation that accompanies the mundane. As you lace up your shoes, you can almost hear the distant and antagonistic laughter of those still wrapped in the warm embrace of their dreams.

The walk to work is a slow march, the chilly air of Seoul biting at your skin. The vibrant sunrise paints the sky, a cruel juxtaposition to your muted mood. The comforting scent of freshly ground coffee wafts from the shop, a mixed blessing as it both heralds the start of another day and wraps you in the familiar embrace of your workplace as you tuck yourself behind the counter swiftly.

The clock on the wall seems to mock you, displaying a time that's far later than you intended to arrive. With an apologetic smile, you make your way to the locker and quickly toss an apron over your head, hoping to go unnoticed.

However, your hopes are dashed as you hear a playful voice from across the room. "Well, well, if it isn't our resident time traveler. Did you bring back any cool gadgets from the future, Y/N?" your boss Changbin teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You chuckle nervously, appreciating the light-hearted tone. "Just a tardiness superpower, I guess. I thought I'd share it with the team today," you reply, feigning innocence.

Changbin leans against your desk, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the infamous tardiness superpower. I've heard it's all the rage in the superhero world. Fashionably late, right?"

You nod, playing along. "Exactly! It's the new trend. Fashionably late is the new on-time."

Changbin laughs, shaking his head. "Well, as long as you don't start wearing a cape to work, I think we can forgive a little tardiness now and then. Just don't make it a habit, superhero."

Customers trickle in, their orders becoming a monotonous hum. With each espresso shot pulled, you feel a little more awake, a little more alive. The routine becomes a rhythm, a dance with the coffee machines. And as you hand over that first latte of the day, you realize that despite the initial reluctance for starting the day, there's a certain satisfaction in being part of the daily grind. And to which, you let out a small laugh at your own pun and shake your head before glancing back up to be met with the next customer.

When you looked up, you were greeted with chocolatey brown eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled at you. It was a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and it was a smile that definitely melted yours. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hey, Chris.”

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

Author's note: I am... to happy with how this turned out. Let me know if there's any mistakes I missed, it is very late for me as I'm getting this posted and I half-proof read it! Please enjoy the last part, and tell me all about your favorite parts of the series<3 I'll be back soon with a new series as soon as I can lovelies ^.^ Again, this is for my best friend Baylee. I love you more than you love Chan. Seriously.

Love, Bunn XOX

[sl-walker]

Today in Lines I Loved Writing

From the end of the first chapter of Stardust:

“How was it?” Skeets asked, after Booster landed on the balcony and let himself back into the fifth story room in the pretty-okay DC hotel.

He’d flown without his forcefield activated because he wanted the cold air on his face; after that, coming back into a warm room was almost too much.  He pulled the curtains closed, though he left Skeets a crack to ‘look’ through, and then started peeling out of his uniform, trying to figure out how to answer that.

Skeets knew his whole sordid history -- who else did Booster have to talk to? -- and it was still curiously hard to tell the ‘bot about the rejection he just got.  He opened his mouth three or four times to start, then just-- couldn’t.

It was weird.  Equal parts newly humiliating and familiar.  He hadn’t seen it coming until he was already under the gun, but then once he was, it was like the worst case of deja vu.  And it wasn’t the first time that had happened since landing in this time.  He’d be trying to do something -- chase a criminal, save people from a burning building, the usual hero fare -- and he’d get the feeling he’d done it a thousand times before.  Even though he’d only been in this game for not quite five months.

The whole thing was starting to make him feel like he was going crazy.

“Sir?” Skeets prompted again, pulling him back to the moment, half undressed.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Booster said, looking at the marker on the back of his hand. The bright spot in all of that: Laughing with Ted.  Trying to weigh it now felt all kinds of wrong, because even the gut-turning shame of the League’s rejection (and the hows) seemed somehow less important, and that just didn’t make any sense.

He’d gone there looking for membership or networking, not friendship, even if he was lonely.  Instead of the first two, maybe he’d gotten the last.

“I-- uh--”  He shook out of it and finished getting out of uniform, leaving it in a heap on the chair, then headed for the bathroom.  “They didn’t want me.  They know about us hacking ATMs.  And, um, what I do for a living currently.  I don’t know how I feel about it.”

Aside bad, anyway.  And tired.  And still pretty lonely.  But weirdly grateful for the phone number and name written on his skin in a marker that’d last for a few days, too.  It was all a mess.

Skeets gave that little hum of his like he was thinking, but Booster didn’t wait to hear what the ‘bot might have had to say before firing up the shower and getting in; he turned it up hot as it would go and scrubbed himself clean, lingering on it long enough to feel a little more human again, then blow-dried his hair and brushed his teeth before flopping on the bed in some cheap Walmart PJ pants and a loose t-shirt.

He wasn’t there too long, staring at the ceiling, before Skeets hovered over and then slowly settled down in the crook of his arm.

It had happened a handful of times now, though usually Skeets only did that on the really rough nights where all Booster wanted to do was crawl into some dark hole and have someone kick enough dirt over him to constitute a mercy-killing.  He wasn’t sure this night qualified, because while he was in the hole, he wasn’t in any great rush to be buried there, but he still tucked the ‘bot in close to his side, fin under flank, and let the proximity chase some of the heartache away.

After a bit, after the ‘bot’s cool metal skin had warmed where they were in contact, Booster reached over and pulled his phone off of the night stand.  He put Ted’s name and number in his contacts -- now four whole numbers deep! -- then on a whim held the phone up and smiled and took a selfie before sending it over so that Ted would have his number in turn.

The answer back was quick: Oh, I see something shiny and pretty!  Are you sleeping with one of your football trophies?

There was a split second there where, in some other lifetime, Booster would have started preening on the assumption that he was the shiny, pretty thing being complimented.  Or made a joke about the lack of eroticism contained in a football trophy.  In this one, though, he looked down at Skeets tucked against his side and found himself chuckling before texting back, If he knew you called him a football trophy, he’d be offended.  Then he added, And if he knew you called him pretty, he’d be insufferable.

He??????  Is that a robot????  And you should send another selfie and do duck face this time.

Booster blinked.  “Skeets-- what’s a duck face?”

“An exaggerated pout used in selfies, where the person taking the selfie pushes their lips outward, thereby unwittingly imitating the bill of a duck,” Skeets answered, with his usual speed and accuracy, because he could surf the internet faster than any human could think. “It’s largely fallen out of fashion, but is still considered a humorous meme.”

“Huh.”  Booster mentally shrugged to himself, then took another one, this time pouting.

And the robot?  You have to tell me about the robot!

Then: aNYWAY, that’s not duck face, that’s just sultry.  Now this is duck face.

It took several seconds for the picture to load, but then Ted’s face popped up, unmasked, making the most-- ridiculous kind of expression at the camera, lips and chin jutted out, eyes half-lidded.  Behind him was some elaborate-looking instrument panel.  It was such a goofy expression that you couldn’t help but laugh at it.

Booster thought about firing something back about blackmail.  Or maybe about Ted needing to practice his flirting, though that had some dangerous implications.  But after he got done snickering at Ted’s goofy look, he just ended up writing, His name is Skeets.  And yeah, he’s a robot.  And my friend.

That is SO COOL.  When do I get to meet him?

There was that issue again; what there existed of a future.  What there didn’t.  Despite being from several centuries into it, Booster still couldn’t see past the next day, the next meal, the next shift, the next patrol, the next motel room.  Trying to stretch whatever he could earn long enough that he didn’t have to live like this anymore.

In all of that it seemed pointless, trying to plan for a when he couldn’t even imagine.

So-- he didn’t answer that.  He just texted back, Night, Ted, and muted the phone and set it back on the nightstand.  “Wake me up when we have to fly back to New York?” he asked, like he wasn’t going to wake himself up however many times, as he got halfway under the covers and even managed to do so without letting the ‘bot go.

“You might do better to avoid going in tonight, Michael.  But I will.”

If he could have afforded to avoid it, he might have.  But since he couldn’t, he just rolled to his side and cuddled Skeets against his chest and tried to sleep.

--

Why I loved writing them:

It's been like-- fifteen years since the last time I wrote in the DCU. A lot of the stuff I loved about these characters back then remains the same, but I'm a hell of a lot older and more experienced in general life than I was back then.

So, it was especially interesting tackling Booster in this context, at this age, on the other side of two universal resets he can't remember. Particularly because he can't remember them, but alllllll those years he originally survived (and all that shit he went through during them, which was a LOT) are still influencing him on a subconscious level and slowly but surely wearing away at his mental stability. And like, Booster's a resilient guy and he has some stuff going for him in this timeline he didn't originally (like a Ted who doesn't knee-jerk no-homo on reflex, like a Skeets who is hella protective more openly, eventually even a variation of the JLI as teammates), so it's a slow process, but it's a thing that's happening.

And you can kinda see it here. There're a few scenes in his first solo book where you really did get to see this twenty-year-old guy being every bit as lonely and lost as he would be, though he covers it up quickly with bravado and sometimes reckless dumbassery.

But in this timeline, after everything, he is-- just twenty. By not even three weeks, at this point. He's been alone absent Skeets since August. He's a lot less proud than his original incarnation, a lot more aware of how isolated and lonely he is. He doesn't have the glitz and glamor of the mid-eighties to leverage and exploit, he's just this collage-aged kid who landed hundreds of years out of context with almost nothing, aside a 'bot and a costume and a genuinely brave heart. He doesn't even have his ill-gotten credit card because it woulda been expired.

So, I loved exploring what kind of person he is in this go-round when he's got his shields down, and that particular scene above does an especially good job. He's painfully aware of being rejected. He's touched as hell that Ted reached out. He's a guy who grew up in, as Dara put it, grinding poverty and therefore probably hasn't been out of some form of survival mode since he was too young to understand why he needed to be in it in the first place. He's been built up, then torn down; exalted and exploited both.

And he's still young enough to cuddle his 'bot like a stuffed animal. And he's also got a hell of a lot of years he can't remember living and feels far more tired than anyone his age should, which comes across keenly in this scene.

Plus, I had a ton of fun writing him and Ted texting, because even with this scene being heavy, Booster asking Skeets what a duck-face was made me happy. (As well as Ted calling him sultry.)

And that's your ramble for today.

[confluencechimera]

Top 5 list of your own OCs. (｀∀ ´)Ψ

OUGH this is a GOOD QUESTION. I really had to narrow it down because I have so many babies but I think I got something solid

1 - Malech H'owl, an OC I made for St*r W*rs. she was based off an old chimera fursona of mine that I turned into a unique alien species and aaa I love drawing her SO MUCH. she's my go-to doodle char. she has a whole entire society and backstory where she was a ruler and a gladiator fighter and a tactician and a mercenary. because I got really into her. she is so self indulgent but that's probably why she's my favorite. I'm so attached to her I've thought abt making her a totally original universe recently divorced from the source media just for meeeee ✨

2 - Ace, who I've been trying to get a ref sheet done for for the past year and a half or so. He looks like a basic old furry on the surface but he's apart of a much larger sci-fi story where his species are trying to preserve history for future generations by inserting memory-recording ships into different members of their kind and then beaming all that into a supercomputer hidden somewhere in the galaxy. Ace comes from a middle generation (the first gen were adults who had the procedure done, the middle generation were fairly young, the newest generation are cubs), so his chip doesn't work entirely as well as the newest gen, and he gets weird deja vu moments of seeing other people's memories. He's also a mercenary. He has a cool spaceship and lives on his own on a barren icy planet. This is the best photo I have of him atm

3 - Howlite, another OC I made for a media (this one being TF!). I'm trying to redesign her atm so I don't have as many pics to show off. but he turns into a plane and later a big old SUV. she's got an insanely long backstory as well: loses everything in a big war, goes on a revenge quest, realizes she wants to live for something more, gets almost killed (twice) and then wakes up on Earth where she finds her old partner and learns to start a new life there. he's a Certified Strange Girlboy Bi Thing. here's a real edgy picture of her after killing a bunch of ppl.

4 - Glitch and Error, two REALLY old OCs of mine who I recently revived from my old dA days. They're personified computer viruses apart of a giant hivemind sort of setup, where the larger viruses "kill" and "consume" smaller ones to become bigger and stronger. The strongest virus rules over the entire hivemind and uses the smaller drones to go out and find electricity to feed on. Not a lot of super solid universe/hard-set rules for this story, it was just something I made for fun, but these guys have endured in my brain for over 10 years so they deserve a shout out.

5 - Comet, a very new character for me (and one I haven't entirely fleshed out yet), but a simple little black wolf furry. Her aes/story is a mixture of Stray Gods, a dash of Hi-Fi Rush, lots of Norse mythology and hard rock (Breaking Benjamin in particular) music. She's the lead singer of a band called Fenrir's Chains, and one day on her drive home from a local show she gets swept up in a Wild Hunt that actually gets her to meet Fenrir. The whole story is meant to be a sort of analogy for dealing with mortality but I'm still working the themes and kinks out. So, I only have a few sketches, plus the plushie she's based on in real life. (She's next to a plushie I plan to turn into Ace one day too!)

[midnightmah07]

Daiggie's relationship Q&A

Little disclaimer: this is 100% me being self indulgent; most of these questions were taking from a specific post here on Tumblr (I'll try linking it here). Either way, this is just an excuse for me to ramble about my oc x canon! If you stayed and you're interested and wanna ask questions, I'm always open to add more💙

1. What are their first impression of each other?

Daisy - at first, she didn't think much of him. But after suspecting him and Leona of sabotage in book 2 she actively butted heads with him; the idea of hurting others for his own personal gain didn't sit right with her; Ruggie - a magic-less person seemed pretty odd, but it wasn't his problem. When starting the events of book 2 I believe he took pleasure in annoying Daisy whenever they interacted, especially since he thought of her as just a goody two shoes and who likes a goody two shoes? They both had a deja vu moment when they first saw each other. They felt like the other one was familiar but couldn't put their finger on it (this is a little nod to the fact that before the events of the game they saw each other in each other's dreams)

2. Did either of them tried to resist their feelings?

For a while I believe Ruggie didn't want to admit these new feelings, not because the idea felt weird, but because he is a tad bit insecure about his background + would she even like him back?

3. Who initiated the relationship? And how did it go?

Short answer: Daisy, through a normal and shoujo-ish confession Long answer: Ruggie started being way nicer and kinder to her, sometimes, though it wasn't always, he even decided to share his food with her, which made everyone weirded out. This was Ruggie's way of being able to tell her that he enjoyed her company and that he liked her without ever needing to put his feelings into words. This felt like an incentive to Daisy because if he was being so kind and thoughtful of her, despite being known for being greedy and selfish, than this meant he saw her as more than a friend, right? She built up courage and confessed to him, even asking him on a date. He accepted even though he was a bit reluctant and nervous, and after two dates they started officially dating

4. When in the canon story did they start dating?

I wanna say... End of book 3? Maybe in between book 3 and 4

5. What are their primary love languages?

Daisy - receiving: words of affirmation, acts of service, physical contact // giving: gifts, acts of service, physical contact Ruggie - receiving: gifts, acts of service // giving: acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts

6. What kind of nicknames do they call each other? Or how do they call each other?

Daisy calls Ruggie: Ruggie-senpai (normally, later switches to just Ruggie), love (as a form of endearment when she wants to be sweet), Rugs (started as a joke but found out he actually liked it, so she continued calling him that) Ruggie calls Daisy: Daisy-kun (normally, later switches to just Daisy), flower (teasingly and as a form of endearment), Eléa (her actual name, he mispronounces it most of the time but he tries when it's just the two of them and the situation calls for it)

7. What do my other OCs think of Ruggie and Daisy's relationship?

Honestly they don't have much of an opinion, my OCs don't usually hang out much (except for maybe Jeanne and Daisy bc Daisy is close to people from Savannaclaw); but Jeanne teases them a lot, especially Ruggie lmao

Perse couldn't care less if I'm being honest, she has her own problems to care much of the people around her getting into relationships

[vagueconfusion]

For the falling asks - 6, 14, 20 and 36🍂🍁

!! Thanks for sending some asks 🎃🍁🍂 sorry the answers got so long!

6. What is your favorite fall season film?

It's not one that will (or even has) ever really scared me, but I still have a soft spot for the old Disney Channel Halloween movies. Particularly Hocus Pocus. Nothing really niche here, haha

14. Have you ever caught a glimpse of the future?

Yeah! Kind of funny I'd get this one asked if all of them! I, uh, used to be able to tell when animals were about to die, or other unfortunate events to do with them. There were three main times of this, that I remember.

One was with our cat Gizmo, who was brought in to be neutered and declawed (I know declaring is bad, my current cat very much has her claws), and I was crying and yelling the whole way there that if we brought him to the vet he would die. My mom thought I was being ridiculous and dropped him off and then took me to daycamp. When she picked me up later my mom told me he had died at the vet.

The second was with our bird, which we had acquired through it just. Landing at our table in the backyard. It was a lovebird I believe? Some kind of tropical one. On my sister birthday I went to my mom and told her that the music was too loud and that the bird was going to die, I was told it would be fine. To be fair it probably wasn't the music, it's possible the window was left cracked just enough to chill a tropical bird. But it still died that day.

The third time we were heading off to school and my sisters cat was outside, it was a little snowy but not blizzarding. I told my mom we needed to let the cat inside otherwise she'd get lost and could die, I may have specified in the snow? My mom said not to worry about it. That day at school a lake effect storm moved in and that cat was never seen again.

I've also had dreams where I'm doing something mundane and they usually ended with me realizing I'd experienced them before. I'll wake up from them and be like, oh weird! And then years later I'll be playing a game with friends or something and I'll feel a growing sense of deja vu until I hit the moment I remember the dream and say that I've had a dream about this before.

20. Favorite fall treat?

Hot apple cider! The good kind of cider too, direct from a mill. Spiced if possible. There's so many good ones though. I just could drink warm spiced cider for the rest of my life and not get tired of it. I do want to try making homemade pumpkin gnocchi this year. Maybe in a herby cream sauce with roasted pumpkin seeds sprinkled on top?

36. Favorite fall tradition?

Mm. There's so many I love. I do like handing out candy though. It doesn't have to just be to kids, anyone who knocks on the door for trick or treating gets candy costume or not. I'd love to one day be the house with the super decorated yard and the big sized treats.

A more personal tradition is usually a more quiet ceremony directly on Samhain. I try to make a nice meal, and then ring in midnight with a little candlelit meditation. I try to do something like this for most holidays, but Samhain is special for some particular reasons that I don't want to dump on people because they're a bit heavy. Maybe I'll try to do the pumpkin gnocchi this year, with some roasted chicken? Or grilled, perhaps? Have to think of a dessert (maybe try making cider braised/stewed apples?)

Ask Game [X]

[vintageseawitch]

anybody else remember V for Vendetta (lol)? do you recall this scene in particular? when Chancellor Adam Sutler sits back in his chair to relax in the evening with a warm glass of milk to watch the funny man Gordon Dietrich's sketch show reminiscent of Benny Hill but approved by fascists... only to find that the particular segment made the Chancellor look like a fool, & well, he took that shit personally.

okay. one of my favorite videos to come across while mindlessly scrolling are ones that make fun of jd vance, beyond any doubt. he just enters the room & any good vibes get sucked out. he's beyond weird, creepy, & off-putting. there's no doubt to these things & more. the problem is he's someone that is being underestimated. at first it sounded a little like he was being fed lines but it's really clear now that the evil batshit things he says are things that he believes & while i think an effective tactic to fight fascism is to laugh at fascists i also think that only seeing him as a joke downplays just what kind of evil he represents. i love good characters being underestimated only to come out on top when people least expect it. evil characters that are underestimated? they're the worst sort of evil by far. he has no political charm but that won't matter should trump win.

a content creator i enjoy is Josh Johnson. his style of comedy is a comical storyteller, where he talks about real events & offers thoughtful, engaging, & funny perspectives. i love his brand of humor. anyways so he pointed out in a recent stand-up talking about the debate between Harris & trump & reminded everyone that trump decided to run for president because Barack Obama joked about him. this walking joke who everyone thought was funny & ridiculous & not to be taken seriously then wildly made it into office. even he didn't seem to realize he made it (yet still complained he didn't win the popular vote). during the debate with Harris there seemed to be a moment where she was laughing at him (can't blame her for that) where she had an, "oh shit" moment. like deja vu or PTSD. there's more than one period in history that feels like is playing again it seems.

it doesn't matter that we already know what kind of person he is. everything he touches turns to shit & half the country believes we had it better when he was running even though he was riding on the coattails of the Obama administration. our legal system has been allowing someone who literally attempted a coup to run for president again & the polls remain consistently too close for comfort. even the vp pick jd vance hasn't deterred people that much even though a large portion of maga voters don't even like the guy but goddamn do they love their grifting, felon, allegedly rich conman of a candidate who previously treated the US government like his own piggy bank.

maga wants trump for president. they seem to think a man who is only a few years younger than "too old & senile" Joe Biden is more than perfect for the role & that he will "save us" from all the "woke" or some such garbage. they don't care about the hypocrisy they display when his slurring nonsensical word salad speeches make no sense & they don't bat an eye when he slips in alarmingly authoritarian rhetoric. he "tells it like it is" but when you literally quote him back to them he "didn't mean it like that." what are these fucking cult members going to do when he finally kicks the bucket?

it's clear now that trump is the useful stooge for the Heritage Foundation, the Federalist Society, a bunch of billionaires, & other nazis. he's gotten them this massive fanbase of uneducated, brainwashed morons who hate people who are different from them so much they're more than happy to hurt themselves in the process in order for people they hate to also get hurt. so while yes, he's useful, & allows them to finally be loud with their racism, misogyny, homophobia, & xenophobia, & they won't face any real consequences, his usefulness is also running out. if they win, we get him as president: a 78 year old showing clear signs of dementia who loves dictators & thinks getting compliments means they love him & aren't using him (lol) & jd vance as vp, the evil creep with a breeding fetish & strong hatred of women.

vance is in his early 40s. he's in his first term ever as a senator & seemed to come out of nowhere but he's a calculated choice make no mistake: paid for by peter thiel, looks up to curtis yarvin, is friends with kevin roberts. jd vance has been publicly talking about not just making up dangerous stories in order to incite violence & hatred but also that the government should be brutal. you just need to dig a little & the evil is in plain sight. the issue now is he's also incredibly off-putting & socially awkward. by himself, while booksmart, he would be forgettable. just another hateful white asshole man with mommy issues & believes in shit you'd hear some creepy incel that lives in a basement would believe in (only now there's a chance he could implement said evil).

people are making fun of him relentlessly. he's given us plenty of material. most of the time he sounds like an alien or a robot who only recently learned how to pretend to be a human being. now i don't have an issue with being socially awkward; i'm pretty awkward myself & know there's plenty of people out there who are as well but it's just so bizarre that the Republican vp candidate has the charm & charisma of period cramps or a horde of mosquitos. it's almost brilliant really. i don't think his awkwardness is an act at all but it feels like they're using this to their advantage in a way: he's being underestimated.

people are talking about it more: that vance is really who the Heritage Foundation wants as president. trump will get them into the White House should they win & they can start the horror & chaos they've been dreaming about for decades. vance is pure evil & i've been quoting from Letterkenny about him ("stand for nothing or you'll fall for anything") & the Ferengi Rules of Acquistion (number 98: "every man has his price"). it sounded like vance was once a decently progressive man. a close friend of his was a trans woman when he was in college with her. his radicalization probably started when he was in the Silicon Valley. anyways he gives me the impression that he's full of rage & other issues that he should get help for but won't since he's a white man who thinks everything is owed to him by merely existing & at first he may have been saying certain things because that's what thiel & roberts like but now vance is completely on the bandwagon. at this point it's a full speed, on fire train. he believes it & will take orders like the good little nazi that he is.

so in his being underestimated while being a complete weirdo clown, people have naturally been creating videos & posts making fun of him. they're so fucking funny. but as the election draws nearer i can't enjoy them as much. if they win they'll make the US into their version of V for Vendetta & it won't be trump who is the Chancellor. no, our Chancellor will be a guy with serious anger issues who doesn't like to be made fun of so publicly. he will make it everyone's problem.

it's only a matter of time before some people may get the Gordon Dietrich ending. these are weird, scary, uncertain times. i hope it turns out well.

[sunyandmony]

I am not fine...

May contain triggering themes, read at viewer's discretion.... All of that blah blah, enjoy- It's wonky and definitely not worth the wait.. And is also probably nowhere near the yandere category, so-- Uhhh.... I failed myself and the people that waited for this-...

(Despite the subtle hints)

"𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ժׁׅ݊ꫀׁׅܻ݊ɑׁׅժׁׅ݊" |finished BBU drabble|

When was the last time you had actually felt alive? Free? Not tired?....

It has been a long while, and you were just so tired, everything was going wrong in your life. You lost your job just a few days ago, having lost your belongings and now about to lose your apartment because of the rent you couldn't pay to the landowner.

It all started the moment you moved out from your parent's house, freshly having finished college, you had a bright future ahead of yourself if you wouldn't have trusted your coworker as much as you did. It wasn't something you could have predicted, but something you should've avoided instead.

It was currently late at night, you were preparing for bed, but didn't plan to sleep. You never had a good sleep schedule.

Childhood was just as horrible with the constant bullies at your school, it all went down so fast you don't remember when you lost your innocence at all, it was just a flash and then it all happened.

You shake off the rest of your thoughts, laying face first on your bed and grunting in pure frustration, wishing everything wasn't so unfair, so SO stupid and so difficult. Nothing was easy, when you were warned life won't go easy on you, you didn't think it would go this far to get you to the point of losing everyone and everything that you had gotten so far in your short, pathetic life.

A brief thought comes across your mind, and you shake it off once more. You won't regret anything, everything wasn't your fault, it wasn't... It wasn't.

Heavy eyelids threaten to close, and once you yawn they do, the darkness embracing you as you fall into a much needed slumber.

. . .

A tight knot in your stomach made you groan, and the bed felt oddly ticklish against your skin.You felt around yourself before leaning up, blinking several times to adjust to the sudden light and then a burst of darkness shoved your way. This wasn't your bed. An odd sensation filled your body. Nausea. You felt the world spin around you, trying to come to your senses as you took in your surroundings.

Where are you? What kind of weird fantasy, fever dream is this?? You rub at your eyes, stretching and wobbly legs managing to stand on the soft ground, and you did not have shoes on, so it felt odd and moist against your bare feet. You were in a creepy forest, surrounded by huge pine trees that lined all around you, barely able to see anything past them.

Birds chirp from somewhere around you, and you turn your back to look the other way. More trees greet your view, and you squint to see through them to no avail. You give up, deciding to shift your head and look up at the sky. You could just barely catch a glimpse of the night sky, glittering and shiny stars all over, a crescent moon covered up by darkened clouds. From here you could just barely make out a bird flying by, going out of view a moment later.

There were lots of fireflies around here, all around you and the outer sky, it was a beautiful light show while it lasted. Given you snapped back to the problem at hand. You were so lost, had no idea where you were, or how you even got here. Was it even a coincidence that it matched your image from last night? Probably not. Deja vu was such an odd thing to feel at the given moment. You don't remember having a dream as real as this one. And it might not even be a dream. (You wanna doubt that.)

You sigh to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose. Well, this sure doesn't feel like a dream, you can feel your hand, so it probably is a very realistic dream? You hope it is, unless you wanna be stuck here, you better start walking and finding a way out. Though, did you really want to go back to your weird, awful and traumatic life? Not really.

With a reluctant exhale, and a mental push, you slowly made your way forwards, stepping into the thicker, much darker forest that surrounded you. An eerie silence settled over everything all at once, and you knew it wasn't a good sign.

You quickened your pace, knowing it's not safe and trying to find a more open, safer area to rest at, your feet aching at how hard they slammed against the grass and sticks on your way. You wish you hadn't taken off your shoes at the last minute in bed, they would've been so useful right now.

Another reluctant step onwards and you feel as if fainting right here and now. It feels horrible, the aching pain in your feet had grown so much worse, and you were more than sure you had millions of small scratches and bruises all along your ankles and feet. Well, it could've been worse, at least. You could've been bleeding, heck, maybe even being watched.

That wasn't such a good thing to say, you knew from seeing so many movies that the moment someone says something of the like, or even the exact thing, would happen to them. You started to lean more against the trees, trying to not be seen, but it was a useless attempt at stealth.

Crouching down didn't help much either, it only made you slower, and the more you realized it, the more late it was. Everything has its eyes on you, there's no place safe here. Nowhere.

. . .

A minute later you slowly get up, hands clawing at the wood of the tree to stand. Once you took the first step it's all fine, the second you took the second step, a branch cracked under your feet and more than likely left a scar on its own. Great..

All the more, eyes turn to you, and footsteps get closer and closer to you until an animal that you've never seen before, bares its teeth at you and pounces forwards. If it wasn't for your brain, you wouldn't have moved, instead, you immediately started running, almost tripping several times before picking up your pace and running through the thick pine trees, avoiding tripping on rocks or twigs as the animal, only gets closer the more you lose your energy. It was tiring. A faint noise in the distance catches your attention, and you turn to look at what seems to be a river, and without a single thought running towards it.

With a lot of luck, you find your way over more twigs and immediately jump on the slippery rocks, getting to the other side without much problems. You turn your head around, seeing as the animal, now stuck on the other side, slowly backs away from the edge and disappears back into the darkness behind the bushes. God let you live another moment it seems..

For what seemed like hours of leaning against a tree, you finally gain enough strength to get up and slowly make your way further into the forest. Seeing as it is, it won't help if you stand in one place too much. Predators can, and will hunt you down at any cost it seems, not like you didn't expect it, given you're the uninvited guest here.

Not even a moment later you once more get out of the forest and almost trip down the now more than visible hill, which leads down down until you can see a big mansion sitting in the middle of… An intermontane plateaus, that is if your Biology classes were paid enough attention to. You might be wrong, but you'd assume that's what this is, because it's not a ravine…

A knot in your stomach says to just stop being so childish, but meanwhile your inner child is firing up. And which do you choose to listen to? Of course, your inner child.

You slowly lay down and then budge yourself until you start rolling down the hill, having the time of your life and giggling all the way until you reach the bottom and now laying on soft, greenery that tickles your skin with the gentle breeze. The night sky is so much prettier here than in the closed and tight pine forest that you hated for being so awfully dark.

Wait….Night sky? You have been up too long, haven't you? Though it is impossible to tell what time it is…You'd just assume it's late at night… And probably, as usual, past your bedtime hours..

A long moment of staring at the glitter stars in the sky, and with a lot of curses flowing through your body, you sit up, rubbing your eyes to woosh the sleep away. It doesn't help, you yawn and stretch not a moment later. Great, tired, lost and probably homeless too.

You get off the ground, looking at your clothes and picking off some of the dirt or dust(?) that stuck to you, letting that thought flow away. A moment later you realize that the big mansion is indeed still in front of you, you just had to turn your head upwards to realize it. Not like it would grow legs and run away, idiot..

Was this breaking in? You ask yourself, seeing as it is, the doors opened up themselves, you didn't even touch them, they just did- A long moment of contemplating before you overcome your fear and step inside, the moment you do the doors slam close behind you, making your arms flail around yourself, thinking it was someone or something behind you, while it was nothing more than the wind, probably. You hope it was the wind.

Calm down, nothing has even happened yet, chill. You took deep breaths. Was it this cold when you got here? It sure wasn't, everything was so much colder. And you felt eyes on you from every single corner you turned. You started exploring a place that is not yours. You just wish whoever owns this place isn't home or could let you stay for the night.

As odd as it is, all you found were some pictures on a few walls when you walked the hallway to your right. It wasn't much, barely helped, and you didn't feel like touching them or going as far as to steal them. You didn't wanna get some kind of curse on your possible future bloodline. You were better than that, not even the gold was much more than useless, given there's probably no way to spend it anyways.

A sudden shift in the air made you immediately turn to gaze behind yourself, nothing. You're getting paranoid at this point. Well, not paranoid, more panicked of getting caught wandering around someone's house without them letting you in or even giving you permission to look at their(?) stuff whatsoever.

With a sigh, you turn back around to the fireplace, only for your whole body to stiffen and drain like you saw a literal ghost. What you were seeing wasn't that far from one though…

A more than tall as you could tell, creature, bird, whatever, was towering over you, eyes scanning you up and down as you shrinked into yourself. It(?) wore a light pink attire adorned with two swirls in the middle, topped with a shiny object, probably as decor, and a bow tie around its neck. Or at least what you assumed, given it constantly stretched on. It was hard to tell.

Many feathers adored its persona, cartoon-ish wings and what you could guess are its paws(?), again, you weren't a genius, and the Biology lessons weren't useful right now, you forgot them all the moment you graduated. It was black as the night sky itself, glinting in the bare light. Yellow-ish to gradient red, wide eyes stared back at you with a wide smile. Was it thinking of kicking you out? It would be fair though, you did just break into its house after all.

The moment you blinked it disappeared, the second you turned to the side, it was there. "Hoo! Hooho! Well, who are you, little friend?" It speaks right into your ear, once more shifting to be in front of you, into a much bigger form, a finger under its chin as if thinking of something, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

You blur out your name with a lot of hesitation, looking at your hands and then back up at it. The moment you give it your name, it immediately leaves its thoughts to the side, now to your right, in a smaller size, putting its arm on your shoulder with a grin speaking for itself. ", that's my name, what's yours?" You ask back, perhaps it is rude or very rare, but it immediately perks up even more.

A tilt of its head, "Hooo! Little friend, you should know who I am! But, if you don't, you might as well know me as the party host! Or, if it suits your tongue more, well, Barnaby the owl!" It says, backing up from you and bowing down theatrically, eyes closed only for a moment before shooting wide open again. From this point, it looked somewhat friendly, only if you didn't count the constant staring.

A slow nod comes from you, only with the realization that you barely even meant it. Well, it is probably rude to be barely listening, but at least you know his(?) name now! Which is better than nothing. Why is your mind such a mess at such bad times? It is not worth arguing with yourself right now.

A strange sound fills the space, and you look down at yourself to realize it's your stomach. Right, you've been starving for the past, what, half a day, you'd assume. This gets the attention of Barnaby, who chuckles. "Oooh! Are you perhaps hungry, little friend?" A full on head spin and you barely have any personal space. You nod immediately after, hugging yourself. Well, at least you could trust that he won't poison you, which eases your nerves a little. He also doesn't seem to know the concept of 'personal space' from what you can see. Great…

It was very unexpected how well you got along with this owl, and from what he told you, he wasn't any normal creature you'd see day to day. You already had a feeling he might not be a living being, only being confirmed made it much weirder. Not that it bothered you, it was just, uneasy to know you were right about such a thing. Though he doesn't seem to be in any kind of pain, so maybe you're just overreacting over it.

The more you felt you knew him, the further you strayed from the true reality you came from. The fact this wasn't hell or anything of the like was a confirmation you were indeed not dead, and that it was not a dream. The food here was nice though, even the little 'barnaboos' as you heard him call them, we're such adorable little things to converse with, and somehow able to understand a little of what they're saying. Mostly through simple hand gestures.

It was a long ride, mostly staying up late, but you got through with it and survived. You could feel yourself slipping the more you tried to keep your eyes open, it was probably very late if you were this tired. A long yawn leaves you, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand almost immediately, excusing yourself which gets a light chuckle from him.

Another blink and he's once more at the back of your chair. You really weren't gonna ask how he keeps doing that, just go along and it'll be better. "Are you feeling tired, lil' friend?" He chirps, helping you up from your seat, offering his wing, which is somewhat much softer to grab onto as you balance yourself. A moment later you let go and stretch out a moment, groaning and then letting out a sigh, arms dropping to your side the next second.

You nod, body slumped over as you follow close behind him. You didn't bother to listen much to whatever he was talking about all the way till he finally led you to the guest room. Well, it seems you weren't sleeping on a couch, which is such a relief.

While he didn't seem like such a threat, you couldn't help the twist in your stomach telling you otherwise and that you had to get away from him immediately or something would happen. That wasn't the case, not yet at least. Which just proves further that maybe your instincts are getting rusty the more your adrenaline wears down on you. Another thing to worry about later on.

Was it just your brain or were you really unable to sleep?... Why is it even odd? You always slept late, but something is just off, aside from the fact that this wasn't your room. It was a bit too fancy, but at the same time not, given you coughed several times from the dust that was in the air. The bed itself, while it was immense and comfortable, your gut keeps telling you to not fall asleep yet, not yet.. Eyelids snap shut, but before you know it, they snap back open, and you look around, trying to find what could've been blamed, of course there's nothing.

A tap on the window immediately makes you sit up, looking around only to see the branch of a tree, which just kept on tapping, the harsh wind blow being the only thing you could hear aside from the tapping. This is too silent, the room envelopes in a much darker blanket once the moon is being hidden away by the clouds, a few small water drops announcing the now oncoming rain. Curtains flutter around from the currents, windows barely open, just enough so fresh air slips inside the room.

Maybe you're homesick. That would explain everything much simply. You turn on your side, hands clutching onto the pillow under your head tightly as your eyes slowly slip close, and the world fades to much more darkness than it was already drenched in. You need a better sleep schedule…

. . .

It's been only a few hours, you don't know how much you slept but do not plan on trying to find out, seeing as the rain picked up, pouring loudly outside, you'd only take a guess that it's been longer than three hours because it's the first time you actually had a proper sleep without being woken up by the alarm clock on your old nightstand, now nowhere in sight.

You rub at your eyes slightly too harshly, hissing the moment you lean your hands away. About time you find your way around here, you don't feel like you slept much, even if you probably did. You sit straight, arms held together and stretched upwards, leaning down till they touch the blanket once more with a slight pop from your bones. Well, that's a much better way to start the day… You can only guess it's day given the outside is just slightly lighter, despite the still ongoing thunderstorm.

A groan leaves your throat as you slowly slip out of bed, strolling over only to find that there is indeed a bathroom connected to this room. Much nicer than going out, you assume. With one last look, you slip inside, taking your sweet time with everything.

About a few slips and pouts later you finally got out of what you could only assume is the bathtub, given how it does not look like one you'd see in a normal everyday life but one nonetheless. A quick brush of your hair and some face washing later it's all done, all you leave behind being the dirty clothes from before and now looking around for something to change into.

As expected, you couldn't find much and so the single thing you found was more of a suit than house wear options. But what other choice did you have? A little later of tidying up the cloth you finally managed to slip it on, tying the bow tie to your neck and opening the closet doors once more to look at yourself unexpectedly liking the outfit and shining looks you gave off almost immediately.

A gradient light blue to purple adored your body, clinging onto you quite heavily. Long sleeves adored with gloves hanging onto your arms, just barely shining in the dim light with the same gradient little details hanging everywhere else. A parted dress hung onto your hips, held by another layer of the dress underneath, looking like leaves or even feathers, white fluff tickling onto the long socks that reached just slightly over your knees. Dismissed heels toppled over in the corner as you pick something easier to wear. Boots that reach over your ankles and go just about a few more inches before ending with fluff all around, a comfortable warmth on the inside of them. Exactly as you liked, well, probably liked. It's been a long time since you wore something fancy unless it was for a party or meet up.

Where were you going anywhere with this outfit? Was something special happening that you probably didn't know about? Most likely that's the case. With a long sigh, you close the closet doors, looking away and at your hands for a long time. Thinking it all over again didn't seem to help. How much time did you spend looking at yourself anyways?...

You ponder to yourself before going out of your room, slamming the door close behind you and not looking back as you walk without a clue where you're going in a way that could only be described as tired.You're tired of anything and everything at the same time, yet you don't dare show it, sliding a neutral expression on your face to make sure it wouldn't be that obvious.

It was however more than obvious that you didn't feel like talking to anyone or anything else around here, except for the little barnaboos that are mostly everywhere, seemingly preoccupied with their own things to pay much attention to you as you passed by each room. A while later of walking down the seemingly endless hallway, you finally arrive back at the front where you have been not long ago. It's eerily silent as each of your steps echoes right into your ear drums awfully louder than you expected.

Each time you take another step, you feel much closer to something you can't quite make out in your thoughts, shaking your head as you bump into something, or someone and scramble back, catching your balance just in time as to not fall and make it even more embarrassing that you were once more with your head into the clouds.

A chortle came from above you, and immediately your hands came up to your face, hiding away your expression that was on the brink of exploding into tears. That is, if the person who made that sound wasn't more than obvious. "Hoohoo! Friend! You're awake- Took you sooo looongg! But that does not matter, you're awake now, and we can finally get going!" Barnaby offers you his fluffy appendage as the world shifts all at once, and in a literal instant you're moved.

You feel like literally throwing up, the knot in your stomach too tight for comfort. A stumble forwards and you're immediately embraced by more soft and skilled wings. A chuckle leaves your friend as you struggle to stand on your own while he just abuses the obvious size difference between the two of you. Once you're turned, wings under your armpits, you just give up and pout in defeat. He let's go once you're settled down, leading you down yet another similar hallway like the many others.

Huge doors welcome you, opening before you have even stepped close enough to touch its split handles. Barnaby slouches over, one wing onto his chest as the other is (probably) pointing towards the immense ballroom in front of you. A snort leaves your throat as you bow back to him and enter the room, and of course he doesn't have to follow much, appearing right above you and giving you another good scare.

Without stalling backwards, you just freeze in your spot trying to look unfazed while you would've screamed. You're doing this just to not give him the satisfaction of another screaming charade that you learnt from experience only makes you more terrified the next time he'd do it again. A minute later you finally snap out of your thoughts, waving them to the side to take in your surroundings.

An immense ballroom the size of a whole stadium greets your eyes. While everything was dark, the decorations alone got you feeling nostalgic about this place. Little pumpkin stickers hung onto strings, different expressions on each individual one, and between each of the pumpkins were spiders of different sizes and shapes, mostly out of paper or cartons. To say the side little stars on the dark ceiling weren't a nice addition was just as false as saying the sun is better than the moon, given both are good.

The stars glowed in the dark, which was even better, the white soft yet bright lights able to be seen from even a long distance away.

Actual real spiders hang around the chandeliers on the ceiling, wood creaking with each movement they make. And even a room that's made of wood can be a ballroom, which is incredible to say the least about. Given most ballrooms you've seen were very shiny and much cleaner, this one was clean, too, but not shiny, and it did not bother you at all. As once again, fancy was not what you wanted, and perhaps this would help you more as to remember why you won't miss the ballrooms back on Earth.

. . .

Why was everyone talking about your friend so lowly at times? Was he really bad or was it just them hating him? You couldn't tell, not one bit and it annoyed you from the inside out. Why? You didn't know, but given he is your first friend after your dreams and hopes crashed out the window…you were probably not even gonna need to guess anymore. It was obvious.

Your past explains everything much more simply than you would if you tried. Your trauma adding up onto anything you do and weighting your choices down. It's awful to be aware of it, but you can't do much about it. Your past speaks for itself once more as your feet move without your command as your blocks out every other noises or voices. A particular spider caught your attention, and you approached its shared webs slowly so as to not alarm it.

It hisses slowly at you before silence takes over once more. The spider is about the size of your whole palm, if not bigger than that. It has almost invisible marks on its back, a swirl and a center point where it stops with obviously eight legs that slowly raise and fall. Something to show it is indeed aware you're there even if it can't see you despite having so many eyes that glow a soft white as well.

You slowly approach until you're just two steps away from it, shaking hand raising hesitantly. You weren't afraid of it, you were afraid of what it could do to you. It slowly turned before climbing into your hand, fitting just perfectly on there. Fangs glint in the low light as it becomes nothing more than a fluff ball now sitting on your palm. You would literally melt if you could.

A silhouette hovers over you. "Oooh~ Getting along with all the guests! Aren't you just the most mannered one!!" A voice you already knew speaks from behind you. You don't have to turn to see, he is already in front of you the second you look up. A quick bob of your head and then you let the spider down back on its webs, strolling away as you're once more led to the middle of the room. There was no one here though.

The particular paws you know as Barnaby's cover your eyes and you're not able to see a thing. Great. "Hey! Shoo! Hands down-" You retort to his actions, your much smaller hands coming to grasp onto his own, doing little to nothing as he doesn't budge one bit from everything you try. The world shifts all too quickly as your drowsy self almost collapses once the darkness drains away a second later.

You catch your breath just as quickly, hands onto your knees as you slouch over. When did the air leave you?? Another sharp intake of breath and you feel still horrible, your sweaty hands not helping by trembling so much. In fact, your whole body is trembling as you look up only to immediately stumble backwards and your back to land on some particularly soft feathers.

The room wasn't empty any more, and it was full of deadly things from which some stared at you as if they could sense they're no longer invisible to your human vision. Another deep breath. Several more ghosts and specters turn around to face you. Where did the vampires come from? This place is definitely cursed, or worse yet you probably are cursed now. Perfect. Your heart races in your chest as you catch your breath and balance yourself. Everyone and everything is staring at you much to your dismay.

A cheery voice fills the space all around you, and as much as you want to cover your ears, you can't bring yourself to do it. "Hoohoo! Gentlemans, ladies and people of all kinds! I, Barnaby, announce as the party host, to welcome our little star guest!" Voices whisper all around you before clapping fills the room as you wish to shrink into yourself as much as you could. That's not possible.

Your brain, instead of running or doing anything, decides it's best to just stay..Until it's over…You were not that weak nor scared.. And without seeing the danger ahead of yourself too..

I got Cola and Pepsi while writing this :>

I'm very sane and fine, totally.. 🧍‍♀️

Did anyone get the reference though?...

@hauntedkonton , @the-host-with-the-most-12 , @ieatsoap1 and whoever else enjoys BBU or just Barnaby- idk🧍‍♀️

[jowiththeflow]

The Bonus Disc:

Izuku discovered the time travel Quirk when he was a kid. He used it to save Katsuki—the first time he fell in creek (you know the canon moment) he hit his head and was badly injured, so Izuku reset the day. Only once, though, because the second time Katsuki fell he was fine, even if he did think Izuku was looking down on him.

When Izuku tried to tell others about the Quirk when he was younger, nobody believed him because time traveling Quirks, up to that point, had never been seen before. And unfortunately, he still has the extra toe joints indicative of Quirklessness, so everyone interpreted it as the Quirkless boy being desperate enough for a Quirk he would make something up.

In my notes, this Quirk is called "Memory."

Because Izuku's been so isolated, he hasn't really seen all it can do. For instance, although he can reset any day for any reason, when he resets a day for something specific to a person, that person gets drawn into the Quirk as well in a lesser way. This is why Tsuyu can sort of remember the previous loops at the end, because she was his focus.

For these people, this sort of just presents as a series of weird dreams and vague ideas. That kind of deja vu that's just slightly aggravating and not helpful.

Katsuki actually has some recollection of his first saving too, so he always somewhat believed Izuku when he said he had a Quirk, though he would never admit to it.

As canon proceeds in this universe and with this Izuku's Quirk, I imagine more people would get drawn into its effect too—but Tsuyu will always be special for being the first, and she will always be his rock.

There you go! A few bonus details about Just a Memory that never made it into the story. I hope you enjoyed reading this, and I'd love to here your thoughts! (:

[arcplaysgames]

Ah, so Persona goes for the great white nothingness sort of afterlife rather than the deep dark void afterlife.

Margaret arrives to tell Reverie to stop being a lazy piece of shit and to listen to his friends to remember how to fight. It's basically Reverie Vs The Nyx Egg all over again. I wonder if he has a sense of deja vu here...

Mmhm, eyes getting itchy.

CRITICAL HIT. Oh my god Chie's VA is so fucking good. I'm clearing my throat.

OOP THAT'S IT I'M FUCKED. I'm crying. His voice is so fucking soft and entreating, I'm a goner. Between Kanji and Chie, I was def crying.

BRUH I didn't expect NAOTO to get me.

.... ADACHI?!

YOU KNOW WHAT ADACHI

YOU CAN HAVE THAT ONE, I WILL ALLOW IT. You're great, Adachi, it's been an honor, man.

OH NOOOOOOOOO don't do me like this

Anyway this bit is great. Nothing will hit like Shinjiro's unsubtitled call to action in P3P Reverie's ear but this is good shit regardless.

And lemme guess, they are the Universe Arcana.

That circle sword is cool as hell.

OKAY SO SIDEBAR

This fucking battle needs some fucking Hopes And Dreams-level shit. I'm sorry but to put on my FULLY NEGATIVE HAT FOR A SEC, this entire sequence would land 10000% better if the music was good. But I literally didn't even notice the music the entire time? I think it's on a very very long loop so there's some fun brassy horns but you gotta wait like two minutes for them to come in.

I've talked shit about the music in P4G before because truly P3P's OST fucked, but also THIS SEQUENCE SUFFERS A LOT FOR HAVING MEDIOCRE MUSIC.

I hope someone eventually mods it to have a fucking banger or two.

This part is pretty fucking great. Big fan.

Yaaaaaaaay.

I guess what I'm curious about is was this boss in the original version..... but wait, yeah, she has to be to explain everything.

Now that I've seen the whole sequence, I'm gonna be a negative nancy for a moment.

This whole ending is, uh, weird? It feels weird. Like, I almost think I prefer the ending with Ameno-Sagiri to this one because it felt more impactful after fighting Adachi. It feels like the game keeps answering the same questions over and over since then. I appreciate getting a final answer on why the three folks had Persona/TV powers, but also... It feels like....

The gas attendant did it! Gasp!

Also, like with Marie, there was this inorganic element to her whole plotline. But in the end, I kind of liked that!

But with Izanami, it feels tacked on in the same way but without the justification. The answer to the mystery is very "oh." Rather than "OOOOOOH" which we all know Persona can do.

Also, the entire plotline with Izanami literally only makes sense if you listened to Edogawa's lecture some 40 hours ago! And it's NEVER hinted anywhere else!

I think that's what I'm chafing against. Having the history explained in a lecture is totally fine. but when I got that lecture, I was like "ha i bet this is important!" and then I completely forgot that lecture because no one fucking brings it up again!

I am frustrated because I feel like this game does know what the fuck foreshadowing and story structure are, but it totally dropped the ball. It's to a point I wonder if like... something was lost in translation? Is something missing here?

Eh. JUST ANOTHER REASON PERSONA 3 PORTABLE IS BETTER.

Lets tackle the ending.