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bonzos-number-1-fan · 3 months

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What DPHW Means, and Its Relationship to Smirke's 14

The following contains spoilers for all of TMA, TMP (eps 1, 2, and 3 released currently if you’re in the future), and the ARG. Spoilers for all of this are throughout so I would advise against reading any of this unless you've listened to everything mentioned. It could also spoil episodes of TMP that have yet to release but if it does I don't think it will be a major spoiler. If I'm right I think I'm only right about a fairly trivial piece of information.

Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre

Part 1: Opticks

Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. With or without Dekker's +1. It is, however, necessary and correct. It has also been talked about ad nauseam and isn't a topic I want to dedicate a lot of time to. Smirke's 14+1, or even TMA in general, isn't the focus of this theory nor is it that relevant past its necessity as a point of comparison.

There aren't 14+1 distinct entities in the TMA cosmology. There is a singular entity that has been given divisions by fear and labels by those that have witnessed it. There is no objective line in which to draw these divisions. No matter where you put them or what you name them these concepts will always bleed into each other. Aspects of one Entity will manifest in another because the labels are invented and Fear is a storm of concepts crashing into each other. That's not a flaw in Smirke's list but its strength. A single entity of that scale is impossible to discuss in meaningful terms, the concept has too much gravity to be properly conceptualised and so an entire spectrum of fear must be divided in order to combat it. Categorisation is a vital part of TMA's cosmology and Smirke was as correct as anyone to put those lines down where he did. The real flaw with Smirke's list is forgetting the spectrum exists and stopping seeing the shades in between the Powers.

Finding a way to categorise this concept is important, but the methodology isn't. Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. The only truth is there is a singular whole. But branding goes a long way both in terms of research and in terms of following. This branding lacks accuracy though, it is in large part arbitrary and by its nature removes the shades and the bleed. TMP takes a different approach, one only hinted at, but one that I think is now fully explainable.

Part 2: Lost in Translation

Perhaps the most interesting mystery in TMP thus far is DPHW. However, I think based on episodes 1 and 2 of TMP (and now 3), and the Klaus excel sheet from the ARG, we have all we need to explain its utility.

In order to show that conclusion in a satisfactory manner some basic facts need stating, and the order of my thoughts on those facts needs explaining. Firstly, each DPHW is 4 digits. Secondly, each DPHW is read as 4 numbers rather than, say, a pair of 2 numbers. Thirdly, these numbers can change independently of each other. Fourthly, incidents may share CAT#R#'s but have a different DHPW as found in the Klaus sheet (a German document listing OIAR-style incident reports). Finally, the German equivalent of DPHW is TSHU also found in the Klaus sheet. We can use those facts to determine something important. Each letter of this initialism is paired with a digit meaning that DHPW is a group of 4 categories. If that is true we can intuit some of its meaning. It is likely that these numbers are a rating of sorts for each category there. To prove that's the case we would need to know the categories and fortunately we have a starting point to understanding it, German.

If the categories that DPHW describes start with the letters TSHU in German then what needs to be done to find the categories is quite simple. You pair each letter up and then find a suitable word to categorise the supernatural whose first letter starts with the respective letter from the initialism in its language. D/T, P/S, H,H, W/U. After some brainstorming in the Statement Remains PLUS Discord server we had come up with strong candidates for 3 of the 4 pairs.

The first was Deadly/Tötlich, a seemingly solid start that gave this theory some legs. Next was Painful/Schmerzlich which was a distinct enough category for the threat of an incident that proved this was a strong direction to head it. H/H proved more troublesome. To my mind the two strongest contenders here were Hypnotic/Hypnotisch or Helpless/Hilflos. Both sound very reasonable but that in itself is a problem. However the last one was found relatively easily as Weird/Unheimlich. With 3 of the 4 it seemed like this was all but correct at this stage. However, I had been thinking about this backwards and it wasn't until I had a revelation that the pieces really fell into place.

Unheimlich sounded familiar when it was suggested but not in a way I could place. It wasn't until the next day that the aforementioned revelation happened. The ARG had a huge focus on Germany, and Ep 1 of TMP revealed why. FR3-D1 uses German source code which makes German the original language for the OIAR's methodology. Meaning DPHW is the translation, and I now think it's a shoddy one at best. The reason unheimlich sounded so familiar to me is because it's a fairly important part of psychology's history.

DPHW's Weird isn't weird, DPHW's Weird is uncanny. A direct translation could give you weird but a more accurate one, especially in this instance, gives you unheimlich. Unheimlich as in Jentsch's "Zur Psychologie des Unheimlichen", and Freud's "Das Unheimlich". Both of which are essays on the uncanny. It's all about the fear of the unfamiliar, and a central example of this is Olympia from Der Sandmann, a seemingly living doll.

The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar... - Freud, The Uncanny

This is incredibly relevant to a lot of what has been discovered so far. The uncanny as a topic in psychology was kickstarted by two Germans, and a central part of their essays was the German Der Sandmann, and a German, SSandman, was a large presence in the ARG. The strength of this connection all but solidified this theory in my mind. And, briefly, this is also related to Masahiro Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis which I'm sure I won't need to explain.

The obvious way to test this is to take the few W ratings we have been given and compare them to the incident to which they're assigned. The first is from Ep 1, “dolls comma watching”, and was given a 7. This is a good start both in that a 7 feels appropriate as an "uncanny rank" but also that a doll is a focal point on the essays on the subject. Also in Ep 1 is "Reanimation (Partial)", again with a 7. Another very appropriate number. The last in Ep 1 is "Transformation (eyes)" with a 5. Certainly less uncanny than the previous examples so this is still strong. In Ep 2 we get a 5 for Bram Stoker's Dracula, which seems more than fair for a strange man like him, and a 7 for Frankenstein which gives parity for another story of the resurrected dead. Finally we get "Transformation (full)" at a 7, more uncanny than "Transformation (eyes)" which tracks nicely.

With what I felt was such a strong theory for the W/U pairing it helped clarify the ideas of the others. The final digit rating the uncanniness of an incident gives an idea of how these categories work and the breadth of their definitions. Up until this point I was leaning towards Hypnotic/Hypnotisch for our H/H pairing. But giving it more thought, and comparing it to TMA's own groupings, it becomes apparent that Helpless/Hilflos is more appropriate. Hypnotic effects are too aligned with things that would already be very aligned with Uncanny ones, the Stranger's Not!Them alter memories and prey on the fear of something being not quite right, so as a categorisation tool I think it makes less sense because of the greater overlap. Helpless on the other hand works better for things like The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Aspects which I don't think show up in our current other 3 groups. But given the current definition of the strongest category, the fear of the uncanny, I think that helplessness is a more apt label. The fear of helplessness. Which makes H Helplessness/Hilflosigkeit.

With this level of breadth established re-examination of the final two categories is warranted. Painful/Schmerzlich is more likely to be Pain/Schmerz. Not just incidents that are themselves painful but the fear of pain, possibly including the emotional. A comparison to TMA gives this rating a strong affiliation with Entities such as The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Similarly Deadly/Tötlich should now be broadened beyond the fear of things that will kill you, to the fear of death in a broader sense. Which makes D/T Death/Tod instead. To compare again to TMA this is The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Although, while I might be describing these ideas as the fear of ____ I think it's important to know that they do appear to be more conceptual in nature rather than just if something is scary or not.

Comparing each of these assumed categories against current DPHW’s strengthens this argument. “Dolls, watching” scored 1157. It’s a very low fear of death and pain, but they present a medium fear of helplessness and a high fear of the weird. For a fear that’s rooted in paranoia that makes good sense. “Reanimation (Partial)” got a very similar rating, at 5257, but it being a corpse cranks up its fear of death. “Transformation (eyes)” got 2155 which, again, seems to fall in place with what we know. It’s more human than the doll is so it’s less weird but a physical and alarming transformation naturally seems like more of a terminal concern. Combine that with some good ol' internet death threats and it's not nothing, but not much.

As a small aside, while it's not come up in the episodes so far the Klaus sheet shows DPHW's are 0-9. There is a good bit of evidence to suggest 0 might be read as 10 here. 0 most commonly showed up in that sheet for P and the incidents often had the notes "Kriegsvolk". Literally "war people" but more accurately "army/soldier". So pain of 10 for those would track better than P of 0, and it explains why things like the watching doll rate a 1 for D and P instead of a 0, and Dr. Webber's infection is a P of 1 despite entirely removing physical and emotional pain as it goes. Because 1 is the lowest.

For Ep 2 we start with Dracula scoring a 7465, he’s undead and a killer for high death, if he kills you it hurts but it’s not extreme, he’s both hard to physically stop and has mental tricks, and he’s just a weird dude in general who always seems off somehow. Frankenstein at 5337 has aforementioned parity with the reanimation incident as you’d expect but notably less on the helplessness rating as he is just a man. Next is “Transformation (full)” at 1567. This is generally a more severe rating overall than Transformation (eyes) and you’d expect that, but I think it does show something interesting. At no point did Daria want to end her own life. The transformation is far more severe, arguably looks more life threatening, and was clearly more painful but it is explicitly and repeatedly not about dying. I take that as a suggestion that these ratings take into account more than just the mundanely observable nature of the incident. She looks very sick which would make you think of death but it rates low for it because of the emotional, or maybe supernatural, purpose of the incident. She didn’t want to die, the manifestation didn’t try to kill her, and so despite its appearance it’s low on death.

Then finally in Ep 3, we have "Infection (full body)" with a 8175. (Although I'm assuming that's a misfile and it should be Infection (Arboreal)). I think D and H here are more interesting to dig into. P is pretty obvious it's the lowest rating because it seemed actively pain-numbing as it went. W being 5 tracks too is certainly uncanny and has strange geometry but it's not full Distortion levels. So with those two out of the way we can get to the good stuff. D is the most interesting of the two to me. Because while it's pretty clear he died I don't think that's got much to do with it. Rather I think the 8 is more specifically about the way it deals with death, decay, and rot in relation to new life and the growth of other things, plants and insects. Thematically, I think there is a lot more emphasis on death as a broader concept beyond the terminal nature of the infection. For Helplessness there is also an additional element beyond whether or not he was able to do something about the infection, and that's whether he wanted to. As the symptoms worsened his desire to treat them decreased. Initially he was worried about the infection and determined to seek attention when able, then he was happy to let someone else help instead (a hallucination, which makes things more helpless), before finally wanting it to happen. These sorts of elements are things I think we're going to see factor in quite a lot.

In summary; it is my belief that DPHW is a way to rate incidents that the OIAR catalogue based upon the strength of the fear they elicit in the categories of death, pain, helplessness, and weird (uncanny). This system is effectively the TMP equivalent to Smirke's 14 from TMA. Rather than assigning each statement to an Entity each incident is rated for those qualities. These systems are distinct methodologies but each is a way to categorise the supernatural.

Part 3: On Analogy

That is the juicy bit of this post out of the way so now I have to put a bow on it and touch upon the overarching analogy here. As alluded to by the title and some turns of phrase, it's colour theory. It's a somewhat common analogy for TMA's fears but I think it applies in equal measure to TMP and taken together might provide an insight into how the cosmologies will differ. So, to me, colour theory is not only the perfect lens in which to view the Fears as a whole, it's the perfect lens to view these methodologies.

Smirke is Newton. He broke up a singular spectrum into wide chunks. The Dread Powers themselves are very analogous to a colour wheel. Colours bleed into each other and the boundaries of where one stops and starts is up for debate but red is still red, and blue is blue. That is a useful context for them, it aids discussion. Try talking about red without ever saying red and only referring to a representation of a divided whole. But all too similar to Newton's 7 colours Smirke's 14 lacks nuance, it lacks shade.

On the other hand we have DPHW and this is all shade. DPHW is CMYK. It's not one thing or another with DPHW. You don't have the pitfall of Smirke's methodology where one manifestation is in one arbitrary box. Here, assuming I'm correct, each incident is made up of constituent parts. The OIAR, and presumably its German forebear, are less interested in Smirke's occult ancient gods and more interested in bureaucratic precision. Smirke was doing research while the OIAR are doing administration. As such DPHW takes a wholly different approach. It's now all shades. This has its own problems in that it's harder to discuss in broad terms. It's such a specific methodology that it's lost a lot of what Smirke triumphed with. This is well represented already given that no one has been shown to know what it means at all yet. But if there is a truly different cosmology at play here we might see the axes of DPHW being where alliances fall.

All that leaves us with is a comparison of these two. The only way to really do that is to talk about how Smirke's 14+1 would fit in DPHW's system. This is something I touched upon briefly. Death is strongly related to The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Pain to The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Helplessness to The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Weird to the Stranger, or the Spiral. But that's not all of them and even within those it's already clear that something like The Vast isn't just about helplessness, and we've already seen Daria who would likely be an avatar of the Flesh rank highly in Weird. Which hits upon what I feel is the most interesting aspect of this entire theory. We've seen what happens with Smirke's boundaries on the Entities. We don't know if Entities even exist in this setting, or if they do exist whether they'll be the same ones, or even if they're not the same ones whether they'll function under similar rules. But now we get to see what happens when there aren't those boundaries. We get to see much broader mingling than TMA showcased. It was hinted at there, especially early on before the lore really settled, but now that mingling seems to be the whole point.

And as a brief mention, and to further labour the theme, I don’t think there is enough information to really discuss how CAT#R# works but there are some analogies to work with here. From the Klaus sheet we can infer that CAT# has the following values 1/2/3/12/13/23/123. Or three non-mutually exclusive groups. What those groups are is hard to say right now. There is some soul/body/spirit stuff for the alchemic tria prima that's got some nice connections but doesn't map well now that Ep 3 is out. Either way, this is RGB. An incident can be all red, or red and blue, etc. R#'s values we can infer to be C/BC/B/AB/A/S with maybe an AS in there too. That's a linear scale of similarly unknown value but could represent something like potency/threat. If that is the case then R# is saturation. Some things are more intense than others. We also know from the Klaus sheet that CAT is the German from the "kategorie" meaning "category" the R was from the German “rang” meaning “rank” and so probably has more meaning to it than currently implied.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theories #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation #the magnus archives #tma theory #Reposted because I'm a human now #I was human before but Tumblr disagreed #klaus = kl4-u5

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vesora · 10 months

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there is no past

ive been avoiding making posts because all the info u need is already posted but i saw making this post in a 'dream' so might as well

so what exactly is the past? it is an event or experience that precedes the present time.

however if you have been in the loa community for long you may have realised that the only time that exists is now. i had mentioned this briefly in a previous post but i will expand.

the past and the future are concepts made up of thought and false identification. there is essentially no proof of your past existing except from in your mind. therefore how can we be extremely sure that the past actually exists and it's not something we made up?

there is no difference between an 'imagined' past and a past you think you experienced. they both exist in the mind. it is your false identification with an illusory past that makes you believe that what you see in the '3D' is real, when in fact if you choose your 'past' to be different, the '3D' will 'change' accordingly. this is why neville introduced the topic of revision. everything in this world is malleable. the only reason you see the world as solid is because you assume it's solid. if you believed it was liquid, then it would be liquid. there are no objective facts in this world, only what YOU as the creator deems to be true.

isn't this incredibly liberating? nothing from your past holds you back, because it doesn't exist except in your mind! and guess what? YOU are in control of your mind so you can have your desired past where you experience the things you want to and which reflect on the present day.

every moment is a moment you can start afresh. every new moment is a moment you are liberated from your subconscious habits. destroy what you do not want to experience and let it be destroyed. do not come back to it, it does not exist. maybe your ego wants you to revisit it and you become trapped in the clutches of your own mind and your reality becomes a prison, but how silly is that for a God? when you wish to paint, you gather acrylics or watercolours and buy some brushes but without the action of you painting, the canvas remains empty. it remains as it was before because you did not decide to paint. you just stared at the canvas just wishing, hoping, it would change. there is no such thing as 'inspired' action or any of that law of attraction BS. what i am talking about is the act of DECIDING and ACCEPTING that YOU are the painter and the world is your canvas.

don't fall into the trap of just reading posts and understanding it intellectually, apply it. there is literally nothing holding you back, NOTHING. the human body cannot manifest but YOU can. the habits, memories, and thoughts of the mind are illusory. YOU have the power to choose what you want to experience by consciously identifying yourself as the person you wish to be and identify yourself as the life you wish to live. there is no duality, you ARE it now.

although we have said it countless times, leave the world alone. it only listens to your command. it does not exist without you being aware of it, so why not choose to be aware of something you desire? why not choose to be aware of a different past?

there is nothing to do except realise that the human body-mind is illusory. it cannot hold you back. it cannot MAKE you experience something you, as the creator, do not want to.

be free! you are in control. there is nothing outside of you. all is happening within you. you have an abundance of joy and resources within you, access it. live a life you deserve. take life easy. have fun with the human experience. be your own anchor and be grounded in your own power as god.

#law of assumption #loa #manifestation #neville goddard #manifesting #loassumption #self concept #lester levenson

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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hi mads! how r you? i was wondering if i may request a enemies to lovers with fake dating between reader and steve? where she's shy and kinda nice with everyone but somehow doesn't get along with him... and suddenly they have a situation and have to pretend to be dating... btw, love your writing!

i’m doing well and i hope you are too :) thank you for the request and i’m so happy you enjoy my writing that means so much to me! i hope you like this and i hope it's okay i'm making it multiple parts!

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

Part One | part two | part three | part 4

summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan (understatement of the year), so why does he ask you to be his fake girlfriend for a wedding?

content: enemies to (eventual) lovers, fake dating, mentions of drinking, swearing, a guy at the bar is kind of creepy, mentions of reader and eddie having a past fling, use of y/n (not too often)

word count: 3.7K

a/n: this is a little shorter than I anticipated, but I’m going to try and make future parts longer.

There’s something strange about having an “enemy”. Especially when that enemy is Steve Harrington. You don’t exactly consider him an arch nemesis, but there’s really no other way you can describe your relationship with him. You aren’t friends with him by any means, not anymore, despite your several attempts at kindness.

Cupcakes you made him got thrown in the trash, smiles you’ve given him had been reciprocated with glares, and every time you spoke was the perfect time for him to roll his eyes.

No matter how many times you try to pinpoint a moment in your life where you might’ve offended him or done something to make him have such a great dislike for you, there’s nothing you can come up with.

You never had many interactions with Steve in high school, which isn’t very surprising. You always tried to stay in the background with your nose buried in a book and he was the complete opposite of that.

You admit you had a teeny tiny crush on him in high school, much like the other girls. How could you not? He was so charismatic and carried himself with confidence. You weren’t as immune to the Harrington charm as much as you liked to pretend you were.

It wasn’t until he became friends with Robin a few years ago that you had your first real conversation with him. She’s been your best friend since you were six and if she was convinced he changed, then you were willing to give him a chance.

He seemed like a completely different person than the boy you used to pass in the halls as he talked about how wasted he got the night before with his herd of wannabe Steves.

He was friendly and also a little bit of a clutz. Sort of awkward, as well. He was still handsome, though. A lot more handsome. His eyes were kinder and his hair as lovely as ever. You always wondered how it managed to still look so soft after that much product usage.

After the first two months of what seemed to be a friendship, he flipped the switch. His words to you became grumbles and he always kept a distance from you, like he’d go into anaphylactic shock if any part of him accidentally brushed yours.

It drove you mad. The one thing in life you always tried to do was treat everyone with kindness no matter what and he made it nearly impossible. You had more friends in your life now than you thought imaginable and it was nearly perfect, but all you seemed to be focused on is how much Steve hates you.

From Steve’s point of view, he would never outright say that he hates you. It’s more of an annoyance. Your shared friend group constantly raves about how great and delightful you are. The kids, who aren’t kids anymore but always will be to Steve, idolize you. Everyone thinks you walk around with rainbows and sprinkles shooting out of every single one of your orifices.

You and your delicious baked goods that you make in celebration every time someone so much finds a lucky penny on the ground. You and your stupid perfume that makes you smell like a damn bouquet of flowers. Your dumb dimples and eyes that some might claim light up a room every time you smile. Don’t even get him started on the short, nonsensical pleated skirts you wear.

You’ll probably be wearing one of those skirts tonight when you all go out for drinks later and he dreads it, terribly. Definitely not because he’s attracted to you, no, that’s insane, but because of all the guys that are going to swoon over you and he’ll have to be responsible for making sure none of those creeps try to touch you.

Robin made it very clear to him early on that you are off limits. She told him he wasn’t ready for a girl like you. You’re different from the girls he takes on dates and sleeps with. You aren’t a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of gal, as she put it. . She said you’re a hopeless romantic, spending the rest of your life with one person, the type of love they write songs about, kind of gal. Steve wants to settle down one day, but he also isn’t ready for that yet.

Apparently, Robin forgot to give Eddie the same speech because Steve caught the two of you in a hot and heavy makeout sesh at a party awhile ago. Steve put all of the puzzle pieces together that you and Eddie were secretly hooking up. It wasn’t hard to figure out with all the glances, giggles, and body language. Plus, the sexual tension was so obvious.

No one else knew, neither of you even know that Steve’s aware anything ever happened.

Yes, you and Eddie were hooking up. Past tense. It was nice at first, way more than nice. You’d never done the whole no strings attached thing and you felt comfortable with him, but then you both quickly realized that it would end in complete disaster and called off the agreement. Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness after, but you did miss him sometimes.

It was gratifying to be out of your comfort zone, but you needed more. You wanted a love that felt like an easy Sunday morning everyday, but as long as you were confined to Hawkins, you doubt that you’d ever find it.

The bar was absolutely packed tonight, crawling with regulars, college kids back for the summer, and high school students with fake ids. There was a bachelor party sitting in the corner shouting obscenities and catcalling any girl that walked by them.

It was overwhelming. Usually this place, even on its busiest night, is still manageable to walk to.

Your walk to the table where your friends are sat feels like you’re climbing mount everest.

“y/n! you’re here!” Robin hops out of her seat at the high top table and throws her arms around you, squeezing you a little too tight. You can smell the tequila on her breath and her cheeks are flushed. That, combined with her affection for you, alerts you she’s one drink away from being hammered.

Everyone else happily greets you, apart from Steve who gives you a tight lipped smile and takes a drink of his beer so he doesn’t have to say hi because god forbid he speaks one of the shortest words in the english language to you.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink. Does anyone need anything?” you ask. “I’ll go get your drink. It’s a madhouse in here, what do ya want?” Eddie offers and you lay your hand on his shoulder, making Steve subtly roll his eyes so no one notices. “That’s sweet, Eds, thank you. I’ll have a vodka cran please”

“He’s, like, so in love with you” Robin says and you laugh. Steve laughs too, but not out of being humored like you are. “He’s not in love with me. He’s just nice, unlike most of the guys in here” you say the last part a bit louder and look at Steve when you say it. His eyes roll again and you think that must be the only thing he’s good at because he does it all the time.

“Your beverage, madam” Eddie says as he hands you your drink and sets down a tray of tequila shots for the table. “Do we really need more shots, Eddie?” Steve groans. “Tapping out already, Harrington? I guess we shouldn’t be surprised” you tease and he scoffs. “Oh, that’s just rich coming from you”

“heyheyhey, can you two have your lovers quarrel another time? We’re all here to have a good time, okay?” Robin reminds you and you give her a sorry smile. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s not waste this tequila!” you exclaim

You all cheers your shot glasses and when you lick the salt of your hand, Steve’s eyes can’t leave you. He’s still staring when you put the lime in your mouth afterwards, you close your eyes in satisfaction and suck out all the juices. He hopes he never has to watch you take another shot again.

When your eyes open, you see Steve staring at you and he immediately looks away and pretends to be occupied by whatever the bachelor party to his left is doing. His mind drifts to the wedding he has to go to next weekend. One of his cousins on his fathers side of the family is getting married and he’s dreading it. Being surrounded by his snooty, rich family members who are all CEO’s of some business and they’re all married to or engaged to the ‘perfect woman’ that they undoubtedly cheat on while away on ‘business’ trips.

Speaking of business, they can’t keep their noses out of Steve’s life. When are you going to get a ‘real’ job?, when are you gonna settle down and have kids?, are you still living in that tiny apartment?. So no, he isn’t exactly looking forward to telling his family he’s a single loser who practically lives in a shoebox.

“Steve? Are you okay?” your voice brings him back from his thoughts. “Yep. perfectly fine”

“Ya sure? You seem distracted” he hates that you care. Eighty percent of the time, you’re still so nice to him, apart from a few jabs every now and then, despite his coldness towards you. “Just thinking, so you don’t have to pretend that you care.”

“Okay…I’m gonna go to the bathroom” you say before leaving the table.

“Why are you such a dick to her? She’s the nicest one out of all of us.” Eddie’s tone is sharp as he defends you. “I’m just stressed about this wedding I have to go to and my entire family is going to be there and I’m the only one without a date so that’s just another thing they’re going to criticize me for” Steve sighs and looks down at his drink.

“How about that girl you went out with last month? Trisha?” Nancy suggests and Steve scrunches his nose. “No can do. I realized I slept with her roommate after the first date” he cringes at the memory of walking into her apartment and seeing a familiar face sitting on the couch.

“You could borrow nance? She’d just have to take off the engagement ring” Jonathan jokes and the table laughs. Steve considers it for a half of a second, but realizes his parents already know about her engagement to jonathan. “Nice job, Steve. You let the only decent girl who liked you get away and now she’s with that byers boy” he recalls his dad saying in a snarky tone.

“I have the perfect idea!” Robin exclaims and everyone waits for her to continue “you should ask y/n to be your date!”

“That’s a terrible idea, Robin. Why would I do that?” It isn’t a terrible idea. His family would be over the mood to see him with a girl like you. You’re kind, funny, smart and gorgeous, but he’d never admit those things to anyone, least of all you. But the thought of spending a whole weekend with you seems like torture.

“Actually, that could work. You need to get over this weird hatred you have for her and this could be some good bonding! Maybe you’ll finally realize how great she is” Nancy states. “I know you all worship the ground she works on, but that isn’t good enough reason to ask her to pretend to be my girlfriend”

“Just think about it, okay?” Nancy says, kindly and he half-heartedly nods. The conversation ceases as you arrive back at the table and everyone stares at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. Nothing. We just missed you” You know Robin is acting weird about something, but you let it go. “um, okay. I missed you guys too for the whole five minutes I was gone. I'm gonna go get another drink.” you tell them before making your way to the bar.

“Hey, beautiful. Wanna take a shot with us?” One of the men from the bachelor party asks as you walk by their table. “No thanks. Have a good night, guys” you walk away and hope they leave you alone.

One of the guys gets up to follow you. Steve’s keeping an eye on you and moves to get up when he sees the guy following you. “I’ll be right back, guys”

“C’mon, baby, let me buy you a drink” Steve hears him say to you as you’re standing at the bar. You look uncomfortable and with the bar packed, you barely have a way to escape. “I already said no. Just go back to your friends”

When he moves closer, Steve steps in between the two of you. “She said no, man. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“you her boyfriend?” he slurs and Steve can’t believe the words that come out of his mouth “yeah, i am. so, fuck off, okay?” your eyes widen when Steve says he’s your boyfriend.

“Alright, alright.” the guy puts his hand up in defense “she’s all yours, buddy”

“are you okay? you’re not gonna cry or anything are you?” he asks when he turns around to face you. “No, I'm fine. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you” you smile at him sweetly.

“It’s whatever. Don’t let it get to your head” And just like that the Steve you know is back. “Can you tell everyone that I went outside for some air?” you ask and he nods then you go your separate ways. He watches the door to make sure you get outside alright.

“So, hypothetically” Steve starts once he returns to the table “How would I go about asking her to be my fake girlfriend?”

“Just be honest about it. Oh! and offer to pay for everything!” Robin says. Her advice could not be more vague. “I still think this is a terrible idea, but I literally have no other options, so when this goes to shit just remember it was all of your fault” he tells them before turning around and bearing the crowd to get outside.

When he walks out the door and into the fresh air, he sees you standing up against the brick exterior of the building. “Don’t tell me you came out here to check on me. Thought you said I shouldn’t let anything go to my head?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You are not making this any easier” He puts his hands on his hips and throws his head back, letting out a sigh. “Making what any easier?”

“I have a proposition for you”

“I don’t do prostitution, Steve”

“It’s not- would you just let me talk?” he groans and you make a zipping motion over your lips and throw away the invisible key. “Okay, you owe me a favor after what I did for you, right?- don’t make that face you totally do- anyways, I have a wedding to go next weekend and my family is always harping on me about having a girlfriend and I was thinking-”

“you want me to be your girlfriend?” you ask in a skeptical tone.

“What did I say about letting me talk? and no not girlfriend, fake girlfriend. Just for three days”

“You can barely stand to be around me and you want me to be your pretend girlfriend?”

“Look, I know it’s weird, but we don't have to worry about feelings or some shit like that being a problem because there’s no way that would happen” he explains. “What do I get out of it?”

“A super fancy hotel and all expenses paid. You’ll even get to pretend that you’re dating someone as hot as I am” he smirks and you huff out a humorless laugh. “You’ll pay for everything?” he nods “you’ll drive, too? I hate driving” he nods again “and you’ll be nice to me?”

“Ugh, fine, okay. I will be so nice to you that you’ll puke. Is that a yes?”

“Sure, why not. Can I talk in a British accent and pretend to be part of the royal family? ya know, to fit in with the rich people?”

“Absolutely not”

“Why are you no fun, Stevie?” you whine. “Stevie?” his brows furrow. “yeah, i’m thinking that as your new girlfriend, my nickname for you is Stevie”

“Fake girlfriend” he reminds you “Stevie, you’re so uptight.” you pout at him and he hates himself for his eyes lingering on your lips.

“So, what time should I come over tomorrow?” you ask like you’ve already been invited to his apartment. “What?”

“We need to hang out so you can get used to not acting like I don’t have the plague. Plus, we need to get to know each other” you state. “Fine. Come over tomorrow night and we’ll go over everything”

“Looking forward to it, Stevie”

You knock on Steve’s door at 8 p.m. sharp with a bottle of wine in hand because let’s face it, you’re both going to need it. “Hi, Steviekins” you greet as he opens the door. “That’s worse than Stevie”

“You love Stevie and you know it”

“Just come inside” he grumbles. “I ordered a pizza if you want a slice. It’s in the kitchen”

Once the wine is poured and you sit on the couch to eat, you pull out your notebook and two pens from your bag. “Are we writing each other love notes or something?”

“No, doofus. We’re taking notes on each other. Our likes, dislikes, details about our relationship” you tear out a piece of paper and give him a pen. Even your pens and notebook were nauseatingly adorable. “If I knew this was going to be like school I would’ve asked Robin”

“ha!” you laugh loudly “she would punch you if you tried to hold her hand or do anything that was even remotely romantic” you point out “and you’re not going to punch me?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’d hate to be a liar”

You and Steve practically chug your wine and pour a second glass before playing your own version of twenty questions.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask to start. “My favorite color? you really think my family is going to question you on shit like that?” he responds and you glare at him. “Okay, fine. um, blue, I guess”

“That’s so basic”

“Then what’s yours?”

“all of them” you reply. “all of them? really?” he snidely remarks. “yes, moving on”

You learn an abundant amount of things about each other, much against Steve’s will. You know each other's favorite candies, movies, songs, all the way to childhood memories and discussing scars you have and how you got them.

Then you moved on to the details of your relationship. Friends first, fell in love, you know the deal. You’ve “been together” for five months. Long enough that it’s somewhat serious, short enough for it to make sense that you haven’t met his parents yet.

The bottle of wine is almost gone and Steve’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a bit glossy. If he wasn’t the bane of your existence, you might even think he looks pretty.

“Can I ask you a question? and not one about your favorite food or anything like that” you ask in a soft voice and you seem a little nervous. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Why did you ask me to do this? i’m like the last person you should’ve asked”

“That’s actually why I asked. If I asked a girl that has any romantic interest in me at all, then it might get confusing, ya know? With you, once these three days are over we can go back to normal. There’s no risk of us falling for each other”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I have an observation, by the way. You always speak of love like it’s a terrible thing. Why is that”

“Holy shit that’s a loaded question. Um, well the first time I was in love was in high school and we all know how that turned out. Haven’t been in a serious relationship since so I guess it’s hard for me to believe that it’s as great as everyone says it is” he sighs. He’s never drinking wine again. If it makes him this vulnerable with you he can’t imagine what it would be like if someone else was sitting here.

“Do you still love her? Nancy?” you wonder. “No, I don’t. I have love for her, but just as a friend. What about you?”

“No, I’m not in love with Nancy. She’s pretty and all, but can’t say i’m in love with her”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. You’re always raving about some dumb romance novel, yet I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.” he says and you sigh “There’s not much to tell. Hopeless romantic with standards that are too high”

There’s a hint of sadness in your voice and you clear your throat before speaking up again. “So, I think that’s enough for tonight. I know way more about you than I ever wanted to”

“Right back at ya. I’ll walk you to the door”

“It’s a short distance, I’ll manage”

“Hey, I gotta start working on being chivalrous as your fake boyfriend. Can you stop being stubborn for one second?”

He walks you ten steps to the door and even opens it for you. “Same time tomorrow night? unless you're busy” you say, halfway out the door. “What could we possibly have left to learn about each other?”

“We still have to work on acting like we’re in love. You might have to put your arm around me this weekend. Oh, the horrors!” you gasp dramatically and he suppresses a laugh because he refuses to let you think you have the ability to make him laugh.

“Tomorrow's fine. But if something comes up and you have to skip that would totally be okay”

“You’re such an ass” you whine. “Not as much as you are” he retorts.

You flip him off as you walk away and he does the same.

He can’t wait for next weekend to be over so he can go back to pretending like you barely even exist.

part two coming soon to a screen near you ;)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fic

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folie-a-deux · 18 days

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"Where's does the difference between the past and the future come from?"

Mine? Definitely before watching Hannibal and after watching Hannibal.

#🥲#this show ruined me while i enjoyed it lol #there's just some things i can't unsee now #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter

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dangermousie · 22 days

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This was genuinely hilarious but also moving.

Look at that insane height difference, even when he's barefoot and she's in sneakers. I looked it up - it's 11 inches (!!! 5'3 v 6'2. OMG this is heaven for my shippy tall x smol fixation.)

He has NO idea who she is ahahahah or what she is specifically talking about.

I think what I love about both of them is that, as I mentioned earlier, they are just both such nice people. I mean, this random girl he doesn't know just acted super odd and yet when he comes across her again, he is just genuinely nice:

Too bad she she went from thinking this a dream to this being some sort of purgatory so all he sees is weird girl being even WEIRDER!

Bwahhaahha poor kid!

He literally runs away.

And yet when he sees her in the morning getting soaked, he comes over with an umbrella. AWWW. They are both just so damn NICE! But not in a boring way at all.

The little call-back!

This is a third drama in less than a year where FL gets to travel into her own past armed with the knowledge of the future to correct outcomes but what's so interesting to me is that unlike in MMH and PMR, FL is not driven by the need of revenge and desire to fix her own life - this time she's driven by the need to save someone else. And I love that so much!!!

PS The relationship between the three generations of women in her fam makes me sniffle. She's back in time when Sun Jae is alive and sunny, but also she's back to the time when she can walk and her grandmother does not have dementia, and she treasures this entirely.

#kdrama #lovely runner #kim hye yoon #byeon woo seok

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lovingmattysposts · 4 months

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You don't know me 2

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: MAJOR mentions of toxic relationship, suggestive, there is one part where she guilt trips herself into doing something sexual BUT THERE IS NO DESCRIPTION OF IT ACTUALLY HAPPENING!! if that bother you it's very clear when it starts and you can just scroll past that part I was just trying to get a point across and it does not involve chris whatsoever!! nothing crazy, i promise you guys❤️ smoking, cursing, mentions of cheating

hope you guys fall in love w this series

xoxo, autumn

Max was almost passed out against the window after we dropped off Cayden and Sydney. I was staring straight through the window. Not glancing over at him. My hands gripping onto the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were turning white, trying not to think about what just occurred.

How do people do this so causally? Cheat on their significant other then feel no guilt? It's eating me alive and I did it accidentally. I felt like he knew subconsciously and was going to call me out on it at any moment, but he didn't know. There is no possible way that he could know. Yes Max was a lot at times, but he would never cheat on me. I cheated on him. God what did I do?

"Y/n"

My head snapped towards him and then back towards the road. Could he read my thoughts? I was starting to think he could. I was sweating. Freaking the fuck out. I swallowed before answering him.

"Yeah?" I whispered back. His eyebrows furrowed and he leaned over grabbing one of my hands that were tight against the steering wheel and interlocking our fingers and started massaging my hand with his. He took his other hand and slid it on the inside of the thigh and leaning his head on my shoulder. I felt myself begin to relax. I let out a shaky breath.

"What's stressing you out babe?" He asked quietly. I collected my thoughts. I can't be suspicious. I was being way too suspicious. I needed to relax, but I couldn't get myself to. "W-What do you mean?" I asked not looking at him. He moved his hand up and down my leg, attempting to sooth me. I didn't deserve him. Oh my God I'm awful. I'm an absolute awful human being. An awful girlfriend.

"You're gripping the steering wheel for dear life and you look like you're gonna puke and you've been stuttering all night" He chuckled. God no. I shook my head, finally taking a deep breath. Think of something, anything. "Just worried about Cayden" I lied shaking my head. "I feel bad for Sydney" I said leaning my head against his as I drove. He hummed. Silence fell between us.

"I'm sorry" He said silently. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at him. "For what?" I whispered. He didn't look up at me. He sighed and leaned up from me and took his hands off of me. "I know why you're stressed y/n/n" He said looking back at me. Heart rate quickening. Face pale-ing. Pulse weakening. I swallowed. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, trying to act like I didn't know what he was talking about.

"You think I'm mad at you for the fight" He said shaking his head. I sighed of relief but quickly recovered by looking at him nodding. Yes, that's it. You're exactly right. He frowned. "Babe I'm not mad at you. But you have to know that people expect you to come to my games. If people notice that you aren't coming they might think we had broken up or something. That doesn't look good on me" He frown. Asshole. I bit my tongue. Pick your battles. Pick your battles y/n. "I don't want people thinking you're available" He chuckled. I forced myself to laugh at him, then quickly shut my mouth.

"I'm sorry too" I said genuinely. I'm so sorry Max. He leaned over and kissed my cheek and went back to leaning his head on my shoulder. "For what?" He breathed as he began to kiss my shoulder up to my neck. I sighed.

For cheating on you.

"For giving you a hard time about the game. I'll go. I know you want me there so I'm gonna go and I won't give you trouble about it again" I said giving in yet again. Mostly because of my guilt. I didn't want him to question me.

"That's my girl" He whispered. He replaced his hand on my leg, moving it up higher this time, rubbing his thumb back and forth slowly. He was still kissing my neck. "Are we almost there?" He whispered as he kissed me. I let out a shaky breath.

"I'm pulling into my neighborhood" I whispered quietly. A few seconds later I was pulling into my driveway. Max stumbled out of the car as we walked up to my front door and I put in the code, letting us inside. He walked in after me and shut the door. The house was dark, quiet. To be fair it was past 2 in the morning at this point. I looked around for any sign of my parents. I felt Max come up behind me and pull me against him. He bent his head down his kissed my neck from behind before leaning up and pressing his lips against my ear.

"Where are your parents?" He whispered. I swallowed. "Asleep" I whispered back. He hummed back before grabbing my hand and walking me up the stairs to my room. I couldn't shake the thoughts no matter how hard I tried to. Chris. His lips. My lips. How he tasted. It should be illegal. The things that I'm thinking of this boy that I don't even know. A boy that's not even my boyfriend.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think that I just kissed him because I just genuinely wanted to cheat on my boyfriend? I'm not that kind of girl. I didn't want him to think I was that kind of girl. I'm not a bad person. I never step out of line. I never did the wrong thing. I always apologized even when I probably shouldn't have. I obeyed my parents. I obeyed my boyfriend. I was loyal. I was faithful. I have a reputation to keep.

I was blinded my anger. I wasn't thinking. I acted on my emotions. What did he think when he saw me with Max right after? Was he going to talk? Was he going to tell Max? Brag about it to his friends? Was Nate going to talk? God I was freaking out.

I had to talk to Chris. I have to convince him not to tell anyone. He went to my school, I've seen him around before. Fuck it was Saturday. I had to wait until at least Monday before I could even see him again. He could ruin my entire life by Monday.

Stress. Anxiety. Guilt.

He has all the power in the world to ruin my life in the next 48 hours, and there was nothing I can do about it. Max would break up with me. My parents would shun me for screwing up my relationship with an Hastings. I would lose my friends. I would be known as a cheater. My reputation would be ruined. Chris has my life in his hands right now and there was nothing I could do about it until Monday.

Max led me into my room and I turned and closed the door. He sighed before walking over to my bed and laying back on it. I leaned up on his elbows as I turned back around and looked at him. He smiled at me. I smiled back. I needed to do this. Maybe this could make me feel less guilty about the situation I've found myself in. I love Max. I do. I love him.

I walked over to him before climbing on top of him and sitting on his lap looking down at him. He just looked up at me. "Whatcha doing baby?" He asked reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled down at him. I reached my hands under his shirt and ran my hands up his body. He just watched me. I shrugged. "Nothing" I whispered. I leaned down and started kissing his neck slowly. He groaned and placed his hands on my leg and moved them up before placing his hands on my ass pulling me up against his hips instead of his legs.

"Thought you didn't want to hook up after I drink" He mumbled. Yeah, I don't. Not at all actually. I hate it, but I feel so guilty I can't think of anything else to make me feel less guilty other than to prove that I actually I love you right now Max. "I changed my mind" I whispered before leaning up and connecting our lips. He stuck his tongue directly into my mouth. I hated when he did that. Straight to the point huh? No build up? Alright. Chris didn't do that.

Stop. Y/n. What are you doing? Change your thought process right now.

I grind my hips against his making him groan into my mouth. He parted our lips. "Eager are we?" He smiled. Eager to forget this night ever happened, yes. I smiled and nodded. He smiled and but his hand on my cheek. "Just want to show you how much I love you" I whispered. He smiled. He looked down at our position.

"Will you stay on top?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I wanted to groan. I wanted to hang my head and complain. No I don't want to stay on top. I hated being on top. I never finished that way, not that Max knew that or ever noticed. I liked being taken care of, not the one doing the taking care of. I swallowed my pride and nodded smiling.

"Of course" I smiled leaning down and connecting our lips. Whatever made this move along as quickly as possible. He reached up under my shirt and took off my bra. I disconnected our lips before shrugging off my bra and taking it off under my shirt and throwing it on the floor. He smiled leaning up against my headboard. He reached under my shirt before feeling me up and leaning against my lips.

"God, you're so hot" He mumbled against my lips. Beautiful? No, I'm hot. Y/n stop. Why was I dreading this so much? It wasn't normally like this. I normally some-what enjoyed this. Sometimes. I forced a smile and reached down and started to undo his belt with my hands as we kissed.

"Condom" I whispered against him. He parted my lips and groaned. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. He rested his head against my headboard. "Can we go without?" He asked looking at me. I scoffed. Yeah this is where I draw the line. I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry enough to risk getting pregnant, I'm only 18. It gave me too much anxiety to go without. The last time we went without I bought two plan B's and took five pregnancy tests within the span of two days. I wasn't pregnant but the thought scared the shit out of me. I shook my head.

"No" I said looking at him. His demeanor changed. It turned cold. This is why I don't hook up with him when he drinks. He can change emotions in a matter of seconds. If he was sober he probably wouldn't fight me on this. It would be me that it affects if something went wrong. Not him. He should understand.

"But you're on the pill" He said looking at me. I leaned back. "I don't care" I said looking at him. Were using a condom or were not doing this at all. He groaned again. Like a child being told he can't get the toy he wanted. He's 18 years old. Man up and use the Goddamn condom. He frowned at me. If I wasn't doing this to feel less guilty I would yell at him and say forget it.

"Do you want to be a dad?" I asked glaring at him. He narrowed his eyes at me and licked his lips. He looked me up and down before grabbing my neck and pulling my lips back to mine. Another thing when he drinks, he's more aggressive and I hate it. I kept kissing him but reached up and pulled the hand that was around my neck off.

Don't do that I hate it. I wanted to say but I kept kissing him. He reached down between us and started undoing the rest of his belt before pulling it off and throwing it on the floor.

He started undoing this zipper when I pulled away. I looked at him with stern eyes. "Come on Y/n" He groaned. This was starting to hurt my feelings. "No" I whispered. He sighed before looking away. "Then I don't even want to do this" He said looking at me.

Wow. I felt a lump in my throat. You know how to make me feel so special Max.

"Why?" I whispered afraid that if I spoke any louder that tears would start forming. He bit on his bottom lip looking down at me. He shook his head.

He wasn't normally like this. Whenever I demanded a condom, he would gripe and moan, yes, but he always obliged. It's because he's drunk. Add it to the list of reasons that I don't do anything when he's drunk. When he doesn't get what he wants he turned mean, cold.

I looked away from him attempting to swallow the lump in my throat. I slid off of him and sat next to him on the bed and sighed. "Can you do something though?" He asked turning his head towards me. I looked at him.

Is he serious right now? I just looked at him. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him this is exactly why I don't do this when he's drinking. That he's proving my former decision correct, but it wouldn't be worth it. He wouldn't listen.

"Can you top me off at least?" He asked looking at me. At least? I closed my eyes getting ready to scream at him. He knows I hate doing that. Makes me feel gross. It's not something I enjoy. We'd been dating a year and I've done it maybe two times.

You cheated on him tonight y/n. My mind raced. Guilt filled me again. I looked at him and nodded, forcing a smile. He smiled down at me before kissing my forehead. I wanted to cry. I hated this. Why did I put myself in this position?

"Thanks babe" He breathed. I nodded before sitting up and leaning down over top of him again.

I'm never letting myself feel guilty enough to do this ever again.

Max's been asleep for a while now. I can tell because of the way he's breathing. Not me. I'm wide away staring at the wall as I laid against my pillow. I'd gotten up to brush my teeth three times. I fucking hated it. I felt tears start to form in my eyes. I feel so bad for cheating on him, yes. But not as bad as I felt about the fact that the entire time I was doing it I was thinking about Chris.

I was thinking about his laugh, the way his lips tasted, the way he looked at me when he saw me with Max. All of it and it was overwhelming. I wondered what Chris was doing right now. Was he asleep? Was he wide awake like me? Did he even think twice about me? About our kiss? Was he hurt? Did he not care? Does he even know my name? I never even told him.

I sighed reaching up and wiping my eyes. I just need to talk to him. To close this so I can stop feeling like this. I finally closed my eyes allowing this horrible day to come to an end.

Chris pov

Nate and I had gotten back to my house over two hours ago. It was around 3 in the morning now. We were sitting on my back porch. "Are you even going to acknowledge what happened back there?" He asked me. My eyes shifted over to him and back to the fire in front of us. I licked my lips. No I wasn't. I was hoping to forget about it actually.

"You've barely said a word since we've gotten back and you've smoke like five more cigarettes" He said looking at me. He's right. I don't normally smoke as much as I have tonight. I've almost smoked an entire pack. But I can't stop thinking about how she took the cigarette out of my hand and the way she wrapped her lips around the one that was just previously in my mouth.

I swallowed and sighed throwing the last cigarette on the ground that was only half gone. Nate looked down at the cigarette then back up at me. "Talk to me. We have to tell her bitch ass boyfriend right?" He asked looking at me. I looked up at him. "No" I said sternly. He threw his hands up.

"Why not?" He asked suddenly, annoyed at my response. "We're not telling anyone okay? There's no reason to get involved" I said looking at my hands. He huffed. Nate is definitely the one that stirs up the most trouble out of the two of us. I'm the one that fixes his messes.

He pisses someone off and I'm the one that ends up having to fight them. It's fine. I'm happy to protect my friend. That being said when we both agree how to handle something the other one has to oblige. It's how this friendship works. It's why we're so close. Why we're basically brothers.

He leaned back against the chair shaking his head. "Think about the look on his face when we tell him that your tongue was down his girlfriend's throat, it would be gold" He said looking at me. My eyes snapped up to his. "I said no. That's final. Drop it" I said sternly. He bit his lip and sighed turning away from me.

I knew Nate was thinking the same thing as me. Why did you do that? I don't know. I hated all of them. The ultimate assholes, of all assholes. The rich bitches. I hated all of them, they all looked down on me. On everyone else that wasn't them. The party was full of them. That's why I didn't want to go, but I saw her. From across the room. Her asshole boyfriend was basically groping her in a room full of people. I couldn't help but look. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she attempted to get out of his grip.

Her eyes fell onto mine, I wanted to look away but I couldn't. Her gaze was strong. I couldn't look away if I tried. I recognized her. She was a Labraut. Their only daughter. They held the biggest law firm in the state of Michigan. They were the richest people in town, with the white house on the corner of Henderson and Alfred pike. The one with the 'L's' plastered on the doors and the gate that led up the driveway.

She was wearing a white dress and shoes that were so ugly that they had to be expensive. I thought it was funny that she wore a dress to a party. It was cute. It looked like she was dress more for a formal event than a house party, but then again it was a rich people party. Yet despise the fact that she was dressed to the nines, hair perfectly curled, she looked miserable. She looked tired. Annoyed. Mad. Until she looked at me and her demeanor shifted. She studied me until she decided to looked away.

Just her gaze made me feel vulnerable. I needed a smoke. I went outside. She came outside a few minutes later. She didn't notice me leaned up against the wall. I watched her for a second. Her head was tilted up, looking at the sky. I looked up, looking for what could be so interesting in the sky. It was just a sky. But she studied it, like she studied me earlier. I didn't want her to turn around and see me watching her so I walked up to her.

I scared the shit out of her. I have that effect on most people, so I was used to that reaction. Her voice wasn't what I was expecting. I don't know what I was imagining. Girls normally steer clear of me. They think I'm scary I guess. They all love Nate though. I'd be jealous, but I didn't really care. I wasn't interested. Yet, she intrigued me. It made me happy that a guy was all over her and she was less than interested. I don't know why. I think it was because it was Hastings, but if you're dating the guy, you can't be much better of a person.

So I gave her kind of a hard time. I don't regret it, kind of. I think now I do. If you have to deal with a guy like Max 24/7 I don't think you should get shit from anyone else either. Max was enough. She yelled at me. I found it amusing. From the choice of words It doesn't sound like she yelled at people very much, it was a cute attempt. I backed off, only a little. Still called her princess, because that's how she's always treated. Like a goddamn princess.

I could see the glimmer in her eye slightly when I said it but she quickly turned away from me. Told me to stop calling her that. It caught me off guard, the glimmer, so I stayed looking at her. Did she like that? Her face lit up in a shade of pink and she looked away. The way she blushed I felt it in my stomach. I covered it up by looking away.

Her annoying bot of a friend comes bursting out of the house to drag her away. I watched her as she was pulled away from next to me. I wondered to myself if she would look back at me. Give me even a second glance or if she was just speaking to me because I was standing right there. To my surprise she did. I just looked at her before she disappeared back into the house. Somewhere that I never wanted to enter ever again. A bunch of rich kids getting drunk, not my idea of fun.

As I finished the last of my second cigarette, which I would go on to finish six more, I wondered to myself if we would ever come in contact again. She didn't even ask my name, but she didn't tell me hers either. I guess she assumed I knew it. I did, it was Y/n. Everyone knew her name, and If they didn't know her first name they definitely knew her last.

Nate found me shortly after I escape the inside and after Y/n left. I didn't tell him about the interaction because I knew he would push me on it. I didn't liked being pushed. He rambled on about how at the last hockey game, they kept giving him penatlties for bullshit calls. I just listened as he rambled. I've learned that when Nate gets into rants, he doesn't want solutions, he just wants someone to listen and nod and throw in the occasional "That sucks. No yeah, you're definitely right".

He was deep in a story when someone came bursting through the back door again. I turned and saw Y/n walking towards me. I didn't want Nate thinking that I was being somewhat nice to her because of how much shit I talk about her kind of people.

So I threw out the first insult I thought of, it wasn't nice. I regret that. It wasn't cool. She didn't give me attitude back like I expected. No, instead she marched right up to me. I didn't step away as I looked down at her. There was a different look in her eyes. She was angry. For a second I thought she was going to smack the shit out of me.

I started to think I should probably back up, but she reached up and took the cigarette out of my hand. What was the deal with her and me smoking? It wasn't your lungs. I just watched her. She brought it up to her lips without hesitation, taking me by surprise. I looked down at her about to question the fact that she was inhaling nicotine and tobacco after giving me a quick health lesson earlier, when she reached her hand up to me, again I think to smack the shit out of me.

She didn't.

The next thing I know we're engulfed in one another's mouth. It was slow for a second, I was shocked. The last thing I expected was for her to kiss me. Her lips tasted like cherry lip gloss. It was heaven. They were so soft. How does Hastings get so lucky to kiss these lips everyday? Fuck. Hastings. She has a fucking boyfriend.

I almost pull away when I felt her tug on my lip ring. Oh my God. I hummed, muffling a moan. No one has ever done that before. I got lost again, the thought of her boyfriend leaving my head. I swipe my tongue in her mouth. Like a cigarette.

I pulled her against me as we kissed, completely forgoing the fact that there are two other people watching us devour each other. Her hands went up to my hair pulling slightly on the strands. I breathed in. All preconceived ideas I had of her were now out of the window. A bad person can't be this good of a kisser. I've convinced myself of this.

"Y/n!" Her friend said making her part from me. I could have killed her friend for making her stop kissing me the way she was. I didn't let her go when she parted from me. We both just looked at each other. I think both shocked that that just happened. My arm dropped from her back and she pulled her hands off my hair. Her eyes shifted from mine to her friends.

"Alright then" Nate said from behind me. If I could tell him telepathically to shut up, oh my god Nate shut the hell up. She turned from me and started walking towards her friend. She quickly snapped back around. Her cheeks were red and she looked disoriented. I could have fallen to my knees. Embarrassingly.

Instead, I kept my composure. "What was your name again?" She smiled, breathless. This would have offended me, but the way she looked clogged my mind instead.

"Chris" I was able to breathe by the grace of God. She nodded and turned around grabbing her friend and walking back inside. I didn't immediately turn to Nate, knowing how red my face probably was.

I reached up attempting to fix my hair. "What the hell was that?" Nate asked after a few seconds. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to wipe the smile off my face. I can't show how much that effected me. I turned around with a straight face.

"I have no idea" I shrugged. He just stared at me and then his eyes shifted to the door then back at me. He was speechless, and believe me I was too. He looked down at his feet then back up at me. "So you were saying" I said clearing my throat. He looked at me with wide eyes and shook his head. He laughed lightly. I bit back a smile.

"No I was interested, please keep going. So the empire said..?" I coughed. Please take the focus off me. "The referee!" He corrected me. I shook my head laughing. "Right the referee" I said looking at him. He smiled and rolled his eyes and started on his story again. I wasn't listening, I was trying to fight the urge to march into the party and find her and beg her to let me relive that moment.

Anything to feel like that again. But I couldn't, and I wouldn't. It's not really in character for me. Was it a one time thing? My mind started to race. Her boyfriend. Did they break up? Why did she march out here and kiss me? Why was she so angry? Why did she kiss me like that? I finally started to calm myself down and my face was no longer red when I heard the door open again a few minutes later.

I looked over and saw some guy with blonde hair throwing his guts up into the grass and the girl I recognized to be Y/n's friend leaned down next to him, yelling at him. I almost laughed when I turned and met Y/n's eyes. Then her boyfriend's. I involuntarily felt his presence in my chest. All of the good feelings that that kiss just gave me dropped to my feet as her eyes wouldn't meet mine for more than a second. She stood behind him with her eyes directed to her feet.

I wanted to scoff. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to shake my head. They hadn't broken up. They were in fact still together. He was right there. What was I thinking? I don't even know this girl and she's exactly who I expected her to be. I just looked at her waiting for her to look at me. To face the fucking consequences to her actions that I doubt she had ever before. But she didn't look at me. Her boyfriend did though.

"What are you looking at freak?" He spat at me. I wanted to smile and shake my head. These people, I swear. Why do I try? I stopped giving people the benefit of the doubt a long goddamn time ago. Why did I suddenly want to start now? They were all exactly the same. Stuck up, entitled assholes. Every last one of them. I looked at Nate and motioned and him towards the back gate. I was done with this. I needed to get out of here. I turned and he looked at her shaking his head. I grabbed his arm violently pulling him with me telling him "Let's go." sternly.

We walked home. It was a far walk. "I didn't realize that was Y/n LaBraut" Nate said as we walked down the street. I shrugged looking down at my feet as we walked. Why did I kiss her back? What was I thinking? I fell into her so instantly. What is wrong with me? Giving someone like her what she wanted in that moment.

I'm just like everyone else. Giving in because she's her and she wanted it so she got it. Fuck that. I kicked a rock down the street. I didn't talk much on the walk home. I didn't have much to say. I was disappointed in myself. Giving into it so easily. Wanting more. I shook my head at myself as we walked. I can't believe I let myself kiss her of all people for my first kiss in three years. The first one, after her.

She's probably shaking her head at me right now. I wish I could apologize somehow.

That brings us to right now. I suddenly felt bad for snapping at him. He looked down at his lap. "And stop talking about my tongue it's weird bro" I said chuckling shaking my head. He laughed lightly across from me. As good as I would feel to see the look on Hasting's face to let him know the way his girlfriend's hands were tangled in my hair drove me crazy, something about the way that she hid behind him in defeat doesn't sit right with me.

I felt like there was something deeper to the reason she decided to kiss me, but it wasn't any of my business. So I wasn't looking to make it my business. I had enough problems that I didn't need to add rich people drama to the list.

"You know" Nate said looking up at me. I looked over at him. "That was the first girl you've kissed since.." He trailed off. I loved Nate. I really did. But sometimes he didn't know when to shut up. Which is why I had to fight someone new every other week, normally another hockey player he got into it with. I looked down at my feet.

"How are you feeling about...that" He whispered. I clenched my jaw, staring at the ground. I wanted another cigarette to relieve the stress, but I restricted myself. I'd smoked more than enough tonight. I stayed silent. I took a deep breath before standing up off the metal chair. Nate looked up at me.

"It's getting late" I said looking at him. He looked sadly at me. "You staying?" I asked pointing towards the house. He stood up, shaking his head. "No, I'm gonna head back. Told my mom I'd come home at some point" He smiled. I nodded looking over to my house. Nate stepped toward me.

"Look man" He started. I looked at him. "I'm sorry, I won't mention it again" He said quietly. I didn't say anything and just looked at him. "I just worry about you sometimes" He said half smiling sadly at me. I nodded. I know he's worried about me. Another thing about Nate, he doesn't hide what he's thinking very well. I know he cares, I just wish he wouldn't talk about it.

"I'm fine Nate" I mumbled. He nodded and looked toward my gate. "I'm gonna head out then" He said motioning towards the gate. I nodded walking towards my house. "I'll pick you up Monday for school" I said looking at him. He laughed walking towards my gate before raising his hands. "Thanks Mom!" He yelled.

I laughed and shook my head walking in the backdoor of my house, quietly. I didn't want to wake up my grandpa who was sound asleep on the lounge chair in the living room. He fell asleep there more often than not. He was a heavy sleeper though, still I didn't want to risk waking him up.

I stepped past him and down the hall into my room. I closed the door before letting go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. I walked over to my bed before crashing into it. Everything was sore. Nate and I had walked to that party. I didn't even want to go, Nate did. I went because he wanted to.

The alternative was staying here and me and my grandpa got into a fight earlier and I didn't want to stay here. He found cigarette buds in the backyard. He told me that It would kill me if I smoked. Y/n said the same thing to me tonight.

I sighed as I kicked off my shoes and laid my head against my pillow and closed my eyes. I felt like I could only see the look on her face from earlier. The fear. The regret. The sadness. Not going to lie, it kind of hurt. After you kiss someone, correction, someone kisses you, you don't really want a look of regret afterwards. But she smiled. When we were kissing she smiled against my lips. The way her hands went up to my hair. The way she felt pressed against me. I can still feel it.

I snapped my eyes open and turned looking up at the ceiling. I looked down and felt myself becoming half-hard just thinking about it. I groaned covering my hands with my face. I can't be thinking about her like this. She's one of them. I need a cold shower or something. I've gotta stop using smoking as an outlet. I stood up off my bed and walked in my bathroom before turning on the shower. I sighed before stepping in and letting the warm water roll down my back.

I wondered what she was doing right now. Was she asleep? Was she wide awake like me? Did she even think twice about me after? Or did she kiss her boyfriend and forget all about the incident? I wondered if she felt bad for what she did. To me, or to her asshat of a boyfriend even. Or if she did it all the time and I was not a special occasion. Why do I even care? I need sleep. I reached over and turned off the shower.

I'll be damned if I ever let myself give in that easily ever again.

y/n pov

I've been looking for him all day. Every class. Every corner. I even stalked the boy's bathroom after 3rd period. He was nowhere. Is he even here today? God, please be here. I've been a nervous wreck the last two days. Max's acted normal. So I'm guessing he doesn't know. It hasn't gotten back to him. Yet, at least. He didn't apologize for the way he acted that night either. The next morning I found him eating breakfast downstairs with my parents. I would allow myself to be mad at him, but I couldn't. Not with this cloud of guilt still hanging over my head.

"Who are you looking for?" Max laughed. I jumped turning around and seeing Max. I laughed lightly trying to compose myself. Think. Think. "You of course" I smiled up at him, putting my hand on his chest. His eyebrows furrowed. "You know I have Sterling 5th period" He said pointing at Mr. Sterlings door across the hall. I pointing at the door and then at him.

"Right! Slipped my mind" I laughed lightly, swallowing. He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?" He shook his head smiling and wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the hall. Still, I searched for Chris. No sign.

Max and I walked into the lunch room and then over to our usual table where Sydney and Cayden were sitting. They were bickering again. They fought a lot and if they weren't fighting they were all over one another. It was a weird complex they had going on, but it worked for them I guess. I sat down across from them.

"Hey" I breathed looking at them. Sydney looked at me. "Please tell Cayden that my parents would not let him borrow their jet for the weekend to go see the lakers game" She glared at me. I spend my mouth to speak but Cayden cut me off. "It's the final four! We're court-side!" He argued. She huffed. "Where's yours Cayden?" Max asked looking at him. Cayden went silent and he looked down.

"It's uh in the shop" He said not looking up. Sydney glared at him. "It is not in the shop, you got your private jet privileges because you took it to fly to Miami for the weekend to see Drake perform at Rolling Loud!" She yelled at him. God this argument is making my head spin. I looked over at Max whose eyebrows were raised watching them fight. He looked at me and shook his head.

"You came with me!" He said at her. Her hands flew up. "You told me your parents were okay with it!" She yelled back. I held my hands up. "Guys stop please. My head, it's hurting" I said shaking my head. "It was still worth it" He said shaking his head. She looked over at him. "Was Drake even performing?" She asked crossing her arms. He hung his head in defeat. "No, I looked at last year's lineup" He said looking down. Sydney looked over at us with her hands up. I smiled shaking my head.

"I know you guys aren't fighting over who's private jet to take to court-side at a lakers game" I said shaking my head. I'm starting to understand why people hate us. I hate us sometimes. First world problems people, people are dying. Sydney and Cayden looked at each other and laughed. "It was still worth it though, because we had sex on the rooftop of-" He started to say, but Sydney hit him in the shoulder. Her face turned blood red.

Cayden looked at her and rubbed his shoulder. "What?" He whined. God, this needs to stop. I looked around the cafeteria, still in search for Chris. I looked behind Sydney and saw him and Nate eating at a table a little father back. Relief and fear struck me all at once. It's now or never. I just have to talk to him and pray he's told no one about what happened at the party. Max was still watching Cayden and Sydney, sometimes it's like a reality tv show.

"Hey babe, can you go get me a drink?" I asked looking over at him. He looked down at me and groaned. "It's so far" He whined. Exactly. It was the farthest point from our table. It gives me time. I glared at him. "Hey, I'm kidding. I'm kidding, I'll go" He said kissing the top of my head and standing up. I looked over at Sydney who was now pouting and looking away from Cayden.

She looked at me. My eyes went wide as I motioned to Cayden and then Max who was standing. Her eyebrows furrowed and then she looked at Max who was starting to walk away. Her eyes went wide and she nodded and turned to Cayden. "Me too babe, get me a drink?" Her demeanor changed intensely toward him. He lifted his head and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"You just told me you hated me" He said shaking his head. "I was kidding. I love you, now drink? Please?" She said pushing him. He sighed shaking his head before getting up and walking away. I watched him until he was out of ear-shot. Sydney leaned forward to me.

"What?" She whispered. I swallowed before looking behind her to Chris who was still sitting there talking to Nate. "I need to go talk to Chris" I whispered back. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Who's Chris?" She asked back. I hit her from across the table. "Ow" She whispered back. "The guy" I whispered. She shook her head not understanding. Oh my God.

"I one i...." I tried off with wide eyes. Her face dropped as she looked around. She leaned forward again. "Are you crazy? In public?" She whispered back. I shrugged. "I don't have another time! I have to make sure he doesn't talk" I said back. She licked her lips and looked around.

"Okay go, quick!" She whispered. I nodded before quickly standing up and walking over to Chris's table. Adrenaline filled me as I walked towards their table, fear of being seen by Max, but it faded once Nate's eyes noticed me before Chris's.

He hit Chris's arm and motioned to me and he looked up at me right when I approached the table. I swallowed. I forgot what his gaze did to me. The way it felt. God, why are my legs shaking? It's just some random kid.

"Can I help you?" Chris asked after a few seconds looking at me. Fuck, I forgot to speak. I cleared my throat as I looked at him. "Can I talk to you?" I asked quietly. Thank god it was only them at this table. Chris looked at Nate who shook his head. I wanted to flip him off but I needed Chris to talk to me. I needed to explain myself and make sure we were on the same page.

Chris looked back up at me and sighed. "How about, fuck off?" Nate said looking at me. Ouch. I furrowed my eyebrows. Chris glared at him and elbowed him in the side. "Ow" Nate said glaring at him.

I didn't blame him for saying that, I'd tell me to fuck off too. I would tell him that, but my throat was dry. I don't remember being this nervous last time I was in his presence. Before the kiss at least. I just stayed silent standing in front of them, playing with my fingers feeling the beat of my heart more clearly the longer I stood here.

Chris looked back up at me. I looked down at his lips, his lip ring. Oh my God. I can still feel it pressed against my lips. The coldness of it. The way it felt between my teeth. I-. I stopped myself snapping myself out of my thoughts and looked back up at his eyes.

He motioned for me to start talking. I looked at Nate who was looking at me, unimpressed. "N-Not here" I quickly said feeling the pressure of Nate's presence. "Somewhere private" I said looking at Nate and then back at Chris.

Chris pursed his lips before looking at Nate and then back at me. Chris looked down and looked over at a napkin before grabbing it and placing it in front of him. He felt his pockets before looking at Nate and holding out his hand.

"Pen" He said looking at him. Nate leaned his head forward. "Dude. Come on" He said looking at Chris. God this boy really hates me. I wanted to walk away and say never mind and just pray to God that he doesn't say anything, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to move my feet. I needed to speak to him one way or another. To apologize at least.

"Pen" Chris said again more sternly. Nate glared at him for a second before mumbling something and reaching in his bag. I was surprised by Chris's tone. It almost scared me and he wasn't even speaking to me. I guess that was his reputation. Bad boy, anger, hostile, aggressive.

Yet, I wondered to myself how could someone with those eyes be mean at heart? I don't think he could be. I wanted to shake my head at my thoughts. It's not your job to figure that out Y/n.

Nate pulled out a pen before handing it to Chris. Chris took it out of his hands. I looked over to our table. Max and Cayden weren't back yet and Sydney was watching me, taping her fingers aggressively on the table.

I turned back at Chris who had the pen on the napkin, but hadn't written anything yet. He looked up at me through his eyelids. I gave him a pleading look. He sighed before looking back down at the paper and scribbling something on it. He clicked the pen, putting it on the table before picking up the napkin and handing it to me.

"Come after 5" He said looking at me. I took the napkin and smiled at him. "Thank you" I whispered before turning on my heals and walking quickly back over to my table. I sat down across from Sydney, holding the paper in my hand. "So?" She quickly said. I looked down at the napkin and sighed. "I'm going to the address after 5" I said looking up at her. Her face turned shocked.

"To his house? Are you crazy? What are you thinking?" She quickly said. I shook my head shaken up from this whole experience. "I don't know! I need to talk to him!" I said back. She threw her hands up. "Why didn't you talk to him over there!" She asked back violently. I shook my head. "I couldn't! His friend was trying to kill me with his eyes!" I said motioning to the table. She turned around and looked at them and then back at me.

"His eyes? Y/n-"

"Drink" A voice said from above me setting down a drink in front of me. I looked up and saw Max. I smiled up at him, widely to avoid any questions of what we were just talking about. I slid the napkin in my hand into the pocket of my jeans. He leaned down and kissed my head before sitting next to me.

"What did we miss?" Max asked looking at me smiling. "Nothing" Sydney and I both said at the same time. We looked at each other. Max furrowed his eyebrows and looked between us. "Okay" He said shaking his head. Cayden came around setting a sprite in front of her.

"Sprite really Cayden? Do you hate me or something?" She yelled at him. He just looked at her with a shocked face, holding his hands up. "What did I do?" He asked her. She groaned and started yelling at him some more. I sighed and leaned my head on Max's shoulder. Here we go again.

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dropsofletters · 29 days

Text

i feel like i know you [jww]

SUMMARY: sometimes, we meet a person, a complete stranger in the streets, and we feel as though we have seen them somewhere else. a sense of familiarity that comes with longing and extreme love. however, it could only be one of those cases of deja-vu…if one does not think that there are other universes, roaming around its axis at the same time that we do.

jeon wonwoo doesn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, but somehow, he always has the same one in various universes.

maybe, destiny does exist.

TITLE: i feel like i know you

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader

GENRE: soulmates!au ; soulmates in different universes!au ; friends to lovers!au ; unrequited love!au ; forbidden love!au ; childhood friends!au and wonwoo finding his way back to oc again and again.

WORD COUNT: 8,000 words approx.

TYPE: fluffy fluff ; fantasy ; alternative universes ; angst if you squint

NOTE: this was a ko-fi request! you can go over there if you want to request something from me.

UNIVERSE 01: friendship.

A pendant sits on the palm of her hand.

It dangles in between his fingertips; tips colored by Kool-Aid, burning red. The music is a little too loud in the cramped room, where the strands of his bleached hair merge in between the black, original ones. Wonwoo sits neatly, though his image is copied out of one of those magazines that he reads over every once in a while when at his job at the mall.

Maybe, this is where her friend met the supposed old lady that taught him the future was written in one’s palm. He’s a man of science, though he masks it as not. Books and articles highlighted on his bookshelves, casted in dust as he reaches his twenty-five years of age and he realizes that, perhaps, in the midst and wits of time he never truly reached what he wanted. No scholarship. No travelling. Nothing other than sitting at his small apartment, dangling a necklace, hoping for a sign.

“What do you want to know?” Wonwoo always speaks like he has a secret, eyes squinted, voice a rumble of depth. His vision, however, is settled on the pendant that only moves the slightest, from side to side, venturing into the unknown of what it is supposed to tell her.

Life, on the other hand, is a little bit more secure for her. She didn’t imagine her life to be big, and hence, settling seemed nice. Three years into a relationship that started out in college; a college degree that also sits on her bookshelf, waiting for it to mean something than it actually is, and work. Work has been hectic, with coffee breaks towards the coffee shop in which Wonwoo works at with a scowl to his face and a purse of his lips.

“The unknown.” She jokes, hand trembling a bit as Wonwoo rests it on his thigh.

His eyes roll, the sclerotic becoming a bit apparent, before he returns his gaze to her. For Wonwoo, the world is serious; like the heat of the Americano she has each day, and the routine of making perfect coffee. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” She looks back at Wonwoo. This is the man that would nod at every single one of her words when battling her fear of speaking in public back in high school. Her friend. The reason as to why she gets to speak now in her corporate job for some fashion magazine. She knows him far too well, dances with his eyes and knows how to sit him down with simple syllables. “You don’t believe in any of this.”

“I’d like to grant myself the benefit of doubting my beliefs.” He explains. The nineties are far more technological, fitted for someone like him, with up-and-coming laptops and websites. He could have been so much more, but it feels these days like he’s losing himself to a trail of nothingness. “They haven’t exactly worked to my favor the past few years, so what do I lose by giving you an answer to something? Shit, maybe, I could get an answer, too.”

She grabs his hand, pendant digging to the skin of her palm, engraving the thunder that Wonwoo had bought on a convenience store nearby. It was probably on sale, too. “You don’t need answers, Wonwoo. What’s not lost should not be hunted down.”

His eyes soften. Mirrors in shades of brown, like a lake house that she could never escape. Here, listening to Backstreet Boys, trying to hide from the reality that they are not kids anymore, is the man she trusts the most. The one person she cherishes more than life itself. For, Wonwoo was there for her to lighten up her days, even when the exposure of sunshine would hurt him, too.

“…Let me just answer one question of yours.”

“What for, though—?”

“Just to prove to myself that I’m not the only one that doesn’t have it figured out.”

She sighs, opening her palm once again and closing her eyes tightly. She imagines all that has happened throughout the years of her living on this earth. She has a job that she likes. She has gone through college safely, thankfully. She has a relationship but…these days, it feels like he doesn’t foresee a future. Nick, her boyfriend of three years, goes on and on about his plans in the future, but it never includes her. A shush coming after his words when she ever-so asks…

Would you ever want to marry me?

“The first letter of the love of my life’s name.” She spurts out, knowing that the universe will be unable to ever grant her a benefit of knowing, let alone draw it on her palm with a pendant. Wonwoo doesn’t raise his eyebrows, never judging out loud, but speaking under his breath.

“Totally not the asshole you have for a boyfriend.”

“Wonwoo, have some respect and concentrate.”

“I’m just being honest.” He shrugs, sending a tight-lipped smile her way before he’s tracing her palm with the pendant and letting it hang. The woman at his job told him that it would trace two answers; a circle was a yes, a line was a no, and what she was asking…they’d see if it could get answered.

Much to his surprise, they hold their breaths, looking at the pendant before it starts moving. Almost like magic, like the world has things that we will never understand to its full complexity, the necklace starts moving its pendant until it draws a shape. Repetitive not, perhaps a little bit two quick, but the two folds of the ‘W’ are apparent. Her eyes trail forward, widened in complexion, before laughter spurts out of her lips.

“This shit is crazy.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are tinged pink, standing up and clasping the necklace in between his digits.

“Totally. Uh, where the hell did you even learn this?”

“Remind me to never trust people from work again.” Wonwoo’s back is turned towards her, saving the necklace on the coffee table, and she thinks about it for a moment…

Wonwoo and her together…

Pfft, as if that could ever happen.

“Noted. This will never happen again—”

“Yep. Want to get some burritos?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

The nineties had their own tagline, but ruining a friendship because of some stupid myth as the ear of technology was launching was totally not it.

###

UNIVERSE 02: opposites.

Wonwoo has always had an odd liking to coffee.

He presumptuously admits that he enjoys the taste on the roof of his mouth, and how it burns his palate and awakens him in the early mornings. Macchiato. Latte. Cold or hot. He enjoys them all. Hidden behind of strands of long hair, curled at the edges, and a pair of glasses so thick that they might as well hold all the eyes in the universe, he thinks it’s his own language. His way of speaking without actually opening his mouth. He grants happiness with a ‘good morning’ and a nod of his head, even though his coffee shop is not as big or as crowded as his family back home thinks.

A sigh leaves his lips, wiping the same spot he has worked on since the early morning. Only a client had passed by. A latte, decaffeinated, with two shots of vanilla and one of dark, moody chocolate. The busy man left without much of a glance at him, but the job was done. Hence, the day was uneventful, leaving him with pastries to sell and coffees to prepare. Aching to feel that this business is going somewhere.

He painted the walls green himself, thinking they’d match well with the plants his brother had gifted him after he moved to Jeju with his wife and worked on a gardening program over December. The tables, found in a trip to Scotland, did cost a little bit more than what he likes to admit, but it’s gloomy. Wholesome, like he wants it to be. A place that resembles the peace that comes with having a cup of coffee on a winter day.

It's summer.

Maybe, people just don’t want hot beverages.

The repetition of one of the first albums from The Beatles is cut off by the sound of a megaphone. Sharp and repetitive sentences shouted into the void of the street. People start to gather in front of his shop, but it’s not because of the coffee beans he brews every morning. There is someone else there—one of those hippies that he tries to stay away from.

Wonwoo pushes his hair away from his face, not even making the effort to clasp his beige apron off as he ventures to the entrance door and opens it with a swing. Standing on a small beer box is a woman; sporting a long floral skirt and a simple top that dangles off one shoulder. It reads ‘fuck politicians!’, loud and clear, like the sound of her voice as she asks for rights.

Rights to have some kind of reelection, for she thinks the government is corrupt.

“We are fucking marionettes to the politicians. Workers that will lose their nails clawing to get to the last bit of money they offer us. Not enough for us to eat and live freely—” She speaks into the megaphone, and he notices the soft hue of her lips and the crookedness of her hair. She’s not playing the part, but somehow, she looks quite beautiful in her messiness.

“Excuse me.” Wonwoo speaks softly, as per usual.

“Us women, we need to stay close, to protect the children of our lives. The people that need us the most. We are tired of staying silent—”

Though, she’s silencing him in the process. If this protest gets any heavier, he could even get jailed just because she wants to speak out…in front of a coffee shop. “Um, miss, excuse me, I have something to say—”

“Say it with me: ‘We shall not be silenced’!”

“Miss!” Just when she gives a moment for the crowd to speak, Wonwoo’s voice becomes loud. A shout into nothingness that brings color to his cheeks and a set of widened eyes that anyone could miss if they don’t look at him from up-close. She turns to him, still on that beer box, the wind blowing at her skirt and tracing the soft curves of her body. “This is my coffee shop…and—and I fear my clients would be scared of entering if they saw this protest in front of it. Could you please—?”

“What?” She questions, putting the megaphone down and raising her eyebrows. “This is something important.”

“Yeah! Totally. I know.” Wonwoo, though not a fan of politics, can understand that the economics are not the best these days. Hell, he fears that he will lose the business that he had worked so hard on. “How about this…I know that you planned this protest and that—”

“Just leave the fucking woman alone!” One of the protesters grits through his teeth, the others bursting in exclamations just like him.

“Yeah, fucking capitalist!”

“I could offer all of you coffee! And a place to talk. You buy me a cup, I let you have this whole…ordeal inside.” Wonwoo tries to smile, covered by the strands of his hair, but the wind whisks it away and she gets a good glimpse at him. The frown in between her eyebrows softens, mouth agape for a second before she brings the megaphone up to her lips again.

“We’re going inside! A small business needs us, everybody. We’re not getting out of this mess if we don’t make a change.”

Her hand lays on his shoulder, getting off the box and sending him a smile that blossoms one of his own on his face. It’s crazy how the world has millions of people, each more different than the last one, but there are still connections. Electricity that pulls two people together even with a mere touch, as he realizes just how gorgeous she is.

And so unlike him.

Such an impossibility.

He prepares her favorite coffee then. Sweeter than anything, with marshmallows on top, a caramel Macchiato that keeps her fed along with the guava pastry that she dared try. Speaking her mind away, he only sits and listens, knowing that this is the last time he’ll ever see her.

###

UNIVERSE 03: right person, wrong time.

He looks like the image of what his mother used to coo about every Christmas night when the eggnog got to her system.

Not a man of marriage, he used to say he was, when he was just fifteen years old and promising he could pull through with a relationship. At the time, his now bride-to-be Fae was the third wheel of the trio. The woman that would wipe her tears when everything got to be a little bit too much with him, and that would clasp Wonwoo’s hands in between her own and teach him how to be a better boyfriend. How to leave the faux interests of bad friends behind to build something beautiful.

That they built in just a few months of relationship, tainted and left as lukewarm friendship, got destroyed in just three months.

She’d dare say, however, as she lets the emerald green of her bridesmaid’s dress cascade down her back, knowing fairly well that the fabric fits her a little too snugly because she decided to bathe her stomach with alcohol just hours prior to this, that…Wonwoo was her first love. She had never loved as purely, harshly and truly. With rain falling down on them as they both cried their goodbyes, eager to make it work, but regretting forcing their friendship to be something more.

Now, he’s marrying Fae. They didn’t get together soon after they broke up. It took years, pulling away, falling apart as a trio, coming back together and Wonwoo and Fae being roommates during their senior year of law school for them to get in a relationship.

Though, the word has it that when a man is totally certain about a woman, things will fall into place quickly. He looked at Fae in the eyes quite like he does now, as she stands behind her. Fae has her soft peachy hair curled and tied at the top of her rounded face, lips opened in that heart-curling smile that shows all her teeth, imperfect and yet, so fucking gorgeous. She looks like she was taken out of a fairytale, glowing…and she should be happy with her friend.

Fuck, she is.

God, imagine how difficult it would be to explain to Heaven when she tried to knock on its doors at the end of her life that she was happy…but also a bit jealous that this wasn’t her.

Because once, when she was a teen, she thought she would be in this position. Standing in front of Wonwoo, eager to place her hands on his arms, tug him closer and press their lips together. Call it forever, because it sounds like it could be possible with him. And these are thoughts not to be having when at the altar with her two best friends, as his eyes get filled with tears when looking at Fae.

She wishes it was her.

Wonwoo does look her way at one moment, departing from his vision towards Fae and it’s almost like his shoulders fall. She knows, then, that he remembers the possibilities—what they once talked about when seated on the front-yard of his old house, through small pecks and giggles. They once said that they were ‘ride-or-die’, only to ride along the adventure that they tried.

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, raising the corners of her mouth, as if telling him that they have made it. The ‘happy-ever-after’ reached in different spectrums. Wonwoo smiles back, tracing the outline of his engagement ring, the one that will meet the new ring that will create, hopefully, a lifetime of happiness.

Not with her.

Of course, not with her.

And that doesn’t haunt her. It’s something that she wishes she could have told herself in the past, so she would have never placed herself in Wonwoo’s life that way, making his relationship with Fae easier and more factual from the beginning. However, now that she’s here, it brings nostalgia.

They were once kids, now he’s getting married.

There’s a baby waiting for him in Fae’s womb, that not many people in this church know about. If any, really.

That’s the magic of moving on, but at the same time, wondering why it wasn’t like how they wished for as kids.

She nods at him, mouthing the words: “I’m proud of you.” in hopes that he can read her lips. Wonwoo, excelling at everything he does, manages to do so, nodding back at her before returning his gaze towards his wife.

Then, comes the exchange of words. His deep vibrato promises to cherish Fae forever, and she believes him. Maybe, she doesn’t have anyone by her side, or a man that can compare to the quality of people that Wonwoo is, but the time will come. For now, she’s the tree that shadows over the couple, sheltering from the eyes of the judging as they kiss, after letting out into the world what they wish for each other. Enormous contentedness, for example.

She claps, hands coming together as if praying that they will get to live up to their words. Plenty of years that will come and would have happened to her if Wonwoo was truly her person. Or maybe, he is, because this buzzing excitement that builds like makeup within her chest, coating her heart in layers and layers to hide what truly lays underneath is…an indicative.

Wonwoo is not a person that she got rid off easily. If not, they wouldn’t be friends by now.

Cheers escape her lips, fists balled and raised high in the air for the new couple. At least, someone got to have a happy ending.

###

UNIVERSE 04: the unknown

“I wish I had your eyes.”

Wonwoo says so with simplicity, his nephew—or more like his brother’s grandson—looking up from the handwritten letter that is taking up most of his time and headspace. He takes off on the family genes, with the dark hair, stoic eyes and cat-like smile. Though, the blush is different. In his eighty-six years of living, Wonwoo can’t recall the last time he actually blushed.

He sits back on his chair, creaking from how old it is, wood carving into the spine that had once functioned as leverage for running miles in the Olympics, but now is just a tale that people rarely believe from him. With that, he gets to cross one leg over the other and smile.

Love. Oh lord, love. How beautiful it is, and so inexplicably unreachable for him.

People say that everyone has fallen in love at least once in their lives, but for Wonwoo, it never felt quite right. Women were beautiful in their own spectrum of differences; he had liked a few, if he dares say so himself, with relationships growing and then, withering to the pressure of passing a few months together. But he had never met someone that had him feeling like he could keep going. A romance that could paralyze him to the bone and make him stay.

Now he doesn’t move much, but he doesn’t have anyone that accompanies him, perhaps with a memory, as he sits on this damn uncomfortable chair at six in the morning, downs his two shots of coffee and then, proceeds to read whatever book he finds in his beloved book collection. He wonders if the problem was him; if he couldn’t just quite make his expectations lower so someone could sit by his side.

He feels like his soulmate never came his way, either.

Minho crooks one of his slim legs over his hip, turning to look at the old man. “Paps, I am quite sure you have them. My dad can’t stop going on and on about the Jeon’s and how their eyes are the reason they got ladies on the first place—”

“Not that. Your dad’s an idiot.” Wonwoo excuses, laughing from within his belly and earning a smile from Minho, who plays with the button of his pen. “I am saying that you have a look in your eyes that I wish I had. How long have you been going out with this lady?”

“Almost three months.” Minho admits, running a hand through his dense hair. “…I mean, I’ve liked her for a bit longer, but paps, this is…like…you have to know how it is. I love this woman. I can’t imagine any other girl in my life.”

He can’t say that thought has crossed his head. It’s difficult to fathom just one person being enough for the rest of his life. He was a man of education, so it wasn’t like he was lurking for hook-ups…he just liked the science of relationships more. Why hunt when it always ended in a fall-out?

And he never really cared enough to keep going, either.

“I don’t know how that is. Maybe, that’s the goddamned problem.”

“How—? What?” Minho’s incredulous voice has him standing up, forgetting his letter to his girl to frown at Wonwoo as he points at him. “You’ve never been in love?”

“Never met anybody who could truly make me feel at ease.” Wonwoo announces, clearing his throat and rubbing at the long hairs on his chin. “…Because that’s what love is to me. I didn’t want a woman that I could go crazy with in the sheets. I needed a lady that…made me feel like I could be a better man, who pressured me to be better but still, made it seem like it was nothing. Like trying for her was just enough.”

“That’s crazy…” Minho mumbles, taking a seat next to Wonwoo. It’s horrid that he has to live in the same house as his brother’s family, just because walking gets harder by the day. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I do.” Wonwoo contemplates, nodding along to his words before sighing. “I believe there are people in this universe that we are just meant to find. But I never looked, you know? I stayed still. Hoped the great woman would just burst through the door and be…perfect. For her to be ready for me. For us.”

“That’s not how it works.” Minho says. “Love is action. Soulmates are action, too. You can find them, but if you never truly make an effort to develop and help grow, it’s not going anywhere.” Those words ring within him, youth bursting from his vocal cords, but nonexistent in the antiqueness of his vision. “Because destiny can only do so much. People can be perfect for each other, while being imperfect in their own ways.”

His nephew, or grandnephew, stops for a moment before smiling fully, like a vein in his chest had popped and liberated him.

“If we learn to forgive, we learn to love.” He finalizes, pressing a hand to Wonwoo’s knee and patting it. Those words settle within him; regret basking upon the old man’s figure. Of having so much and yet, having lived so little. With that, the guy raises one eyebrow in questioning. “Would you like to read what I’m writing? I want to give it to her for our four-month anniversary.”

“Technically not an anniversary.” Wonwoo adds the obvious, only to have Minho laughing.

“And right and there, paps, is why you’re still single at this age and time.” He still doesn’t listen to Wonwoo’s grumpy ways, or the grumble that he lets out. Minho sits by his side, the bubblegum pink paper making Wonwoo cackle. “So, I started it off by spraying perfume on it.”

“Of course, you did.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Oh, just so the lady never forgets me.”

“…And there goes, some of your dad’s genes popping out.”

“Paps, don’t be so grumpy.”

“Sorry, that’s what old single men are like.”

“Well, old man, let me show you what real love sounds like.”

###

UNIVERSE 05: we were just kids.

Bones chilled, crippling under the weight of small tremors, Wonwoo doubts this is the harshest rain the city has met. Not that he would know; he’s only been living for eight years in this wholesome world, but he knows for a fact that he could climb mountains with storms that could break the sky itself and he’d make it, just to meet his crush by the swings that near his home.

She’s his neighbor of sorts. His cousin studies with him, just one year older than him, and he ignores the kind of beauty he holds. The headbands that cling to her hair and tangle it even more. The gloss of her lips that may come from the donuts he always steals from his dad’s shelves just to give something to her. Her cheeks are rounded, like universes that he’d dare kiss if that wasn’t prohibited. Mom taught him that he shouldn’t get too close to girls, but she’s…gorgeous.

Intelligent.

She’s a storm waiting to unravel and he notices it when her hands splay under the rain, trapped underneath one of the picnic tables, waiting for the night not to eat them alive with the power of rain water. She may be made of sugar, like the sweetness of her words when she tells him that he’s the best student in his grade, that he knows things that even her, as his senior, has no idea about. That could be why she doesn’t get under the rain, afraid of it, cling to her own knees…

“Oh!” Wonwoo says his thoughts out loud. Of freaking course! Dad always lent his jacket to Mom when the weather got a bit cold. Though, he’s not a businessman. He doesn’t have a jacket around waiting to wrap around her arms. Instead, he stretches the sleeves of his yellow sweater, placing the tips on her ears and mumbling. “You must be freezing.”

“Everywhere. Not just my ears.” She points out and thank God it has gotten late—though not really, he may hear an earful from his parents when he gets back home—. Or, they could come looking for them. For, both her family and his knew about their whereabouts. “You’ll ruin your sweater.”

“You’ll get sick.” Wonwoo points out the obvious, though he can’t help but give a toothy grin that is mostly braces. “…That could give us an excuse to come over to my place. My grandma always makes the best chicken soup. Dad says it heals the heart.”

She smiles at him, crooked, closing her eyes the slightest before returning her gaze to the sky. “I’m afraid we won’t make it home tonight. I don’t want to stay out from home.”

Then, she pauses, lowering her voice.

“I’m scared.”

He hadn’t noticed that while being under the rain with her seemed like the most romantic thing to do, it was also something that she didn’t want to do. Responsible, eager to wrap herself up in her mom’s arms as she had hot chocolate to ease the ache in her joints, that’s who she was. The stars become her north, though Wonwoo notices she’s studying the houses not too far, where the lights have started to take place one by one because of people turning them on at the dusk of dawn.

That’s the cue he needs for taking off his sweater, leaving him only in a white t-shirt with a dinosaur imprinted on it. Then, he’s placing the sweater on top of their heads.

“Wonwoo!” She screeches, covering her face with her palms. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ll get sick, too!”

“I am getting you home, that’s exactly what I’m doing!” His black hair sticks to his face, turning around with his sweater getting drenched while on top of him. He’s already out of their hideaway, nodding at her. “Get here! We need to run before we get entirely wet!”

“Jesus!” She adds, walking alongside him and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep the two of them under the sweater. Wonwoo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart racing within his chest. “O—Okay. I’ll have my mom make you some hot choco in return.”

“Really?”

“O—Of course.” Teeth tittering, she gives him a smile when he looks down at her for a fraction of a second, running through the streets of their neighborhood, shoes ruined because of them splashing against the water-covered concrete. The tip of her nose glistens as if she had just cried, but she looks genuinely happy. “Wonwoo, you’re…the best boy I’ve ever met.”

They are only eight years old, but those words are enough to let Wonwoo know that he wants to be just as old as his parents are and cling to her hand just because he can, and because he wants to. He guides their scavenging, blushing, trembling, mumbling and tripping over his own words, perhaps even his shoelaces, because he is so young and yet, he knows this is love.

The romance his grandma always coos about in those books she reads as her dishes are finished.

The same love that his brother got scolded about just a few days prior for drawing hearts on his notebook.

The love that adults say they can’t find because they are too blind to the obvious. Only a heart that loves purely is able to hunt for romance. For, if love is viewed by a battlefield, it will only be a matter of time before the ticking bomb explodes and their territory is turned to ashes. He may not know a lot about life, or if they’ll last forever, but in his short years of living he knows he doesn’t want her anywhere but at his side, each and every afternoon, playing in that park near their neighborhood, swings with their names written in between doodles of hearts.

###

UNIVERSE 06: i promised i’d stay.

The first night of living with somebody should feel like the initiation of a construction work that only architects could battle with. It’s a promise of sorts; the trial and error that every relationship needs to go through, and she’s so certain about Wonwoo. Everything that he has established and shown to be in the year they have been together, but at the same time, lying next to him as the lull light of his reading lamp bathes over them, his eyes half-closing as he dives into a good read, feels like she could die at any minute.

Not because of him, but she just wants everything to go well.

It’s the fear of having people a few years from now telling her that they saw it from the get-go; that they wouldn’t work out in any way. It’s the irrational thought that pops in her head and tells her that, much like blogs and memes have emphasized, people are not to be trusted, for no one loves truly in this time and age. It’s the weight on her chest that tells her that he loves her, but she could have tried to put on something sexier instead of her usual cartoon pajamas.

She tries to fall asleep to no avail. People say that relationships no longer exist; we are just going from one person to the other, searching to be found. However, the thought of not having Wonwoo by her side and failing in this terrifies her. She is supposed to be the love of his life, the woman that he sighs about every single day and the mere reason why he has a smile on his face. She doesn’t ask for perfect, for they have had their arguments with tranquil conversations aiming to be respectful between the two, but she wants it to be him.

But what if it’s not him?

What if it’s him, but she’s not his ‘it’s her’?

Another turn on the bed.

Another tug of the sheets.

Another sigh.

Wonwoo closes his book softly, eyes closing the slightest before he turns to the side. That’s when he comes face to face with her, pulling the covers slightly over his chin before he connects his gaze to hers.

“I can hear the gears turning inside your head.” He whispers, licking his bottom lip and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before sighing. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She lies through her teeth, afraid of what he may think in that moment of overthinking. Though, Wonwoo doesn’t eat it up, humming at her words.

“Are you sad?”

“Not precisely.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not precisely.” She repeats.

“Is it something I did?”

“Not precisely.” She confesses, hiding her face on his chest and feeling all the weight on her shoulders come out in a sigh. “It’s the fear of what you can do. Like leaving, stop loving me, hating me after moving in with me…wanting to go somewhere else, loving someone else—”

“That’s impossible.” Wonwoo says with a scoff, placing a hand on her face and pressing kisses to her cheeks repeatedly, each softer than the last one.

“Promise me it’s impossible.”

“I can swear.” Wonwoo announces, pulling away to kiss her lips. Her heart races and calms down at his motions at the same time; the paradoxical magic that he pulls with her. “Because I choose to love you every day, even when there are millions of people out there, and circumstances that can happen between us. I choose to go to bed every night with you because I was tired of thanking God and having to think you’re far away. I won’t hate you, because I want to make it work.” He stops for a second, rubbing at a tear that had glided down her eye. “I choose you here, now, tomorrow, forever. You’re the love of my life not because the universe put you on my road, but because I choose you.”

Sometimes, we get lost on ‘the one’. The one person that was made to perfection to fit exactly what we wanted. However, we shape the person we love within our thoughts to be the one that we wanted. It’s up to us to accept someone, or feel like they are the kind of person that we want by our sides forever. She thinks this way as she cuddles closer to his chest, intertwining their legs, imagining if it will feel as safe and beautiful as it does right now when they are eighty and he keeps reading a few chapters before going to bed.

After all, doubting Wonwoo comes in spurts that disappear when she recalls that she feels like she has known him forever. Here, in this lifetime and the many ones to come.

Maybe, in another universe, they are just as in love as they are right now.

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen x raeder #wonwoo #kpop scenarios #writing #soulmate!au

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thepathwechooseif · 4 months

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DEMO TBA

In the English countryside in 1914, you live with your two children on your late husband’s grand estate. Two years have passed since the tragic sinking of the Titanic, from which you became a single parent.

Though surrounded by wealth and community, you remain lost in a fog of grief. But with the arrival of summer, the neighbouring family prepares to host their annual month-long house party. Your curious children persuade you to attend, hoping the festivities will lift your sorrow.

Lucas/Lucia Bertham, the family's charming heir, bonds with your children and seems to understand you in a way others cannot. But will secrets regarding their family's future prevent love?

Azra Hays arrives, a traveling storyteller with a gift for magic in their words that soothes your soul. Gardner Isaac Hill has loved you in silence, finding joy through your children's smiles.

More suitors await too - brilliant sculptor Zephyr Langston, whose art mirrors your heart, and Doctor Henry Bellman, who ministers to the people with patience and good humor.

As festivities crescendo with masques, fireworks and more, you start to believe in love and laughter again. But which person holds your whole heart? And will dark forces from the past destroy this new paradise you’ve begun to build?

The summer promises intrigue, blessings, and maybe a sweet romance if you can let go of history and embrace the gifts of tomorrow.

Customise your character as well as your children’s

Choose where you live and how you dress

Your choices have an impact on how society reacts to you!

Uncover secrets from your past!

Pursuing different ROs with varying levels of affection leads to unique story endings that resolve the mystery

Lucas/Lucia Bertham (m/f/nb)

The Heir, 26, Lucas/Lucia Bertham is the only child and heir to the prestigious title and lands of Bertham. They are a successful businessperson, but relish returning to their ancestral home each summer. While other young people prefer to travel abroad, they prefer the simple pleasures of country life. They take their duty as head of the manor seriously, helping tenants with an approachable demeanor. Though destined to marry well for station one day, they remain single and enjoy lively flirtations. While others dance at balls, they are the happiest hosting gatherings under the stars or riding alongside farm laborers by day. Lucas/Lucia lights up any room with their charm, wit and easy smiles. But is there a lonely heart searching for more beneath this carefree facade? As always, only time will tell what develops between Lucas/Lucia and you over the magical summer months at Bertham.

Isaac Hill(m)

The Gardner, 35, Isaac Hill has lived and worked on your estate for years. His strong, weather-worn hands coax beauty from the soil. Gardenings comes naturally to gentle-souled Isaac, as does his way with any creature in need of care. The expansive gardens are his pride and joy, a wonderland open for all to enjoy. Despite his huge build, muscular arms and calloused palms, his demeanor remains soft-spoken yet self-assured. While most village maidens sigh for officers or heirs, Isaac's gentle soul and way with children has turned many a head. But he remains devoted to coaxing new life from the earth, finding solace in small things. Perhaps amid the Bertham's blossoms, Isaac's own heart may bud anew this summer as well.

Zephyr Langston(m/f/nb)

The Sculptor, 27, Zephyr Langston hails from one of London's most prestigious arts families. Though young, their sculptures have already gained fame across England. While many London soirees vie for their presence, Zephyr relishes escaping to the countryside each summer. Using moody landscapes as inspiration, they work tirelessly to capture fleeting emotions in stone. Some say their sculptures are too sensually lifelike, but the Berthams proudly collect their edgy works. Zephyr charms salon attendees but remains unmarried, focused solely on their "passionate mistress," their art. Though prone to brooding moody spells while working, they come alive at parties with a playful wit. Could this summer be when they find inspiration of the heart as well as hands among the Bertham estate's rolling hills?

Henry Bellman(m)

The Doctor, 29, though young, he runs the village medical practice with a maturity beyond his years. What he lacks in words, Henry more than makes up for with his compassionate bedside manner. He listens with steady brown eyes that seem to see into patients' very souls. While others chat idly, Henry prefers observing life unfold with subtle calm. An avid reader, he's as learned as any university man but without pretense. More than one farmer's daughter has blushed starry-eyed receiving his attentions, yet he remains a bachelor focused solely on his work. The Berthams value Lucas greatly for his discretion and healing touch. But does his solemn façade hide deeper passions waiting to emerge? As always, only time will tell what mysteries lie beneath the calm exterior of Doctor Henry Bellman, and what intrigues he may stir in your heart this season.

Azra Hays(m/f/nb)

The Storyteller, 27, Azra Hays is a free spirit , with mischievous eyes like the summer sky. While others settle, Azra is happiest wandering the countryside in their worn boots, flute in hand.They’re a jack of all trades but lives for their art - spinning spellbinding tales that transport listeners far from their daily toils. With their easy smile and flirty manner, Azra charms all they meet. Yet beneath this bohemian exterior beats a kind and generous heart, always helping travelers in need. An orphan from youth, they never take their freedom or talents for granted. Azra makes their coin sharing folklore, gossip and bawdy jokes in villages along their route. But they save their most magical stories for moonlit campfires, weaving magic that leaves audiences in awe. Some say their nose for intrigue could even rival the Sherlock Holmes tales. Will Azra linger longer this year among Bertham's gardens and party revelries? Is there feeling breeding beyond friendship beneath Azra's roguish charm? As always, only time will tell the true depth of bonds woven beneath the summer stars.

#interactive fiction #no demo #twine game #twine wip #twine interactive fiction #twine story #twine if #wip #status: wip

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pimsri · 7 months

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"Where does the difference between the past and the future come from?"

#hannibal #pimsriart2023 #pimsriart #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannigram

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thatsatricky1 · 2 months

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𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || Prologue

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Slight gore, mentions of blood, mentions of being wounded, angst, abandonment.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,4k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Run Donghyuck!”

“What do you think I’m doing, strolling through the garden?” Donghyuck replied sharply out of breath as he ran as fast as he could, adrenaline filling his body making him unaware of the stinging feeling in his feet. Jaemin a few paces ahead of him.

Donghyuck skidded to a stop once he finally saw everyone in front of him. Breathing heavily as his eyes scanned over the familiar faces, relief dripping from him but his breath that he finally was catching back was stolen again, eyes widening in realisation.

“Where’s Y/n?!” He barely managed to get the question out from how he was trying to catch his breath back.

“She is coming, don't worry we have one more minute before they start looking for us.” Mark replied, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand, tugging him over to the rest of the group waiting at the mahogany wooden door.

“No this isn’t right, she should have gotten here first.” Donghyuck gasped out in between sucking air greedily back into his body that was desperate for oxygen.

“The security around her hall was timed differently than usual, they changed the rotation early.” Jaemin replied, also heaving in breaths. The whole group needed to gain their breath back.

Renjun winced while checking his pocket watch again, thirty seconds had past, eyes looking down the dark corridor, hearing the blood pulsing behind his ears like a drum.

”Thirty more seconds.” Renjun barely managed to get out.

They’d said from the start that no one would be left behind. The eight of them against the world if they had too. But it had taken months to plan this escape and it looked like one random security route change up would ruin that.

The boys share a glance with each other before Jeno steps to the front deciding something that would change their future.

“We need to leave now.”

“What no. Fuck no. We wait.” Jaemin disturbed as he shook head, eyes widening at Jeno’s words.

“Ten seconds.” Renjun spoke only focusing on his pocket watch hand gripping it tight.

“Our time is limited Jaemin, we can’t wait anymore. She would want us to escape even if she doesn’t get out.” Jeno stressed out grabbing his hair with both hands tugging on it.

Jeno didn’t want to leave her behind but what other option did they have. Stay and continue suffering? They had all been waiting years to get away from the hell hole they were trapped in.

“Jeno is right, there’s no time left.” Mark managed to say even if every fiber of his being didn’t want to admit it.

“Are you out of your mind?” Donghyuck says moving to tug at Mark’s vest slightly red in the face whether from the running or anger no one could tell, most likely both.

“Five seconds.”

“We get it!” Donghyuck spat at Renjun who was still insistently calling out the time left before they really had to go unless they wanted to be stuck there.

“Donghyuck we need to go, she’ll understand.” Mark cut his yelling off lest they get any unwanted attention grabbing his friend's face, cupping his jaw in his hands to face him. Mark noticed the tears welling in his friend's eyes.

”Promise. Promise me that she’ll understand.” Donghyuck all but begged.

“I… I promise.” Mark managed to grit out through clenched teeth.

Mark letting go of Donghyucks face when he finally nodded back.

“Will she be okay?” Jisung finally spoke up, unlike the others who held back tears, his were free flowing.

“Y/n is tough, she’ll be okay Jisung.” Jeno reassured with a tight lipped smile, not sure if he was trying to convince Jisung or himself.

“She will be okay.” Chenle spoke up with a determined look. Out of all of them, Y/n was always the one to keep it together.

“Waiting period is over.” Renjun stated putting away his pocket watch, lip quivering as he watched the hallway in front of them. Silence, with no familiar footsteps coming towards them anytime soon.

Flashes of red neon hued lights flashing on and off. A blaring alarm ringing through the air signally something was wrong in the facility. An attempted escape.

Y/n didn’t know what to focus on. The burning feeling all over her body, muscles aching and screaming for a break, throat dry and swollen from air being swallowed down greedily and being exhaled too fast, blood thumping and rushing. Not to mention the gushing wound on her side.

The stomping of boots fading in the background as she made pace. Always having been the fastest, something the facility took pride in but not at this moment.

For the first time in what felt like days, weeks even she smiled. A smile of relief. Her freedom, her boys freedom so close she could touch it. Somehow the hope in her stomach pushed her faster as she bounded down the second last hallway. Hand still pushing pressure into the side of her torso.

“I’m coming! Boys I’m nearly there!” Y/n let the scream ripple out her dry cracked lips, not needing to be quiet as she was already being chased down. By the ones who’d taken her in the first place.

Taking a sharp right, managing to keep her footing as she raced across the sterile white tiles bare feet staining the floor red in her wake. Seeing the dark mahogany door now.

Her smile dropped into a frown of confusion as she raced down it, not seeing a person in sight. Not the seven figures she’d been expecting to be there. Skidding to a stop a few steps away from the door, that had been left ajar.

Her breathing haggered as she stood wobbling, balance unstable as her eyes trained on the door. Trying to wrap her head around the sight before her. Though it was plain and simple to connect the dots, her mind could and would not accept the sight.

Hand leaving her side slipping away from her gushing wound, slow droplets of blood rolling down her paling hand, falling down onto the once clean white tiles below her.

”No.” Her whisper lost between the loud blaring alarm.

Her figure disappears into the darkness only to reappear every few seconds in the floodlights of red coming from the lights. Swaying slightly now yet her eyes stayed trained on the door, the one that led to her escape.

Her body tried to take a steady deep inhale through her nose but a sudden blinding pain caught her off guard spreading through her head, time seemingly slowing down as her sight seemed to be going sideways.

Y/n not even noticing it wasn’t just her sight going sideways but her body that collapses down onto the ground. A figure behind her being revealed not much older than herself as he stood there eyes wide gazing down at her, his grip on the metal pipe in his hand tighter if possible.

Her body thumped onto the ground in a heap, a mess. Eye glazed over with unshed tears, pain radiating through her. Not just physically but from deep within her.

“Good job Jeongin, very well done my boy.” An older man’s voice cut through the loud alarms.

Y/n not being able to hear it, everything sounding drowned, like she was underwater. She laid there unfocused eyes still staring at that mahogany door from where she was on the floor.

“I told you not to harm my girl, only to detain her!” The older man's voice sounded angry now yelling at people in the distance finally having caught up a bit too late to her.

“Get her to the medical ward, don’t harm her any further or you’ll all be missing a hand as punishment. We’ve already lost seven of my boys, my girl isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

Y/n barely felt the touches against her body, not even the hand that pressed tightly against her wounded side. Her body being dragged up, held against someone as they started walking away from the door.

Her hand just barely managed to lift weakly up in the direction of the wooden door that was slowly getting further away.

‘They left me.’ Was all that ran through her head, hand falling limp, her eyes finally failing her as her eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, the pressure of her eyes closing finally letting a tear slip past rolling down her cheek.

They left me.