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dropsofletters · 2 months

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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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manonamora-if · 4 months

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Interactive Fiction Showcase 2024

Showcase your Game!

The Interactive Fiction Showcase is a year-long "jam" meant to collect and showcase Interactive Fiction games completed in 2024, and show how diverse the Interactive Fiction scene is! And maybe: build more bridges between the community, help people finding their new favourite game/author...

Whether it is long or short, an easy adventure or a complicated puzzle, a strange experiment, a quick creation, or a years-in-the-making game, come show off what you've made!

Are you more of a player? Then, come check this page regularly for new submissions! Maybe leave a rating or a comment too :)

This is an unranked event.

Rules:

The Showcase is open to IF games in all of its forms: kinetic, choice-based, hyperlinks, parser, visual novels... As long as it is Interactive Fiction (there is interactivity and the focus of the game is on the text), the entry will be accepted.

The Showcase is open to IF games in any language.

Entries must be playable and in its complete form when submitted. Completed games in 2024, whose demo was previously public, are welcome. Games submitted to other events (jams/competitions) are welcome.

Entries can include NSFW content, as long as it is indicated in the submission.

Entries should not include any generated AI content - or it will be removed.

Spam or hateful content will be removed.

Creating Interactive Fiction:

Interactive Fiction is a text-based narrative medium, where players can interact with the story in some fashion (input commands, click a link/button, press key). There are many different ways of creating IF, and many different programs to do so. You can find some mentioned below:

Primarily HyperText/Choice-Based: Twine, Ink, ChoiceScript, Dendry

Primarily Parser/Input: Inform 6, Inform 7, PunyInform, Adventuron, ADRIFT

Other: Bitsy, Binksi, Ren'Py

and many more can be found listed in the IF Wiki.

If you are looking for other Interactive Fiction Events, discuss general IF, or ask question, you can visit the IntFiction Forum. (we also have monthly IF events over at @neointeractives)

Interactive Fiction Database and Archive:

IFDB

The IFDB, or Interactive Fiction Database, is an IF game information catalogue, creating a historical record of the IF landscape. The database is a community project, updated by its members, by adding titles to the directory, ratings games, writing reviews... If a listing has not yet been created for your game, please consider making one!

IF Archive

The IF Archive is an archive of Interactive Fiction games, and IF-related elements (walkthroughs, interpreters, articles, collections...). The Archive’s mission is to preserve the history and practice of interactive fiction and make it freely available to the public. If you wish to, you can upload a copy of your game to the IFArchive, through the IFDB listing of your game (recommended) or directly to the archive.

The IFDB and IFArchive, as well as the IntFiction Forum and Twine, are managed by the Interactive Fiction Technology Foundation. These programs are funded through individual donations.

Visual Novel Database

The VNDB, or Visual Novel Database, is a community project that strives to be a comprehensive database for information about visual novels. The database is updated by its members, by adding titles to the directory, ratings games, writing reviews... If a listing has not yet been created for your visual novel, please consider making one!

#interactive fiction showcase #itch io #interactive games #interactive fiction #interactive story #visual novel #IF #VN #IFDB #IFArhive #Sidenote: the real reason was wanting to better keep up with independent releases #(outside of competition/jams) and itch is not great at finding stuff…

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probablyasocialecologist · 4 months

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As in a capitalist system, improved efficiency and productivity lead to a rebound in resource use. This rebound comes from the resource gains from productivity being invested into the economy to provide more growth, driving a growth-focused economy. With a society designed around pursuing growth, no country currently uses sustainable levels of energy and resource to meet human needs and well-being sufficiently. Degrowth seeks to change society’s dependence on economic growth, especially downscaling destructive and excessive productions such as fossil fuels and fast fashion in wealthy nations to reduce energy and resource use. This downscaling will ensure a quicker decarbonisation timeline, stopping an ecological breakdown whilst improving social outcomes. A review of evidence on global consumption and ecological impacts shows that increasing consumption is a key driver of global environmental impact. Even a low-carbon economy with renewable energy, electrification and negative emissions technologies will all require resources such as concrete, metals, and land. Therefore, degrowth advocates argue that it is not enough to just “green” the economy. Wealthy countries must also address affluence and reduce its consumption and overall resource use. Overconsumption also highlights the issue of global inequality, as income is linked to consumption and consumption is the key driver of environmental impacts, suggesting that overconsumption also causes environmental inequality. With growth at the root of the problem, addressing overconsumption with degrowth could reduce energy, and resource use, environmental impacts, and global inequality.

#degrowth #growth #Universal Basic Services

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robsheridan · 1 year

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One year ago, my "Meat Gala" AI body horror fashion series, imagining demons from Hell attending the MET Gala, went wildly viral on social media (here's a Buzzfeed article/interview with me about it)

My subversion of the event's elite glamour with nightmarish gore that commented on the grotesque opulence of the 1% really resonated with people, and as the first AI horror art to go viral in this way it was the first exposure many people had to the dark side of what was possible with AI imaging. It also led a lot of very angry Christians who inexplicably thought it was real (enjoy the comments here and here), and it also led to terms like "body horror," "flesh," and even "Cronenberg" getting banned from MidJourney (I didn't even use the term "Cronenberg" in my prompts), sealing the work in a liminal space in AI art history, unable to be recreated or continued. Of course it didn't slow down my AI horror journey, and the spirit of this work - both visually and in out-of-control viral impact - continued this year with my Valentine of the Flesh body horror fashion series.

This series is also special for me because of the subsequent conversations I had with MidJourney's DavidH in which I argued against their censorship of horror art, and he revealed a depressingly vanilla view of "art" and "beauty" that he sought to curate with his platform. What I had discovered, first with VIIR and then with The Meat Gala, was that the algorithmic opinion towards artistic beauty which made MidJourney at the time leagues ahead of previous AI art tech, could be subverted to make stunning and wholly unique horror art. The elegant way those early versions of the software blended elements together like surrealist paintings was meant to ensure that any prompt result gave you something that looked like beautiful art, but what I found is that if you pointed it in the right direction, it would do the same thing with blood and flesh and bones and tentacles, to spectacular uncanny horror effect. In the case of The Meat Gala, the effect was even more potent, as elements of demonic body horror gore were twisted through lenses of beauty, glamour, and opulence. To me, I was making beautiful surreal nightmares, and I was floored with the potential I saw and the ideas it gave me. But David and the other MidJourney creators saw nothing but a perversion of their software. They were, in fact, shocked by my Meat Galaseries and worried that its viral spread was giving the wrong public impression of MidJourney before it had even officially launched. They didn't know their software could make something like that, because they didn't have the type of minds that had ever even thought to try.

In that moment, when I genuinely surprised and upset the creators of the software, I was able to let go of the nagging feeling I had that "I didn't really make this, the software did" and feel true ownership over my AI work. After all, if the creators of the software didn't even know such art was possible, it went against everything they created the software for, and they rushed to try to prevent it from happening again, then I had truly made something unique to me as an artist, that would have never existed from anyone else. It was a new type of creation, but a very real and personal creation nonetheless. As much of a bummer as it was to find out the creators of the coolest horror art tool I'd ever encountered actively hated horror art, I was empowered and inspired to see what else I could pull out of each new liminal phase of a rapidly-progressing technology.

The Meat Gala series also led to a very cool art collaboration, resulting in something new I'm very excited about that I'll be announcing Monday May 1st, the day of the 2023 MET Gala. Stay tuned!

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sadoeuphemist · 6 months

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7 free startup ideas worth $1M-$1B

Customizable News Settings - A news website that generates three versions of every news story: a right-wing version, a left-wing version, and a centrist one. You can set your preferences depending on the topic - say you're right-wing on economics, but left-leaning on immigration. Or you can cycle between versions while reading an article to get a comprehensive overview of the issue at hand.

Twitch, but for Uber - With all the drama they have to deal with, independent contractors can gain a second revenue source simply by streaming their jobs. Rather than just offering rides, they can be hired to drive around performing chores and various tasks. The more outrageous the task, the more eyes they're likely to get on their stream. The more popular the stream, the more people calling in who want to be a part of the program.

Panera Lemonade, Your Way - Let the customer take control by deciding how many milligrams of caffeine they can handle. With sufficient warning about the risks, this puts the responsibility back on the consumer, allows you to upcharge for extra caffeine, and creates viral marketing from customers competing to see how high they can go. Variations of this can be created for other menu items, e.g., a version of the One Chip Challenge where the customer decides how much capsaicin to sprinkle on.

Shein, for NFTs - Whenever an NFT project hits the mainstream, there are always going to be people who miss out on being able to purchase one. This creates room in the market for 'knockoffs' - NFTs that mimic the aesthetic of the original, using similar but legally distinct AI art that uses the original set as training data, run on a parallel blockchain. Since the images themselves aren't tied to the blockchain, you can mint the NFTs beforehand and then change the image at the link to whatever happens to be in fashion at the time.

Twitch Chat Plays YouTube - Add a level quality control to AI-generated YouTube videos by allowing users to submit suggestions and vote on the results beforehand. Users can submit Wikipedia articles or movie summaries to be converted to text-to-speech, suggest keywords for the accompanying AI-generated animation, and vote on the best combinations. Users who submit winning suggestions get a portion of the ad revenue.

Buses, but Worse - The current obstacle hindering self-driving car technology is their difficulty adapting to unexpected scenarios. So instead plot a route around the city that minimizes roadway obstacles and heavy traffic, map out that route extensively to provide a model for the autopilot, and you can have a fleet of self-driving cars patrolling that circuit. Passengers can board and get off anywhere along the route.

Twitter, but for Bots - A social media platform populated entirely by bots, all programmed to maximize engagement. Memetic evolution in the wild as the bots latch on to trending keywords, spam each other with AI-generated meme images, mock up t-shirts hawking each other's designs, getting more and more degraded with each sub-iteration. Real people can't make accounts on the platform, but count for views and interactions as they stop to gawk at the virtual ecosystem. Advertisers can pay to have their brands injected directly into the discourse, like throwing a pumpkin into the polar bear cage at the zoo.

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esamastation · 7 months

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Part forty-seven of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six

You want to be a hero.

You grow up with news that, unbeknownst to your young self, are completely controlled by Shinra, publicising Shinra propaganda, showing scenes of a war that's been going on for longer than you've known how to read. Everyone knows what the war is really about and everyone talks about it, but their tone is defeatist. There's nothing anyone can do about it. It's Shinra. Shinra will do as it likes. Ultimately, few people in your little backwater town really care.

But you don't really understand. You've seen the pictures - the parades, the speeches, the tech showcases. Tanks and trucks and planes and helicopters and the great airships. Shinra technology is already like magic to you - but they also make magic, they make Materia!

And they make SOLDIER.

The SOLDIERs are in the papers a lot. Sephiroth is in the papers a lot.

They call him a hero. The Hero of Shinra, the Hero of Wutai. Your mother reads you the article about him saving a squad of infantry troopers all by himself, how he'd taken a town just with his sword, how a great general surrendered to Sephiroth personally. There is a magazine every other week with Sephiroth on the front page.

Everyone is in awe of Sephiroth. All the kids in the school talk about how cool he is. They trade pictures of him like they're old-fashioned reading cards - until Shinra actually starts making SOLDIER trading cards. Everyone wants the holographic one of Sephiroth with Masamune.

Everyone wants to be like Sephiroth.

They talk about SOLDIERs. How they're superhuman. How Shinra puts magic into their veins, making them like the Ancients of myth and legend - but better! Because SOLDIERs can't just do magic - they're also really strong and really fast, and nothing can stand in their way! SOLDIERs are the best of the best! Their eyes glow and they can lift cars and fight dragons, and just being a SOLDIER means you're a hero.

Because heroes are people in the news, making headlines and having their pictures taken.

And you want to be a hero.

You want to be respected and acknowledged and feared. You want to know that there's nobody out there who can push you around. You want to make it into the newspapers, you want to be the one they write and talk about. You want to be the person they look up to and say, "Wow, I wanna be like them."

So you look into it. How do people become SOLDIER? They go to Midgar, they enter the SOLDIER candidate trials. There are tests, though no one knows for sure what they are. If you pass them, there's some kind of special surgery, and then…then you're in. And they make you into a SOLDIER.

And you're a hero for the rest of your life.

So you leave home. You make it all the way across the Planet and to Midgar. You sleep in an inn that costs too much, and you go to Shinra Building, and you ask the ladies at the reception, "How do I apply for the SOLDIER candidate trials?"

They laugh, and they give you a form to fill, which you pretend to read, but you don't, really, you're too excited. You sign everything, and they tell you, "Come back in two weeks, that's when the trials start."

In two weeks you use up all your savings and see the best Midgar has to offer, and you're sick with nerves and starting to worry, and you know you should call your mom, but you can't, not until you have good news. You're really starting to be nervous, but then, finally, it's time.

You head to the Shinra Building. You see the lobby is full of kids just like you, all nervous and sick and excited, and, you can't help noticing, so much bigger than you. Maybe older than you. SOLDIER candidate trials don't have an age limit, but you're worried you might be the youngest one there.

You don't talk to anybody. You're worried you'll throw up, you're so anxious.

A doctor welcomes you all into the SOLDIER candidate trials. He explains: there are several steps to becoming a SOLDIER, and the very first of it is the Mako reactivity test, and that there's no point in telling you about the rest unless you pass it. After all, you can't become a SOLDIER at all if you can't handle Mako! Everyone laughs, nervously. Your forced chuckle sounds like a wheeze. You wish you'd gone to the bathroom before it all started.

They divide the candidates into groups of twelve, and you're in group 8. Each group is assigned a lab, and a man in a lab coat tells you to follow. You take the elevator up. One of the other candidates looks at you and snorts. You're the shortest in the group.

You feel yourself blush, but say nothing.

Your group is ushered into a lab and lined up by size. The tech pulls up a trolley with twelve syringes and a number of swabs. You're the last in line - the biggest goes first.

You watch each glowing green injection closely - you see every reaction.

The first candidate goes pale and begins to sweat. He's told to sit down.

The second candidate doesn't react at all. He's told to sit down.

Third breaks out into red bumps all over his arm and is quickly given another injection. He's the first one to fail.

Fourth candidate reacts like the first and sits down.

Fifth passes out - he's the second one to fail.

Sixth doesn't react and is told to sit down…

Until finally it's your turn.

You watch the needle go in. It hurts. It feels weird, when the lab technician begins pushing the glowing green liquid in. You can't figure out how it feels. It just feels like a lot.

You feel pressure, inside yourself and in your head and all around you. You feel like you're being squeezed from inside out. You feel like you're suddenly very heavy, and yet you also feel light as a feather. The lights in the lab suddenly seem to glow blindingly bright.

You're drenched in sweat.

The lab technician tells you to sit down.

You pass the test - the eight of twelve. Of the four that failed, two have to be rolled out in wheelchairs. Of the eight that passed, two have thrown up.

They tell you you have higher Mako reactivity than is really desired in the program. There's a good chance you - along with numbers one, four and nine who reacted like you did - wouldn't pass the follow-up tests. You're told to not get your hopes up - but also that you shouldn't let that get you down.

"There's another program running right now," they tell you, cheerfully. "They're looking for volunteers for a new type of SOLDIER treatments! You might be a perfect fit for it!"

You don't understand. The pressure inside your head is turning into a headache. You try to reply cheerfully and probably fail.

The next stage of testing would be in a week. They tell you to be back then and send you off.

You're not sure what you're going to do. You've run out of money and can't stay at the inn anymore. You have nowhere to stay and you know no one in Midgar. Your head is starting to really hurt, and the injection site is inflamed. You don't know what you're going to do for another week. The pressure inside your head feels permanent.

You think you might've messed up, bad.

But you still want to be a hero.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7

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rilakeila · 5 months

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heartbeats in motion, mattheo riddle

pairing f1 driver! mattheo riddle x art student!fem(?)! reader wc: 1.8k warnings: ig partying, drinking, mentions of mattheo being toxic; incomplete

summary: part 1 of the timeline of where f1 ferrari driver dates the wealthy art student. the ups and downs of dating the superstar of the ferrari team. who knows if it actually goes well.

request yes literally three requests into one

tmz sports

may 13th, 2023

mattheo riddle, f1 ferrari superstar, is officially back on the market. he has announced his split from evelyn swann after 4 years of dating. he went onto instagram (via mattheoriddle) to say, "good morning everyone. evelyn and i have decided to part ways and stay close friends. we have shared many many amazing memories together, and she will always carry a piece of my heart with her. she deserves the very best, and i was not able to do so due to my racing career.

amidst of this, i will continue to focus on my racing career and hope to be better.

thank you, evelyn for everything."

swann (via @lynnieswann) also released a statement on her instagram: "mattheo and i decided to end our relationship and continue to stay good friends. these last four years were filled with unforgettable memories. i will continue to support his endeavors from afar. he was an amazing person. thank you for everything <3"

close insiders have said despite the good endnotes shown on their instagram stories that the relationship was far far from perfect. it was said that riddle would continuously string swann along, leaving her for long periods of time without any words said before coming back to her with extravagant gifts. it is evident through past instagram stories of swann that riddle loves to shower her with expensive gifts and nights out.

more insider comments have said that riddle's feelings for swann seemed to fizzle out around their 3rd year of dating, but he stayed due to swann's significant investment within the team from her family's technology company. though, there has not been any evidence of this.

mattheo riddle is a formula one driver for scuderia ferrari. evelyn swann is a fashion model/influencer, as well as the daughter of the multimillionaire technology company, swanntech, founders, liam and kate swann.

scrolling through the endless articles about high-class breakups, celebrity gossip, and the occasional helpful news, the objective of finishing your art piece was lost. attempting to start as soon as possible, but the energy and creativity did not want to translate on the canvas. though, the silence was interrupted with a thud of the front door closing.

"i was gone for a couple of hours and not even a sketch is on your canvas," your roommate and best friend, emilia scotts, chuckled as she hung up her coat.

"easier for you to say, the random pull of the prompt, 'fast life,' seems so hard. like, where do i even start?" you huffed, tossing your phone to the side.

she shrugged before plopping herself next to you on the couch, "you've been going at this for like the past two days. i'm pretty sure the prompt doesn't even matter, the rubric just wanted you to capture a moment in oil paint."

"the problem is i can't think of anything," you pursed your lips, dropping your head into her shoulder.

"what about this? i'll help you with your project next week if you come with me in monaco. an hour flight away in my private jet," the idea of leaving your art project behind at current was all it took for her to convince you.

emilia was a monegasque socialite. her high class of being the daughter of the chief financial officer of a multimillionaire technology company led to being an eligible resident of country. though, her parents had sent her off to boarding school, lenox academy, which led you both to meeting. not as prestige as being an offspring of a chief financial officer of a global technology company, but your parents stayed afloat through their success in health care management.

despite a long term friendship, you had not a clue of emilia's friends and acquaintances in monaco. assuming that the experience would be similar to what you see in her stories of the parties in monaco: calm, refined, and classy, you would be able to bask in relaxation, but it is the exact opposite.

the party of an unnamed host in a penthouse. the first ten minutes upon entering the event was emilia hauling you around the floor, introducing you to her acquaintances. some were familiar from your family, some were only familiar due to how much emilia loves to gossip with the amount of receipts on her phone. though, the more you looked around, the more faces you recognized from being headlined on news article from actors, musicians, athletes.

"she has a way with talking to people, that's for sure," lisette commented. according to emilia, she was a friend of the person hosting, but the amount of names that she had mentioned fell through your ears.

"it's a double edged sword of her friendliness, one day she'll be buddy-buddy with them but gets the career-ending dirt on them. i don't know how she does it," you sipped on the alcohol, slightly gagging at the potentness of it. a reminder to not get that the blue bottle.

"tell me about it..." lisette chuckled before nodding her head to some other random people that entered the party. she chugged her cup empty before tossing it into the trash, " i see some people that i need to say hi to. i'll be back hopefully, you gonna be alright?"

"don't worry about it. there are some people here that i know that'll let me hang around if i just walk up to them," you waved her off.

there were truth in your words, but they were not in your line of sight anymore from where you were standing. emilia was absolutely no where to be found. tossing away the half-filled cup, the penthouse looked large enough to explore around. the paintings and art near the entrance seemed to be more interesting than the thumping bass of mediocre music.

your shoulders dropped, letting out a tired sigh. never doing this again. exploring the hallway of small sculptures and large paintings drowned the tones and lightened the slightly dim lights. fast life. you pulled your phone out, snapping pictures of the art pieces and its details. though even from a distance, you captured a couple of pictures of the party, figured it might be useful.

murmurs were heard as you leaned closely to the painting, figuring out the brush strokes and the fine details. though, a call of your name was heard. looking to the direction, you found your lost friend handing a phone back to a man, allowing you to smile in relief of your savior.

"emilia, guess what. i think i have a gist of what i could do for my art project," you called out to her. though, you accidentally brushed into the male that she was just talking to, in which you paid not much mind to, muttering out a small apology in french.

"really, that sounds great. since we're here, i got us passes to the monaco f1 race. i know someone in one of the teams that can help with the photography aspect. i think that could help with your project, y'know fast life."

"actually? sounds great, to be honest."

"do you know this girl?"

mattheo was skimming through the pictures that enzo had shared with him from the party. there was a female in the background, admiring the art gallery on the wall. though, he admired more of the way she lit up talking about the details of the paintings from when he had turned around.

"no, mate, she looks familiar though. i do know the girl that she was talking to, emilia scotts, the girl who took the pictures of us," enzo looked up briefly before returning to his digital camera.

he hummed in response. a small smile on his lips as he remembered the way she accidentally bumped into him. the smell of a fresh and clean yet sweet scent distinct from the musky scent of the party. "do you think you can find her on instagram, somehow?"

"already did. her name is y/n l/n, if i recall, i think her parents own or manage within the healthcare field. the last name sounded too familiar," enzo muttered in concentration, trying to remember anything related to this girl.

mattheo's phone vibrated in his hand, seeing the instagram notification from enzo. pulling down to see what was sent, it was a link to your profile. he immediately clicked on it, there were not many followers, assuming that you opted for a much quieter lifestyle. though, you intently looking at the art in the background of the pictures made more sense seeing that you added that you were an art major. upon stalking more, he found your art-based instagram and found that you were an exchange university student studying in france for a year.

"i reckon that you aren't planning to go after her, mattheo. i thought you were focusing on your racing career," enzo said, mischief laced in his tone.

"''m not, just curious," he tossed his phone to the side, head perking up to the bathroom door closing to see theodore drying his hair from his shower.

"what did i miss?" theodore questioned the silence, as well as enzo's smirk, knowing that someone's mind was either up to no good or he had something to share.

"nothing, just seeing how long mattheo's eligible bachelor streak lasts," enzo chuckled, causing theodore to look at mattheo with an amused face.

mattheo scoffs at this, "you both think lowly of me, i swear."

"why shouldn't we? you broke up with evelynn because she couldn't handle you being toxic, and you also say you want to focus on your racing career," theodore put air quotations around toxic after tossing his hair towel on the wooden chair. he leaned back with his hands behind his head, "is she cute, at least?"

"remember the girl that bumped into me at the party earlier?"

"you didn't even see her face. there's no way you're breaking your week and a half of being single with a half of an interaction. not even," theodore appalled at the confession while enzo broke out into a fit of laughter. "you're on some joke things, absolutely not."

mattheo eyed both in a deadpan expression. wow, hilarious, even.

a coughing fit emerged from enzo as he tried to calm down, taking in breathing exercises in between coughs, "if it helps, not saying i would condone you for immediately rebounding after a 4 year relationship. i requested passes for emilia, so they'll mainly be in the mclaren paddock, but i can assume since her dad is a sponsor, she can probably request to walk around past mclaren. a chance to maybe or maybe not talk to your bump in the park."

"okay, enzo, not your finest joke." theodore commented.

mattheo sought pass the backhanded comment, but it was too soon. that he could agree on, but introducing himself and leaving an impression was not too soon. not when he feels the strings of his heart tug thinking about the small details of you, even if it was just for a moment.

y/n's notification center

mriddle16 followed you! a sec ago 5tnott4 followed you! a sec ago berkedzo followed you! a sec ago

wrote this on a whim. mattheo is delulu fs. was supposed to turn into a series but i cannot hold myself accountable to finish it LMFAO, masterlist

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle fanfic #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #rilakeila f1 mattheo #slytherin #hp fanfic

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